“What is it, lover?” she asked him.
“I can give him his request,” he said. “I can, but…”
She understood. She put her hand on his lips and kissed his forehead.
“Do not fear him. Perhaps you needed this. You need to see what life you might lead.”
He nodded, then turned to Trummug. “Very well. Have your men lay down their arms. Do not harm me, and I will let you hear his words.”
The big orc gave the command. Qurrah walked the distance between them, feeling an ever-tightening knot in his stomach. He had never done this before, not once. He felt vulnerable, naked.
“Dark one,” he prayed as he walked. “Accept this as a step of faith. Do not betray me.”
Orcs grumbled and swore as the half-orc arrived. Trummug snorted.
“So, I’m not hearing anything.”
“Kneel,” Qurrah said. “Then you may hear.”
“You want to make me a fool?” the big orc snarled, barely containing his growing rage.
“Cut me in half if you hear nothing,” Qurrah said. “I will make no motion to stop you.”
“The girl?”
“She will not stop you.”
The anger had spread throughout all his body, but he held it in check. He slammed down his axe, then knelt as he gripped its handle. Before he could move, Qurrah thrust his hands against Trummug’s face and met him eye to eye.
Karak, god of Order, he silently commanded. Speak. Show him your paradise.
At first Trummug’s eyes widened, as if he suspected Qurrah of some sort of treachery, but then the glaze came over. A strong ringing filled both their ears. The sky went dark. The world was a haze. Qurrah had asked for communion, and his request was about to be answered.
J ust under a mile away, his orc rabble marching behind him, Velixar broke into hysterical laughter.
“He is learning!” he cried, an enormous smile on his face. “Give it to him, Karak, give him his desire!”
All around orcs shied away from his horrific laughter, laughter that shivered their spines and struck dead the few birds that flew overhead. Laughter of a dead man. Laughter of an insane man. And none there could describe the pleasure he took within it.
F rom the ringing came a soft blowing of wind past the entrance of a cave. Trummug and Qurrah were lost within the sound, as if all time were halted.
“What you do to me?” Trummug asked, though his lips never moved.
Qurrah had no chance to answer.
You sought my presence, said the voice of Karak. Their entire world shook. The darkness recoiled, and spikes of red and violet danced within. You wanted proof of my promise. You wanted my words, my voice. You are my children, cast away and given to me by the goddess. Accept my power, as you always have. Let the orcs become my banner carriers.
“We will obey,” Trummug said, still without moving his lips. Qurrah thought the darkness would end and the moment pass, but Karak’s presence remained, his message not yet done.
Forgive my prophet, child. Forgive the loss of your brother. I have not yet turned my back on him, though he has turned his back on me. Velixar loves you, as you once loved him. Trust. Respect. The time will come when your power will surpass even his, and that time is not far away.
“I want freedom from this,” Qurrah said. “I want a life with her, and nothing more.”
Your freedom comes with mine. But once you have tasted the fire I offer…will you be so ready to flee it?
Red lightning consumed the dark. The black grew ever distant, until Qurrah realized he stared into the eyes of Trummug. The giant orc stood, his entire body shaking.
“What he say, boss?” the orc to his right asked. Trummug did not respond. “So we get to kill them?” the same orc asked, drawing his sword and turning toward Qurrah. The half-orc did not move. Trummug reached out and crushed the life from the orc’s throat, all while still staring at Qurrah.
“Boys,” he shouted. His voice gained strength as he talked. “The Mugs got a god smiling at us. All us orcs do. We gonna leave the wedge, and we leave it forever! Get the war drums, prepare the horde. We march to war!”
Qurrah turned to Tessanna and nodded. The girl smiled, but it was a nervous smile. She didn’t like the way her lover looked. It was as if his face had darkened, a reverse glow that sucked in all light and denied it freedom. But he had his army, far larger than the one Velixar ruled. He walked over and wrapped his arms around her waist.
“I love you,” he said.
“What did you hear?” she asked him. He opened his mouth to answer, then paused.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “Nothing matters but us. And we are one step closer to our freedom.”
She kissed his cheek. It was colder than ever. When he kissed her back, a shiver traveled up and down her back. As his arms closed about her, she felt the chill subside. Karak’s presence had faded. Qurrah’s heart and soul were hers once more.
V elixar and his orcs arrived at the camp expecting war, but instead they were greeted like long lost friends. The Mug orcs cheered and offered ale and food, to which the exhausted and starving orcs gladly accepted. Qurrah waited for Velixar by the gate, Tessanna next to him with dagger in hand.
“You spoke with him,” Velixar said when he arrived. “Not only that, you invoked his name. For the first time you put your trust in Karak. Do you see now that when faith is measured, the reward is greatest for those who believe without hesitation?”
“The orcs are yours,” Qurrah said. “And Trummug will unite all the other Mug camps we come across in his name. Only Lummug can overrule him. Once the Mug tribe is in our hands, the rest of the tribes will step in line. The question is, who will be their Hordemaster?”
“I thought Gumgog,” Velixar said. “He seems capable enough.”
“Make him Warmaster,” Qurrah said. “But Trummug has heard the voice of Karak. He should be the Hordemaster.”
Velixar pondered over the decision. As he did, he watched Tessanna slice into her arm. The vicious cut splattered her dress with blood. Tears ran down her face, but she made no sound. When she caught him looking at her, she smiled.
“The cold makes it hurt more,” she said, her voice like the purr of a cat. “But the pleasure’s still there.”
“Indeed,” Velixar said, glancing back to Qurrah. “But will Lummug bow to his younger brother, I ask?”
“Of course not,” Qurrah said. “We are instituting a new era for the orcs. The old must go. Lummug will die, and Trummug will rule, with all the orcs worshipping the name of Karak.”
Velixar chuckled. “Very well. I will concede to your decision. Prepare the orcs to march. We have several more camps to collect before we reach Lummug’s.”
“Of course, master,” Qurrah said with a bow. The man in black bowed back, feeling his joy increasing. His apprentice had finally gained the confidence to argue back, to disagree, and not out of arrogance. His plan was a sound one. Any orc blessed enough to hear the words of Karak deserved to rule.
“Well done, Qurrah,” Velixar said as they entered the orc camp.
G umgog and Trummug didn’t just get along. They took to one another like brothers. The two were giants compared to the other orcs, and after an initial arm wrestling match, fist fight, and drinking competition, they were as close as any orcs would ever get. When Qurrah took them both aside to explain his plan, for Gumgog to be Warmaster and Trummug to be Hordemaster, both were thrilled beyond measure. They were also drunk beyond measure, which enhanced their reactions.
“But what, what about me brother?” Trummug asked. “He not like me being higher than him when me be smaller, and him older and he got this giant…what was me saying?”
“Your brother will bow to your reign,” Qurrah said, “or you will kill him in Karak’s name. Those are his choices.”
“I’ll beat him over the head for you,” Gumgog offered. “One good whack, kapow!” He smacked their table with his wooden arm. The weighted stone at the end smashed right through.
“You, you a good friend, orc,” Trummug said as he guzzled down his twentieth glass. “Good, good…” He vomited all over his chest. “Good friend. Kapow!”
