"Agreed," said Kargen. "It is hard enough looking after the Red Hand. I can only imagine what it would be like being responsible for five villages."
"In any event," said Urughar, "you shall see for yourself once we reach Runewald."
Reunited
Autumn 1104 SR
Athgar shaved off another sliver of wood, then held the bow to his eye, peering down the shaft of yew to examine the finish. Pleased with the result, he set it down, picking up the next in line.
Natalia sat beside him, watching him work. "How many of those are you going to make?" she asked.
"As many as we need. These two are for Raleth and Harwath."
"And the rest?"
He smiled. "Hunferth and Wulfrid both want one."
"That accounts for four, and yet I see six."
"There may be others who will express an interest."
"Your reputation is growing," she said. "Now I suppose people will travel from all the nearby villages just to have one of your bows."
"We can always hope."
"And yet we lack for little," said Natalia, sweeping her gaze over their hut.
"Athgar is always thinking of the good of the village," offered Skora. "He would always offer a low price to his friends even though I said he shouldn't."
Natalia nestled into the pile of furs. "You must tell me more, Skora. I know so little of his youth. Was he a troublemaker?"
"No," the old woman replied, "that was more the domain of his sister, Ethwyn. Athgar was the quiet one."
"I can easily believe that. Does he take after his father?"
"To a certain extent, yes. Rothgar was a master bowyer, and Athgar always looked up to him."
"And what of his mother?"
"She died of a fever when he was quite young."
"It's a shame the Orcs couldn't have helped her," said Natalia.
"That was before Rothgar met the Orcs. We knew they were in the area, of course, but were not aware of their customs or the fact they had Life Magic."
"Did Rothgar die in the attack on Athelwald?"
"No," said Skora. "He was gored by a boar when Athgar was sixteen. After that, it was only Athgar and his sister."
"How old was Ethwyn at the time?"
"Fifteen."
"That must have been difficult."
"It was," admitted Athgar, "but Ethwyn was surrounded by friends. I tended to keep to myself."
"And yet you managed to survive, some might even say prosper," said Natalia.
"I kept my eye on them," said Skora.
"Well, I, for one, am grateful for that."
"What of your own childhood?"
"Mine?" said Natalia. "Why would that interest you?"
"You're having a child. It's only natural that one day they ask after your family."
"I have no family to speak of. My mother died when I was ten, murdered by agents of the Volstrum."
"The Volstrum?"
"The magical academy where I was taught."
"Had you no friends, dear?"
"Very few. Stanislav Voronsky was the closest thing to family I can recall. He was the mage hunter who brought me to the Volstrum."
"And he killed your mother?"
"No, that was someone else, a man named Nikolai. You know, I haven't thought about Stanislav for months. Does that make me a bad friend?"
"No," assured Skora, "it merely means you have been busy."
"What about you? Did you have a family?"
Skora carefully placed another log on the fire, then sat. "I was married, years ago, but he died. It seems the Gods did not look kindly upon us."
"I'm so sorry."
"It's all in the past now."
"And you never remarried?"
"It is not the Therengian way," Skora replied. "And by the time of his passing, I was beyond the age of child-bearing."
"Well," said Natalia, "we are your family now."
Outside, voices shouted out a challenge, interrupting their conversation.
"That sounds like Cenric's men," Athgar remarked. "I'd better have a look."
"Take care," warned Skora. "They are looking for an excuse."
"An excuse for what?"
"To arrest you," said the old woman.
"I doubt even King Eadred would stoop that low."
"Be careful," warned Natalia. "I shouldn't like to have anything happen to you."
He rose from his seat, setting down his knife and bow. "I will, don't worry."
Making his way to the door, he peered outside. Three warriors, armed with shields and spears, had their backs to him, talking to someone out of his view.
"Go back," one of them was saying. "You are not welcome here."
Athgar stepped outside. "What's going on here?"
Their leader, a man named Frithwald, turned his head. "It is the command of the king that no Orc shall be within the walls of Runewald without an escort."
"We have no walls," said Athgar in reply. He moved closer until his view of the Orcs was unobstructed, and then his face immediately broke into a grin.
"Natalia," he called out. "You'd better come and see this."
"What is it?" she asked as she opened the door.
"It appears we have visitors."
She was only three paces past the door when she saw them. "Shaluhk, Kargen, so good to see you!" She closed the distance quickly, her discomfort soon forgotten. Shaluhk was the first to feel her embrace while Athgar welcomed Kargen.
"Sister," said Shaluhk. "It is so good to see you again."
"And you," said Natalia, "but I don't understand. Weren't you travelling east?"
"We were," the shamaness replied, "but fate has sent us to your door."
"The tribe?" asked Athgar.
"Safely within the village of Ord-Ghadrak, guests of the Black Axe," replied Kargen.
Athgar took note of the third member of their party. "Urughar, good to see you again."
"And you, my friend."
The Therengian turned to the warriors. "It's all right, Frithwald. These are my guests. This is Kargen, Chieftain of the Red Hand, and their shamaness, Shaluhk."
Cenric's man stared back, his face growing red. He clearly wanted to say something, but the sight of the Orcs was intimidating, not to mention the thought of Athgar's Fire Magic. Instead, he simply nodded, then led his men away.
"I hope we have not caused trouble," said Kargen as Natalia embraced him.
"Nothing we can't handle," said Athgar.
"You have done well for yourself," said Shaluhk. "Is this your hut?"
"It is," said Natalia. "Now come inside, and I'll introduce you to Skora."
"The old woman?"
