from THE UNDERGOD
FARCHRIST TALES - BOOK THREE
Speculative Fiction
Approximately 69,000 words
Copyright © Eric Lanke, 1991. All rights reserved.
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Near the end of Farchrist Year Eighty-Six, my mother gave birth to
me in the small room where she slept in the back of The Quarter Pony. She had
been working there for nearly eight months, saving her earnings so she would
have enough money to care for her newborn son. When the fact of her pregnancy
became apparent, some rumors circulated around town about Otis being the
father. He denied these accusations out of hand, but in all other ways, he
treated the expectant Amanda as if she was his responsibility. He cared for
her, watched over what and how much she ate, and when the time for delivery was
near, he hired a part-time replacement waitress while still continuing to pay
Amanda her salary. Indeed, when the labor pains struck, it was Otis who ran to
fetch the midwife. Two minutes after I was born, I was placed in the arms of my
loving mother. Two minutes after that, Amanda allowed Otis to hold me.
+
+ +
Smurch and Brisbane talked long
into the night, long after the last of the orks had fallen asleep around the
campfire outside the circus wagon. As they talked, they began to fashion the
semblance of a friendship between them, each finding likable traits present in the
other.
Smurch told Brisbane many things
about the orkish clan he had found himself in the middle of, and Brisbane told
Smurch much about himself and many of the rumors he had heard growing up about
orks. When Smurch heard these rumors, he sometimes had to clamp both hands over
his large mouth to stifle the laughs that erupted.
Smurch said this clan called
themselves the Clan of the Red Eye, as could be seen by the decoration on their
shields, after the reputed color of Gruumsh’s one eye. The structure of the
clan’s society was very rigid, with clearly defined upper and lower classes.
The lower class were those who lived on the surface, outside the cave, and it
included all the women and children and most of the men. The upper class lived
in the cave that bored into one of the Windcrest Hills. It included the Sumak,
the Grumak, and their bodyguards and henchmen. The easiest way to tell a lower
class ork from an upper class one was to listen to his name. The lower class
all had one-syllable names, except for the women who had no names at all, and
the upper class all had two-syllable names. The Sumak had a three-syllable
name. Therefore, Vrak and Plog, which Smurch said was Floppy’s real name, were
members of the lower class and Ternosh was a member of the upper. The Sumak at
this time was an ork named Tornestor, who happened to be Ternosh’s brother.
Brisbane found it very unusual
that the female orks had no names. He questioned Smurch about it, and the
half-ork revealed that, to the grugan, a name was tied to one’s skill in
combat. The orkish women were not warriors, so they deserved no names. The way
it worked was that upon the age of maturity, sixteen, a young male could choose
a one-syllable name for himself, usually starting it with the same letter of his
father’s name, out of respect. If his skill in armed combat increased enough in
the coming years, the Sumak could choose him to join his personal guard, or the
upper class. The ork would then be allowed to choose a second syllable for his
name. There were constant challenges of combat amongst members of the upper
class and, through such a process, the ork could theoretically rise to the
position of Sumak itself. The third syllable was then added and he reigned
until he was struck down from below.
It was a very efficient system for
keeping the best warriors in the ruling class and it had been done that way for
centuries. As far as Smurch knew, there had never been a woman who had taken a
name and tried to compete in the tests of combat, but there wasn’t any law he
knew of that said one couldn’t. It just had never been done before.
The position of Grumak was handled
a bit differently than the chain of command that led up to the clan chief.
Smurch did not know as much about it, but about once in every generation, an
ork would be born with the mark of Gruumsh One-Eye—red eyes. These orks were
immediately taken in by the existing Grumak, to be trained in his ways, and
were given two-syllable names. Smurch did not know how the Grumak’s powers
worked, but he did know that when an elder Grumak died, and one of his
apprentices had to take his place, the apprentice had to pluck out his own left
eye to emulate the appearance of their orkish god. To his knowledge, no female
ork had ever been born with red eyes.
Smurch affirmed for Brisbane that
the powers of a Grumak were very real, and that if Ternosh had said he had cast
an anti-magic spell on the circus wagon, Brisbane could just bet that was what
had been done.
Brisbane reflected on all he had
been told about orkish—or grugan, as Smurch had said—society. He could see some
parallels in it with human society, especially in the class system, but it
seemed brutal in the extreme. When the measure of a man was his skill in mortal
combat, death had to be as commonplace as arguments. The self-mutilation of
their religious leaders shocked Brisbane and he wondered what kind of god would
demand such a sacrifice on behalf of himself. Although he had yet to see how
the males treated their females, the fact that the women hadn’t even the right
to a name did quite a bit to illustrate the conditions. And he had first-hand
experience as to how the orks treated their prisoners and those, like Smurch,
who were in the least bit different.
Smurch told him something else
that night about orkish society and life in the Clan of the Red Eye, and
perhaps this told Brisbane more about what he had gotten himself into than
anything Smurch has said so far. At Brisbane’s urging, Smurch told him the
orkish story of creation.
In the beginning, when the gods came to the earth to populate it
with races of their creation, there were six of them. Grecolus was the god of
the humans, Corellon Larethian the god of the elves, Moradin the god of the
dwarves, Garl Glittergold the god of the gnomes, Yondalla the god of the
halflings, and Gruumsh One-Eye the god of the grugan.
Brisbane had heard mention of all
these races, but had almost no exposure to most of them. He had lived among
humans all his life. Stargazer had elven blood in her veins, but he did not
know if and where any full-blooded elves still lived. Shortwhiskers was the
only dwarf he had ever gotten to know, although he had seen a few of them in
his life, and there was a sizable dwarven nation living north of Farchrist
Castle in the Crimson Mountains. Brisbane had never seen either a gnome or a
halfling, but it was said they flourished in other parts of the world, and he
was now being held captive by a clan of orks. Again, his teachings had taught
him Grecolus had created all of these races along with the world, but
apparently the other races disagreed with this belief.
These six gods gathered together and drew lots to see in which
parts of the world their respective races would dwell. Grecolus drew the lot
which allowed humans to dwell wherever they pleased, in any environment.
Corellon Larethian drew the lot of green forests. Moradin drew the one for the
high mountains, Garl Glittergold picked the lot for the rocky, sunlit hills,
and Yondalla was left with the fields and meadows. Then the assembled gods
turned to Gruumsh and they laughed, mocking him.
“All the lots are taken,” they taunted. “Where will your people
dwell, One-Eye? There is no place left!”
There was silence upon the world then as Gruumsh One-Eye lifted
his great iron spear and stretched it over the world. The shaft blotted out of
the sun over a great part of the lands as he spoke, “No! You lie! You have
rigged the drawing of the lots, hoping to cheat me and my followers. But
One-Eye never sleeps. One-Eye sees all. There is a place for the grugan to
dwell…here!” he bellowed, and his spear pierced the mountains, opening mighty
rifts and chasms. “And here!” and the spearhead split the hills and made them
shake and covered them in dust. “And here!” and the black spear gouged the
meadows and made them bare.
“There!” roared He-Who-Watches triumphantly, and his voice carried
to the ends of the world. “There is where the grugan shall dwell! There they
will survive, and multiply, and grow stronger, and a day will come when they
will cover the world, and they shall slay all of your collected peoples. The
grugan shall inherit the world you sought to cheat me of!”
Brisbane listened carefully to the
entire story and then repeated it to Smurch to make sure he had it right.
Brisbane was privately shocked by the tale. Here was a mythology, an entire
culture, based on vengeance and the promise of victory over life-long enemies.
Brisbane had felt the current leaders of Grecolus’ religion had twisted it into
something similar—the promise of victory over the enemies of your beliefs in
the afterlife and the vindication that comes with knowing that although you
suffered, you were right all along—but at least that sentiment was a human
corruption and not the law set down by a god. It appeared, however, that orks
had that law, set down by Gruumsh One-Eye himself at the beginning of time when
he lost in the fixed game of the other deities, a law to wage unending war
against those who wronged them in the name of their rightful place in society
and in the name of their god.
Hate, murder, and revenge were the
cardinal virtues of the orks and Brisbane realized he would have to somehow
adapt to them or he was going to have a very short future indeed. He asked
Smurch exactly what was going to happen to him tomorrow, just how Ternosh was
going to test his magic powers, but Smurch could tell him nothing, being wholly
unfamiliar with the ways of the Grumak. Brisbane did not like it, but it
appeared he would have to wait and see.
When Smurch had talked himself out,
Brisbane returned the favor and told the half-ork a little about himself, where
he was from, and how he had gotten there. He told him about the friends he had
been separated from and about the journey they had made into the Crimson
Mountains. He told him about the temple they had found at the source of the
Mystic and about the shrine located farther down the river. He told him about
the mission to rescue Roundtower and the decision to do the same for Dantrius.
He told him about Stargazer’s powers and the meeting of Ellahannah deep in the
Shadowhorn. He told him about his life in Scalt and being raised by his mother
and Otis.
There was a lot to tell, more than
Brisbane had thought there would be. Smurch listened patiently to him as
Brisbane had to the half-ork and, at times, even seemed engrossed. Brisbane
tried to tell Smurch some of the ways in which the religion of Grecolus
differed from that of Gruumsh One-Eye, but the half-ork did not seem interested
in this information. What Smurch seemed really interested in was the
experiences Brisbane had with magic.
Smurch’s experience and teaching
both agreed that only the Grumak of a clan could have the gift of
He-Who-Watches, the ability to work magic. Brisbane told him of another world
entirely, a world in which anyone could have this gift, for in that world, it
was not a gift at all. It was a talent everyone had, in varying degrees, that
could be nurtured and tended until it bloomed into proliferation. Smurch said
he found this hard to believe, but in all honesty, he could tell Brisbane
thought it was true.
Brisbane was frankly amazed at how
easily Smurch listened to his claims that differed so drastically from what the
half-ork had been taught and believed. Brisbane was used to dealing with people
who were bound to shout out blasphemy at the drop of a hat and run screaming
away from alternative ideas. Brisbane supposed it was because of the
multi-theistic universe that seemed to exist for all the other races except
humans. To humans, there was only one true god, and belief, worship, and
discussion of other gods was forbidden. To the orks, their god was only one of
many, a number of an elite group that reigned in dominion over the world. There
were other gods, and therefore other religions, and therefore other beliefs.
Brisbane had noticed each race thought their god was the strongest of the
group—just look at the humans, who made their god so powerful, no other deities
could even share the universe with him. This loyalty was understandable to
Brisbane, but he wondered where it would fall in the case of half-breeds.
Stargazer was a half-elf and she worshipped the human god Grecolus. Smurch was
a half-ork and he worshipped the orkish god Gruumsh One-Eye. But how did each
of them make their decision? Being of two races, did they not have two gods?
Just who were these gods in which
thousands put so much faith? Were they real beings, different from Brisbane and
all powerful? Were they just ideals? Were they separate or were they all the
same with different names?
Eventually, Brisbane and Smurch
bedded down for the night amidst the dirty straw of the cage and the loud
snores of the orks around the dying campfire. Before falling asleep, Brisbane
felt the need to relieve his bladder, for the first time since he had been
taken captive by the orks. He winced when he realized just how little liquid
was passing through his system. He went over to the bars facing away from the
sleeping orks, dropped his pants and pointed his spray out through the bars.
The process hurt a little and that bothered him. It could mean all the abuse he
had taken had not just been external. Something inside of him could be
seriously damaged after the treatment Vrak had given his gut with his fist.
Luckily, his urine was clear and free of blood, otherwise Brisbane might have
sat up all night worrying, quaking at every tremor of discomfort he felt in his
midsection. What he wouldn’t give to have Stargazer here to ply her craft on
his injuries.
Brisbane shook his head.
As long as he was wishing, what he
wouldn’t give to be where Stargazer was so she could ply her craft on his
injuries.
Brisbane finished his job and
pulled up his trousers. He turned around and saw Smurch laying quietly in the
straw at his feet. He looked up and saw the sleeping forms of the orks around
the remains of the campfire. Besides their snores, there was not a sound to be
heard in the settlement. The cave mouth yawned blackly in the darkness and no
one had come out of it since the sun had gone down.
Brisbane crept over to the door of
his cage. The time had come. He was going to see just how much power this
Ternosh had and how far he could run before his disappearance could be
discovered. He reached the door and snaked one of his arms through the bars,
reaching down in an attempt to grasp the padlock that secured the door. He
found he could do it. He could hold the lock in his hand. If his magic opened
it, he could reach down and take it off the door latch. He could get free.
But what of Ternosh’s anti-magic
spell? The Grumak had said no magic would work in his cage, but how could that
be? How could you prevent another person’s magic from working? In all he had
learned from Roystnof, Brisbane could not recall any spell, power, or process
that would make this possible. Of course, Roystnof’s magic was not all the
magic there was, as Dantrius had illustrated. Ternosh could have this power
even if Roystnof did not.
The only thing to do was to try it
and if it worked, it worked, and if it didn’t, it didn’t. Brisbane’s mind did
offer him one glimmer of hope on the subject. The lock was outside his cage, and maybe it would not be affected by the
anti-magic. It was a slim hope to have, but perhaps it would be enough.
Brisbane held his hand outside the wagon, twisted his fingers into the proper
position, and began to concentrate on turning the tumblers in the lock.
“What are you doing?”
Brisbane’s concentration broke. He
pulled his hand back inside the wagon and turned around to face Smurch. The
half-ork was standing there in the darkness, his hands on his hips and his feet
placed shoulder-width apart.
Brisbane was not sure what he
should say. “Nothing,” he eventually decided on.
“What do you mean, nothing? You
were doing something.”
Brisbane decided, that in their
short time together, he had fashioned enough of a friendship with Smurch to be
honest with him now. Besides, he couldn’t very well carry through with his plan
now without Smurch figuring it out.
“I was trying to open the lock,”
Brisbane said. “I’m getting out of here if I can.”
“Without the key?” Smurch said.
“You’re not strong enough to break that lock with your bare hands. I doubt if
anyone is.”
“I wasn’t going to break it open,
Jack.”
“Well, then, what were you doing?”
“I was trying to spell it open,” Brisbane
said. “I know a spell that will open it if Ternosh’s magic will allow it.”
Brisbane was not sure how Smurch was going to react.
“It won’t,” Smurch said. “The
Grumak has the power to do what he says. But please, don’t let that stop you.
Go right ahead.”
Brisbane’s brow wrinkled. “What?”
“Go ahead,” Smurch said. “I’m not
going to stop you. I must admit, part of me wants to see you do it. A human
Grumak is something unheard of, and if you are genuine, you’re going to set the
grugan world on its ear.”
“What if I open it, Jack?”
Brisbane asked suddenly. “What if I do have some magic powers? What if I am a
human Grumak and I do open this door?”
Smurch looked dumbly at Brisbane.
“What if you do, Gil?”
“Will you raise some sort of
alarm? Wake those orks up?”
Smurch smiled. “How could I do
that if I’m sleeping?”
Brisbane smiled back. He turned
again to the door, stretched his arm out the barred window, and began the
simple little spell that would open the padlock.
Tumble, his mind commanded the tumblers and, helplessly, they did as
they were told. Brisbane heard them click into place and the lock fell open. He
picked it off the door and brought it inside with his arm. He turned around and
held it up in front of Smurch.
“I did it,” Brisbane said, remembering
to keep his voice low. “It worked, Jack.”
Smurch took the lock from
Brisbane’s hand and examined it. “So it has, Gil. I can’t believe it even with
the proof in my hands. You are a Grumak.”
“It was a simple spell, Jack.
Roystnof, my friend and teacher, calls it a cantrip. My power is not that
great.”
“Your power is very great indeed
if it can overcome Ternosh’s magic,” Smurch said almost reverently. “The spell
may have been minor, but your power cannot be.”
Brisbane did not want to argue the
point. He wanted to get out of there. He extended a hand to Smurch and the
half-ork numbly shook it.
“Glad we met, Jack, but I hope you
understand when I say I never want to meet you again. At least not under these
circumstances.”
Smurch looked at him oddly.
“You’re going? You’re really a Grumak. You can’t leave. He-Who-Watches must
have sent you here for a reason.”
Brisbane shook his head. “My power
does not come from your god, Jack. I may be a sorcerer of sorts, but I am not a
Grumak. I do not worship Gruumsh One-Eye.”
“But your power is real…” Smurch
said, trailing off, obviously having trouble with the contradiction.
Brisbane cut to the heart of the
matter. “Jack, I now have no time for this. Grumak or not, you promised not to
raise a fuss if I escaped. Are you going to be true to your word?”
Smurch straightened up. “Grugan
are men of their words, Gil. I now regret making the promise, but I will not
break it.” He handed the lock back to Brisbane. “Here. Lock me in when you
leave. It will add to the mystery.”
Brisbane took the lock. “Goodbye,
Jack.”
“Farewell, Gil.”
Brisbane then went to the door and
quietly pushed it open. He stepped out into the night, shut and relocked the
door behind him, and began to creep away from the prison that had once held him.
Brisbane knew he was far from free. He had the entire ork settlement to steal
through unnoticed and, although it was a dark night, it would be foolish to
think everyone was asleep and dreaming of vengeance against other races. He
trotted along, low to the ground, and tried not to make any noise.
Soon he was entirely away from the
circus wagons and the cluster of orks sleeping by the cave mouth, and into the
body of the settlement itself. The open ground seemed deserted and Brisbane
hoped all the nameless ork women had all their noisy children inside the tents
or the ramshackle buildings, sleeping quietly and nestled against their big
breasts. One tiny insomniac or one questing for a drink of midnight water could
spell death for him.
Things went well as he bounded as
quickly as he dared across the scrubland. Brisbane began to believe he might be
able to make it out when he remembered the Dogmaster and his animal he had met
on his way into the camp. Surely the perimeter would be guarded at night, probably
more so than it was during the day. Brisbane remembered the large kennel he had
heard and seen and imagined all those trained dogs ready to chase him down and
rip out his throat. One of them had already smelled him. One of them already
knew his scent. He knew it was foolish to think he could outrun trained dogs,
even if he got lucky and made it through the perimeter guards. If only he had
some kind of weapon to protect himself. If only he had—
Brisbane stopped in his tracks
just like the flow of his thoughts. A chill swept through him and rattled
around in his vertebrae for as many as five full seconds. Just what in the
hells did he think he was doing? Even if he could kill the Dogmasters and their
dogs just by looking at them, he couldn’t escape from the encampment yet. If he
did, he would be leaving Angelika behind.
The thought seemed utterly foreign
to Brisbane and for a moment he questioned if it could possibly be his. But of
course it was. It was in his own head. Angelika was the greatest weapon in the
world and with her, Brisbane had already overcome impossible odds and defeated
monstrous evil. What could he do without her? He had to go back. She had
promised him they would have their revenge on these orks if he was just patient
and strong, and here he was running out at the first opportunity like a coward.
He had to go back and wait for his chance to reclaim her.
I have to go back. I have to go back for Angelika. What am I
without her?
And so Brisbane turned and
silently made his way back through the settlement to the circus wagon where he
had been caged. His reasons for doing so made quite a bit of sense to him at
the time, although they might seem strange to the uninformed observer. The
truth of the matter, a truth Brisbane would not discover for quite some time,
was not that Brisbane refused to leave Angelika, but that Angelika refused to
let Brisbane leave her. That was the kind of power she had. Angelika always
managed to stay in the hands of the best warrior in the area and, right now,
that warrior was Gildegarde Brisbane III.
Brisbane arrived back at the door
of the circus wagon, the decision to stay now firmly planted in his brain. He
turned the tumblers of the padlock with his little spell, climbed back into the
wagon, and locked himself in again.
Smurch scrambled out of the straw.
“What’s going on?”
“I can’t leave, Jack,” Brisbane
said. “They’ve still got my sword.”
“Your sword?” Smurch said. “You
came back for your sword?”
Brisbane nodded. “I came back for
my sword.”