Endless Adventure

The Orc King's Bride - Cecily Anne Winters (part 2)

When the time the orc king had granted her for preparations was up, Princess Amarante bid the queen dowager goodbye. Holding herself proudly, she stepped onto the carriage.

The way up the mountain was long and hard, and possibly dangerous. Her entourage was not huge, but not small either, and she had to smile whenever she thought of the potential surprise her husband-to-be would have when faced with all the humans she was bringing along.

As was common, a few selected guards were protecting their trip, to ensure all of them would arrive safely at their destination.

Amarante refused to look back, for she knew she would most likely break into tiny pieces and cry for all she had to leave behind. Instead, she used the frequent stops they had to make to have her guards train her. At first, they had been hesitant, but when they saw that she meant what she said, they eagerly taught her everything they knew. It didn’t take long for her to master the basics of sword fight and archery, and even the basic handling of a spear. She knew she would not win a real fight, for she wasn’t strong enough to hold her own for long, but she felt infinitely better to know that she would be able to defend herself if need be.

Her guards were so proud of her that they gifted her her own weapon. It was not a sword, for those were too heavy for her, but a long knife that she could hide beneath her clothes and still use it to protect herself.

The higher they went, the more off-putting the surroundings appeared. Everybody was strained, for they expected to be met by orcs any day now. Yet, the mountain felt abandoned the further up they went.

“I’m scared, Amara.” Gwen said, snuggling deeply into her woolen blanket. “How can everything be so… empty?”

Amarante sighed, looking at the small path they followed.

“I don’t know, Gwenny. It’s not at all like I expected this trip to be,” she confessed. “The orc king conveyed quite convincingly that he’d meet us about halfway up, but we’re well past that point and we’ve yet to see a single orc - and even other living beings are scarcely visible.”

“What if… what if this is a trap?”

“What for? He won over us, I wouldn’t see how a trap would benefit him.” Amara shook her head. There was something else, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. It had started the minute they put a foot onto the mountain. Whispers, wails, ghostly sounds, but only she heard them. For everybody else, the mountain was simply quiet, and possibly emptier than they were used to. But that might very well be due to the different fauna on a mountain - how would any of them know? None of them had ever had any dealings here before…

Still…

“Captain!” The princess waved towards the captain of her guards. She was tired of guessing, and she didn’t want to risk any of her people unnecessarily. This was to be their third night spent out in the wilderness, and frankly, she had had enough of it already.

When the man rode up to her, his smile was tight-lipped.

“Your highness.” He bowed, but she immediately saw that he was unusually tense.

“What is it?”

“I have sent two of the men up ahead to scout the route. One of them came back a short while ago. He seems… he has gone crazy.”

“Crazy? What about the other one?”

“He hasn’t returned yet, my lady.”

Amarante thought about it for a second. Orcs were known to be many things, but overly silent they were not. So, there must be something else going on.

“Let me see him.”

“Your highness, I don’t think…”

But she had already jumped out of her carriage. In the back of her head, a faint memory of something similar flickered to life. She needed to confirm it with her own eyes though, else they would surely not arrive at their destination.

Obediently, the captain of the guard unmounted and led her to the young man. She remembered him well; he was one of the first ones she’d trained with, always happy, always smiling. Now though, he looked like he had seen a ghost. His cheeks were hollow, he sported dark circles under his eyes, and spittle ran from his half open mouth. He sat in one of the transport carriages, and stared into nothingness.

On her request, their whole caravan stopped. Slowly, she went closer to the guard, her steps near silent. When she was merely a few steps away, she could feel the wind turning harsher, throwing whispers and wails at her. Its frosty fingers tugged at her hair and her clothes, trying to keep her away from the poor soul in front of her.

Holding her shawl tightly, Amara stepped closer still. She could see what ailed the guard now.

“You were shot by an elf…” she said, matter of factly. “So that is probably why we haven’t met an orc yet. The elves are trying to lead us astray…” Straightening, she looked upwards, towards where the next steep slabs of stone loomed threateningly above them. “… but I will not have it! Release him from your hold, and return my other man to me right this instance! I request this of you, elven folk!”

***

As far as Tris knew, the orcs lived close to the top of the mountain ahead, probably where there were still mostly meadows and shrubs. He couldn’t fathom that they’d live even higher up, when the top was always covered in snow and ice. Even for an orc that could not be comfortable, no?

Also, in his view that would be too far away from the birthing caves he had been to before. He doubted the orcs would leave their women without protection during birth…

Unfortunately, he didn’t own a horse, and Princess Amarante would probably be already far ahead of him. Yet, her train would not be traveling fast… and even if he would arrive later, he knew from his mother that orcs only married during full moons. The next one was still a ways off, so this would work out.

It had to.

“I only need to arrive before the consummation of the marriage…” he told himself, while setting a slightly faster than normal pace. “She’s so slender, I have no idea what the orc king was thinking.”

Soon, he saw the main path in front of him. It was wide and rather comfortable, but would get steep and slippery later. His chest still ached from the ritual his mother had performed the night before, and he put his hand over his heart. She had gifted him with her own familiar, a beautiful and intelligent crow called Berta.

He shook his head, still incredulous at what she’d done. Normally, only the first born witch had a familiar, usually inherited by her mother, while mages like him were gifted with much stronger magic. To be granted such a rare and exciting gift…

Whistling for Berta, he heard her answering croak high above him. It had a questioning lilt to it. Did she want to know why he’d called her?

“Berta, can you please fly ahead and look for Princess Amarante’s train? Or try to find the orc lair for me? Any of these would be a great help for me.”

The familiar landed on a tree nearby, looking at him from her coal-black eyes, tilting her head this way and that to get a better read on him. When she had seen in him what she needed, she croaked again.

“Which one is more important, you ask? Hmm… I believe finding the entrance might be overall more important. Maybe you could first scout that one, and if you happen to find the princess on your way back…”

The crow snickered at him. He was tempted to throw a pebble at her, but refrained from this childish behavior. They were tied together now, and hurting her would mean hurting himself…

Shaking his head, he continued his march upwards. From what he knew from his mother, Berta would do whatever she wanted anyway, but he hoped that she’d also find the princess. How he wished he could see her again, and save her from the clutches of the orc king! Apart from being nearly inhumanly beautiful, she had asked intelligent questions and her final request had been very well thought through. He had felt it in the way she worded it.

Because he had not seen a reason not to, he had granted her desire and magically… fortified her. She was clever enough to realize her body’s limitations regarding the potential birth of a half-orc baby, but this would help her.

He sighed, then surveyed the peak of the mountain.

“I hope I’ll be on time to prevent this from happening. I wish… you could be mine instead.”

***

Laughter met Princess Amarante’s request. It echoed around them loudly, frightening the horses and scaring the people and yet, the princess stood straight and proud.

She had expected as much, for she knew the hidden people all too well.

Closing her eyes, she ignored the hollow sounds as best she could and focused on the feeling of the wind and the icy pricks instead. With one last, deep breath she unsheathed her knife and moving swiftly, she purposefully sliced the invisible force she felt in front of her.

“Reveal yourself! I command it!”

Her voice had taken on a heavy tone, commanding obedience. The air around her came to life. It shimmered and crackled with energy, while the unnerving laughter was replaced by an inhuman scream. Where her knife had struck, a line of blood appeared out of nowhere, droplets of red splashing the ground below. And yet, she wouldn’t budge nor be satisfied. Instead, she repeated her behest:

“Reveal yourself, elf! Or your life shall be mine forever.”

Suddenly, an elf appeared in front of her. Where she had sliced his stomach, he clutched his wound as best he could.

“Piuthar—” the handsome man said, “please, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you but only to obey my queen’s command. Please, don’t bind me.”

“Release my men, and I’ll spare you.”

He bowed his head, and murmured something.

“We were only trying to change our own fate. But I can see now that ours is tied to yours. So take this, it might be of help.”

Not giving her time to protest, he handed her a little trinket on a leathery ribbon and disappeared again. The guard in the carriage sat up, looking around himself bewildered. Above them, the missing guard waved from a rock. Putting his hands around his mouth like a funnel, he hollered:

“I have found them! I found the orcs! It’s not far anymore!”

***

Berta proved to be invaluable to him during his ascend on the mountain. It hadn’t taken her long to find the orcs. He now knew that he wasn’t too far away anymore, and that reinvigorated him. The crow had shown him the way as well as given him a pretty good idea on how the area around their lair looked like.

When he finally arrived at the plateau, he was out of breath. The orcs busily milled around the carriages on which Princess Amarante and her entourage had arrived. He smiled, satisfied to see that she was still safely seated. The orc king himself was nowhere to be seen yet.

Meticulously, Tris skirted around the edges of the area. He didn’t want to risk being seen by the orcs before he was close enough to be of use. Movement drew his gaze to where the orc king appeared.

Tris had seen many orcs but he was impressed by the pure size of this one. He was easily a head taller than all the others around him, and quite burly. As was common, he was bare chested. His belt told the tale of all his victories, adorned with shiny parts of his slain opponents’ armors and the occasional gemstone.

He swallowed. The orc king was a truly formidable opponent. Yet, the closer the king stepped to the princess, the faster Tris became until, without realizing it, he was running directly towards the orc and his bride. Caution thrown into the wind, hands tingling from the magic that wanted to spring forth and take away his princess to a safe place, he couldn’t have stopped if he had wanted to.

When the orcs detected him, they threw darts and spears towards him, Protected by an unknown force, none of them came close. The orc king had been extending his hand to help the princess exiting her carriage. When he realized what was going on, he bellowed commands at his fighters to close the ranks and keep the intruder away from them.

But nothing could stop Tris. He felt like he was carried through the orc warriors who scrambled to follow their king’s bidding. The wind itself diverted arrows and the mountain seemed to shake away the orcs trying to step into his path.

Finally, he skidded to a halt in front of the orc king. Although he had run, he wasn’t out of breath. Instead, he felt at the peak of his strength, fortified by an invisible and invincible armor. He didn’t know what had come over him, but he was grateful for all the help he received and prayed to the gods that it would stay with him through what was to come.

“Master Tris!” Princess Amarante exclaimed, surprised. At the same time, the orc king shouted:

“Intruder! You shall die from my own hand!”

“It’s you who shall die today, king of orcs, for I challenge you to your position and to the hand of your lovely bride!”

The orc king paused, staring at the measly human incredulously.

“You must be mad. But alas, stupid human, let us fight. Your ring will make a great addition to my collection!”

With that, the king jumped at him, not bothering drawing a weapon. He’d crush the insolent human with his bare hands!

Tris quickly jumped back, out of the orc’s reach. He didn’t want to draw on his fire ring’s powers, for he feared for the princess’ safety. Instead, he called on Berta. Like lightening his familiar shot at the orc, skillfully using her claws and wings to scratch at his eyes.

The orc had not been prepared for the crow. He swatted at her, but she was already gone again. Croaking victoriously as she had taken one of his eyes.

Blood ran down his face from an empty socket, but he turned around to attack the mage again. Berta had pushed them away from the humans, so Tris’ hands shot a barrage of fire balls at the king, engulfing him in flames. Roaring in pain, he flung himself to the ground and rolled around to extinguish them but to no avail.

Tris leaped at the burning orc and plunged the little black knife into his throat, using his magic and the knife to sever the head clean off the body. Remembering his mother’s words, he swiftly cut out the orc king’s heart. Holding it in front of him, he shouted:

“The king of orcs is dead, long live the orc king!” Grimacing, he ate it as fast as he could.

Around him, the orcs answered as one:

“Long live the orc king!”

***

“Master Tris! You really… I thought… Oh, Tris!” Princess Amarante couldn’t believe it. Tristan had really killed the orc king!

She jumped out of the carriage and ran towards her mage. Yes, he was her mage now, for he was also the orc king and she was to be wed to him.

“Are you alright? Can I… Gwen! Bring some water!” She wanted nothing more than to fall into his arms, but he wouldn’t have it.

“Princess… please. Give me a moment to freshen myself, for I am not fit to look into your eyes right now. I just ate… a…” He grimaced.

Amara halted for a second, staring at his grime-streaked, bloody face. The face of her beloved Tris. She didn’t give a damn about how he looked. He had fought the orc for her, and he had won, and she would burst if she couldn’t hug him right now.

But she waited until he was cleaned before she jumped into his arms. He barely had time to react and catch her.

“Tris! I love you!”

“I love you too, Amarante.”

Gently, he settled her back on the ground. Slowly, he leaned forward until their lips touched, oh so softly. She sighed, and the elfen trinket she had placed around her neck started to glow. It glowed until a tiny, silvery spark detached itself from it, hovering between the two of them.

When they ended the kiss, the spark rose to Tris’ forehead from where it spread until all of him shone in an intense silver light. The ring on his finger added its golden shimmer to the light. Together, they shot upwards, high into the sky. There, they spread into a glittering net that spanned the whole sky, before floating to the ground and vanishing.

Both the orcs and the humans had watched the spectacle in awe, but it was her elfen brother who broke the silence.

“The magic… it has returned!”

The End

For more from Cecily Anne Winters:

Author Pen name: Cecily Anne Winters

The Mer King (In.kitt)

Author groups/websites/pages:

- Ti.kT.ok: cecilyawinters

- Fac.eb.ook: Winter' Wondrous Worlds

- In.kitt: CA Winters’s Profile - In.kitt

You can also read more of her short stories in the Scribble Nook Anthology collection.