Page 9

Chapter Eight

Korik

Korik lingered near the back of the group as they made their way south. The elves seemed understandably nervous around him, so he did his best to keep a respectful distance without straying too far from the group. In the latter half of the day, though, his pace was slowed more by the aching of his feet than anything else. He couldn’t remember the last time that he’d walked so much on foot. When it had been only him and Varen, the journey somehow seemed less difficult; but maybe that had just been the adrenaline of it all. And he hadn’t been trying to keep up with horses, no matter how slow their pace.

But he kept his head down and did his best not to fall too far behind. The other elves on foot seemed to fare no better than him, though; and by the time the sun was touching the horizon, they were preparing to make camp.

Alwyn, the mage, seemed much improved as he hopped down from his horse. Korik approached him, pulling the little vial out of his pocket.

“I wanted to ask you something,” he said when the elf noticed him, glancing up with a questioning expression. He showed Alwyn the vial; the elf had no outward reaction. “Is this what they were giving you? Do you remember?”

Alwyn looked at it for a moment. “I think it is. I don’t remember well, but... I think that’s it.”

“Do you know what it is?” Korik asked. Alwyn’s expression darkened, so Korik added nervously, “I’ve never seen anything like it before... which concerns me.”

“No,” Alwyn said, shaking his head. “I don’t know what it is, either. Your knowledge of the matter is surely more thorough than my own.”

Whether he was referring to his profession as a healer or just the fact that he was an orc, Korik could not tell. It didn’t matter either way, since he had no idea what the tincture was, so he only nodded and put the vial back in his pocket.

“I will do some research,” he said, shrugging. “See if I can sort out an antidote to it, too. How are you feeling today?”

Alwyn’s expression seemed to lighten somewhat. “Better, thank you. I think tomorrow I should be fine walking rather than riding.”

“If you start feeling unwell, let me know,” Korik offered, and the elf nodded.

“Thank you,” he said, already sounding distracted. “I’m going to go help set up camp.”

He turned and walked away without waiting for Korik to respond. He wasn’t sure if he should feel embarrassed at the sudden end of their exchange. Part of him felt a little annoyed, perhaps; but people had always been short with him, elf and orc alike. He would never be a good conversationalist, so he couldn’t blame them for wanting to leave the conversation.

He found Varen easily enough; the commander was directing the elves, assigning some to start on the tents, others to start a fire, and the rest to scavenge for food to supplement the rations they’d looted. The elf’s hazel eyes lingered on Korik as he approached, but he did not address him directly until the other elves around him had all been assigned jobs.

“I have a task for you,” he said, not quite meeting Korik’s eyes. “I won’t be able to scout as well as I did with this large of a group to manage. I need you to scout for me. Morning and night, ideally.”

Korik bristled. “That is... a lot.”

“But you can do it, can’t you?” Varen pressed. “You’ve been doing the same when it was just us. I know you don’t want anyone else finding out, but... It would keep everyone safe. If nothing else, it would make me feel more at ease.”

Korik wanted to protest again; he hated how presumptuous it was, as if Varen could demand such things from him. He’d made it clear that he didn’t even want to admit his abilities to the elf, except that they had been in an emergency. Now things were much less urgent, yet Varen still meant to use him, as if he were some tool that existed only for his benefit.

Despite the anger rising in his chest, Korik couldn’t bring himself to refuse entirely. There was some truth to what Varen said, after all—it would be harder for the commander to scout now that they had such a large group. And Korik could do it. There had been no sign that they would be followed, but that could change at any time.

It would be the practical thing to do, no matter how he felt about Varen being the one to all but demand it of him.

“First, I want to reiterate something,” Korik finally replied, looking down at his feet to avoid having to look the elf in the face. He hated speaking like this. “I am not yours to command. You may request things of me, but I am no soldier to be steered as you see fit. I have no obligation to you, save for the care I provide Enriel.”

He could hear Varen suck in a sharp breath; but before the elf could protest, he continued quickly, “I will scout once a day, twice if I can. Not because you’re telling me to. But because I can recognize it’s the best way to keep everyone safe. Which I want as much as you do, if you can believe it.”

“I’m not commanding you,” Varen interjected, and Korik scoffed.

“You certainly did not ask me,” he replied, and Varen seemed to have no reply to that. “I trusted you with that knowledge. Knowledge that was never meant to be shared. Please don’t make me regret it.”

For a long moment, Varen did not respond. Korik kept his eyes firmly down at the ground, feeling heat and worry rising in his face with every passing second. Despite everything, he didn’t want the elf to be upset with him—he couldn’t pinpoint why , but the thought of Varen being angry at him made him feel even worse.

Finally, though, the elf let out a soft chuckle. “I think that might be the most you’ve ever said to me, healer,” he said. Korik glanced up at him in concern; but Varen only had a small, chagrined smirk on his face now. “And you’re right. I didn’t ask. And you are no soldier for me to command. I apologize. It’s... difficult to break out of that mindset, sometimes. But I will try harder.”

Korik flushed, taken aback. He hadn’t expected the arrogant commander to back down so easily, to agree with him so readily. What was he supposed to say now?

“I...” he stammered. “Er. Thank you. I appreciate the apology.”

“Just... Please scout when you can, and keep me updated,” Varen said, still smirking. “And if I start bossing you around again, you can call me out on it.”

He couldn’t imagine doing so, especially if it were happening in front of the other elves, but Korik nodded anyway.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Varen added, then turned to walk away. Korik watched him go for a moment; he couldn’t quite place the trepidation he felt in his chest. He had been preparing himself for an argument that never came—he should have been relieved, yet it still felt like adrenaline was coursing through him.

But eventually, he shook himself into action and went to find a secluded place amongst the trees to scout. He’d just have to be more vigilant now that there were more elves around.

It took nearly four days for their group to get back onto the path that Korik recognized as leading to Castle Aefraya. In that time, he’d kept his word to Varen and had used the vision of local birds to scout the surrounding areas, most often in the evening as the elves prepared to set up camp, and occasionally in the early mornings if he awoke before everyone else. There was no sign of them being followed, and no sign of any other groups of orcs nearby. This was historically a territory that few orcs roamed, since it was so near to where the oft-disputed Aefrayan border once stood. Korik hoped it would remain just as empty until they were well and truly into the elven nation.

He had also checked up on both Alwyn and Enriel as much as they would allow. After the second day, Alwyn stiffly told him that he was back to full health and did not need any looking after, so Korik left him alone after that. Enriel, though, seemed eager for Korik to check on her and her baby every day, even when there was nothing new to report.

“Are you able to see if it’s a boy or girl?” she blurted out on the third evening, her voice quivering as if she had been considering the question for days, but had only just now convinced herself to ask him. Korik paused, considering.

“It’s not quite like seeing it, no,” he replied slowly. “But I think I could figure it out if you wanted me to. I could examine its internal organs to determine which it has. Or... I suppose it might be harder to tell, for elves. But I could try if you want.”

Enriel bit her lip, looking down at the slight swell of her belly. Beneath her tunic it was all but impossible to see—Korik suspected the orcs who had captured her hadn’t even realized she was pregnant—but now she pressed her hands to her stomach, pulling the loose cloth taut.

“No, it’s okay,” she finally said, looking back up at Korik with a nervous smile. “It’s just… I’m curious, of course. But I think I like it being a surprise better.”

Korik only nodded—his work was the same either way.

Between scouting in secret and checking up on Enriel before nightfall, Korik hadn’t had the chance to study the paralytic tincture more closely. When he thought of it, he could practically feel the weight of the little glass vial sitting in his belt pouch. Was it something developed by another orc somewhere? He had never seen anything like it, but also doubted that the rebel orcs were working with any outside force for supplies like this. Curious as he was, by the end of the night, he was usually too exhausted to spare the effort to examine it further. Maybe the elves in Castle Aefraya could tell him more about it.

Korik woke early on the morning of the fifth day and considered spending the brief time he would have alone with the tincture to see if he could learn anything about it with his magic. But scouting was the more pressing matter, he knew, so he decided he would deal with the mysterious drug once they were safely in Aefraya.

So he slipped away quietly into the nearby brush to find a secluded place. There was little tree cover, and the land was hilly and covered in all sorts of grass. Finally, he found an overgrown berry bush at the bottom of the next hill and cleared a spot behind it to sit.

He could only find small scavenger birds this time; they would do the job, but it was easier to search longer distances with something larger, like an owl or a hawk. Still, the area had been clear so far, and with so little tree cover, he could see a good distance without needing to get terribly high, so it would do for now.

He had been scouting for only a few minutes when he felt something wrenching his shoulder—not as the bird, but in his true body. For an instant, he was blind with terror, as he dropped his hold on the bird all at once. Had he somehow missed some nearby predator that had snuck up on him?

He could hear voices around him as he came back to himself, but couldn’t make any sense of them for a moment—they were speaking elvish, and he couldn’t focus enough to understand.

“There you are,” Varen’s familiar voice finally broke through to him. He swung his head back and forth until he found the elf, hazel eyes coming into focus until the rest of the world followed suit.

Korik scrambled to his feet; behind Varen, Alwyn was looking at him with a distrustful, nearly hostile expression. He had no weapons, but Korik knew well that the elf had no need of weapons to harm him.

“See? Just as I told you,” Varen said, his tone still light as he glanced back at Alwyn. “Just deep in meditation. I’ve seen him do it a hundred times before. No cause for concern.”

“I—” Korik stammered, still trying to understand what was happening. “Er, yes. Meditation.”

“I’ve sensed his magic going outward every day,” Alwyn replied, his voice cold. “It is no meditation I’m aware of. Commander, I’m telling you, he’s reaching out to something, someone . How can we trust he isn’t some spy giving our location to the same orcs we just escaped?”

Panic rose in Korik’s chest, along with utter indignation—he’d gone so far out of his way to help these elves and still they distrusted him? But before he could protest, Varen scoffed, shaking his head.

“You forget yourself, High Sorcerer,” he said. “Healer Korik is only here because of a request from the prince himself. He has acted selflessly this entire time. He healed you of the poison afflicting you. He swore fealty to King Zorvut as all the orcs of Drol Kuggradh did, and I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that King Ruven himself was the one who gave the orc king his position. I trust him. That should be enough. If you don’t like it, you’re welcome to travel on your own.”

Korik’s eyes were uncomfortably wide as he stared at Varen in shock. Whatever he had expected the commander to say, this was far beyond it. Something in his chest stirred, his throat growing tight—had anyone ever so vehemently defended him before?

He’d almost forgotten that Alwyn was there until the elf sputtered something indignantly. His face had grown more and more red the longer Varen chastised him, but he had no response.

“Whatever he’s doing, it isn’t just meditation,” Alwyn finally snapped, shooting a glare over Varen’s shoulder at Korik. “I’m keeping an eye on you, orc .”

He spat the last word so forcefully that even Varen seemed taken aback, but the mage stormed off before either he or Korik could respond. When he’d kicked through the bramble back toward the camp, Varen finally turned to look back at Korik with a chagrined expression.

“Sorry about that,” he muttered, his expression darkening. “That was entirely inappropriate of him. When we get to Aefraya, I’m going to figure out who his direct report is and make sure they know how he’s treated the man who saved his ungrateful life.”

“What happened?” Korik asked, running a hand nervously up and down his arm—he realized his hands were shaking. “How did he find me?”

Varen grimaced again. “He came to me saying that he’d been noticing you leaving camp and then felt some sort of magic pass through afterward. I tried to dissuade him, but he was insistent he was going to go looking, so I figured it was better if I went with him. I’m sorry.”

So he didn’t know what Korik was really doing, at least. That was a small relief, though it made Korik wonder if secrecy was worth causing the mage to be so distrustful of him, having seen firsthand how dangerous he was.

“Thank you for... defending me,” Korik stammered. Varen only smirked.

“Well, the last thing I need is a sorcerer trying to kill you,” he said, and Korik couldn’t quite tell if his tone was joking or not. “But... You’ve done much to help us. He’s an idiot not to recognize that. Your business is your own, just as his business is his. No one’s asking him what he was doing out here that allowed him to get captured, after all.”

That was true. Curious as Korik was about what the mage had been up to, it didn’t seem like anyone had outright asked the elf, or planned to. It seemed obvious to him that Alwyn was more than just a mage and wouldn’t have given the truth even if asked directly; but he supposed it might not seem as evident to the others, who had not felt first-hand how finely honed and purely destructive his magic was.

He did not say this to Varen. Instead, he only nodded in agreement. After a beat, the elf sighed and folded his arms across his chest.

“Maybe hold off on scouting for now,” he said, now sounding guilty. “We’re close enough to Aefraya I think we’ll be alright, since you haven’t seen anything so far. I don’t want him trying to ambush you while you’re alone and vulnerable again. Best not to give him any reason to be suspicious for now, right?”

He considered this; it was true that they were nearly out of the more dangerous parts of their journey, and Korik had seen no sign of any other orcs so far. But they weren’t entirely out of danger yet; and if he wasn’t scouting, they would be more vulnerable to any third party that they might encounter between here and Aefraya.

Varen seemed to anticipate his concern, though, and added, “I’ll just have to make some time to scout and enlist some others to help me. I’ve been trying to avoid it, let everyone have the chance to decompress after... everything. But I don’t think we have much of a choice now.”

“Are you sure?” Korik asked, unsure of what else to say.

“I’m sure,” Varen said, smirking. “I’m flattered you’re worried about me, though.”

Korik’s face burned with heat. “That isn’t—I’m not—”

Varen laughed and turned away, waving a hand dismissively. “Right, right. Anyway, we’re about to start packing up camp, so come back and get some breakfast before we head out, alright?”

Korik watched him go for a moment, still stunned and rather baffled at the exchange. When he could no longer hear Varen’s footsteps crunching through the brush, he finally shook himself into action and made his way back to camp. He found Enriel waiting for him, standing by his bedroll and holding a bowl of porridge.

“Varen asked me to give this to you,” she said, offering him the bowl, which he took. “Is everything alright?”

Korik nodded absently. The entire exchange had been puzzling, but it seemed nothing would come of it now.

“Yes,” he replied, sitting down to eat. “Everything’s fine.”

With no need to scout, the next several days were somehow even more monotonous than the ones before. Korik ached all over from walking from sunrise to sunset, and they still had a week to go. The landscape had changed gradually around them, the weather growing more mild as the rocks and brush gave way to trees and grass—yet the change was so slow it provided little interest. The elves often chatted with each other or sometimes sang songs to pass the time; they were all elven folk songs that he was unfamiliar with, but they were pleasant to listen to and simple enough to pick up. But he hesitated to do more than hum along quietly; while his presence no longer seemed to frighten any of the elves, it was really only Enriel and Varen who spoke to him.

So he kept to himself, with only his own thoughts and the occasional conversation with Enriel as they walked. Varen would sometimes chat with him when they were camped for the night, or in the morning before they set out, but once they were on the road, they saw little of each other—Varen led the group, while Korik remained at the tail end.

He wasn’t sure when, exactly, they crossed what had once been the border; but he did notice, one late afternoon, a swell of chatter and activity moved through the line of elves ahead of him. He couldn’t hear what they were saying to each other, so he quickened his pace a little to get closer to the group. The next closest elves ignored him, so he passed them to catch up to Enriel, still riding on her horse.

“What’s going on?” he asked her quietly, when she caught sight of him.

She smiled. “We’re in Aefraya now. There’s an elven estate not far from here. Varen says we won’t make it before sunset, but if we can push for an hour or so past it, we should reach it. It’s a large orchard. The family is on pretty good terms with the elven militia, since it’s so close to the border—or, er, where the border used to be—so Varen says we’ll probably be able to rest there tonight instead of out in the open.”

Korik nodded, but what was clearly a comfort to the elves only made him more nervous. This elven estate was probably the closest of any in Aefraya to the orc wildlands; would they immediately be distrustful of him, or even refuse him shelter? Enriel seemed to detect his hesitance, and she added in a softer tone,

“Don’t worry, Korik. They’re nice people. They were one of the first big families to show public support for the unification.”

“I see,” he replied, still not entirely convinced; but her words helped a little. Between that and—hopefully—Varen vouching for him again, maybe things would be fine after all.

He slowed his pace and let the others pass him by again, taking up his usual place as the rear guard. Looking around, things seemed a bit more forested and... magical , somehow, which seemed silly. But elves were known for their innate magic, and it was said to suffuse their land in abundance, which Korik had never quite believed but was now less sure.

About an hour after the commotion had died down, Korik noticed Varen walking through the line of elves—toward him. He felt a lurch in his chest, seeing the commander searching for him. Perhaps he had come to warn Korik that he would not be welcome at this elven estate after all.

“There you are!” Varen called, gesturing him to draw closer. “Don’t fall behind, now. Listen, we’re in Aefraya proper, and I wanted to tell you that we’ll be pushing a bit past sunset to reach the Trisfiel estate to rest there.”

“Enriel told me,” he said.

“Good. I don’t expect they’ll refuse us any aid,” Varen continued. “With their location, the Trisfiel family has provided supplies and shelter to elven forces from time to time, and I’m sure they see a lot of trade caravans passing through now, too. Tomorrow, several of the group will split off to head their own way. Our group will be smaller and hopefully faster. I’m going to try to trade one of those orc horses for something more practical, hopefully a decent pack mule, but the other I’ll keep for you.”

Korik blinked dumbly. “For me?”

“For you,” Varen repeated, smirking. “I expect having a horse for the trip back will be necessary, don’t you? I can take any horse from Castle Aefraya’s stables, but King Zorvut only lived there a short time, so I doubt they’ve got much in the way of orc-sized horses available. Come take a look at both of them and pick out which you’d prefer.”

Varen started to turn to go, but Korik’s mind was swimming. He couldn’t stop himself from blurting out, “These elves—they won’t—that is, I won’t—I won’t be a problem to them?”

Varen paused, though he didn’t look surprised at the question. “I don’t expect it will be a problem. You may be the first orc to take shelter in their home or their barn, but you’ll be with us. With me . And as a commander, I do hold a bit of sway, believe it or not.”

In truth, Korik had little insight as to the chain of command within the elven army, so whether or not Varen’s position as a commander was particularly remarkable was entirely unknown to him.

“How much sway?” Korik asked, frowning, and Varen let out a bark of laugh.

“Gods,” he chuckled. “Enough, I can tell you that. I have a little piece of paper signed by Prince Taegan saying I’m away from my post with his permission, which probably has more sway than any title I could swing around. But it will be fine , healer. I’m more concerned that they won’t have room, but if some of us have to sleep in a barn… Well, it won’t be the first hayloft I’ve spent the night in. You won’t be alone, is what I’m saying.”

Korik nodded silently, only somewhat convinced.

“What did you call Alwyn? High Sorcerer? Does he have a higher rank than you?” he asked, and Varen snorted with laughter again.

“High Sorcerer, yes; but no, he does not outrank me. Technically, he’s not part of the militia, though there’s some overlap between combat sorcerers and—you know, this is entirely off topic. Will you please just come with me to look at these horses, and I can tell you more about the intricacies of elven military rank later tonight?”

They had been traveling together long enough now that Korik could tell that the exasperation in his voice was mostly fake, exaggerated to be humorous. He did not really think Varen was funny; but the elf had a grin playing at his lips that suggested he was quite amused at his own sense of humor, so Korik forced a small, amused smile in return.

“Yes,” he said, then gestured for Varen to continue. “Show me to these horses. I’m following you.”