Micky Carre
patreon
Dragon Riders of Etrea—Chapter 17
🕑 Added 2024-07-16 14:28:13 +0000 UTCThey set up camp for the night between the rocks—once they had dragged away the bodies, of course. After searching the orcs’ belongings, they released the horses into the wild. The orcs didn’t have much that was useful. Mostly just weapons, which they already had enough of.
Two twisted trees were within walking distance, so Henrik spent some time with his knife and wound up with a double armful of branches. A fire would be good tonight.
Tobias grumbled about the travel rations when Rasud pulled them out. He grabbed his bow and said he’d be back with real food.
Henrik and Rasud gathered up enough head-sized rocks to form into a small ring. Within that they arranged some of the branches, and Rasud used magic to light them.
“At least the boulders here will block the wind,” Rasud said, looking around him. “It gets a little chilly at night out here. Windy, too, since there are no trees to block it.”
“Cold air comes down from the mountain at night. At least, I think,” Henrik said. He sat with his back against one of the boulders, resting. Whenever he lost himself in his temper, it always left him incredibly tired for the rest of the day. That, along with being healed from several devastating wounds, and he was ready for sleep.
Tobias returned after two hours with a small antelope over his shoulder. He looked around the rocks for a moment and found one around waist-high, then set the carcass on it and began gutting it.
“At least we’ll have some fresh food,” Henrik said. “Thank you, Tobias.”
“Sure, sure,” he said, methodically carving the animal.
The soldier had been uncomfortable around Henrik since the battle, for which he didn’t blame him. Henrik’s temper was something he struggled to keep under control. He didn’t even fully understand it himself.
“Almost ready,” Tobias said as he walked to where his saddlebags lay on the ground. He grabbed his water skin and used it to wash his hands off, then pulled out a bundle of thin steel bars. He brought them back to the fire and began assembling them.
The steel rods clicked together, forming a simple spit that just fit over their fire. Tobias went back to the antelope carcass and carved off both haunches, then skewered them.
“Any chance for some ribs?” Henrik asked.
Tobias shivered. “I don’t think I ever want to see ribs again after that blow you took earlier.” But he hacked and pulled at the ribs, separating them from the backbone, and added them to their dinner.
After that, Tobias washed his hands again and sat down across from Rasud and Henrik. He focused on their food, turning it every so often.
“So, are we going to talk about what happened?” Tobias asked after a few minutes? “I’ve seen a lot of things in my time, but I’ve never seen a man take a hit like that and keep moving. You should be dead, Henrik. You should have drowned in your own blood after that orc hacked into your side like he was trying to chop down a tree.”
Henrik looked down at himself. He still wore the same clothes, and his entire left side was caked with dried blood. “Suppose I should change,” he muttered. “Don’t worry, Tobias, I’ll explain. At least, as best I can.” He pushed himself to his feet and stretched to each side, wincing at a slight tenderness that still remained. He pulled his shirt off over his head as he walked over to his saddle.
“By the gods…” Tobias said when Henrik turned.
“Yes, my friend has lived a most interesting life,” Rasud said, looking over at Henrik. “Remember, he was sold to slavers as a child.”
Henrik looked at the ruined mess of a shirt in his hands. It was useless for anything except rags, and barely that. He used it to wipe away dried blood from his body, then cast it to the ground. After fetching a clean shirt from his saddlebags, he pulled it on over his head and went back to the fire.
“You remember when I told you I tried to escape from the slavers as often as possible?” he asked. Tobias nodded. “Well, they tied me to a pole and whipped me every time. Tied is the wrong word. I was young, small. They tied my wrists and hung the rope over a hook. At my age, that left me hanging a foot off the ground, unable to do anything except suffer.”
“How many times did they whip you?” Tobias asked, looking horrified.
“I lost count,” Henrik said. “It was worse every time, although at a certain point they finally realized that if they whipped me too severely, I couldn’t work for a week, so they lost money. I finally stopped when they told me if I tried to run away again, they’d cut my balls off.”
Tobias winced. “Where are these slavers now? They should be gathered up and hanged. I can pass word to Duke Ardun when we return.”
Henrik smirked. “Look at nearly every factory in the city. Hell, half of the dockworkers are barely more than children. A lot of large-scale farms outside of the city use slaves. That’s where I was. North, I think.”
“But you finally escaped,” Tobias said.
Henrik nodded. “I waited three months and just watched. I learned what times they watched us, when they locked the doors, when they allowed people to piss. I studied everything and tucked it away in here,” he said, tapping the side of his head. “One moonless night, I told one of the guards I had to piss. He let me visit the outhouse, and I finally made my way out of there. The only thing I knew was which way to run.”
“Towards Selfoss?”
“Yeah. I ran all night and half of the next day. When I got to the city, I asked around for an orphanage. Several people tried to kidnap me—who knows, perverts, probably—but I got away every time. I finally found an orphanage, and they agreed to take me in.”
“And there he met his best friend and faithful companion!” Rasud said. “And we’ve been causing trouble ever since.”
“Speaking of trouble,” Tobias said as he turned the spit. “Care to tell me about that temper of yours?”
Henrik frowned. He didn’t really like talking about it, but Tobias had fought by his side. He deserved to know.
“It’s not a natural thing,” Henrik said. “That’s the only way I can think of explaining it. Sure, I get angry sometimes. We all do. I’m able to control myself. But if someone manages to push me over the edge, or if someone hurts me, I lose control.”
“Like poor Bennett back at the inn?” Rasud said. Tobias looked a question at him and he continued. “A rather large man, Bennett. He arm wrestled Henrik, and thought he could win by kicking him beneath the table.”
“What happened?” Tobias asked.
“He broke Bennett’s hand,” Rasud replied. “The table as well, although not too badly.”
Tobias just stared at Henrik as if seeing him for the first time.
“He kicked me,” Henrik said. “That fat bastard kept kicking me, and each time I got angrier. I didn’t fully lose it though. He just caught the edge of my temper.”
“I was afraid you were going to strangle him,” Rasud said quietly.
“I probably would have, had you not said something to me,” Henrik replied. He continued explaining his condition to Tobias. “It usually only happens if I’m fighting and someone harms me. I become someone else, not me. Not Henrik. I can’t always control myself when my temper takes over. Pain doesn’t slow me; it gives me strength. The only thing I care about is killing, especially those that managed to strike me, and I won’t stop until everyone is dead.”
“I’ve seen him take four men at once before,” Rasud said, staring into the flames. “Henrik took a sword straight through the belly. He impaled himself further on it so he could get closer to the man, then broke his neck.”
“Are you….” Tobias cleared his throat. “Forgive me, Henrik. Is this something of the gods? Or the demons?”
“I don’t know,” Henrik replied. “It started around the time I became a man. I had just left the orphanage and some scoundrel in an alley tried to rob me.”
Rasud looked away. “I remember that day.”
“Back then, I wasn’t the fighter I am today, but I was tall and I was strong,” Henrik said. “Honestly, that man was stupid for attacking me. He was probably desperate.”
“What did you do?” Tobias asked.
“He had a knife and threatened to kill me and Rasud if we didn’t hand over our coin purses. We refused. He cut Rasud’s face, then held the knife to my throat, hard enough that the point dug in and drew blood. A lot of blood. That was the first time it happened. Something took over me. Fear left, pain left.”
Tobias nodded and motioned for him to continue when Henrik paused.
“As I said, I wasn’t the fighter back then,” Henrik said. “He cut me several times, but I managed to get the knife from him. I broke his arm and rammed the dagger through his eye, into his head.”
“I was half-afraid he was going to kill me too, after that,” Rasud said. “It was like someone else looking through Henrik’s eyes at me. I managed to get him to relax, and he was fine a minute later.”
“Rasud is the only one that’s ever been able to get me to calm down,” Henrik said. “Probably because we grew up together, and he’s my closest friend. The only man in this world I trust with my life. If it weren’t for him…well, a lot of people would have died.”
“There was a certain look in your eyes when you turned our way after killing that last orc,” Tobias said.
“I didn’t recognize you. As I said, it’s like someone else has control of me. Like I’m a different person.”
Tobias was quiet for a time after that. “Well,” he finally said. “I’m just glad you’re on our side.”
Henrik chuckled. “So, what do you think of your first time fighting an orc?”
Tobias just shook his head. “I’ve been in my share of fights, but never against someone that fast and that strong. By the gods, I didn’t think that was possible. I had a shield and a helmet, and he wore what could barely be considered armor. Still, had you not intervened, I don’t know if I would have made it.”
“There’s no shame in that,” Henrik said. “Very few men can stand against an orc and live to see the next day.”
“And you killed three in a matter of seconds,” Tobias said. He used a folded piece of cloth to pull the skewer from its small rack and poked at the meat with his dagger. “At least we’ll have a hot dinner tonight.”
“I don’t suppose you skewered a potato on there, did you?” Rasud asked.
