T Lain - The Bloody Eye

Wanting to speak with her even though he owed her nothing, he said, “Need gem. Gem more than One-Eye knows. You use. Hassq saw. Hassq take you to One-Eye.”

Though the druid spoke Common in Orcish monosyllables, it unsettled Yddith to hear him speak without the exaggerated accent so typical of the orcs. She believed that “One-Eye” must be the name the orcs gave to the evil priest being hunted by Jozan and Alhandra. Her eyes widened with renewed horror as she considered Hassq’s intent to take her to that very priest. She couldn’t help but wonder what would happen to her. Would this Calmet remove her other eye, too?

“You use gem for one eye,” the druid continued. “You show use for gem. One eye not bad to orcs, not bad for Hassq.”

Yddith subconsciously glanced at the leather pouch where Hassq had hidden the necklace, and she winced in realization that her own empty eye socket was bare, a horror for all to see. The false, emerald eye had been a comfort to her, a gift from Krusk that made her feel unique instead of deformed. Without it she felt like the monstrosity she was.

“All right,” she responded to the druid, even though her tone expressed more than a hint of petulance, “since you’ve already stripped it off of me, I want to know. Why is this necklace so important?”

“Bring dead,” answered the druid. “Need gem bring dead. Does more.”

“I don’t understand,” she argued, her curiosity gradually conquering her fear and revulsion. “How did you know that I could use the gem’s magic?”

She needed to know. Up until then, she hadn’t been willing to admit even to herself that the stone was augmenting her inner power but she realized that she was casting spells she’d never experimented with, spells she had only seen the traveling sorceress perform once, or never at all. Either something inside her or something within the gem’s magic was teaching her how to cast magical spells.

“Green glow in flash,” grunted the orc, “mean Gruumsh in gem.”

Gruumsh was in the emerald? her psyche fairly shouted with horror. “If Gruumsh is in the emerald,” she asked, “then Gruumsh fought his own devotees?”

“Gruumsh strong,” muttered the druid. “Gruumsh like strong. You strong. You use gem. Show One-Eye.”

Yddith relaxed. She understood why she had been kidnapped instead of killed. Indeed, realizing it was in the druid’s interest to keep her alive, she felt considerably more relaxed. Comforted by this realization, it wasn’t long before she slept.

The night was short for the others. They rested briefly, but kept moving even in the hours of darkness so they could rescue Yddith before Hassq killed her. Of course, none of them could understand why Hassq hadn’t killed her outright to steal the necklace. It would have been easy to snatch the gem, place it around his own neck, transform into an eagle, and fly off to Calmet in a fraction of the time that the druid’s hike up the mountain was taking. Jozan believed that Yddith was chosen by Pelor to provide some kind of key to victory over Calmet, but Alhandra considered it unseemly to expect help from the gods when the gods had empowered you to do it yourself. She made it very clear that she didn’t think Yddith was any kind of key. She planned to rescue the barmaid because no woman should be carried into slavery and humiliation, not because Yddith was a key.

Krusk ventured no opinions. He kept his eyes on the prisoner and maintained position a pace behind their frightened orc guide. So far, the prisoner had proven to be an asset, but that didn’t mean the barbarian trusted him. The prisoner stopped and Krusk immediately reached for his axe. Before he could draw it, the orc turned and motioned to Krusk.

“Here close,” whispered the orc in his gruff dialect. “Give rope.”

Krusk offered his rope reluctantly, remembering that Yddith had been the last to touch it before he coiled it in his bag and headed off to rescue her. After a pause, Krusk acceded to the orc’s request and carefully scrutinized every motion that the prisoner made with the rope.

The orc shook out the rope in his hands and formed a noose with it. Looking to Krusk for reassurance, he carefully stepped into the underbrush and crouched. Krusk kept a keen eye on him, but the prisoner’s posture didn’t indicate any intent to escape. The prisoner surveyed the ground intently. After a while, the barbarian saw the orc pull back on the rope and hold up a squirming rodent. The noose was tight enough that the giant rat couldn’t squeal. The orc proudly returned to the rest of the group.

Krusk wasn’t at all sure what the prisoner was doing, so he signaled for the others to remain and followed the orc quietly and carefully along a lightly used game trail in the underbrush. The prisoner stopped, played out the slack on the rope, and threw the rat underhand to a spot slightly ahead on the path.

The barbarian could see that the rat was struggling to free itself, wriggling pathetically in the last throes of asphyxiation when it hit the ground. If it had looked like the unfortunate rodent was in trouble before, it was in double jeopardy when it touched down. A snare collapsed on the struggling vermin and snatched it up so that it hung from a spry tree limb. Krusk understood as he walked up beside the smiling orc and used his greataxe to slice the animal free. The orc hadn’t been certain where the trigger of the trap was; the struggling rat was meant to set off the trap, even if the orc’s aim missed the exact trip point. If the orc had picked up a rock or limb big enough to trigger the trap, Krusk would have assumed it was meant for a weapon.

He begrudgingly acknowledged the orc’s wisdom, but when the prisoner whispered, “Good trap. Clear now,” Krusk shoved him back down the trail.

It was still a murdering orc, he reminded himself.

The prisoner and the half-breed returned to the others and attempted to develop a plan. Krusk thought they could sneak up on the camp and have Jozan invoke an area of silence around the druid. Under that plan, Hassq wouldn’t be able to cast any spells that required power words or invocations, and Krusk felt certain he could put an arrow through any of the guards who might threaten Yddith once the orcs became aware of their attackers. While Jozan silenced the druid and Krusk provided cover, Alhandra would enter the camp and cut Yddith free. Once Yddith was clear, they would turn their attention to the druid himself.

The most surprising part of their deliberation was discovering that their prisoner also wanted a chance to strike at Hassq. Whether Qorrg, for so he introduced himself, had a long-term grudge against the druid, or merely wanted revenge for being placed in a situation where he became a prisoner of war was uncertain. All Krusk could be sure of was that the orc’s eye lit up with undisguised pleasure whenever they spoke of killing Hassq.

Certainly, the plan was simple. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean the enemy would cooperate. Indeed, the plan didn’t survive coming into proximity with the enemy. Qorrg was extremely capable of moving silently through the underbrush, and the barbarian was even better. Alhandra was slow, but competent. The problem was Jozan, who had never been called upon to be truly stealthy before. Krusk winced as Jozan clumsily stepped on every brittle branch and root. It was clear to the barbarian that they would never get near Hassq’s camp without the druid being forewarned.

When Krusk asked for alternate suggestions, Alhandra proposed a ruse. She anticipated having the orc tie Krusk’s rope loosely around Jozan’s hands. Then, pretending that the cleric was his prisoner, Qorrg would march Jozan straight up to the druid. Krusk and Alhandra would hide in the trees and be ready to attack when the moment was ripe or if anything went wrong. Krusk looked at Qorrg with plain mistrust, but he assured the orc that an arrow would be aimed at his back through the entire masquerade. If anything did go wrong, Qorrg would be the first to die.