Ooooo, Said the Deer
It was a dreamless sleep, where sheer exhaustion overruled the tumult of Cadderly's emotions. That deep slumber made it all the more shocking to the young scholar when Danica's cry shattered his serenity.
Cadderly jerked to a sitting position and made out a hulking form bending over Danica. He knew at once that it was Tiennek who'd come calling; he prayed that the barbarian hadn't been in the tent very long.
Cadderly started toward his love, but found his wrists roughly grabbed and jerked painfully high behind him.
"If she fights, break the priest's arms," Tiennek said, and Danica, with one look Cadderly's way, stopped her struggling. Tiennek heaved the young woman over his shoulder and started out, flanked by two orogs. The third beast, giving one final, painful tug on Cadderly's arms, soon moved to follow. Cadderly stubbornly stood up behind the orog, but the beast spun about and smacked him to the floor.
The world became a blur of pain and unresolvable confusion. Cadderly noticed Elbereth, still seated at the back of the tent, struggling fiercely but futilely. The elf's wrists were bound so tightly about his knees that he could not even begin to stand.
Growling, on the very edge of control, Cadderly started up, but the orog kicked him in the ribs and sent him crashing down again. He looked all about, to his feathered ring, to a cask on the side of the room, to Elbereth, but had no recourse. Danica was gone and in peril, and Cadderly had no way to fight back.
"No!" he snarled, drawing another kick from the orog. "No! No!" Like a man gone mad, Cadderly repeated the word, ignoring the outraged orog's kicks.
"No! No! No!" But for all Cadderly's stubbornness and anger, his words rang hollow, a puny retaliation.
Danica did not struggle atop Tiennek's huge shoulder. She would bide her time, she decided, wait for an opportunity when she would have the bronze-skinned man alone. Or at least she hoped that she would have Tiennek alone. Tiennek's obvious intentions revolted her, but the thought that orogs would be present was too much for her to bear.
Tiennek's tent was the third and largest in the encampment, centered at the back side of the camp and doubling as a warehouse for the enemy troupe. The blond-haired barbarian, to Danica's profound relief, told his flanking orogs to remain on guard outside, then pushed his way past stacked barrels and boxes to a pile of blankets and furs in the center of the room.
An oil lamp burned low in one corner; the smell of meat was strong in the air.
Tiennek lowered Danica to her feet, more gently than the young woman expected. He stared into her almond eyes and stroked her strawberry blond hair.
Play along, Danica told herself, against every instinct in her body. "Untie me," she whispered to her huge captor. "It will be better for the both of us."
Tiennek's huge hand slid over Danica's smooth cheek, barely touching her and sending shivers through her in spite of her revulsion.
"Untie me," she whispered again.
Tiennek laughed at her. His gentle touch became an iron grasp on her face, nearly snapping her jaw apart. Danica jerked back from him, got free for an instant, but was then pulled back, this time with the barbarian tugging at a clump of her thick hair.
"You think me a foo - " He stopped abruptly as Danica's knee slammed into his groin she had to hop off the ground to even reach her target.
Tiennek grimaced for just a moment, then flung Danica backward. She managed to keep her balance, and snapped a kick into the man's rock-hard belly as he stalked her.
Tiennek, his face locked in a murderous stare, didn't seemed to notice the kick, but Danica could tell from his slight limp that her first attack had done some damage.
This time Danica went for his knee, but she had to stop in midkick and dodge instead as Tiennek launched a heavy punch for her face. She was able to duck aside, awkwardly, but the agile barbarian's second hand came in more quickly, clipping her on the cheek.
The tent spun about, and Danica was down to her knees. Tiennek had her and could do as he pleased with her, she knew; there was nothing she could do against such a mighty warrior with her hands bound behind her back. Danica tugged at her cords, ignoring the burn of rough rope on her wrists, and savagely fought to free herself.
Many moments passed. Danica could feel warm blood on her hands. Why hadn't Tiennek continued his assault?
Danica dared to look over her shoulder, to see the giant limping away. That initial knee strike she had launched against him had apparently changed his lewd intentions, for the time being, at least.
The barbarian called a huge orog into the tent and gave it orders to watch Danica, but not to touch her unless she tried to escape. If she did, Tiennek explained, looking pointedly at Danica as he spoke, the orog could do whatever it wanted with the prisoner.
Tiennek eyed Danica slyly. "Give me your weapons," he commanded the orog. The creature balked and put a hand defensively over its sword.
"Give them!" Tiennek growled. "That one will take them from you and kill you with them, do not doubt." The orog continued to snarl, but it handed over the sword and the long dagger from its boot.
Then the bronze-skinned man was gone, and the orog cautiously stalked over to stand beside Danica, its breathing coming in short, hopeful gasps. "Make a break, pretty one," it whispered under its stinking breath, thinking that this duty might turn out be a bit of fun.
"Could you help me to my feet?" Danica asked innocently after some time. She suspected that Tiennek would return before dawn, before Dorigen realized what had happened, and knew that sunrise was not too far away.
The orog reached down and grabbed her by the hair, pulling her roughly to a standing position. "Ye likes that better?" it growled, again putting its stinking breath in Danica's face.
Danica nodded and told herself that she must act now, or never. She hoped she had loosened her bindings enough, prayed that she had, for the consequences of failure were too wretched for her to even imagine.
The young woman called upon all her discipline in that critical moment, mustering her courage. She dropped toward the floor, feigned that she was falling. The orog instinctively started down to catch her, but Danica's legs coiled under her and she sprang past the surprised beast. She bent her knees up to her chest and whipped her bound hands down under her feet. Even as she descended, she launched her first attack, snapping one leg out straight to drive her foot under the orog's chin.
The creature gasped and fell back. Danica was standing again, still bound, but with her hands now in front of her. The orog, stunned but barely hurt, whooped and charged back in. Danica slowed it considerably with a straight kick to the chest and another to the knee. She clenched her hands together and smacked the monster across the face, once and then again. Growling with every movement, her motions became a blur, kicking, kneeing, punching, and the orog could only hold its arms across its face and try to cover up.
The vicious attack abruptly ceased and the orog moved, just as Danica had expected, to the offensive. The creature lunged awkwardly for her, but caught only air as Danica took a quick step back. Before the overbalanced monster could recover, Danica attacked. She dove right over the orog's shoulder, turning a somersault as she went and hooking her bindings around the monster's thick neck.
The orog bent backward under the brutal pull; a man's neck would have snapped under the great strain. Danica realized quickly that she could not hope to hold on long enough to choke such a thick-skinned and thick-muscled monster. Already the orog had begun to recover and had grabbed at Danica's wrists, tugging and loosening the choking cords from about its neck.
Danica saw her chance was slipping away. She scanned the orog, but found no visible weapons. She scanned the room, but nothing presented itself as a club or knife. A desperate plan came to her. She reversed her grip suddenly, going along with the orog's pull and turning about to face the creature as it tugged. Predictably, the orog swung about.
Danica caught its lumbering swing and yanked it along, then dropped and twisted, flipping the orog over her. Danica dove with it, guiding its descent, plopping it head down in an open water barrel. The monster disappeared up to its waist and Danica jumped atop it, threw one leg between its flailing legs and hung on for all her life.
The creature was much stronger than she, but Danica called upon powers that the orog couldn't begin to understand. She locked her legs inside the rim of the barrel and clamped her hands vicelike on its rim for further support. The orog's hands came up over the lip and it pulled mightily, but Danica held her position, using her stiffened legs as a wedge to prevent her from being dislodged.
The monster's thrashing battered her and bruised her, but she reminded herself that it would not last for long.
Still, it seemed like hours to the weary, beaten woman as the orog fought wildly, trying to get its head up above the water. A knee bloodied her nose, a foot scraped across the side of her head so wickedly that Danica had to wonder if her ear had been torn off.
Then it stopped, suddenly. Almost surprised, Danica held her seat for many seconds longer, just to make sure. She realized that Tiennek might soon return, and she crawled off the barrel. Soaking wet, tears in her eyes, and blood running freely from her nose, she discerned which side of the tent would provide the best exit and rushed over, biting at her bindings as she went.
The orc rubbed its bleary eyes and looked to the east, hoping the dawn would come quickly and end its tedious watch. South of the monster, in its watch direction, was a field of tall grass, sparsely dotted by occasional trees.
The dawn's light was not nearly in full, and the orc heard a distant rustle before it noticed the antlers moving steadily through the grass. At first, the creature lifted its spear, thinking a fine venison dinner had walked right up. Then the orc blinked and rubbed its eyes again, wondering how any deer with such a large rack could be small enough to be concealed by grass no more than three feet high.
The antlers came gliding on, still a fair distance away. They neared the trunk of a twisted apple tree, then the orc blinked again as the antlers passed by the barrier, one on either side.
"Molargro," the orc called to its orog watch chief. The large and ugly orog, wanning its gnarly toes by the camp-fire, cast the sentry an indifferent look, then turned away.
"Molargro!" the orc called again, more insistently. The orog reluctantly rose and came over, not even bothering to put on its worn and tattered boots.
"Deer," the orc explained when the orog arrived, pointing to the approaching antlers, now not so distant.
"Deer?" Molargro questioned, scratching its huge head. "Bah, ye're a stupid one," the orog said a moment later. "What kinda deer says 'ooooo'?"
Both the orog and the orc crinkled their faces in confusion. They glanced back toward the approaching antlers and asked in unison, "Ooooo?"
They got their answer a split second later, at the end of Ivan's great axe and Pikel's tree-trunk club.
Crawling along the brush on the camp's perimeter, Danica had nearly reached the prisoners' tent when the cries of alarm rang out. At first she assumed that Tiennek had found the dead orog, but then she heard, "Oo oi!" above the commotion, followed by a heavy thud and the grunt of a wounded ogre.
"How?" Danica wondered, but, having no time to figure things out at that moment, she stood and ran the rest of the way, carefully slipping in under the loosely tied skins of the tent sides. She stopped halfway in and scrambled to the side, behind some piled crates, as Tiennek and an orc rushed in through the tent flap.
"Take the human to Dorigen!" the barbarian commanded, indicating Cadderly. Tiennek drew Elbereth's finely crafted sword from his belt and grinned evilly. "I will deal with the elf."
Danica's first reaction, as Cadderly was whisked away, was to slip back out, encircle the tent, and go to his aid. She had to resist those urges, though, for Tiennek's intentions concerning Elbereth were painfully obvious. The barbarian took a long stride toward the elf, but then, in the blink of an eye, Danica was between them.
"Flee!" she heard Elbereth say at her back. "I accept my doom. Do not die for me."
Tiennek's shock disappeared in the second it took him to conjure his mocking smile. "The orog is dead?" he asked, showing little concern. He nodded his handsome head as though he was not the least bit surprised.
Danica's visage did not soften, nor did she move from her defensive crouch. Tiennek brought the sword her way.
"A great loss, I fear," he said slyly. "My dear lady, I could have shown you pleasures you cannot imagine."
"I am not your lady!" Danica growled, and she kicked him in the chest, driving him back a step.
"A great loss," the barbarian said again, a bit breathless but otherwise appearing unshaken. He pulled a small net from his belt, holding it wrapped about his free hand.
Danica circled cautiously, understanding the potentially disastrous consequences of getting a kicking leg entangled in that net. She looked for openings, weaknesses, but saw none. The giant barbarian held the elf's slender sword as though it had been designed for him; his balance remained perfect as he executed the circles to keep in step with the young woman.
Danica rushed forward and started to kick, then dropped to the floor suddenly and swept both legs across Tiennek's ankles. The barbarian got one foot clear of the move, but did stumble as Danica's flying feet clipped his other foot. He caught his balance quickly and leaned back in, meaning to hack at the prone woman while waving the net to keep her kicks away.
Danica was not so foolish as to continue her offensive move, though. She was back up and balanced before Tiennek took his first chop.
"I am the stronger," the barbarian teased. "Better armed and equally skilled. You cannot hope to survive."
Danica had trouble convincing herself that the big man was not speaking the truth. She had hit him with several solid shots, but he had barely flinched. She saw his obvious comfort in handling a sword and had already felt his iron grip.
He came straight at her then, in a vicious flurry, thrusting and chopping, weaving the net deftly around his flying blade.
Danica dodged and dove, deflected one thrust aside, though she gashed her arm in the process, and finally wound up in full retreat.
"Flee!" Elbereth cried, struggling futilely with his tight bonds. He rolled and kicked, pulled his arms until they bled, but the stubborn ropes would not relax their painful grip.
Danica was glad that Tiennek continued his pursuit of her. The barbarian could have turned about and easily finished Elbereth before she ever got close enough to interfere.
"He will die after I have defeated you," Tiennek explained, as if he had read her thoughts. "After he has watched. After I have taken you!" Elbereth's groan brought another smile to the cruel barbarian's lips.
Tiennek charged again, but Danica was not caught off her guard. She lifted a foot, as if to kick straight out at her attacker, but kicked to the side instead, snapping the large tent's center support. The roof drooped in around them, defeating Tiennek's attack.
The barbarian thrashed about to get the drooping skins high enough in case Danica charged him, but the young woman was not to be seen.
"A worthy chase!" Tiennek howled, refusing to be intimidated. "And a prize worth catching." He stalked off, pushing the skin roof from his path.
Danica easily could have slipped away and out of the collapsed tent, but that would have left Elbereth helpless. The barbarian, fearless and thinking this fight no contest, was making no secret of his whereabouts. And Danica, desperate for something to equalize this lopsided contest, determined to use that against him.
"Ye got that one!" Ivan bellowed, pointing to a fleeing orc.
Pikel stepped out from behind a tree, right in the orc's path. Holding his club in both hands by its slender, tapered end, the dwarf leaned into a swing that blasted right through the miserable creature's blocking arm and hit its head with enough force to snap its scrawny neck.
"Oo oi!" the happy dwarf squealed to his brother.
"Behind ye," Ivan replied, and Pikel spun about, this time crunching an orc's head between his flying club and the tree. The orc's skull cracked apart with a sickening sound.
Bellowing advice to his brother did nothing to hinder Ivan's own ferocious attacks. He stood atop the felled ogre's back, chopping at the orogs and orcs encircling him. The ogre wasn't quite dead yet, and every time it groaned or stirred a bit, Ivan made a point of stomping hard on the back of the monster's fat head.
Sheer viciousness replaced finesse as the dwarf held several monsters at bay with deadly chops of his mighty axe. One orc managed to get upon the ogre behind Ivan, clubbing the dwarf solidly on the back of his head.
Ivan laughed at it, then sent it flying away with a cut that drove one side of his double-bladed axe halfway through the creature's rib cage.
Tiennek stopped his thrashing and shouting and stalked about slowly, easing the fallen roof out of his way. "I am not a weakling fighter of civilized lands," he said calmly. "I am Kura-winther!"
He sensed a bit of movement, a shift in the fallen tent roof, off to the side, and he took one small step that way. He raised one hand up high so that the roof would not sag, and bent as low as he could.
He saw Danica's legs, under the low skins a few feet away. The game was over, Tiennek decided, knowing that he was needed in the battle outside.
"I know your tricks!" he cried, and he heaved at the roof and charged Danica's way, sword leading. Tiennek grinned with the knowledge that his long reach would give the woman no opportunity to parry or counter.
What confident Tiennek didn't know was that Danica had grabbed the broken bottom half of the center pole, a crude spear that was longer than his sword.
Tiennek's eyes widened in disbelief as he impaled himself on Danica's set weapon.
"Some of my tricks, perhaps," the woman said icily, showing no remorse for the man's demise. She drove the pole deeper and twisted it about.
Elbereth's sword fell from Tiennek's outstretched arm; the net in his other hand hung loosely. He dropped to his knees, and Danica released her grip.
The spear propped Tiennek up, supported him in that kneeling position, and the tent roof descended over him, a fitting death shroud.
Danica didn't hesitate. Poor Elbereth, sitting blindly in the back of the collapsed tent, would simply have to wait. The young woman got her bearings and crawled and scrambled her way into the open air.
The dawn's light was full now, early morning. Orogs and orcs were scattering and howling in chaos, with the exception of one group putting up a fair fight against the Bouldershoulder brothers, now standing back-to-back atop the felled ogre. Cadderly was off to the other side, still being pulled along by the orc.
Danica ran after her love, then skidded to a stop as the wizard appeared suddenly beside the tent Tiennek had used. Dorigen made several gestures, held something Danica could not discern in one outstretched hand, and uttered a triggering incantation.
Danica's instincts sent her diving between two trees just as the wizard's lightning bolt went off. The blast split one of the small trees and rebounded into the other, scorching it just above the sprawled woman's head. Danica was up and running in an instant, but soon, too, came Dorigen's second spell.
Sticky filaments filled the air, descending all around Danica and catching hold of the trees, the shrubs, anything at all, to form a thick web. Danica scrambled every which way, used her speed and agility to stay one step ahead of the forming trap.
Then she was clear of the tangle, though a bit to the side of her original course, and Dorigen was not so far away. She heard a flap of wings, but saw nothing. Suddenly, Druzil became visible right in her path, and the imp's barbed tail shot at her shoulder.
The wound was minor, just a scratch, but the sudden tingling numbness and the burn in Danica's arm told her that the imp had indeed poisoned her. She slumped back against a tree, Druzil hovering in front of her, smiling evilly and wagging his tail as though he meant to lash at her again.
Cadderly's thrill at seeing Ivan and Pikel unexpectedly rushing to his aid was tempered by the fact that the dwarves were fully engaged and would not have the opportunity to prevent the orc from getting him to Dorigen. The creature's grip on Cadderly's arm was unrelenting, though the monster was looking more at its comrades' fight than to its prisoner.
"No one but me," Cadderly muttered under his breath. He saw an opportunity to pull away as the orc released its grasp for just an instant.
But it passed without Cadderly mustering the courage to make the attempt. He heard a blast to the side and saw Dorigen loosing some thunderous wizardry, though at what target he could not discern.
Another chance presented itself when they neared the fire, and this time, Cadderly was up to the test. He stumbled and dropped at the orc's feet, groaning and feigning injury. When the startled creature reached for him, he swung his legs inside the creature's, hooked the orc behind the knees, and heaved with all his strength. The startled orc tumbled headlong past him. Not a pretty maneuver, perhaps, but effective and even more so since the camp-fire burned low just a few feet away. Sparks flew all about when the orc hit the embers. It came up shrieking and screaming and smacking at the sparks that had caught hold on its clothing.
Cadderly struggled to his feet and dove against the creature's back, knocking it into the fire once again. This time the orc came up on the other side, running away and paying no more heed to the young scholar.
"Well done, lad!" Cadderly heard Ivan cry, and he turned about just in time to see the dwarf cleave an orog nearly in half with a mighty overhead chop. Cadderly was feeling good about his trickery, but for all he had accomplished, he still found himself in the middle of a battlefield unarmed indeed, with his wrists bound behind his back! He scooted off to the quietest side and fell for cover behind a water trough.
Danica turned her thoughts inward, personified the poison as a tiny, devilish thing biting her shoulder. Her muscles became her tools, flexing and tightening, turning about to drive the insinuating intruder back toward the wound.
The poison devil was a stubborn one, gnawing and burning, but Danica, too, possessed determination far beyond that of an ordinary human. Her muscles worked intricately, shifting the poison to one side, then back an inch. She pictured the open wound as a doorway and, working relentlessly, finally drove the fiend through.
Waves of dizziness rolled over her when she opened her eyes. She saw Druzil again, still wagging his deadly tail, but wearing an expression that was considerably less cocksure. Danica followed the imp's surprised gaze to her own shoulder, to the black liquid that had poured from her wound to roll down her arm.
Druzil's tail whipped back and then shot forward, but Danica's attack, a straight-ahead punch, came quicker, sending the hovering imp spinning head over heels.
Danica moved to give chase, but had to brace herself against a tree for a moment to stop from falling over. She saw the wizard scoop up the stunned imp and begin casting yet another spell, this time holding her closed fist out toward the monk, an onyx ring clearly visible.
Danica forced herself forward, ignored the dizziness, and focused on reaching Dorigen.
Dorigen abruptly changed her plans and uttered a few quick incantations instead. A shimmering blue light appeared in front of the wizard, and she and Druzil stepped through and were gone.
The six remaining orogs had no desire to continue their combat with the brutal dwarves. They took flight together, Ivan and Pikel right on their heels. The monsters took to the trees as soon as they crossed the clearing, figuring that the armored dwarves would have a harder time climbing.
Ivan and Pikel stopped at the trunk. Pikel hopped about, trying to reach a branch to pull himself up. Ivan had another course in mind. He dropped the head of his great axe between his feet, spit in both hands, then took up the weapon and stalked in for the trunk.
"Uh-uh," Pikel, the would-be druid, growled, wagging his head and throwing his short arms wide about the precious trunk.
"What? Have ye gone bats?" Ivan cried. "There's damned big orcs up there, me brother. Damned big!"
"Uh-uh." There was no compromise in Pikel's tone.
The discussion was resolved a second later, when Cadderly spotted a shimmering field of blue in the distance and saw Dorigen step out and begin casting a spell toward the camp.
"Ware the wizard!" the young scholar cried. Pikel just managed to reply, "Eh?" before the spell went off, engulfing the tree, and the dwarves, in a ball of flame.
Cadderly leaped up from the trough and rushed over.
Pikel emerged from the carnage first, his clothes and face blackened with soot and his beard singed and sticking wildly every which way. Ivan came behind, in a state of similar dishevelment. Worse off were the orogs, toasted in the branches of the leafless, charred tree.
"Boom!" the druid-minded dwarf said. Ivan toppled facedown in the dirt.
Cadderly started for him, but Pikel stopped the young scholar with an outstretched hand, pointing back toward the large tent at the rear of the compound, and to Danica, stumbling out of the brush.
Cadderly ran to her side while Pikel saw to his brother.
Danica's face seemed too pale, too delicate, and Cadderly nearly screamed in rage. Danica assured him that she was all right or that she would be but then she collapsed against him and seemed on the verge of losing consciousness.
Riddled with guilt, the young scholar wondered how in the Nine Hells he had gotten her into this awful setting, into the middle of a war.