“What’s an orc?” Anders asked.
“You’ve never heard of an orc?” Max asked surprised.
“Why, are they well-known?” he asked.
“You could say that,” Max said.
“Orcs are a cruel species, the spawn of pure evil,” Britt began. “Most are as large as Red, some growing to twice his size. Orcs grow at a very rapid rate. Their children are often indistinguishable from adults by the time they are three years old.
Every orc I’ve ever seen or heard talk of is boorish and it’s impossible to differentiate the males from the females with an untrained eye.
Their dark gray splotchy skin gives them camouflage among rocky and tree-covered areas; however, most orc tribes tend to gather in wide-open areas, like the plains. In the vast expanse of these areas, they can gather in large numbers and see potential enemies coming from miles away. Many orcs have tusks that protrude outward from their lower jaw. A tusk can range anywhere from the size of my finger to the largest of rams’ horns.
People say they’re the spawn of demons brought to Kartania from the underworld to cause chaos in the lives of humans, elves and dwarves. I don’t know about all that nonsense,” she scoffed. “I’m not sure where they came from or how they got here; all I know is they are a plague on this earth and should be exterminated.”
“I believe they are the spawn of demons,” Max said. “I didn’t know there were any left, though.”
Anders looked at him, eyebrows raised, “You believe in demons, but not dragons?”
“Yeah, so what?” he said with some extra authority.
Britt continued, “Orcs are unnaturally strong for their size but are notoriously slow. Most of them now congregate in the Highland Plateaus in Eastland.”
“I heard stories as a child that Eastland is the birthplace of the fairnheir, too,” Max said, completely engrossed by what Britt was saying.
“Isn’t that what Thargon is?” Anders asked. Britt cocked her head to the side, eyeing him, her brow furrowed in confusion. “Thargon is the one leading the soldiers we’re hunting.” Anders added to clarify for Britt.
“No,” Max said. “He’s a kurr.”
“Oh,” Anders said. “What’s a fairnheir then?”
“That beast that Thargon was riding the night your uncle was killed was a fairnheir,” Max said. Anders nodded picturing the beast on the streets of Grandwood during the attack and again on the road where Uncle Theodor met his demise. “They’re like hounds, but as large as bulls and have the disposition of badgers.”
Britt continued to eye them quizzically, “Well, in lighter news and to answer your question, Anders, I’ve sailed around this part of the world several times.” Max and Anders sighed together, remembering the origin of their conversation.
For the rest of the day Anders imagined what it would be like to fight in a battle against orcs, kurr, and fairnheir as his father and uncle had during The War of the Magicians.
“Pull up the sail and get out the oars,” Britt commanded the crew when they approached one of the Glacial Melt Bays.
Anders watched from behind an oar, rowing on the count, as the ships entered a narrow bay, lined with thick green vegetation different from that which he was used to seeing back at Highborn Bay. The ships beached along the shoreline and they helped Britt and the others unload gear to set up camp.
“So this is where the elves live,” Anders said, admiring the broad-leaved trees and their splayed branches growing off in many directions.
“This is the beginning of the Glacial Melt Bays and, yes, it’s the southernmost border of the Everlight Kingdom,” Britt said as she hauled several wooden shields onto shore.
“Where are all the elves?” Anders asked not seeing any sign of civilization as he searched the forested land.
“Not here,” Britt said. “If you ask me, they aren’t as bad as all the others will tell you.”
“What do you mean?” Anders asked.
“Oh, you don’t know about our relationship with them?” Britt asked as Anders shook his head. “Elves and our people don’t exactly get along. It all began about two hundred years ago. Some elves saw our people when we landed on their shores, somewhere in this bay area,” she said sweeping her hand along the shoreline.
“It was the first time anyone from our islands had sailed this far east. They were desperate and starving. The elves saw them, had empathy for their ravaged state and invited them into a nearby village. Using their healing spells, the elves brought the Rollo Islanders back to their full strength. Once the warriors were strong again and having seen all the silver and gold trinkets the elves had, the crew hatched a plan to steal all of the precious items that evening. The elves gathered in one of their lodges for a feast. The crew locked the back doors and set fire to the building. They stood at the front of the building and slew all those who tried to escape. When they were done, they stole everything of value they could find.”
“That’s a terrible thing to do to repay your hosts,” Anders said.
“Our people were raiders,” Britt said. “The only thing they cared about was wealth and war.”
“What happened next?” he asked.
“When they returned home to the Rollo Islands, the crew was praised by our high chiefs. They were seen as heroes for bringing back piles of wealth they didn’t know existed before. When the warriors returned to this area to take more, the elves knew what our people had done. The elves were prepared and slaughtered them on sight. Only a few of the warriors escaped to tell the tale. Ever since then our two nations have loathed one another.”
Britt could tell her story made Anders feel uncomfortable for being on elven soil with the entire Rollo Navy.
“It has been a long time since our people shed blood,” Britt reassured him. “Our quarrels have subsided greatly, no longer resulting in physical violence as often as before.”
The rest of the afternoon and evening were quite uneventful. Anders and Max made camp with the rest of Britt’s crew. Ivan, Red and Jorgen had meetings with the other Rollo leaders about how to begin searching the area. Anders and Max remained uninvited.
After the meetings concluded, those privy to them passed the word down to those in command of ships. Each lead captain commanded at least five ships. The chiefs passed the word down to the lead captains, who, in turn, let the captains of each ship know the plan. Each captain kept his or her crew members informed of the plans. Somehow Anders knew Britt would be keeping them much better informed than Red ever would have.
During dinner that night, Britt told her crew what would be happening the next day. They were to split up into groups led by each lead captain. One group would search to the east, one to the north, and one to the west. The last group would remain in charge of watching over the fleet of ships and protecting camp.
“I hope we don’t get stuck here babysitting the ships all day,” Max whispered to Anders. Anders agreed; he would prefer to do something to help rather than sit at camp all day wondering if anything important was happening in the field.
“We will be joining Red’s command and going to the north,” Britt said. Max and Anders smiled at the news. “We leave at first light. Got it?” she said looking everyone in the eye.
The crew replied in unison, “Yes, Captain.”
