The tribe had waited in relative silence while the small group met. But as they exited the shaman’s hut, those gathered grew more vocal in their demands to know what had transpired.
Shuvog, as chieftain, sat at the end of the outdoor firepit, while Shular remained standing. Urgon, Zhura, and Kraloch sat on the other side of the shaman, leading to even more gasps from the Orcs assembled before them.
Shular held up her staff, calling them all to silence. “We discussed the matter at great length,” she said. “The question of Urgon’s guilt or innocence is now irrelevant. Instead, we must discuss another matter. I shall yield to Kraloch, a shaman of this tribe.” She sat, allowing her protégé to stand.
“As you all witnessed," began Kraloch, "Zhura and Urgon desire to be bonded. What is perhaps less well understood is that Zhura is not considered a member of this tribe, for she has not passed her own ordeal. Considering her condition, it would be dangerous and foolhardy to ask her to undergo the same rituals the rest of us did. So I now ask this tribe to accept her as a full-fledged Black Arrow. That is the decision resting before you. Does anyone have any questions?”
Urzath stood, then waited for Kraloch to acknowledge her presence.
“Yes, Urzath. You may speak freely.”
“I am all for allowing Zhura membership in this tribe,” she said, “but Urgon is the master of wolves. Where would they live once bonded?”
“A good question, and one I believe best answered by Urgon.” He looked at his comrade. Urgon rose, but Zhura clung to him, standing unsteadily by his side.
“I have been enlarging my hut,” he said. “With help, I will cover the walls in mud, the same as Zhura's current home.”
“How, then, would the shamans visit without your interference?” asked Shular.
“I have already considered the problem. The inside of the hut will consist of two rooms, much like the chieftain’s, although clearly smaller in scale. It would provide the privacy required for such visits.”
“And the wolves?”
“They would not bother me,” said Zhura. “Their spirits are calming.”
Urgon looked at her in surprise. “They are?”
“Yes. They do not chatter away endlessly as our Ancestors do.”
He almost laughed out loud, then remembered where he was.
“Are there any other questions?” he asked the tribe.
Another Orc rose, this time Arshug the bowyer. “Would others then be able to visit the ghostwalker?”
“That would be for Zhura to decide,” said Urgon. He looked down at her, but such was her discomfort he didn’t press the issue.
“Then I have no further questions. I say we tally the stones,” said Arshug as she sat.
Shular rose, picked up a wicker basket, and then made her way through the crowd and, with the help of Kraloch and Kurghal, handed a painted stone to each member of the tribe. They then returned to their previous positions.
“It is now time to collect the stones,” Shular announced. “Kurghal shall go amongst you. A stone deposited in the basket means you agree to make Zhura a full-fledged member of the tribe. Its absence is a rejection of this. Kurghal will tally the vote once collected, and if there are enough stones to account for a majority of the tribe, then we shall welcome a new sister to our number.”
Kraloch looked at her in surprise. “You will not conduct the tally yourself?”
“I am not impartial in this matter.”
Kurghal moved amongst the tribe. Many dropped their stones into the basket, but it was by no means a unanimous decision. She eventually returned, dumping the stones out to count them.
The tribe quickly grew restless, talking amongst themselves. Urgon hated the wait, fearing it would do little for Zhura’s condition, but then his sister finally moved to stand by the chieftain’s side.
“It is the decision of this tribe,” she said, “that we welcome our sister Zhura to its number.”
Kraloch shouted out in triumph, then looked across to his friend only to witness Zhura's collapse.
Urgon scooped her up into his arms. “Quickly,” he called out. “We must get her back to the mud hut. She is overwhelmed.”
The Orcs parted as Kraloch led the way. It was only a short distance to her home, but Urgon fretted. They finally passed through the entrance to the hut, and he laid her out on the furs.
“Zhura,” he said. “Can you hear me?”
Her eyes fluttered open. “I am here,” she said, “though I am weak. I must rest.”
Urgon let out a sigh of relief. “You had me worried for a moment.”
“As was I,” said Kraloch. “I suggest we leave.”
“I would have you stay,” said Zhura, taking Urgon’s hand. “Watch over me as I recover. It would do me good to know you are nearby.”
“I shall,” said Urgon. “I promise.”
Urgon stepped from the mud hut to see Urzath and a few others waiting there.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
“Not at all,” replied the hunter. “I gathered some friends, and we are here to help you finish the work on your new home.”
Urgon peered around her. “Gorath? He is still a youngling. Of what use is he?”
Urzath smiled. “He can fetch and carry like anyone else, and it frees up Arshug to assist as well. She was, I understand, involved in the original construction of the mud hut.”
“She was,” said Urgon, “and would be a fountain of knowledge, yet I do not see her.”
“She says the mud here is unsuitable to the task and has therefore taken a group down onto the plains, to the same place they originally found it.”
Urgon noticed a very tall Orc towering over the rest. “And who is that?”
Urzath looked over her shoulder and smiled. “That is Vulgar. He comes to us from one of the northern villages. Surely the largest Orc to ever tread these hills.”
“You have done well, Urzath. Thank you.”
“We are here for you, Urgon, despite what others may think. Will Zhura be joining us?”
“No. She is much recovered, but the noise of the spirits is far too loud out here. She will remain inside for now, but hopefully, once some of the walls are mudded, she will come out and have a look. Is Kraloch about?”
“He is over at the wolf master's hut, examining your work.”
“Then let us join him.”
Urzath turned to Vulgar. “Remain here, if you will, to keep Zhura safe.”
The huge Orc nodded, then took up a position before the door to the mud hut.
“Is that truly necessary?” asked Urgon.
“There is a lot of bad feeling amongst the tribe,” she replied. “It is, I think, wise to take precautions.”
“Wise, maybe, but unnecessary. The door is protected by magic.”
“Even magic can be destroyed by an axe.”
Urgon felt an icy hand grasp his heart. “You believe they would stoop to that?”
“It is merely a precaution, my friend. Worry not. We are but a short distance away should any trouble present itself.”
Kraloch stood inside the pen with the wolves at his feet while staring at the hut’s walls.
“I see you are deep in thought,” said Urgon. “Tell me what is on your mind.”
“It occurs to me,” his friend replied, “that the key to keeping Zhura comfortable is the mud.”
“We know that already.”
“Let me be more specific. I believe the mud used on Zhura’s hut has something in it that helps dampen the sound.”
“A reasonable assumption. Shular insisted on a particular kind of mud when they built the place all that time ago. Thankfully, Arshug remembers where they gathered it.”
“I should very much like to examine it when she returns. If I can determine what lies within it, we may have other options.”
“And if not?”
Kraloch shrugged. “Then we simply plaster the walls as they did in the past. I would, however, suggest we thicken the walls a little. I also have another idea.”
“Which is?”
“Come, let me show you.” He led Urgon to a place where the new hut’s wall ran along the edge of the wolf pen. “I was looking over your work when I noticed this spot here.”
Urgon stared at the frame of a wall, built of sticks and tied off with leather strips, but there was little else to note. “The wall is merely unfinished,” he said. “Clearly, there is still work to be done.”
“Yes, but if you look here”—Kraloch pointed—“there is an opening facing onto the wolf pen.”
“As I said, only because the work is unfinished.”
“Use your imagination, my friend. What if we kept a hole here?”
“To what end?”
“It would allow you and Zhura to look out upon the wolves when desired.”
“That would also let in the sounds of the spirits.”
Kraloch grinned. “I have a solution to that as well. We build a small panel which can hang from above. To open it, you would push it out and use a stick to hold it in place. Of course, the panel itself would need to be coated in mud.”
Urgon saw the potential and smiled. “It would let her look out while not being overcome by all the noise. Wherever did you get such an idea?”
“The truth of the matter is Urzath told me.”
Urgon turned to the shaman’s cousin. “This was your idea?”
“I saw that sort of thing on a Human hut. They call it a window.”
“You have met Humans?”
“I have,” said Urzath. “There are a number of their dwellings on the way to the Deerwood.”
“You entered their city?”
“No, but the Humans scatter their buildings everywhere. And they till the land and raise animals.”
“What kinds of animals? Do they have wolves?”
“No, although some have dogs. They are similar to wolves, but… well, you would need to see them to understand.”
“And you talked to them?”
Urzath nodded. “Those who live outside their city can be quite reasonable. We do not speak their language, of course, nor do they speak our tongue, but we manage well enough.”
“And you trade with them? What do they have that would be of use?”
“Worked metal, mostly, although not as good as that of the mountain folk.”
“And what do you trade for this metal?”
“Mainly meat or pelts.” She reached into a small pouch slung over her shoulder and pulled forth a few flat metal disks. “They also have these. They call them coins. It is how they barter amongst their own people.”
Urgon took one, holding it close to his eyes. “I have seen this metal before,” he said.
“Yes, it is silver. Much favoured by the Dwarves.”
“There is an image on this coin.”
“The mark of their king. It is what they call their chieftain of chieftains.”
Urgon shook his head, passing back the coin. “Such a strange people.”
“They are much like us if truth be told, appearances aside.”
“I have never seen a Human. What do they look like?”
“They are a little shorter than us but still taller than a Dwarf. Their skin tone varies from a dark brown to a very light colour, like that of a skinned mouse.”
“And they are friendly?”
“Some are, but the closer one gets to their city, the more likely they are to be hostile. Perhaps one day you will accompany us on the long hunt, then you can see for yourself.”
“I would enjoy that very much.”
“Enough of these Humans,” said Kraloch. “Tell me what you think of this idea of a window?”
“I like it, and I think Zhura will as well.”
“Then the time for talk is done. Let us get to work.”
It took them two days to complete what Urgon had started, then came the laborious task of applying the mud. Arshug showed them how to first mix it with rushes, then apply the mixture to the stick frame. The work was messy and made all the more challenging by the cooler weather that had moved in, but there was a feeling of camaraderie that couldn’t be denied. A ten-day later, they stood back, admiring their work.
“A fine sight,” said Urgon.
“A strange one to be sure,” said Kraloch. “There is no other hut quite like it.”
“I shall fetch Zhura. She is eager to see it.” He entered the old mud hut to find her waiting, the excitement in her eyes bubbling over.
“Is it ready?” she asked.
“It is,” he said, taking her hand. “Come, let me show you our new home.”
“It is not our home yet,” she reminded him. “We are still to be bonded.”
“That will be taken care of shortly. In the meantime, let me show you what we did.”
Urgon led Zhura from the hut, pausing to allow her to acclimatize herself to the outside world. She once told him the assault on her senses was as if hundreds of people were all talking at the same time. He saw her flinch, then put a reassuring arm around her. The others stood by, watching in silence as she slowly made her way to their new home. It was only when Urgon led her through the doorway that he felt her finally relax.
“It is quite spacious,” she said, a smile gracing her features.
“This is the main room, and that door there”—he pointed—“leads to the wolf den.”
“And the third door?”
“Come, let me show you.” He pushed aside the hangings, revealing the interior. Furs lined the floor while a firepit crackled at its centre. “This will be where we sleep,” he announced.
She looked around in awe. “I would never have dreamed of having so much space.” She moved to the wall that faced the pen. “What is this?”
“Urzath calls it a window. It is a Human idea.” He pushed it open, then propped it up with a stick.
Zhura stood before it, enjoying a gentle breeze. “Beautiful,” she said.
“Yes, and if the noise gets too loud, you can close it.”
“I look forward to moving in.”
“Then come outside. I have another surprise for you.”
“So many? What now?”
“You need to wait and see.”
He led her outside to where a small group of friends waited.
“If you are ready, Kraloch will conduct the ceremony of bonding.”
She looked at him with tears in her eyes. “Nothing would make me happier.”
Kraloch indicated the Orc to his left. “You already know Kurghal, Urgon’s sister. She shall act as witness on his behalf.” He then turned to his right. “This is my mother, Maloch. She is pleased to perform a similar function on your behalf.”
“Will your own mother not join us?” asked Zhura.
“No,” said Urgon. “She has made her views quite clear on the subject of our bonding. We shall proceed without her.”
“Stand before me,” said Kraloch, “and we shall begin.” He waited until they were in place, then continued. “Zhura, Urgon, you are here today to bond yourselves to one another, as is our custom.” He turned to Urgon. “Do you, Urgon, undertake this bonding of your own free will?”
“I do.”
“And you, Zhura, do you agree to this bonding of your own free will?”
“I do, most assuredly.”
“Who here witnesses these vows?”
Kurghal stepped forward. “I, Kurghal, shamaness of the Black Arrows, do hereby witness these vows and do affirm Urgon commits to this bonding with a free heart.”
Kraloch nodded to his mother, who also stepped forth.
“And I, Maloch, do hereby witness these vows and affirm Zhura, ghostwalker of the Black Arrows, commits to this bonding with a free heart.”
“It is now time to exchange vows,” said Kraloch. “Urgon?”
The master of wolves turned to Zhura, and they stood facing each other, holding on to hands. “Since first we met, we were destined for each other. In those days, I was but a youngling, ready to take on the world, yet without guidance. I was content to simply become a hunter, like most Orcs. Little did I realize I would find the Orc who would make my heart sing when I crawled into that hut. You complete me, Zhura of the Black Arrows, and I am pleased to name you bondmate.”
Maloch sniffled, then wiped tears from her eyes, an action not lost on her son.
“And I,” said Zhura, “I was lost and alone, abandoned to face a lifetime of loneliness and solitude, and then you came into my life. You set my heart aflutter, Urgon, son of Urdar, and your smile warms me. I am overjoyed I shall call you bondmate.”
“Give me your hands,” said Kraloch.
They both extended their arms, he, his left, she, her right. Kraloch took a braided cord and wrapped it around their wrists. “As I symbolically bind your hands, so too shall your hearts be bound in this mortal realm.”
“And beyond,” said Zhura, “for I would not see our spirits parted.”
“Nor I,” said Urgon.
“That is not part of the ceremony,” said Kraloch.
“I know,” replied Zhura, “but it is somehow fitting.”
“Urzath?” called out Kraloch.
Urzath stepped forward, a bowl in her hands.
“Drink now of the milk of life,” continued Kraloch, “but sparingly, Urgon. You remember what happened last time.”
Urgon took a sip, then handed the bowl to Zhura, who sniffed it before she copied his actions. The milk of life was passed around to the others until they had all tasted it.
“And now,” said Kraloch, “let it be known to all, Urgon, master of wolves and Zhura, ghostwalker of Ord-Dugath are bondmates.” He grinned broadly. “Congratulations, both of you.”
The others stepped in, adding their own words of encouragement.
“Now,” said Urgon, “it is time to invite you all to enter this hut, OUR home where we shall celebrate our bonding.”