The horde made swift progress, and by the third day, it had come within sight of the great city of Eastwood. Urgon had seen it before, but to many of his people, it was a symbol of Human might. Adding to the scene was the large army of several hundred that the earl had assembled. Definitely not as large as the Orc host, but still impressive. Urgon stared at Human warriors as he and his friends marched past.
“They are an imposing sight,” noted Urzath.
“Yes,” replied Urgon. “Even though they are fewer in number, they make up for it in armour. Had we such protection, we would be unstoppable.”
A group of cavalrymen rode past, grabbing their attention, if only for the moment.
“I should not like to meet the likes of those in battle,” said Urzath. “I wonder if our Ancestors ever rode horses?”
“According to Zhura, our distant kin rode wolves.”
“Then they must have been the size of younglings.”
“Not so. In those days, they bred wolves the size of ponies.”
“That must have been an impressive sight.”
“One would imagine,” mused Urgon, “but the Elves defeated us, nonetheless.”
“Yet here we are now,” continued Urzath, “joining our forces to those of the earl. Surely, there are none who can defeat us? Our army is strong, like a cave bear.”
“Yes, but even a cave bear can be brought down by wolves.”
“You fear we face defeat?”
“Our numbers are impressive, but we know so little of the Humans. This army of the earl's may be small in comparison to his fellow nobles.”
“Nobles? Are you now saying the earl and his friends are worthy of our friendship?”
Urgon frowned. “No, it is merely a term they use to denote their leaders.”
“You have learned much of our erstwhile allies.”
“Zhura has learned more. The Ancestors have spent lifetimes fighting Humans. There is much to be learned from their experiences.”
They passed the city but kept marching until the great forest of the Deerwood appeared on the horizon. Here they halted, making camp as darkness approached. Fires soon flickered to life, lighting the area like a hundred giant fireflies.
Kraloch wore a confused look as he sat by the fire. “All this marching confuses me,” he said.
“In what way?” asked Urgon.
“I had thought we intended to march with the earl, but instead, we continue west. Are we to keep moving until the end of time?”
Urgon chuckled. “I think our Human ally is a clever man.”
“Why? Because he sent us marching off to nowhere?”
“Not so. Our position is very deliberate.”
“Then would you be so kind as to explain it to me?”
“I believe the earl is laying a trap. He will hide us in the Deerwood, allowing us to emerge at a crucial time to take the enemy by surprise.”
“And will that work?”
“Hopefully. It largely depends on how intelligent his foe is.”
“And how many,” added Urzath.
“This horde is the largest ever assembled by our tribe,” said Kraloch.
“Yes,” Urgon agreed, “and likely numbers close to a thousand hunters. The Humans we passed earlier are much easier to count, formed up as they were in nice, straight lines. I reckon their numbers are roughly half ours, meaning they expect us to be doing the bulk of the fighting.” He shook his head. “Yet more proof that we are being used.”
“Any news concerning Agrug’s whereabouts?” asked Urzath.
“Yes,” said Kraloch. “According to Tarluk, he waits for us in the Deerwood.”
“That works in our favour,” said Urgon. “Amongst the trees, we can get close to him, then I can issue the challenge.”
“And if he refuses?”
“He leads us to war. Refusal of a challenge would only put his leadership into question. He will fight. He has to!”
“And you are sure you can defeat him?”
Urgon stared into the fire. “I have no choice. Our people are on the road to ruin. If I do nothing, our days are numbered.”
They entered the forest early the next day. Some of their hunters had trod these paths before, and so they led the way, guiding others along the twisted trails, taking them deep into the woods. Kraloch, as a shaman, soon found himself disoriented, unable to tell east from west, but Urgon knew the signs.
“We are turning south,” he announced.
“How can you tell?” asked Kraloch.
“The trees show me. Note the moss?”
“There is moss all over the trees.”
“On the ground, yes," Urgon said, "but it thrives in dark, moist areas. In these parts, that is mainly on the north side of a tree, but you must look higher than the ground.”
“Why is that?”
“The forest floor is damp, promoting its growth. Instead, look higher up the trunk or to the larger branches. Those will guide you northward.”
“I can see I am ill-suited to the life of a hunter.”
Urgon chuckled. “Then it is a good thing you are a shaman. Lean into your strengths, my friend, and embrace them.”
When they finally halted, the tribe scattered amongst the trees, finding small clearings to set up fires. One in ten hunters went foraging for food while the camp was prepared. Urzath soon appeared with a deer over her shoulders which she dropped before their small group and began cutting into. By nightfall, they were well fed and contemplating their next moves.
“How deep into the woods are we?” asked Kraloch.
“Likely a half-morning's walk,” noted Urzath. “Assuming you want the eastern edge.”
“Then where is Agrug? Was he not to meet us here?”
“Do not worry,” said Urgon. “If he means to attack come morning, he will make his presence known.”
“How do you know we attack in the morning?”
“We have little choice. We are too numerous to remain in place for long; we would strip the woods of all the game.” He spotted Tarluk wandering the camp. “Something is up.”
Urgon rose, pointing at the distant hunter. “He will lead us to Agrug.” His companions followed his lead, rising and grabbing their weapons. “Come,” said Urgon. “It is time we settle this once and for all.”
They followed at a discreet distance, careful to raise no suspicions. Tarluk stopped at every campfire, chatting amiably, sometimes for extended periods. Urgon grew frustrated, wondering if he were ever going to find their elusive chieftain.
Tarluk finally led them to the outskirts of the camp, pausing to chat with a couple of hunters who stood guard. Urgon looked around—there were no fires left to stop at. Surely he must soon lead them to Agrug?
A noise caught the guards' attention, and all turned to the darkness of the woods. Tarluk drew his axe, ordering the two hunters into the woods. He, however, chose not to follow, instead approaching the nearest fire. Urgon drew closer, the better to listen in.
“Get to the woods,” ordered Tarluk. “Something is out there.”
Five Orcs rose to the challenge, grasping their weapons. Off in the black of night, Urgon heard someone gasp and then the crashing of sticks and leaves as someone fled.
“After them!” he shouted as he tore into the woods, drawing his sword. The clash of metal on metal echoed back at him, and he knew someone was fighting. The big question was who?
Whoever it was, made no attempt at further concealing their location. A hunter ran towards him, clutching a wound to the stomach. Urgon grabbed him by the arm.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Humans encased in heavy metal armour.”
Kraloch began casting, his hands soon glowing with magical energy.
“How many?” asked Urgon.
“Only one—a female by the look of it.”
Kraloch placed his hands on the injured Orc, watching as the magical energy seeped into the wound, knitting flesh. Satisfied with the result, he turned to Urgon. “What now?”
Another Orc appeared, clutching a wound to their arm.
“It appears this Human warrior knows her business,” said Kraloch.
“We must stop her,” urged Urgon, “or she may take word of our presence to our enemy.”
Kraloch again invoked his magic, the strange words falling from his lips in a torrent. More Orcs ran past, intent on joining the fray, then came the battle cry, a high-pitched keening taken up by others. Urgon had been on many hunts and knew its meaning—they were closing in for the kill.
He rushed off, leaving Kraloch to finish his spell. Urzath stood a moment in indecision, struggling with her duty to protect the shaman or join Urgon. She finally turned to Vulgar and Gorath. “You two stay here,” she commanded, then rushed into the darkness.
Urgon ran forward, seeking the fight, but the canopy of trees blocked out the moon, limiting his night vision. He paused, listening to the sounds around him, eager to pick out any details that might help him ascertain the location of the enemy.
Urzath appeared at his side. He nodded at her, then heard the distant sound of an axe hitting wood.
“This way,” he said, tearing off as fast as he could, eager to see this foe who so perplexed them. Twigs snapped beneath his feet; branches tore at his clothes, yet still, he ran, desperate to help.
Finally, he slowed, listening once more, but his breath came in ragged gasps, and he knew he must calm himself if he was to have any hope of hearing the enemy. His breath grew quiet. Orcs advanced in a line now, calling out to each other in their quest to find their prey.
A twig snapped to his front, and then a further clash of steel rang out, echoing off the trees. Again, the hunting cry as the Orcs moved in, closing the trap, but their prey was wily. On and on, they pressed, yet their foe proved too clever. Again and again, the silence was followed by a brief clash of fighting, and Urgon could only wonder if this Human female were a ghost.
It dragged on forever. Urgon found himself caught up in the scene, not as a participant but as an observer, listening for the telltale sounds of his hunters rushing forward for the kill.
“She is clever, this Human,” he said. “She knows how to use the darkness to her advantage.”
Urzath grinned. “She is a hunter, I have no doubt.”
“No, she is a warrior. No hunter would wear metal armour.”
“Still, if all are as skilled as her, we will be hard-pressed to defeat them in battle.”
“You forget, Urzath, we are here to prevent that very thing.”
“Then ignore this attack. Let us concentrate on finding Agrug.”
“Not yet,” said Urgon. “I would know how this ends.”
“We will kill this Human. How else could it end?”
He looked skyward to see light. “Dawn has come,” he said, “and with it our last hope.”
An ear-piercing whistle sang through the woods.
“What was that?” Urgon asked.
“It seems our Human wants to be found. Why else make such a noise?”
“Indeed. Let us rush forward. I would meet this warrior before she dies.”
The noise of combat intensified, and then they came upon the fight itself. A ring of Orcs surrounded the woman, their axes at the ready. The Human was up against a tree to protect her back, but she was clearly worn out.
“Now she is doomed,” said Urzath. The woman kept stabbing and slashing, each blow weaker than the last. The Orcs pressed forward, moving in for the kill.
Off to the side, there was a tremendous footfall, the likes of which Urgon had never before heard. Moments later, a massive horse rushed past, almost trampling them to death. Only the quick reaction of Urzath saved him, for she pulled him from its path even as it burst from the underbrush.
Urgon watched, mesmerized as the great beast made its way towards the Human. It slowed as it neared, and she rushed forward, grasping the saddle and hanging on for dear life. The Orcs, unaccustomed to such creatures, dove out of its path. A moment later, it disappeared from sight, although the sound of it crashing through the woods echoed back at them.
“By the Ancestors,” said Urzath. “Did you see the size of that thing?”
“It is only a horse, nothing more,” said Urgon. “Remember those of the earl?”
“I do, but they were far smaller.” She looked at him. “If they have more of those creatures, then we are surely doomed.”
Footfalls echoed through the forest, this time behind them. Many Orcs streamed past, armed and ready to fight, and Urgon felt his stomach tighten. It was too late—the battle had begun!