Lady Orc

Chp. 3

Chp. 3

Kaolaidhe sat numbly staring at the crack in the curtains; at the passing foliage and occasional unrecognizable piece of a soldier. However, she could not motivate herself enough to open the curtains and actually look out.

As she half-dozed, numb from grief, and lolled by the natural rocking of the carriage, she clearly remembered the trips she would take with her father as a child.

She was so excited by everything; the estates of other nobles, servants bustling around in proper livery, not like the street clothes their own servants wore. As the carriage rolled into darkness that meant they were now traveling Underhill, though one of the public concourses maintained by the Aos Si for lesser races not strong enough to travel Underhill themselves, she was struck with two thoughts. The first was now she would owe someone a favor for the use of their tunnel, she could travel the magical byways herself, but not with this many people and not on such a distractingly painful day. The second was of her first trip to the Royal Court, which again took her away from the moment and into her past.

It was that same summer she was traveling with her father. She was so pleased to be spending alone time with him. So proud to be old enough to be taught his business, with the Orcs the primary training for adulthood was to be taught how your parents lived their lives. It was considered to hold you in good stead whether your life followed their pattern or not.

She had spent the entire time in the tunnel that day glued to the window, although there was nothing to see other than an earthen tunnel with just enough illumination from glowing lichen that the retainers walking along beside the carriage did not trip or entangle with each other. Today she knew what she’d see outside and she didn’t bother.

Three hours through the tunnel and they were across the country a few hours from the Orc holdings and her father’s estates. Her estates, she corrected, not completely in the real world. A small, dirty, bustling area had built up around the exit of the subterranean tunnel. Food, goods, and slaves were hawked; none of the greatest quality because the more powerful races could access their own demesnes through any gate leading Under, and could use the exits maintained by the sufferage of their ruler to ride out of there demesnes into any other area; so the public thoroughfare was only used by lesser races, Orcs, and those few biracial individuals unable to find acceptance in the house of either parent. So the food was hearty simple peasant’s fare. The goods, the rough and hard wearing stock of the working man. And the slaves were humans, human mixes, and spirit broken slaves that had worn the collar for three generations or more.

Kaolaidhe usually had an eye for slaves, even this weary and unimpressive stock would have warranted examination, as she was always watching for a bargain. A specimen more valuable than the slavers knew. Or just more valuable than one could expect to find in an area like this. But today she had no energy to spare bargaining for new possessions, or even wanting them.

Kaolaidhe lost herself again in reminiscence, this time of the discussions surrounding her trying to get into school. Her father would have preferred her help with his cause, the cause of their entire race. But he knew he couldn’t offer her much of a future, his belief in himself and his cause didn’t stop him from knowing it was not a popular one and while he also knew his chances might more than double with her assistance, he couldn’t ask her to give up her dreams when he couldn’t promise anything better.

She wished she could apologize to him. She wished she could give him his greatest wish when he was still alive to enjoy it. But her only choice was commiserating with a giant clay monster, and somehow that wasn’t the same.

Kaolaidhe settled back in her chair and sighed, closing her eyes. She had an idea of how best to make use of the kevolom that had remained of her father, but she had to gather the right spells to even have a chance of it working. And as an initiate student with no formal training she wasn’t even one hundred percent clear on the existence of the spells let alone how to work them.

As her brain processed what she planned to do she opened the curtain and looked out. They turned off the highway onto Orc lands. It was dry sage scrub, rocky soil that wasn’t good for much. No surprise the lands granted to the Orcs would be the lands no one else wanted. She saw older children in gathering teams, observed by the occasional adult combing through the brush on each side of the road for comestibles to bring back. After several miles of woods on each side the land cleared to irrigated fields and orchards; where teens, soldiers on punishment duty, and criminals worked the land. Tilling soil, weeding between plants and gathering what produce was ready.

Kaolaidhe could see livestock in the distance. Magical wards kept them out of the vegetable patches, but they were allowed to wander free through the trees of the orchards and the surrounding brush stopped by further wards approximately five hundred yards from the futhermost edges of Orc lands. The cattle were easy to spot, horses only slightly less so, but sheep and pigs were often concealed by grey-green and brown growth extending out to the grassy hills where fuzzy lumps could be seen but no non-magical person could tell what they were at this distance.

Kaolaidhe's natural magical skill gave her the ability to identify animals even at this distance, just knowing with no effort, but it was not a skill she took any pride in.

The horses began to pick up speed, eager to be home, the handlers let them have their heads and the soldiers found a last reserve of strength to mostly keep up, for the same reason. It had been a very long day, only made possible through the magic of Underhill travel. There had been a few dwellings they had passed of Orcs who for some reason chose to live in the outskirts or farm areas, either for work or privacy. But when they entered the town proper where most Orcs had built their dwellings in community, young children quickly surrounded them cheering and chattering.

As they were a variable people, who had each been responsible for building their own dwellings. There were horsehide yurts beside log cabins and stone cottages. And the short list of dwelling types did no justice to the long list of dwelling styles where no two were comparable that had not been built by close family members.

The Keep where the family lived was in the form of a box built of granite blocks with walls thick enough for rooms and hallways. This is where the family and their servants lived. In the huge open courtyard in the center there was a wood fenced kennel surrounding the low horsehide structure that acted as a communal den. The smell of which went a long way toward the swinwulfs viewing horses as allies rather than prey. Which meant while they could be commanded to kill enemy horses they were trained not to eat them, and when left to their own devices just didn't bother with them at all.

Also in this center area was a large rectangular building used for royal audience chamber, or formal receiving room, or ball room depending on the need. It was forged primarily of slabs of quartz that even with non translucent mortar it still looked somewhat like stained glass from the inside in full sun; and even more like it from the outside at night. It was blocky and stone like most Orcian art, but it did have a primitive beauty.

As the carriage rolled the last few hundred yards Kaolaidhe wished she could order the procession turned around or even to simply call a halt; anything to stop this new life that was bearing down on her like an avalanche.

She never wanted this, and even more she never wanted the prerequisite events that brought this to her. Her father was gone. Her mother had chosen a different life years ago and Kaolaidhe and her brothers accepted that with nary a second thought, but now she wished she had someone here. She had cherished family retainers, but it wasn't the same. Especially Ooti'tecumsa, Her Lutin/Kobold/Elbow Witch nanny. Ooti, who had taken on a more maternal role uninvited and only occasionally appreciated after Kaolaidhe's mother left.

“I see no soldiers.” She said turning to her brother.

“There aren’t many.” He said. “Those who stayed to command the citizenry in militia defense in our absence are likely spread pretty thin.”

She knew that there was a reason such a ragged band had accompanied her brothers to collect her she had just not contemplated it deeply in the face of everything else. She would have to find some way to bolster her numbers, but this was not the time for her to even contemplate that.