Bors

A Warmaster Jack Novella

By Onyx Tao

Section Two

This content is available for reuse under the Creative Commons Attribution NonCommercial ShareAlike License © 2011 by Onyx Tao

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The next night, Yellem reported the God had said, mostly to the question of whether the Sharpened Spit Warmaster Jack would meet fair or not, and that was good enough for Paw. It meant that Jack wanted something, and if we were canny, we could get something for it, but that Jack wasn't a pushover, not that Paw thought he was. My thought was, yeah? If Jack was so tough, why didn't he come himself?

Paw sent Iddik back. We'd meet on the border, just uphill of the Witch Tree, in ten days. That was Kett's idea; there was a meadow there, a big one, lots of visibility, not to many places to hide, pretty safe. Well, unless you knew about the tunnel underneath, but although Paw and Kett and I did, I don't think Jack did. Jack might be interested in meeting mostly fair, but Paw and me like an advantage. Or two. Or three. When Jack sent back that he'd be there, with one or two others, I figured we'd have them. It's a hell of a lot easier to bargain from a position of strength.

Kett and his warband were waiting in the tunnel for our signal. Paw might not send it, but I'd already decided I would. I'd call it an accident, and take the beating, although I was pretty sure Paw would have the sense to send it, once we knew what the Spits wanted. And what they'd brought. Gold was shiny, and I'd heard Jack had plenty of it.

It was about midnight when Jack appeared, a gnoll with him, and a warband behind him. In the distance, he was just a tall figure. The gnoll stood out, though, clearly not an orc, and not part of the warriors. He'd brought a lot more than the one or two he'd mentioned, but then, we'd expected it, and we had about the same behind us. And of course Kett was out of sight, down in the tunnels.

The gnoll stopped at a rise in the hill - right by the tunnel outlet, and Jack walked towards us - me and Paw - as if he were just out for a stroll. I guess the first thing I thought was, he looked young, maybe younger than my twenty-two years, and that was just way too young to be a chieftain. He didn't look that scary, not at first, but the impression changed as he walked up to us. He was tall, taller than me or Paw, and bigger, too. He'd brought his sword, a huge mean looking sharp thing across his back - the kind that wouldn't fit anywhere else. Paw and me brought axes, but it would be a near thing, I thought. Of course, there were bowmen back behind us. And probably some behind him, too. Kett would have to move fast when we signaled him.

"Good evening, Chieftain Griter," Jack said. He had a deep voice with a faint rasp in it, sounded good, I thought. "I should probably give you fair notice, though."

"Notice of what?"

"The gnoll? Standing up at the tunnel entrance? You see her?"

Paw looked a little queasy, and I didn't blame him - I'm sure I did, too. How the hell did he know about the tunnel?

"I do," he said.

"Well, if your boars down there so much as peep she'll kill them," Jack said. "You ever heard of cloudkill?"

I hadn't, but it sure didn't sound good. I thought maybe Paw had, because he didn't look happy at all, and in fact, Paw just nodded in the affirmative.

"Well, Darz there is holding one," Jack continued. "And she's at the high point of the tunnel. They're in the low point."

"I know," Paw said, through gritted teeth. "Well, I guess we're fucked."

Jack shrugged, and then he smiled. "Ah, don't take it the wrong way. It took me a while to figure out how you'd jimmied the meet. Pretty clever, I liked it, I won't hold it against you." The smile faded into into a colder grin. "This time. Call me Jack."

"I'm Griter. This here's m'son Bors."

"Jack," I said, trying to be friendly.

The look he gave me showed I'd failed. "You," he said to me, "call me Warmaster, until you're chieftain." I don't know how he did it, but that was as clear a threat as I've ever heard.

Paw thwacked me, not hard, but enough to know I'd better do that. "Warmaster," I said.

"That's right," Jack said.

"So why are we out here on this fine night, Jack?"

"Griter - I can call you that, can't I?" and Jack actually waited for Paw to nod before continuing, "I've got a border problem. You see, I don't really want to deal with any humans. I have plans, and they're going good, but sharing a border with humans right now is just not in my plans, you know? Have to guard it, watch it, and they sneak through it anyway, worse than cockroaches, humans - and I've already got Hellknights sniffing my ass from the south, I want the west nice and cozy and quiet."

"Our border, you mean," Paw said.

"Yeah. Now, I could take your clan right now - and I almost did," Jack admitted. "Let Darz kill the warriors under us, take out the thirty-nine behind you -" it did not surprise me he knew exactly how many there were, not after showing he knew about the tunnel "- and I could just sail into your warcamp and that's all she wrote," Jack said, which was a weird thing to say, but it didn't seem like a good moment for me to speak. The meaning was clear enough, anyway. You're all dead.

Paw didn't say anything for a moment, and then, "But you're not going to, or you'd already done it."

Jack nodded. "Nothing personal, but yes. And I thought about it while I was walking over here instead of stopping up there with Darz. A nice quiet border with the humans and a clan that looks like a buffer between them and me - that's what I want. Can the Bleeding Slash orcs deliver that for me?"

"I think we could," Paw said, and I could tell he was thinking hard. "But you want it quiet."

Thag got a nod from the Warmaster. "No raids into the human-settled lands. Now, if anyone pokes their head over the border, chop it off. The harder the better," Jack said. "No questions. And if maybe the humans look like they've brought in more than the Bleeding Slash want to take on - no, I'm not questioning your warriors, just pointing out that humans occasionally have an army up their sleeve - then you send word to me, and we'll take care of 'em."

"Be kinda lean with no raids," Paw said. Now, that was Paw at his noncommittal best.

Jack shrugged. "I got supply, you won't go hungry."

"Might work. Might. It's worth some thought." Paw said.

"Think fast," Jack said, sounding cheerful. "I want a decision tonight. Your men don't know I've got your balls in my fist at the moment, and there's no need for them to know that." He paused, and looked at me carefully. "Except for this one." The huge orc turned back to Paw. "It's not a bad deal, and you won't lose face by taking it. In fact, you might even look stronger, call that supply I promised a peace offering, and that should make you look pretty damned good."

"Maybe," Paw said. "Harder to keep the boars in line, though."

"If you couldn't keep your warriors in line, you wouldn't be a chieftain and I wouldn't be talking to you," Jack countered. "I think that's a fine deal, Griter."

"It sounds good," Paw said. "Maybe ... a little too good. How are you getting that supply, Jack? What am I letting myself in for?"

"Nothing that will be your problem," Jack said, in an ask me no questions tone. "But if you're curious, there just might be some dwarf-rations included."

Paw nodded like that meant something to him. "Maybe some dwarf to go with it?"

"Could be, could be" Jack said still in that cheerful way. "If you want it. Didn't know that was to your taste."

"Hear your lot's been having pig," Paw said, like he was bringing something up he didn't want to talk about, and he probably didn't. The Spits were known for spitting, roasting - and eating - their foes. Alive, although that just might be scare-talk. It wasn't something the Slash did.

Jack shrugged. "I've got plenty of what I need, Griter. I'm not fattening you and yours up, if that's what you're asking."

"How do I know your pet wizard's ready with a cloudkill?"

Jack just chuckled. "You want she should demonstrate?"

"No," Paw said. "Damn it. You do got my balls proper."

"Lucky for you I don't want them right now," Jack said, and then he leaned in. "And, Griter, when I want them, if I want them - don't imagine, don't even wonder about it - I'll take 'em." He nodded. "You believe that."

"I believe ... you believe it," Paw said, and that was real careful talking from Paw.

Jack just smiled again. "Believe it."

Paw's eyes finally slipped down. "I don't see I've got much choice, really. And, like you say, it's not such a bad deal."

Jack nodded. "So what sort of sugar you want with it?"

That apparently confused Paw as much as me, because Paw said, "What?"

"Sorry," Jack said, actually sounding a little sorry. "It's a human phrase, making a deal better is called sweetening the deal."

"You spent time in human lands?"

"Twenty-five years or so," Jack said.

He didn't look that old, nowhere near that old. "How old are you?" I asked, ignoring the look from Paw.

Jack looked like he'd expected the question. "Thirty-nine."

"You're lying," Paw said flatly - that was older than Paw was.

For a minute, I thought Jack might be insulted, but apparently not. "Might be," Jack admitted. "I might be a year or two off, in either direction. I was orc-raised, so I'm not exactly sure when I was born."

"You're half-human," Paw said suddenly. "Aren't you?"

"It's not a secret," Jack said. "I am. I got orc looks and just maybe human years. Lucky me, eh?"

Paw nodded. "Well, you made good, anyway."

For some reason that seemed to amuse Jack. "So I did, Griter."

"Actually, I'm called Grit."

Jack bowed. "Just Jack, I don't have any other nickname, Grit, but I'm delighted."

"Then we're done."

"No," said Jack. "I said I was delighted, not charmed, and not stupid. You haven't said no, and you haven't said yes, and until then ... We're. Not. Done." The big half-orc made a suggestive half-turn toward the gnoll, reminding us just what would happen if we said no.

It wasn't lost on Paw. "Then I say yes," Paw said. I guessed he'd decided that he couldn't bluff his way out. "I'll take your deal. I'll keep the border quiet, in return for provender and ... reinforcement. And women. Human women." Paw gave Jack a grin that the half-orc didn't return. He was quiet, almost still, before he spoke.

"I won't promise what I can't provide," Jack said finally. "Not happening. Sows, sows I can do. Maybe some halfbloods. No human females, though, not this year, or at least, not reliably. I'll keep it in mind, and I'll see what I can do, but all I can promise are sows. Things will change, Grit," and now Jack sounded conspiratorial, "but right now ... all I can offer are sows."

Paw shrugged. "I'll take 'em."

Jack nodded. "And that brings us to the last point. Not negotiable."

"What?"

"Him," and Jack pointed at me. Me? What did he want with me? "He's coming with me."

"What?" Paw said. "No!"

"Yes," said Jack. "Or the deal's off, and I just go with plan B." I guess that meant kill everyone.

"Why?"

"Hostage," Jack said. "I doubt he's much good, but he's better than nothing."

Paw shook his head. "I ... you don't need him."

"No?"

"No, we've got a good deal, and a war coming, unless you're just teasing an old man. I need him here."

"Not. Negotiable," said Jack, and he gave me a smile. "Besides, think of how much he'll find out. I mean, what do you know about me?"

"Not enough," Paw said.

"There you go, then," Jack said encouragingly.

"No," Paw said. "Can't do it."

"No?" asked Jack, sounding a bit disappointed. "Oh well," Jack said, and started to lift his arm.

"Wait!" Paw said, suddenly.

"Why?" Jack's arm was halfway up, and I suddenly realized that must be the signal to the gnoll. Would that crazy fucker really start a war over that single point? Over me?

I started to wonder if he would, when Paw said, "Damn it, take the boy, then." Apparently Paw thought he would, too.

"Glad you see it my way," Jack said.

"You're pretty convincing," Paw said, and looked at me. "Damn it."

"Oh, I'll take care of him," Jack said. "No worries."

"Paw," I said, a little worried. The last thing I wanted to do was go with this fucker, but I didn't see how I could get out of it.

"Shut up, Bors. I'm ... I'm not gonna get everyone killed over you right now," Paw said, and then looked at Jack. "But it won't always be like this."

Jack just looked back at him. "Maybe not," he said. "Come with me, Bors."

"Now?"

"Yes, now," Jack said, sounding slightly annoyed. "Funny thing is, there's no other time than now." The tall half-orc turned, and began walking back up the hill where the gnoll was standing.

"Go," Paw said to me, quietly. "Damn it, boy, he's right. I'll get you back. Take care of yourself. Don't ... listen to me, Bors," Paw said quickly. "Don't fuck with this one. Don't bend over for him, but for the God's sake, don't fuck with him neither. You hear me?"

"I hear you," I said.

He nodded. "Then go."

"I thought the plan was to wipe them out," the gnoll said calmly as we reached her. "After they so conveniently went and stuffed themselves into that tunnel."

"Yeah," Jack said casually. "Changed my mind again. I'd rather have them as a buffer. It's worth a little inconvenience if it keeps the humans away for another year or two. And if that doesn't work ... I'll deal with Griter myself. I just don't think there's a lot of risk here. What can they do?"

"Initiate a series of raids on humans and stir them up," the gnoll said promptly. "That would be more than a little inconvenient."

"Yeah, that's the worst case, I admit, but why would they?" Jack said. "They'd take the brunt of any reprisal, and after that, Griter knows I'd come by, and I wouldn't be very happy with him. Either way, he loses. He's not the type who puts himself in that kind of losing position."

"True," the gnoll said. "Or he could come up with something you haven't thought of."

"It's possible," Jack said.

"And why is he here?" That would have to be me, I guessed, but I didn't say anything.

"Hostage," Jack said.

"I see," the gnoll said. "I wasn't aware that orc tribes practiced hostage exchange."

"They don't," I said, and she gave me a toothy, wintry smile that failed to reassure me.

"They haven't in the past," Jack said.

"You think you can start them?" She sounded disbelieving, and I didn't blame her.

"Probably not," Jack said, "but I had Griter dead to rights. I had to take something he valued, or he wouldn't have respected me."

"Does he respect you? That seems like a stretch." She peered at me. "And he values that?"

"He does," I said, a little stung by the question.

At least she responded to me. "Oh? How do you know?" From an orc, that would have been a challenge, but it sounded like Darz was just wondering.

"He's my Paw, I know him. Jack impressed him."

"Warmaster Jack," Jack said. "Or just Warmaster. I won't warn you again."

"Warmaster," I said. "Sorry," although I wasn't feeling very sorry. "It just seems ... weird. Like a made-up title."

"All titles are made-up," Jack said. "Although that one was made-up a very long time ago."

"But what are you going to do with him?" Darz asked.

"I'll think of something," Jack said. "Why? Do you have a suggestion?"

"Yes," Darz said. "Kill him." Other than a hint of impatience there wasn't much in her tone to suggest she considered that any more important than what robe to wear, or which sandals to slip on.

Well, it was a hell of a lot more important to me. I drew my sword, and a split second later it went flying as Jack's sword knocked it out of my grip. Hard. My hand was tingling from the blow as the half-orc twisted the blade, knocking me down. I'm not sure why the tip of the greatsword stopped at my throat but I was pretty glad it did, just then.

"Don't do that," Jack said calmly.

"I'm not afraid of dying," I said, "I just wanted to do it with my sword in my hand."

"So let him pick up his sharp metal stick, and then kill him," the gnoll said, still without any particular emphasis. "He's a distraction."

"I need a distraction now and then," Jack replied. "Although if he ever pulls a sword on me again ... that just might be his last distraction." The half-orc stared at me. "You understand that?"

"Yes. Warmaster." Jack was much better with a sword than I'd thought he could be.

"I know. I need an aide," Jack said. "You're it."

"What happened to Heam?" Darz asked almost instantly. "I thought he was your aide."

"Heam's more of a valet. I need an aide, somebody who knows something about campaigning, war, orders, military matters. Heam keeps my quarters neat. That's not the same thing as an aide who understands the needs of a warband. I could - in theory - delegate actual authority to an aide." He glanced at me. "Won't happen. But I need someone who could do it." Jack looked back at Darz. "I don't know why you're bothered, it's my problem."

"Your problems are my problems," the gnoll said. "Or so I've noticed."

"No, you're just part of my solution," Jack said. That meant something, I was sure, but I didn't know what.

"The solution would have been to take the Bloody Gash out. Put one of your pet lodgemasters - Iddik, maybe, in charge. Let them play buffer."

"Bleeding Slash," I said, irritated. "We're the Bleeding Slash. And I think we'd be pretty hard to take out."

"No," Jack said almost absently "Your clan has eighty-five warriors, seven of which don't count because they're injured or sick. Kett's warband had thirty-three of them, and they would have died immediately. You left twenty-two back at your camp, leaving yourself and Griter with twenty-three warriors, inclusive." We'd reached the forest, and Jack made a signal.

Orcs melted out of the trees - a lot more than twenty-three. A whole more than our thirty-three. I swallowed. And how the hell did he have our numbers right?

"You and Griter would have died in the next minute," Jack continued. "And the boars I have here are more than enough to take on twenty-one leaderless warriors and continue on to your camp." Jack turned that toothy grin on me. "Even if I weren't here. Do you still think that there'd be a single boar left when we were done?"

"Some of the orclets would fight," I said, but I knew that couldn't make a difference.

Jack just looked at me, and finally, I shook my head. "No."

"Griter figured that out almost instantly," Jack said approvingly. "I like boars who can see their mistakes; it's a rare thing in a chieftain."

"You let us live because you liked Paw?"

"No," Jack said. "I let you live because it is in my strategic interest to do so, despite an overwhelming momentary tactical advantage. And I'll tell you something else, little boar. If your Paw doesn't do what he agreed to, I can manufacture another overwhelming tactical advantage."

"I guess," I said.

"You might be using a few too many big words," Darz said. I'm not sure if she was trying to be insulting or not.

"I'm a hostage; I'll be dead."

"Maybe," Jack said. "And maybe if you make yourself useful as my aide, I won't bother."

Yeah, right, but I had to pretend to believe it.