Chapter 52: One on the way

Chapter 52: One on the way

Goblins raced to feed logs to the hungry fires that lit the huge camp. Orc warriors danced around the fires, hurling axes at each other and catching them, to the crowd’s delight. Every now and then a catch was missed, and someone lost an eye or a head. Also, to the crowd’s delight.

Unmarried females watched the preening warriors and talked among themselves. Size of biceps, number of kills last season, and capacity to keep a woman satisfied were all scored and tabulated. And of course, there was endless debate about what counted the most. Usually, it was the physical attributes that won out, but there was hot debate this season and a new trend developing.

A new warrior to the tribe had made impressive strides in gaining the respect of many of the other warriors, and his number of victories in the challenge ring was startling. The male warriors thought of it as "fate". The females thought otherwise. This prodigy spent more time listening to others, rather than talking of his own exploits. He noted who was skilled with weapons, who had an old war injury, who was fast, and who had a glass jaw. In the challenge ring he was quick to take advantage.

And he could drink. Drink long into the night and yet still be able to hold his own when later he retired to a hut for another type of battle. None other than the Great Chiefs daughter had laid a first claim to him, recognizing the traits that would make a good husband after he was trained. So, cunning and stamina were in this season. Some of the older women noticed, and nodded their heads. It was an interesting experiment. They'd have to watch as the next batch of pups grew up.

A blood curdling scream echoed into the night, and once again, many of the tribe glance at the large lodge at the south end of the camp. This was the lodge of Gruftcha Stonedotter. Made of huge logs sunk deep in the earth, with a roof of hides, it's walls were carved with nearly as many victory tales as the Chief's own lodge. Those walls shook now and then as a heavy body was thrown against them. Angry shouts, growls, cries of pain, and screams of the tortured could be heard at times. The Great Chief's daughter was training her new mate, and he was obviously putting up a bit of a fight. It had been all of a day, and still the sounds of fighting and the screams of pain came from the lodge. Many of the older males laughed and shook their heads. He'd learn. It didn't sound like he had many screams left.

Great Chief Stonechewer sat alone in his huge lodge. It had been stripped of most of the belongings to make room for the coming fight. He sat in his throne of carved ivory tusks and thought of how lucky he was to have such a powerful offspring. And how doomed he was. Even in his prime he didn't think he could have taken her. He was wiser now. The best tactician the tribes had seen in a generation. Many human armies had fallen when he commanded the tribes. But that would not matter tonight. Tonight, would be a fight to the death. Young vs. Old. The victor would lead the tribe. It had always been so.

But hell, usually not when the pup was only 19! He thought he'd have more time. She had grown up so fast! It seemed like only last season that he was teaching her to sharpen her axe. Tonight, she was teaching her chosen male a lesson in obedience. Having chosen a mate, she would then come to challenge him for his position.

The shamans whispered to each other behind him, tending the sacred brew. An ancient recipe that supposedly would give the new chief the blessing of the gods. Stonechewer had his doubts. It mostly made his skin tingle and his teeth ache. But again, it was traditional.

One last scream rose into the night, before cutting off, and silence came from the other lodge. The revelers deserted the center of camp as a lone figure walked confidently to the chief’s lodge with axe in hand.

Great Chief Stonechewer growled and rose to greet his challenger. "So be it, daughter, let our fight be one for the shamans to speak of for years to come. Kill me, or surely, I will kill you!"

The Great Chief shrugged and got his own mug. If Darkest Death was drinking this foul-tasting stuff, he'd at least join him for one. He actually liked the human beer that Darkest Death brought to the tribe much better. "And you have convinced my daughter of this?"

"Ha, yeah, it took a bit. She nearly killed me. Took a lot to finally put her down. But after our little scrap this morning she's on board with the plan."

Stonechewer's eyes narrowed. "This morning? Then what the hell has been going on all day?"

Darkdeath54 actually looked a bit embarrassed. "Well, ah, after we get into a fight, she likes to make up for a bit. We sort of got carried away and broke all the furniture, and maybe a couple of walls. Sorry about the noise. She's a screamer that one, especially when she...."

The Chief held up his hands. "Don't need the details. Please, spare an old orc the tale of how you seduced his poor innocent daughter." Even the shamans laughed at that one.

"You got it, Grandpa."

"Grandpa?!"

Leaning back and drinking down the last of the sacred brew, Darkdeath54 smirked a bit as he passed on a message from his new wife. "Yeah, Gruftcha told me to mention to you that she's pregnant. One on the way already. Come spring you can help babysit."

Now it was the Chiefs turn to laugh hard. "Oh really, "one on the way’? You have a lot more to learn about being an orc. Our women never have less than three pups at a time. Sometimes six. We need that many. I remember fondly how Gruftcha ate one of her brothers when she was three and the other two decided to become shamans! "

The mighty warrior, Darkest Death, looked a bit pale. "Six? Oh shit, I need another drink."