Part 2:3

He jumped to his feet. His heart raced, and adrenaline flowed into his muscles. “Run!”

Ben grabbed him by the shoulders. “Wait. It’s okay.”

But Seth was too frighted to hear and shoved the bigger boy out of the way. They jostled and, in his panic, he swung wildly hitting Ben in the face. The next thing he knew he was face first in the dirt, the wind knocked from his lungs, and his arm was painfully twisted behind his back. “Help!” he gasped. “Someone, help!”

“Shut up you idiot,” Ben hissed, pressing his knee into Seth’s Back. “It’s okay, he’s my friend.”

Seth tilted his head and looked up; his eyes bulged. The green monster was standing over them, its expression curious—almost human.

“Relax, he won’t hurt you,” Ben said, releasing his hold and helping Seth to his feet.

Seth pushed Ben away. “This is your friend?” he asked, trembling as the adrenaline left his body. Amazement started to replace his fear as he stared at the monster. “He must be at least seven feet tall.”

“Yeah. Don’t worry,” Ben said, rubbing at his cheek, “I was much the same as you when I first met him. He’s harmless enough.”

“What do you mean, enough?”

“Well, I’ve seen what he does to people he don’t like,” Ben said, stepping past Tugul and patting him on the arm. “I tell you; I’d much rather be his friend,” he continued saying, as he headed for the campfire. “He’s a great cook too. Say hello Tugul.”

Tugul looked at Seth. His mouth worked upwards at the corners, testing different positions before settling on a half-crooked slant that may have been considered a smile. Then in a deep guttural voice he said: “Hello, Tugul.”

Ben laughed. “No Tugul. Say hello to Seth.”

Tugul’s mouth jittered up and down, and Seth thought that his tusks must make it hard to speak. “Hello, Seth.” He attempted another smile.

“You hungry?” asked Ben.

A growl echoed in Seth’s stomach; he was sure it was trying to eat itself.

“Come grab some before he eats it all,” Ben said, thumbing toward Tugul.

Seth sat on the end of a log near the campfire that was used as a bench. Ben handed him a slice of steaming meat on a length of tree bark that had been carved into a plate.

“Careful, it’s hot.”

Seth couldn’t wait. He snatched it up and shoved it into his mouth, breathing around the meat as he chewed, trying to cool it down. He swallowed and licked the juices from his fingers, savouring the taste.

Ben grinned. “Hungry huh? Well save some for Tugul, he gets really angry when there’s no food.”

He paused licking his fingers and looked at the green giant. Its amber eyes gleamed as it watched him. Seth offered an awkward smile, then turned to Ben. “What is it?” He asked, nodding in Tugul’s direction.

Ben stopped carving slices of meat and turned to look at Tugul. “He’s an orc. I think.” He scratched his head. “I read about them once in my father’s library.”

“Your father had a library?”

“Yeah. What of it?” Ben asked, scowling.

“Well, you don’t look like the type to have a library.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Seth quickly shoved another piece into his mouth. “Nothing,” he said, chewing and looking away. “Where did you find it?”

“I didn’t find it, well not exactly.” The scowl on Ben’s face dissolved into a smile. “I was at the river’s edge throwing rocks into the water when I lobbed one downstream. I tried to throw it really far, ‘cept my aim was bad, and it landed in a bush. I heard a noise and walked toward it. Then Tugul came out and I freaked. Then I fell in the river.”

Tugul stood and patted him on the head with a giant hand. Seth couldn’t help but laugh; the orc’s fingers were like thick, green sausages, and each time he patted, Ben cringed and smiled awkwardly.

“If it wasn’t for him, I’d have drowned. They don’t call it the Widow’s Tears for nothing,” he said, and sliced off a strip of meat and sat down. “So what’s your story?”

Seth put his plate down and looked away, his appetite suddenly disappearing. “Not much to tell really,” he said quietly.

“Come on, you must be from somewhere. I bet you’re a farmer’s son whose runaway, right. Sick of dirt under your fingernails?” Ben asked with a sneer.

“What would you know?” Seth said, spitting the words out.

They sat in silence for several minutes. Both staring at the fire as it popped and crackled, sending glowing embers and puffs of smoke into the air.

It was Ben who broke the silence: “You said you were looking for someone. Maybe we can help?” He said, keeping his eyes on the fire.

Seth’s eyes passed from Ben to Tugul. The orc was watching him intently and he couldn’t look at those unfamiliar eyes for long; they were unnerving.

“I don’t need help. I just need to get back to the road.” He stood and walked to the edge of the camp. Picked up a rock and threw it into the forest.

After a few moments Ben joined him and they stood in silence, staring into the forest.

“It’s getting late,” Ben said, glancing at Seth. “Too dangerous to be out in the woods after dark. You can sleep here tonight. I’ll take you to the road in the morning.”

Seth bent down and picked up another rock. He felt its rough surface with his thumb, then threw it into the forest.

Ben sighed and walked back to the camp.

The next morning Seth woke to the sound of his name. He groaned: “Stop yelling.”

Ben was crouched beside him and holding a short spear. “I’m not yelling, but if you don’t get up, we’re gonna leave you here!”

Seth shot up and looked around the camp. Everything had been cleared away; the fire had been smothered with dirt, and the hide tent had been rolled and packed away. Tugul was standing anxiously at the edge of the camp. His enormous pack, with pots and pans and other odd implements hanging from it, was slung over one muscled shoulder, and the largest sword Seth had ever seen was hanging from the other. The orc glanced toward him, its broad, sloping brow creased, before disappearing into the forest.

“What’s going on?”

“Tugul says they’re on the move. Come, if we don’t go now, we’ll lose them.”

“What–who’s on the move. What about the road?”

“It’s that way,” Ben said pointing, then jogged after Tugul.

“Wait!” Seth looked in the direction Ben had pointed but couldn’t see beyond the high thicket. He hesitated, then snatched up his pack and ran to catch up.

They hurried through the dense undergrowth; twigs and thin branches whipped at their faces and caught on their clothes. After several minutes had passed Ben slowed and his footsteps became deliberate and careful. Ahead Tugul had stopped and was sniffing the air, his pack discarded and his sword in hand.

“What’s happening…”

Ben turned and hissed, holding his finger against his lips and motioning for him to get low.

He did as he was told and moved closer, whispering: “What’s happening?”

Ben pointed towards Tugul and pressed his finger against his lips again.

Seth frowned and watched as Tugul moved further into the undergrowth, barely disturbing the leaves as he went. Ben followed, staying low.

Are they hunting again? Seth wondered. Having seen Tugul devour the deer the previous night, he wasn’t surprised. He was amazed at how much the orc could eat.

He crept along behind as quietly as he could. Concentrating on where he was placing his feet and trying not to make any noise. All those times playing hide-and-go-seek with Lucas was good for something it seemed. He hadn’t realised that Ben had stopped and bumped into him.

“Shh!” Ben hissed, and Tugul’s amber eyes flared with a feralness that sent goose pimples racing over Seth’s skin.

Ben signalled that he should look through the bushes and he moved closer, parting the branches and peering through the gap. It was another camp, although much larger than theirs. Several armed men, wearing hoods, were gathered around a smouldering campfire, and a few more were rolling up canvas tents. On the far side of the camp a man dressed in a plain cloak with the hood up was mounting a black horse. He swung his leg over the saddle and pulled on the reigns, turning the horse around and revealing his face. Shocked, Seth scurried backwards and pushed himself flat against a tree. Brack!