Rowan rolled to the side just as Garo'tan's axe came crashing down. It embedded itself in the ground all the way to the handle where he'd been standing. Osiris stumbled backward, distancing himself from the action.
"First blood?" Rowan questioned, giving his opponent a skeptical glare.
"First blood. First limb. No difference." Garo'tan roared gleefully as he came in for another forceful strike.
Rowan pulled his blade from the dirt and dodged again.
The orc prince was strong—stronger than him by far, but he forecasted his attacks with an excessive wind up, making them easy to avoid. At least as easy as a whirling axe could be to avoid.
There was little more that brute force to his strategy. And he became increasingly aggravated as Rowan continued to deflect or duck around his strikes. Not exactly the entertainment I'd been hoping for, Rowan thought. But seeing this brute huffing from exhaustion as he wasted energy with overzealous swings did brighten his mood.
Unfortunately, Garo'tan's annoyance quickly shifted to anger. And with anger came unpredictability. Typical orc. I need to end this now, before it gets any more out of hand.
Rowan parried an overhead strike into the ground, then spun inside the orc prince's guard and brought the sword to his throat.
They stood face-to-face, the sharp of his blade a hair's width from his neck. He'd been a little clumsy. This was almost too close for comfort. I can just picture it now... standing up at the gallows with my fellow prisoners. 'How did I get here? Well, funny story. I accidentally slit the throat of the future orc warlord. So worth it though.'
Rowan smirked, and Garo'tan gave a slight nod of approval. Perfect. And no blood even nee—
The orc exhaled sharply, releasing a foul odor directly into Rowan's open mouth. He gagged. Then a green forehead cracked against his face.
He stumbled backward and fell onto his ass, dropping his sword. He tasted the tang of iron as his nose drained blood over his lips and onto his brand new white uniform.
Garo'tan laughed. "First blood!"
Osiris was at Rowan's side, about to pick up the fallen sword to continue the fight on his behalf. Rowan gripped his friend's shoulder, calming the tension. There's more than one way to gain an ally. Let it be.
"Well fought, Garo'tan Bloodfist," Rowan said, still on the ground. "You bested me. Truly a fierce warrior."
The orc reached out a hand and hauled him to his feet. "Yes. But you fight well. You will teach me, yes? To move as the wind like this?"
Rowan pulled a kerchief from his pocket and held it to his nose as he examined the brute. There was nothing wind-like about him, but this was an opportunity.
He nodded, though the idea of spending more time than necessary with the thick-skulled orc and his friends made him cringe inwardly. "Of course, Prince Garo'tan."
"Call me Garo," he replied.
It had cost a possibly broken nose, but despite Rowan's best efforts, it seemed he'd made a favorable impression with the orc heir after all.
My father would be thrilled...
Garo sat beside him on the log, allowing his companions to return to their games without him. His weight cracked the log, but it held as he warmed his hands over the fire.
"So you want to squish the little bugs," he said. "I will do this for you."
"The Monsters?" Rowan asked. Squish wasn't quite the term I had in mind.
Osiris perked up after his initial annoyance at the orc's presence on their side of the fire.
"But you won the fight," Osiris said. "Technically... You said you wanted to ignore them."
Garo shifted in closer so he could avoid the others hearing his words. "We both know you bested me, Rowan Regicast." An unexpected admission... He leaned back and stretched his arms, raising his voice for his friends to hear. "Besides, you didn't give me enough of a workout. I need something else to crush."
All about the appearances. Still, Rowan hadn't expected even that small level of humility from the orc, even if he wasn't willing to show it publicly. I understand the need to keep up appearance too, Garo. More than you know.
Even as the 'surplus prince,' he had a role to fill, a family legacy to maintain. Clearly, what he'd done with the Monster Relocation Squad hadn't been enough to impress his father. He wanted a son who was more fierce, more strong-willed, not broken and sentimental—no matter how skilled with a sword. I'll never live up to those expectations, especially with Uthen setting the precedent as first son and heir. But he was still expected to try.
Uthen was a skilled warrior and already a quest giver beyond the Gates at age eighteen—an impressive accomplishment, even for someone granted the luxuries he was. He'd earned the Legendary two-handed sword Resplendent, not only by inheritance, but as a gift from the renowned blacks of Steelmount Forge. The old blade had been reforged and imbued with Heroic Energy for the first time in its history, giving it incredible bonuses and a flame-like red aura.
Uthen was the perfect heir and namesake to their father.
Meanwhile, Rowan sniveled in a corner because a bunny got hurt and had to suppress guilt as the fodder down south were caged and relocated. Utterly pathetic.
"We'll put those Monsters in their place," Rowan finally said.
"What is your plan?" Garo asked.
Rowan looked to Osiris, knowing he already had a scheme working through his cunning brain.
The cook's son simply nodded and remained silent, allowing Rowan to feign leadership in the presence of the warlord's heir.
Always keeping up appearances. Thank you, Osiris.
"I'm still forging the details," Rowan said as he placed a hand on the orc's shoulder. "But rest assured, Garo. I'll give you something to crush."
Garo grinned and stood. "I think I will enjoy being classmates with the surplus prince after all. My fists will be ready." He rejoined his friends and their meaningless competitions.
"What are you thinking?" Rowan asked Osiris once he was confident the others were too consumed in their games to hear.
Osiris rubbed his chin, like he always did when he was pretending he didn't already have an idea brewing. "We need something that will make them think twice about ever trying something again. Not just a prank. True fear."
"I know you've got a plan. Let's hear it."
"Where's the excitement in that?" Osiris winked.
Rowan cast him an annoyed glare. This was no time for games. If they were actually going to do this, they needed to let them know this class of Humanoids wasn't going to put with any mischief from the Monsters. That's what his brother would do.
They needed to set expectations early and strong. And before I lose my confidence in this decision altogether.
"Okay, okay. Calm your royal panties," Osiris said. He placed a hand on Rowan's shoulder and pulled him in close. "What I have planned, they'll never see coming. They might even run back to whatever holes they live in and cry to their mommies for days." He paused. "They... do have mothers, right?"
Rowan tensed. The echoes of the Monsters crying for help and mercy around him as soldiers shoved them into cages clawed through his mind. Mothers and fathers. Children.
He forced a smile.
"I like the sound of that."
<<AUTHOR'S NOTE>>
Rowan: Expert friend-maker.
This is usually how I make friends too. Anyone else? No? Just me then… Womp.
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