The Soul Griever's Tale
Heart of Fear
From Soulgriever’s Diary
Kingfisher Moon
1st Day Waning
In contrast, Battlelord was tall and proud. He stood just under nine hands tall, his eyes strong and purple, and his skin and warts a healthy brown. His kinship to his father the Clanlord was evident in his raven black hair, mirrored in the ebony darkness or his razor sharp talons. When Clanlord dies, as I expect he will in harsh cold of the next winter, Battlelord will become the new Clanlord, and I, his son, the new Battlelord.
In company with all other Ogres, as humans call us, I have a round, ugly face. My nose is short and pig like, my ears large and pointed. My forehead is sloped at a sheer angle, and my hair matted and greasy. We dress in skins taken from the animals of the mountains, the goat, human and such like. We do not wash, in fact washing is considered an insult to Clanlord, so we all bear the stench of our own waste. In contrast, though, I am of a lighter colouring. My skin is soft and cream-coloured, and my warts almost non-existent. I have talons, but unlike other Kuniaka, I can draw them back inside my fingers. Most unusually, my hair is brown, and my teeth and eyes white, the latter with black pupils and a brown iris.
It wasn't just my rather unusual appearance, or the fact that my father was Battlelord, second only to the great Clanlord himself, but something much more sinister and disturbing that made my life as part of the Demontooth Clan almost impossible. It was at the important age of sixteen when I first discovered the extent of my difference to the other Kuniaka of my Clan, for that was the day when the raiding party returned from the human town of Shu-Katsu with the first ever group of human slaves. For normally any of the puny humans who gain entrance to our mountainous valley do so only as a dead human in another sack of meat for the midday meal-pot.
I remember the day clearly, for at the time I was sat near my father as he talked with the Clanlord. I cannot remember the exact words, and translating the ones I do remember into the language of men produces a very imprecise meaning, for the chant of the Kuniaka owes as much to tune, tone and gesture than it does to words. The meanings that do translate into the human tongue are almost beautiful. The conversation, as I remember it, went as follows:
“Yes my Battlelord, tell the boy you must,
despite what you say, it's only fair and just,” said the Clanlord.
- “I still say no, but as you command,
consider the task in hand.” Battlelord replied
“I trust do will say it in such a way,
that he will hate all humans beyond today?”
“Is there another way?”
- “Not for you and I,
until all humans die,”
“We can but try.”
“So shall it be.
Who is that approaching me?”
+ “It is Fearspreader and his spoils returning,
both for home and comfort yearning.” I interrupted.
- “Yes my son it is the raid,
and see the fortune they have made!”
“Its time your son saw the spoils of war,
Show him how it was for you before!”
“A pleasure lord, for us to feel,
as before us their women kneel.
Come Soulcliever, my son and see,
how your mother became one with me!”
My father then lead me by the shoulder towards the shed where Fearspreader and the men of this raiding band where herding all the women and young girls taken from the horde of slaves. The men where taken to the kitchens to be prepared for the pot.
As we walked, Battlelord explained to me how I was conceived during a raid on Shu-Katsu sixteen years ago. He laughed, a deep, hideous, nerve-tingling laugh, when he said that she screamed the whole time that he was with her. He went on to tell me of how the slaves escaped one night, fleeing through the mountains pursued to the raid. Three kin where lost in the battle that followed on the outskirts of the human town. Later the raid found me left at the base of the valley to die after my birth. Years later I learned that I was dumped by a group of knights who refused to even permit me to stay live in their town. They returned after abandoning me to publicly run a sword through my mother for her Blasphemous Acts. Because my father was Battlelord, he explained, I was taken into the ogre clan and raised as one of his own, and I must always act like the Kuniak I am, or be ridiculed and slain by my own kin.
By this time, we had reached the slave hut. From inside came the sounds of Fearspreader making free with one of the younger ones, who split the air around us with an occasional scream. Without further comment, Battlelord pushed his way inside the hut to join his brother and get his share. Standing outside, I moved to follow him. I listened to the screams of the girl child, and the sound of other human females crying, and heard the sound of my father taking another of the small girl-children to be his pleasure for the next few minutes. From the deep recesses of my mind I could also hear another sound, a soft, quiet, persistent voice, saying “No this is wrong, so wrong.” over and over again. I turned from the doorway as Battlelord shouted for me to join him, and ran, ran to the caves where I could be alone to come to terms with this new, alien feeling. A feeling that, months later, Furui Kamidan would tell me was my conscience.
Hours passed in silent solitude before by confused contemplation was interrupted. A shadow fell across the entrance to the cave, followed by the shuffling sound of leather-clad feet kicking rocks. Knife at the ready, I quietly approached the unknown intruder. As I neared, I began to make out the appearance of the human. About six hands high, it was dressed in polished metallic armour that covered its body from its head to its feet. Across the armour was draped a mantle of some sort, split into areas of blue and green, with a bright red semicircle on front and back. In one hand it held a shield, of the same design, with a crown meshed in green vines covering one corner. In the other it held a sharp, deadly sword. It was a human knight, a Seisan, a member of a holy militant order with a crusade to cleanse their world of the Kuniaka such as myself. Keeping to the shadows, I stooped to pick up a hand-sized boulder. Taking aim carefully, I let the stone fly. It struck the Seisan unconscious, knocking him to the floor of the cave.
As the human lay there, I pulled off its polished helm. Inside was the face of a young boy, no more than a mere 14 years old in human terms, with curling, golden hair covering his small head. His eyelids flickered for a second, a glimpse of eyes green and hard. For a while I stood silently, debating what to do with him, then I scooped him up, armour and all, and headed out of the cave. Outside I could see our village spread across the valley floor, on either bank of the stream that flows out of the mountains to become the Kawi-koku. Alongside the stream ran the road - well more of a path - the only way into and out of the valley. The huts, rough affairs of tree trunks, mud and straw, surrounded Clanlord's hut and the central roast-fire, where scattered in a random order as if cast down by some huge giant mad planner. Smoke from the humans cooking over the roast-fire and from the open windows drifted the smoke of the hut fires and the noise of Aki-Kuniaka, She-ogres preparing the breads for the midday meal.
Carrying the Seisan over one shoulder, his sword hanging conspicuously from my leather belt, I passed the first hut of the village. As if he had been waiting for me to return, Heartrender spotted me and was soon at me side. Heartrender is my cousin, son of uncle Fearspreader, and from early childhood was my best and only friend. Both Heartrender and his father share a similar appearance to Battlelord, except that both have hair that is more green than black. Fearspreader stood just under nine hands tall and Heartrender just over eight. He had a sneer on his face, and was about to say something, when he spotted the armoured human I was carrying. His mouth froze in mid-word, his face full of curiosity and fear. I nodded to him, and he fell in behind me as we continued on our way towards Clanlord's hut. As we walked, a crowd gathered behind us, for never before had a human the nerve to enter our valley, with considerable coercion from the warriors of the raid. By the time I reached the hut, the whole of the clan where following me.
Outside the hut Clanlord and Battlelord waited for me, smiling encouragingly as I lowered the Seisan to the ground.
“Well done Soulcliever, he still breaths,
Fun we shall have before life he leaves,
Then in morning we shall slay his town,
yes, come sun rise we are going down,
To sack the town.” Clanlord praised.
- “My son to shall join the raid,
let him prove he's not afraid,
yet not a raid but more we need,
so I say that I shall lead.” added my father
“Then chose your men for this war,
Take Fearspreader, Heartrender and more,
make this town feel our dread,
and bring to me its rulers head.”
The meeting broke up then, Fearspreader taking the Seisan to question him. Battlelord and Clanlord went again to make use of the slave hut, but I again declined the offer, managing to avoid accompanying them. That night I slept but not at all, the thought of the raid the next day haunting me in many forms. On his mat at the far side of the hut, Heartrender slept silently and deeply.
Stricken Conscience
2nd Day Waning
I arose with the sun, and made my preparations as if I where eager for the killing. Deep inside me, I could hear the voice that had taunted me outside the slave hut, telling me not to go. This time, though, I got the better of it, and followed the rest of the clan out of our mountainous valley that the humans call Kuniaka-Tani.
The journey down out of the valley was short, and rather pleasant. We followed the path beside the river, threading its way across the valley floor. We passed my private trail to the high caves, and soon reached the lower valley where shrubs and flowers grow in the more fertile soil. Summer was in full swing and the prospects for war and feast there good. We soon neared the small tower on the outskirts of the town, from which the humans keep a continual watch on our valley. Cautiously, Battlelord approached it while Fearspreader waited with us, ready to strike if needed. The tower was built of a seamless, polished black stone, without any windows, and one wooden door. As he neared, we could see Battlelord’s reflection on the stone. A few moments later my father returned, grinning. As we continued along the path past the tower, he told us that, for the first time in nearly 200 years, it was completely deserted. It dawns on me now as I write this, that I was the only one amongst us to notice the absence as significant, as a warning as to what was going to happen in the months to come.
Battlelord lead us into the town as he bellowed his orders to use. As he screamed, human women and children fled the streets with cries of panic, barricading themselves inside their houses of stone. No knights rode forth to challenge us, no soldiers to fight with us, no farmers with pitchforks to block our advance.
"No one fights with us this day,
We are free, so we can play." Battlelord called out in glee,
"Let us hunt humans for sport,
Capture, kill, rape, as you have been taught.
Take what you wish to keep,
And give the rest the endless sleep."
We separated, spreading throughout the town with our weapons drawn. I had the fine sword of the Seisan, while my kin had crude wooden clubs and large boulders. I headed for a great, white marble building, hoping for plunder along with the sport. Passing under a huge arch with unreadable words engraved into it, I entered a towering room the walls of which where covered in shelves from floor to ceiling. Each shelf was packed with leather bound books, of a myriad of colours. Blue books stood next to green books, while Red books and black books where on the shelves below. In the ceiling was set a glorious window of multicoloured glass, showing a strange human with a circle and a star above his head. The light from the window gave the room a spectral, almost haunted feel.
As I turned around and around, staring in wonder at the marvels of this human building. I heard a slight gasp from an alcove towards the back of the room. Investigating, I found, standing with her back to a wooden door, a fair human lady, clutching a fragile eating knife in her delicate, manicured hands. She was short, between four and five hands tall, dressed in a shimmering silky robe of dull orange. Her hair was a soft, golden brown, held at the back by a strip of silk the same colour as her robes. Delicate jewellery of gold and ruby hung from the lobes of each of her ears. From behind her drifted the frightened cries of human children, hiding behind the door. Then from outside came the sounds of people dying - slowly and painfully. The little woman in front of me started threatening with her knife, her face a mixture of grim determination and hopeless fear. In her eyes, so deeply blue and brimming with tears, I could see my reflection, see myself menacing a frightened, helpless woman, threatening her with the Seisan’s sharp, blood stained sword. Then the determination faded from her face and her knife dropped to the floor with a clatter, leaving nothing in her hands but a small copper ring on the middle finger of one hand. Booming footsteps announced the arrival of another ogre in the room. As he shouted, my fathers voice echoed around the room.
“Yes, son, you make her scream,
make her love you as a dream,
Use her,
Abuse her!”
As I hesitated, he must have heard the children in the room beyond, for he smiles and began to move towards her;
“Yes, Soulcliever, you the woman take,
and I the young ones will rape!”
He shouted and burst into a roaring, hideous laugh. Even through the noise he was making, I still heard the little woman’s cry of fear as she realised my father’s intent.
Something about the woman caught onto the shard of humanity inside of me, and dragged it, kicking and screaming, to the surface. The whisper that was my newfound conscience became a fully-fledged shout, drowning out my fathers the insane laughter. Mustering every ounce of my strength from the years I spend chopping the firewood, every skill of my lifetime of training in the art of war, and from every lesson that the Battlelord himself had taught me, all these combined into that one fatal blow. Perhaps the sword of the Seisan was enchanted in some way, perhaps the source of which the Kamidani preach favoured me or more likely, I was just lucky. For that one blow wiped the smile from my fathers face. It wiped away his face as the sword passed cleanly from one side of his thick neck to the other, and his severed head tumbled slowly to the ground, leaving me a shocked and surprised as I believe he must have been.
The silence that ensued startled me; I hadn't realised how much his barbaric laughing had nauseated me. I stood like a statue staring at the toppling corpse for a good few minutes and only dimly hard the sound of my sword hitting the floor.
The little woman tugging urgently on my now empty hand broke my paralysis. I turned towards her. The look of admiration and love on her face transcended anything I had ever seen before, and a suspect that a beast such as myself will never see its like again. The woman again pulled on my hand, pointing at the door that she had guarded but moments before.
“Deguchimasu hayai tsuku ni-ko”, she said.
Not understanding, I looked at her, at the blood stained sword lying on the white marble floor, at the body of my dead father, then at her again.
“Okuru”, she said urgently.
She started to drag me towards the door. I followed her, witlessly, and ducked to step through the door after she opened it and stepped through. The two girl-children beyond screamed when I appeared, but soon calmed when the little woman spoke to them. She barred the door behind her, and gestured for us all to follow her. Half bent I trailed along a series of corridors to another door.
"Ishara, Sashana, Anna.", she called over her shoulder as she waved her hand in the air.
I looked at her, confused, and grunted. She stopped and turned.
"Ishara." She said as she pointed at herself.
"Darli." She continued as she pointed at the taller child.
"Anna." She added as she pointed at the younger.
-"Soulcliever ad Battlelord." I replied, pointing at myself.
Now she looked confused, she stuttered over the words as she tried to repeat them. She shook her head before muttering "Ogre" and turning away.
As we stepped outside, we could hear the shouts of others of my clan finding the body of Battlelord. We made haste through the now deserted town, running wildly from one street to another. Soon came the sound of the clan not far behind us. Stopping for only a moment, I swept the two children from the ground and settled one upon each shoulder. Then I picked up the Ishara and, holding her in the cradle of my arms, and ran at full pace towards the forest she was pointing to. “Komori”, she whispered as I ran.
Forests are unnatural to ogres, but I kept running until the sounds of the clan behind us had long ceased. Following what seemed to be natural paths, I headed deeper into this great expanse of living green and brown. After some time, I stopped in a small clearing many strides from the town. Carefully I settled Ishara to the ground, and lowered Darli and Anna from my high shoulders (Even for the Kuniaka I am tall, nearing 10 hands in height). They settled into a leaf filled hollow in the ground, and I covered them from neck to toe in a blanket of forest ferns. They where asleep within moments, so I too settled with my back against a stout tree to rest from my long run.
I did not intent do but for a while, I slept, sitting in the quiet seclusion of the forest. When I awoke again, it was dark, and the forest was alive with the sound of its inhabitants doing whatever the inhabitants of a forest do. In the distance, I heard a pack of noisy creatures attacking some other poor creature, which was soon overcome by the aggressors as they made a meal of it. Listening to the beasts tear away at their meal began to make me feel hungry also. They soon finished and moved away into the densely packed trees to find more food. I waited a while, to be sure that they would not be coming back, then got up and checked my adopted human family. Everything around was safe and quiet and they where still sleeping soundly. Resolutely I crept into the undergrowth, looking for the food we too needed to eat. Beyond the clearing I found a solid piece of wood, almost a natural club. Nesting the club in one hand, I followed an animal trail winding through the trees.
For hours I walked and prowled along the trails of the forest, to no avail. As I have said, Kuniaka know little of the forest and I less than most. In fact, the beasts of the woods always seemed one step ahead of me laughing and taunting as I tried to catch them. As light began to filter through the trees, I started to make my way back to the clearing (an giant sided trail through a forest is pretty easy to follow - maybe why I didn't catch anything?).
I was almost back when a familiar scream ripped through the trees from the clearing. Accelerating from a casual trot to a full speed sprint in under a second, I literally crashed through the dense vegetation separating myself and the humans, ignoring the path completely. In the glade, I found as I bowled in, where a group of lightly armoured men wearing greens and browns - the colours of the forest. They where searching Ishara's bloody body, while another of them, who had only four fingers, wiped the blade of a dagger on the grass to clean off the blood. At the sight of me, the men, all two and twenty of them, backed off rapidly towards their running beasts. Before I could react, they where upon the backs of the beasts and gone, fleeing into the forest. As they went, they chanted a name, a human name, Chian Ishida.
To stunned to attempt to follow, I looked in vain for life among the humans, but as I had suspected, they where all dead, all with ragged, scarlet holes in their throats. These where humans that I had saved from monsters such as myself, only to die at the hands of other humans, and humans call themselves the civilised race! All that these barbaric humans had left behind with the three bleeding corpses was a cheap, copper ring on Ishara’s finger, far to small to fit on any finger of mine.
I arranged the bodies in the hollow, and covered them with rocks to form a cairn after the fashion of ogre burials. The ring I kept, on a leather thong around my neck. Then, lost and disheartened, I travelled deeper into the forest, Vowing that someday, somehow, I would find a four fingered man with the name of Chian and do to him as he did to the little woman and the poor defenceless children.
The Green Forest
10th Day Waning
For days and days without number I travelled through the cursed forest, eating only the fruit and nuts of the trees, having neither the skill to catch a beast, nor the heart to skin, cook and eat it. Life was beginning to grow weary when I heard the sound of horns blowing in the distance, followed by the barking of hounds and thundering hoof-beats of many human riding beasts. I stopped, waiting for the party to pass into the distance, but the sounds remained, and maybe where getting louder. Then a deer burst out of the trees, raced across the clearing and vanished into more undergrowth on the far side, without even pausing to look at me. The deer was soon followed by a pack of snarling, barking hounds.
The dogs skidded to a stop as soon as they saw me, where growls reduced to yelps of puzzlement and fear. Behind the dogs, the human riding beasts arrived, with an explosion of hoof beats and shouting. Like their canine friends, the men stopped, looking upon me with fear. One of them, a tall, brown haired man wearing a green cloak edged with gold over his leather beaches and hardened leather breast plate, slid from his beasts back and slowly drew his sword from a silver gilded scabbard. Hesitantly, he stepped closer towards me.
“Deguchi watashi ysuchi warui hanotoko”, he said, in the harsh, tuneless language of Gokuni.
The words sounded imposing but unsure, seeming to tell me to go away despite the fact that I couldn't understand them. He watched me intently; his misty green eyes almost a weapon of destruction. The other men, inspired by their leader's courage, also dropped from their perches and moving to form a circle around their lord and me.
I had nothing that I could use as a weapon, in fact all I had was a man-hide tunic and belt, and Ishara’s copper ring, but still this group of humans would be no match for my strength if I where to break through them. The leader moved another step towards me, his men urging him on with impatient noises and encouragement. He tightened his grip on the sword, bringing his left hand up to grip the pommel. Not having a sword of my own, I clenched my great fists, cracking the dried blood that still stained them from when I had buried the mutilated bodies of my short-lived family. In the eyes of the human leader I could see the same mixture of bravo and fear that Ishara had shown when I first came upon her in the marble building, a combination of honour to face me in battle, and regret that he was going to die.
Slowly my arms dropped back to my sides, fists relaxing and unclenching. If I killed these men, which I must surely do if I wished to escape alive, then I might as well have killed Ishara and the children. Certainly, I would be no better than Chian Ishida and his Tonaku, the bandit men who did kill them. As the lord advanced another step towards me, now shaking in anxious fear, I did what no ogre had ever done before, what no Kuniak would ever consider doing, I dropped to my knees before him and bowed my head in surrender.
I waited, but the expected blow to my neck never arrived. Puzzled, I looked up to see that the leader's face was equally as puzzled.
“Lord of men, slay me,
For I cannot slay thee!”
I said to him in desperation, for now I could see no way out of the situation without death to either the humans or me. The lord must have understood me, for he stepped back in surprise, and turned to say something to his men, apparently a translation. Most of the men, judging from there shouts and jeers, where all for striking me down at once, but their leader stopped them, saying something to them to calm them down. Later he taught me that he said that true men show compassion to all creatures, even those who are unpleasant to look upon and who are normally monstrous by nature. He turned back to me and pointed at him self.
"Danku Brian Teramoto.” He said, repeating himself several times before pointed at me.
-“Soulcliever ab Battlelord.” I replied as I pointed at myself - I knew his bit of human ritual!
It was obvious from his expression that he, like Ishara before him, found no understanding from my name. From his bearing and honour, I guessed that he must be some sort of lord among men, such as Clanlord and Battlelord are lords among the Kuniaka.
Danku Brian then signalled to some of his men, who went to the riding beasts. They returned leading one of the creatures and lengths of thick rope. Approaching cautiously, they used the rope to bind my hands together, and then using a longer piece tied me to the back of their steed. Danku Brian climbed upon the back of the beast to which I was tied, and made a gesture of some sort to the rest of the men. They too mounted their own beasts, and then rode off along one of the forest tails. Their leader followed, pulling me behind him.
10th Day Waning
We emerged from the forest onto the crest of a series of low rolling hills in the twilight of early evening. Around us lay a patchwork of green and gold, mismatched fields of rippling corn and grazing land for the many herds of giant, lumbering cattle. Occasionally speckles of red and brown spoilt the quilting, where the homes of the humans and their beasts stood among the rippling grasses. Cutting across the fields like a great streak of lightning splitting the sky, a grey road zigzagged from the base of the hill upon which we where stood to a tall, black tower outlined by the sunset in the distance.
We rested for a while, then Danku Brian began to lead us down the hill towards the road, his men, their mounts, and I glad to have left the forest behind. I looked back at it, as the crest of the hill began to hide it, the resting-place of my only hope of understanding their human world, the heart of the nightmare that was now my life. With one last act of defiance, the forest answered me, as the voices of a hundred wolves raised in one concerted howl that chilled me to the soul, so recently gained. The other beasts where similarly frightened, the dogs whined as if in pain, and the Danku Brian's mount was startled, for it moved down towards the road with a spurt of additional speed that took me by surprise. Facing backwards, the jerk upon the rope pulled my off my feet. I hit the ground with some force, my back striking upon a rock. The beast continued to drag me behind it for a few seconds, and then the rope snapped.
Danku Brain stopped the beast further down the slope, and he turned back to look as I slowly climbed back to my feet. His men had stopped too, and I heard the rasp of metal upon metal as numerous swords where freed from their scabbards. I walked down towards the Leader, as several of his men moved in beside him. Several hands from Danku Brian's beast I stopped and waited. They watched me for a while, and then their leader started to move cautiously down the hill, although his men didn't followed. I stayed behind him, matching his mounts progress pace for pace. With more confidence, he picked up more speed, and still I followed him. Behind me I could hear his men moving along behind us, a little closer than they had before the rope snapped.
We travelled along the road, passing occasional houses, until the evening gave way to night and darkness took away the road below us. The men found shelter in a small valley between two hills, silent except for the sound of a small stream, flowing along in its timeless way. Two of the men took all the mounts over to the stream where they fed and watered them. Others set up a number of huts made of canvas, rope and wooden poles, while the last group built a fire in the middle of the circle of huts, and produced meat and roots which they cooked over the fire. As soon as the cooking started, the dogs made themselves at home, as near to the cooking food as the men would let them. I sat outside the circle, back against a lone tree, watching the men work. The concept of organisation and co-operation among them was something even more alien than their language, I tried to picture Battlelord and Fearspreader working together in the same way, and laughed at the imagine of the chaos that would ensue.
Soon the men finished their tasks, and made themselves comfortable around the fire, talking and laughing, and occasionally drinking from a skin of liquid that quickly passed from one man to another. For an hour or more, them seemed to content, and then one of the men got up from the ground. He went to where their leader had set up his own shelter and stood outside, listening. When he heard nothing he went inside one of the over canvas buildings, and came out with a long length of chain which he throw upon the ground near the fire. He said something to the other men as he returned to his seat, and several of them shouted back. Soon a fierce argument arose, the men shouting at each other, looking from the fire, to me, to the chain, and back to the fire again.
Then one of the men shouted something, loud and boisterous over the voices of his companions. As one, the other men stopped their verbal battle, and turned to look at him, many with vicious grins visible in the firelight. He turned to another of the men, one of their number who was small for his intended career, and who had kept himself quiet and withdrawn from the recent argument. The men shouted at him, some jeering, some cheering, a few calling out encouragement and a few more calling out “Michael, Michael...” The small man, Michael, shook his head and remained where he sat. The shouting continued, now more menacing and dangerous in nature. With an expression of resentment and fear, Michael staggered to his feet, apparently befuddled by the amount he had consumed from the flask. Another of the men (the one who initially took the chain from his hut, I think) tossed the chain towards Michael so that it landed at his feet. He bent to pick it up, and almost tumbled head over heels for his effort. With the chain held tightly, he over cautiously picked his way out of the circle of men, then past the canvas huts. It wasn't until he had covered half of the remaining distance that I realised he was walking towards me!
My eyes now riveted to him, I watched his progress step by step. His course kept him between the fire and me, so I could see nothing but his dark silhouette against an even darker sky. He was less than a dozen hands away when he started to shift the chain from hand to hand, finally settling on having one end in either hand. He took another step forwards, when the purpose of the chain dawned upon me. I tried to rise myself from the ground but my legs, tired from a days running behind the Danku's riding beast, refused to part company with the ground. By now the Michael was almost on top of me, pulling the chain tight between his hands. I started to raise my arms to ward off the chain, but the movement sent ripples of pain shooting from the wound in my back, and my arms lowered by reflex to ease the fury of the pain. Taking my lowering arms as a gesture of defeat, he quickly began to wrap the chain around both me and the tree, pulling it tight with each pass, which consequently sent another wave of pain crashing up and down my back. When he had finished I must have been well and truly bound, but I could feel nothing except the pain, and see nothing but the colours of agony dancing before my eyes. For hours I sat knowing nothing beyond my own existence and the pain, O the pain!
What seemed to me to be a lifetime later, the torment subsided sufficiently for sight to return. Around me it was dark, utterly dark, even the fire had given up its light to the darkness. Never before had I been in such darkness.Always there was a fire keeping away the chill of the night; a man-fat candle burning slowly on the table beside my bed; or even the moon, bright and white, shining down to make patterns on the trampled mud floor of the hut I shared with Heartrender. But now there where none of these great comforts, nothing but darkness, complete and utter darkness such as I had never known. And I was alone as it pushed in around me.
11th Day Waning
Slowly the morning nudged me, chasing away the shackles of sleep like a shepherd chasing a wolf from his sheep. “Hey, Soulcliever”, a dream-sun shouted down at me as I struggled towards awakening, “Come on, time to be up and around, time to be chasing humans, raping and pillaging, come on, you know the way of it.” In my dream the sun winked at me, a deep conspiring wink, as it smiled down at me with a grin that split its disk in two.
Then it was gone, leaving only an ordinary sun shining down from an ordinary autumn sky, and I realised that the dream was gone and I was awake, looking at the real sun. AND IT WAS LIGHT! The darkness had gone, fled into the depths of night. It was gone, it was light, and I was still here. The darkness had not taken me away with it into the depths of the lands of the dead. It had left me completely unharmed, untouched, if you discount the morning dew that covered me from head to toe.
I closed my eyes and sat for a while, savouring the warmth of the sunlight on my face. Then the warmth and light vanished as something passed between the sun and me. Opening my eyes again, I watched the small human, Michael, who had tied me up the night before. Quietly, almost reverently, he was working his way around me, quickly unfastening the chain. His face was flushed red, as if from some great embarrassment or punishment. Now that it was light, I could make out what he looked like. He stood less than five hands tall, and very slender, for a human I suppose that he would be considered good looking. He had closely cropped brown hair, and misty green eyes. Like the other men, he was dressed in leather breaches, tunic and a hardened leather breastplate. At his side hung a sword, a long elegant sword engraved with swirling patterns and encrusted in gems.
On the outside of the circle of canvas huts, his leader watched him, his expression and posture stern and unforgiving. The lad finished his task as the chain dropped to the ground, and slowly walked back towards Danku Brian. He reached him, and paused to receive a string of bitter and reprimanding words before moving off towards the rekindled fire where the other men where moving the dogs to make room to eat breakfast. Their leader remained for a moment looking at me in a curious sort of way, and then he to turned and strode towards the fire.
Looking around I found that the Michael had left a sack on the ground, almost resting against my leg. I leant forward to reach it, but not without a stab of protest from my back. Inside the sack, I found a large piece of cooked meat still on the bone, and a number of small spheres of a light green colour. The meat, being a known quantity, I devoured first, then I experimentally tried one of the small green things. It was sweet, yet refreshing, containing both flesh and liquid. I swallowed, and found that the liquid left a slightly burning aftertaste that reminded my of the forest.
By the time I finished eating, the men had their canvas huts reduced to small bundles and placed in the packs on their riding beasts, and the fire covered with earth and water. Soon afterwards, they mounted the beasts and set off again along the road. Painfully, but automatically, I rose to follow them. They watched me for a few score strides, and then I stopped, and ran back to the tree. They slowed down to a walk, and turned to watch me, waiting expectantly. I picked up the forgotten sack and chain, and quickly made my way back towards the convoy. 'What did they think, these humans, what to they expect me to do?' I thought as I approached them. They still watched, although the some of the men looked confused, and others angry. Their leader bore a smug-looking grin as he turned and urged his men to greater speed.
We journeyed towards the tower, league after league, watching it grow larger on the distant horizon. Along the road we passed more fields of green and gold, where human men and women worked with short curved blades to cut the golden grasses and lay them on the backs of waiting boxes on wheels. Watching them, I grasped the subtle, deep-seated difference between men and all other types of man-like creatures, the reason for man's prosperity and rulership other all others. Man worked and suffered to find the needs of survival, whereas other races just carved their living by taking the cream off the top of human achievements.
As it neared midday, I began to make out the details of the tower to which we journeyed. It was a circular building 80 hands across, made of a highly reflective black stone, without break or join. It's battlements stood 80 hands above the surrounding farmlands.A lower wall, also with battlements, ran around it to a height of 10 hands, leaving clear space 20 hands across that surrounded the tower itself, separating it from the lower wall.There where no holes of any kind in the tower itself, or any windows. In fact, the only other feature but the mirror-stone was a solid looking wooded door which stood in the centre of the surrounding wall, rising to a height of 2 hands less than the wall. As far as I can remember, it was identical to the empty tower at Shu-Katsu.
We neared the castle in mid afternoon, in a slight breeze with the sun behind us. The smell of autumn flowers filled the air, which itself was heavy with drifting leaves. Above the gate a banner fluttered in the wind. A rectangle split diagonally into two triangles, one of grassy green, the other of autumn gold and in front of both was drawn a dragon sleeping, depicted in numerous tones of brown. At our approach, a horn sounded from the battlements and the gate swung gracefully open. Their leader at the head, they rode into the tower, and I followed.
The courtyard beyond the gate swarmed with people coming and going. From the roof came a booming sound from a sun-coloured metallic disc hanging from a wooden frame. A silhouetted figure stood beside the still vibrating disc holding a club padded with cloth in its hands. As the boom faded, silence settled over the courtyard. The mass of people had all fallen to their knees then bowed their foreheads to the ground. They stayed this way as Danku Brian and his men swung down from their beasts, then Danku Brian clapped his hands twice and they jumped to their feet again and continued on their way as if nothing had interrupted them.
Through the mass of people, a group of men wearing mantles in the same colours as my captors made their way towards us. They nodded to the men and lead the beasts off to a low wooden building against the towers wall. The leader dismissed his men, and headed for the door of the tower where a short, thin man dressed in a billowing black robe waited for him, invisible eyes watching from within his deep hood. The robe sparkled in the in wind as the silver runes woven into the fabric caught the sunlight. As he reached the doorway, Danku Brian turned and shouted an order to the men who still stood near me, and then he took the mysterious black robed man by the arm and swept him through the doorway into the shadowy depths of the tower.
The men lead me back through the towers gate, and along a track that ran around the outside of the black outer wall. Out of sight of the road, we came to a wooden hut in a desperate state of ill repair, the roof was riddled with holes and there was no door. One of them, the young one, pointed at the hut, at me, then at the hut again. Another tossed a canvas sack through the door, and then they all turned around and walked away, soon disappearing around the curve of the wall. Optimistically, I entered the hut, calling on luck to hope that the weather would hold and keep away the rain.
It was small, less than eight hands square, and only six hands high at the back, where the patchwork canvas roof met the smooth gloss black of the towers curtain wall. It lacked windows of any size, although light and ventilation where not a problem, not with holes in the wall and ceiling large enough to push my fist through. Hanging in the doorway was a piece of rope 3 hands long to which where tied a number of small bells. Inside was musty, with the faint sickly sweet smell of fever, and completely empty except for the sack on the floor, from which pieces of fruit and cheese had tumbled out onto the ground. Quickly I consumed the food and made myself as comfortable as possible in the cramped confines of the hut. Thankfully, I was asleep before the coming of darkness.
12th Day Waning
Another morning awoke me with the sound of something heavy striking again and again at the side of the hut, and each strike hurt like crazy. This was because I was sleeping diagonally across the huts floor with my feet in one corner, knees bent and head almost upright against the wall in the opposite corner. Each time my tormentor hit the fragile side of the hut, the wall vibrated, and the vibrations continued through my head, shoulders and down to my agonising back. With a growl of pain, I sat up, scattering the horde of flies and other foul creatures that had decided that my body was a permanent fixture and fitting for them to inhabit. Outside the hut, as I could now see through the open doorway, the quiet warrior, my jailor and later releaser, young Michael was swinging his sword around above his head, hitting the side of the hut with each pass. The effort of sitting gave my back another excuse to complain violently, alerting Michael as I gave a bellowing roar of pain. Quickly he took a step backwards, then seemed to pull himself together and faced me courageously. Gesturing with his sword, he indicated that I was to get to my feet and leave the hut. Gritting my teeth against the agony, I got up and staggered out to stand before him.
He led me away from the tower and the hut, across green, grassy fields, until we reached a field containing golden corn. A high stone wall ran around the field, separating it from the open land around it, well from most of it anyway, for a hole fully ten strides in length stood between us and the sun lit golden field. Around the edge of the hole stood great piles of loose stone blocks, some from the wall itself and some freshly cut, resting near the lines left in the grass by the wagons that had delivered them. The wall itself, where it was still intact, stood to a height of eight hands, taller than the young solider, yet shorter than I. He pointed at one of the freshly cut blocks, which where all two hands square, and pointed at the wall. Well, that one was obvious! Then he pointed at me, at the block, and back at the wall. I stared at him. He did it again, this time indicating that I was to pick up the blocks and place them in position to repair the wall. Well, so much for the rest, I got to work.
By the time the sun passed its midday position I was awash in sweat and repeatedly blinking to keep the moisture out of my eyes. I had even managed to blank out completely the pain that coursed through my back, ignoring it until it was reduced to a dull ache and the wall was a quarter finished. I looked around for my young taskmaster; maybe I could rest for a while and drink from a stream that I could hear in a neighbouring field. He wasn't there, but his sword, armour, and a sack lay upon the grass where he had been sitting so he hadn't gone far. Well, I thought, I'll do a bit more, and if he isn't back, I'll have a walk over to the stream anyway.
I picked up another block from the pile, and turned back towards the wall. Just as I was picking out where to put it, his scream shattered the silence that had settled around me unsuspecting. I didn't know why then, but something about a scream of terror, from any race, brought out reactions in me that where quite un-kuniakai. Without a second thought, I forgot the wall and sprinted towards the stream, from where the scream had came. Halfway there, I remembered the block of stone; perhaps what followed would have been very different had I remembered to drop it?
At the stream I found Michael, undressed for a swim, lying on his back trying to fend off the attack of a huge grey wolf. The wolf also saw me, and raised its head to howl while at the same time bringing a huge clawed paw back to swing at the man. The howl paralysed me, freezing my thoughts in a grip of sheer terror, but being at least half beast I have the advantage of acting first and thinking about the consequences later. So the wolfs howl was too late to stop my arms swinging the stone block up over my head and sending it flying through the air towards it. My terror broke in time for me to look up and see the block crash against the beast’s head, sending it falling to the ground. It landed fully five hands from the young man, its head flattened between the block and the ground.
Throwing the block did almost as much damage to me as to the wolf. The exertion had opened afresh the wound on my back, and hot, red blood was streaming from it. I was to late, the wolfs last blow had landed and the Michael was also bleeding from a hole at the base of his neck, faster than myself despite the fact that he had much less blood to loose.
I moved towards him quickly, noticing as I did so that the wolf looked as if it had been dead for at least a month. In several places its bones where visible, and quite a few of the pieces necessary for life, such as the heart and the lungs, where absent. But I had no time to ponder the delicacies of such things. I picked Michael up and cradled his in one arm, throw the wolf, minus head, over the opposite shoulder and set off at a run towards the tower and help.
Halfway back my own pain made the run impossible, so I was forced to reduce my speed to a walk.
By the time I could clearly see the tower's gate, I was staggering.
As I reached the gates and muttered something meaningless to the guards on duty, it was taking all my concentration to stay conscious.
The guards wouldn't open the gate, so I kicked it, and it fell. Without further thought, I fell into the courtyard, in the general direction of the main door of the tower. Tumbling forward, I somehow managed to torn around to prevent Michael from being crushed between myself and the ground, landing instead with my back to the floor. The world exploded into violent pain.
The next hour or so passed in agonising flashes of sporadic detail, despite my desperate wish to pass out. First I heard shouting, lots of shouting, and footsteps moving rapidly towards me. Swords where drawn, and appeared in a circle in the air above me. Someone pushed the sword-bearers aside and tenderly picked the young man from my arms. The sword-bearers where shouting, pointing at the wolf to one side of me, and to the pool of blood, my blood, spreading rapidly outwards on the other. More shouting, the swords vanished, returning to their scabbards. Then they grabbed hold of me roughly, and ungraciously turned my over, face to the ground. More gasps, more shouting, more footsteps...
Then I was on a makeshift cot, being carried by an army of men through a series of shadowy halls and corridors.They came to a large, dark room, empty, but clean, dry and warm. They set the cot down and backed off, making room for another.The man in the black robes, with a steaming cup. He put the cup to my lips, made me drink. The taste was foul; I tried to spit it out. I couldn't, he made me drink it all.Then it got quieter, darker, and silent.
Nightmare Midnight
12th Day Waning
With conscience the pain returned, but it seemed vague and distant, almost as if hidden behind a curtain. The darkness was waiting, poised to tear away by soul and shred it, devour it, cast it away deep into the lands where only the dead live. Back then; before I ventured freely in a human world, I did not suspect that there was a reason behind my newfound fear of the dark. All I knew is that I was utterly terrified, lying on an unknown bed with blackness engulfing me so totally that I couldn't see the end of my piggish snout. I could see, or thought I could see, diabolic, horrendous creatures moving slowly about in the darkness. Wolves with glowing red eyes and flesh hanging off in tatters, skeletons rattling in full plate armour, floating disembodied heads trailing bloody intestines, and more, many more. All waiting but a hand away me. Subdued fear spread into outright panic, and like a child, I screamed!
There must have been a guard on duty just outside the door, for it crashed aside almost instantly. The torchlight in the corridor flooded the room, and the phantom undead fled into the shadowy corners and under the bed. The guard rushed in, closely followed by the dark robed, hooded man, both speaking in a stream of fast, foreign words that meant nothing to me.They looked at me, as I in turn looked longingly at the light in the corridor. The hooded man grunted, slapped a goblet onto the table beside the bed, and left. The guard smiled as he too left the room, but he left the door open. He too had seen the wolf that was the walking dead. The ghosts had gone now, and I felt safe.Through the doorway, I could see the guard sitting under a torch on the wall. As sleep returned to claim me, I remember wondering whether he was guarding the humans, or guarding me, and if he's guarding me, what was he guarding me from?
13th Day Waning
I was awoken the next morning by the weight of someone sitting on the pallet near my feet. Struggling to sit up, I could see that it was the hooded man. Noticing that I was awake, he turned towards me, and pushed his hood back away from his face. Pointing at the goblet beside the sleeping pallet, he said in Go-Kuniak;
“From the goblet, the brew you drain,
it will help to ease the pain.”
Then he paused, while I picked by the goblet and downed the contents, grimacing at the bitter taste of the herbs. Looking over the rim, I realised why he kept his face hidden, for he had a horrific scar crossing from under his left eye, across his nose, and down across his right cheek. In places it had healed crooked, so that his face seemed twisted as well as scarred. When I finished drinking, he continued, his long straight black hair falling across his battered features as he spoke;
“I'm Ildoren Hitshu, I give you my name,
and I ask of you to do the same.”
I was still getting over the shock of hearing someone say something that I could understand and the unusual aspects of his appearance, so it was a while before I answered;
- “Soulcliever ad Battlelord my kinsfolk me did call,
Before Battlelord’s head did fall,
Battlelord’s my father, or was until he died,
at my hands, now I flee and hide.”
“Why did you slay him, what did he do,
for you to kill him, did he hurt you?”
- “Why do you ask, do you not fear,
Ogres like all the men I go near?”
“The boy who you saved, your guard yesterday,
Is child of the Danku, who wants me to say,
That you are now welcome in Idun Tolung,
And that your training has scarcely begun,
First in the tongue and honour of men,
Then with the sword and shield you will learn,
But first you must rest and quickly mend,
And for night-time, a lantern I will you lend.”
He left then, leaving me alone to think about what he had said. It was hardly possible that they where going to train me, more ogre than man, how to speak their language and how to use the weapons of a knight. That, if nothing else would keep the ghosts in the shadows and the darkness at bay.
Ildoren began to visit my infirmary daily, arriving promptly each morning to give me lessons in mannish culture, and each day he added more words to my Gokuni vocabulary. As I began to string the words together into sentences, I found that I still chanted, and no matter how much effort I put into it, I could never manage to say a sentence in Gokuni that didn't rhyme, although judging from Ildoren's expressions the rhymes sometimes stretches the language somewhat. So in rhyme I told first Ildoren, and later Danku Brian my story, but reading this, you already know it, so I will not repeat it.
One day, I said something in Gokuni so insanely incorrect that Ildoren burst in to deep laughter. When he laughed, he became surrounded with an aura, a glow of cherry reds, oranges and whites very much like the light of a campfire. In Go-Kuniak I asked him about it, and in reply found out that he was a member of a select group of wizards and priests called the Hokotoma, who meet every year in a great circle of stones on the island of Tojo. The aura, he said, was his 'mark' of membership, and usually only visible to wizards. Excess emotion, such as laughter, makes it visible to other people as well. I tried to question him further, but he changed the subject and went on to talk and teach me about plants and flowers.
Of Giakuni Owl Moon
14th Day Waning
After a month of such study and talk, Ildoren broke his usual routine, arriving breathless an hour later that usual. He collapsed on the bed, and after he got his breath back said:
“Brian himself will give you your training in swordplay, but not until after the Owl Owari Gatsu”
- “This Owl Owari Gatsu, what is it for,
Never have I heard it before?”
“Each cycle of the sun, each year has twelve cycles of the moon, from dark to full to dark again. Each of these moons is given the name of a beast, Dragon, Wolf, Hare, Stag, Unicorn, Fox, Hawk, Griffin, Kingfisher, Owl, Raven and Weasel. At the end of the waning of each Gatsu, or moon, there is a two-day festival, called the Owari Gatsu. The Owari Gatsu is a time of feasting and meeting, where lords and men gather, deeds are rewarded and crimes punished.”
“In the Dragon Gatsu, Stag Gatsu, Hawk Gatsu and Owl Gatsu, the Danku gather to meet the Oosan to whom they own fealty. In the Wolf Gatsu, Unicorn Gatsu, Griffin Gatsu and Raven Gatsu, the Oosan gather at Oomiya Kishin with Oosama Daniel. And in the Hare Gatsu, Fox Gatsu, Fisher Gatsu and Weasel Gatsu, the farmers, blacksmiths, tanners and other freemen gather at each Idun to see their Danku.”
- “The owl owns this Gatsu,
Is today the last day?”
“Yes”
- “Then the training must wait
because Danku Brian is away?”
“Very good, Brain was gone to visit his older brother at Dun Higashi. That is why I was late, I went to see him off.”
- “Danku, Oosan and Oosama,
What means their name,
And the places you mentioned,
Are they the same?”
“Oosama Daniel is the great lord, or Emperor, ruling from his Oomiya, or palace, in the Imperial Capitol called Kishin, over all of the lands of Giakuni. Giakuni itself is split into four provinces, each ruled by a Oosan, or duke, in the Oosama's name, and each living in a Dun, or large keep. In each province, each town or village is protected by an Idun, commanded by a Danku, or baron.”
- “What called this province,
where you and I dwell,
And what of the others,
Tell me of them as well?”
“This is Higashi, the eastern province, the others are. Kita, Itsoo and Nishi, in the north, south and west respectively. The Idun of town and villages have names, always named after the village they protect. This, for example is Idun Tolung, the tower of the Brown Dragon.”
- “Idun Shu-Katsu, between mountains and trees,
what name has that, tell me please?”
“That means Life safe or Life Guard. It is the home of Brian's cousin Jillia, wife of Thomas, the Danku of Shu-katsu."
A gong sounded in th distance and Ildoren jumped from the bed in alarm.
"No more questions now, I must go.”
This he said as he backed out of the doorway, closing it behind him as he turned and fled. He went leaving my most important question about to be asked, and unbidden, it tumbled from my lips any way:
-“Then tell me why Shu-Katsu is empty,
and why its brave guards no more,
tell me who vanquished the tower,
against who will we fight a war?”
Lords Pardon Raven Moon
5th Day Waxing
A week later, a guard stepped through the doorway of my room.
“Master Ogre, you are asked to accompany be to meet with the Danku and his adviser.” He said in a rough but respectful voice.
I nodded to agree with him, and stepped through the doorway into the corridor beyond. He coughed nervously, and looked at the lengths of cloth he was carrying draped over one arm.
“Master Ogre,” he said, “They said that you should change first, into these.”
He held up a fine cotton tunic, Green with gold trim, in fact identical to the one the guard was wearing, but of a finer quality and much, much larger. I took the tunic, and the warm woollen cloak that went with it, and stepped back into the room to change. Surprisingly, they both fitted perfectly, despite my huge stature. I could sense Ildoren's conspiracy in using his visits to guess my size and fitting.
The guard waited patiently until I emerged, then lead me through the maze of underground corridors until we came to a flight of steps leading up to the daylight beyond. We emerged in the forecourt to the Idun, apparently the underground corridors where all in the foundations of the Idun’s outer wall. He led me across the courtyard and through a door into the main tower. We passed a guardroom, and stepped through a pair of double doors into a hall with a huge vaulted ceiling. Behind a low table in the centre of the hall sat the Danku, his son Michael, and Ildoren upon cushions. Around the walls of the circular room sat other people upon the straw covered floor, lots and lots of people, guards and gentry, tradesmen and farmers. Ildoren pointed to a large cushion on the floor in front of the table, so I walked over to it and sat down. The Danku smiled.
“What is your name?” he said without preamble.
- “Soulcliever ad Battlelord, the name my father did bless,
As to others I cannot guess.”
“I think not, new attitudes deserve a new name. I am advised that the name Soulgriever is nearer to but temperament. Will you take the name Soulgriever?”
- “Yes”
“Of which race are you?”
- “I am half of Kuniak, half of man beside,
but people see only the Ogre side.”
"Kuniak means Ogre in your tongue?"
-"As you would say it, I quess, yes."
“I think not, for from this day, the people of this Idun will know you as Half-Man not Half Ogre, This I command.”
- “Kuniak yes, but monster never,
Ogre once, but human ever,
for my new name and race, my lord I thank thee,
and praise the fate that brought you to me.”
“Do you know the young human sat here beside me?”
- “He was my binder, my releaser,
He was my guard once this begun,
He is the boy who braved the wolf,
my lord, he is your son.”
“Yes, my son, and alive now due to the grace of no man, but of a mere half-man.” He paused there, to watch me wince at the reminder at my lack of Mannishness. “I mean no harshness, but say it such to remind the others around you that to trust what you do not understand is not always a bad thing. And I thank the stars in the heavens that I placed my trust in you.”
- “Lord, you did not give me trust,
By day was guarded, and by night bound,
Kept from within these walls,
Until the wolf I found.”
“But I did trust you, that night Michael chained you to the tree, he did so without my authority. When he took you to the wall and ordered you to repair them, that to was also without my command. But he paid dearly for this, and asks that you hold no malice against him.”
- “I hold no malice against him,
Or against anyone of any race,
Except for there is one.”
“Who is this one who you despise, is it an ogre of your old tribe, the Demontooth's.”
- “He is human, and yet is not, a beast of mannish guise,
A master of murder and death, of trickery and lies,
He haunts the fields and woods, and slaughters all he does find,
He killed the human ones, I rescued from my kind.”
“What is this man’s name?”
- “Chian Ishida, his man call him,
He fingers there are four not five,
My little ones now lie dead,
As yet he's still alive.”
“Soulgriever, my son asks of you to become his bodyguard, and I need a captain for my guard, will you accept these posts?”
- “My lord, great honour you bestow,
But while Chian lives, I must say no.”
“I understand, but first you must receive the best training that I can give you, this I will not let you refuse. And when you find this Chian Ishida, you will bring him back to this Idun, where I will see that he pays for his many crimes as befitting civilised, cultured people.”
- “I bow to your wisdom,
So shall it me done.”
This ended the first conversation between the Danku and I, but each day for the following three months he would practice with me and teach me on the ways of battle and swordsmanship. The winter passed quickly, both short and mild, soon giving way to an early spring. As my training neared completion, due to my greater statue and much greater strength, I bested him three times out of four.