Journey of the Messenger Cycle 2 Part 5d

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The dining hall stank of booze, vomit, pipe-weed and sex. Aside from Orgaden and his eight men, there were a few women there as well, when they made their entry one of the women was quick to get up, find her clothing and approach them. Marrilas scowled as the young woman struggled to get her dress on, which was similar to the modest garment the older servant wore. Most of the other women seemed to be the sort that hired out their bodies to men like Orgaden.

Ijah was rather disgusted with the situation and quietly asked, “Should we just kill them while they’re passed out?”

Roddarra seemed shocked by her question, “I cannot murder my cousin in his sleep.”

“Which one is your cousin?”

“That one at the end of the table.”

“He’s a big fellow.”

“Yes, and well known for his strength and combat prowess.”

Their quiet exchange woke a couple more of the women, one sat up, looked to the group of them and made a rude noise before laying back down and pulling a garment over herself. The other one who woke was a young Tannican woman, she appeared to be very disorientated and there were signs of abuse. She stumbled around looking for her clothing, eventually noticed them near the entry to the hall, when she spotted Ijah she let out a sob and approached. She prostrated herself, speaking Tannican.

Ijah only understood a couple of the words, namely what she took to be help and imprisoned. She crouched down and asked, “Sit up, girl. Do you speak the freeholder’s tongue?”

“Yes, great mistress. This men took me, killed my family when we tried run escape armies.” Her andalee was from the west and her Tannican accent meant it took Ijah a moment or two to understand what she had said.

“These men took you and forced you to fornicate with them?”

Shame faced she glanced away, “I did not fight.”

“Who was your family? From where did you come?”

“Kar Kahtal. Of Rogh Damattrah.”

“That’s the nearest coastal free city… Perhaps not so free any longer.” Roddarra informed her.

“Being of the Kar, her family was likely part of that city’s ruling class.”

One of the men gave a long pained moan, followed by a loud fart. Ijah stood, drawing the young woman to her feet, to Roddarra she said, “Give her your coat.”

Ijah pushed her luggage to the side, stripped out of her own coat and took up her sword. Some of the other men began to stir. Roddarra quickly gave the young Tannican her fur coat and pointedly said to Ijah, “I’d prefer if we did this my way.”

“That’s fine. I’ll just be over here.” She moved to the far end of the hall and found a spot between the large fireplace and what appeared to be a servants door.

Roddarra had quiet words with the servants and the refugee, the two younger women departed together. Elli took off her outerwear and sat on her travel chest. Roddarra went to the end of the table opposite her cousin while Marrilas pulled the heavy drapes back from the window.

Bright light flooded the room, those men who were already waking cursed or shouted loudly, a goblet flew over the table and clattered against the wall near where Marrilas stood. Orgaden came to his feet with a start, shielding his face from the light with a raised arm, “What is this!”

“This, cousin, is me informing you that your behaviour is totally inappropriate. You came here demanding guest rights and broke the covenant. Seemingly, some of your other recent decisions have been as poorly considered. I demand an explanation.”

The big man gave a hacking cough and spat to one side, “Who, by the gods, are you, wench?”

“Really cousin, are you so addled as not to recognize your own kin?”

“…Roddarra?”

“Just so. I hear you’ve made claim to the high-lord’s seat. What news of my father?”

“Your father…? No one has seen him since the battle of NevrGrens. It is assumed he was slain, as less than one in ten of us escaped that massacre.”

“So you’re high lord now? Hiding in West Port with eight men? Brutalizing the servants? Taking slaves?”

“Bah, what would you know of it, woman?”

“Well, any number of my siblings would more than likely object to your claim. Even cousin Morathagga’s claim would be favoured over yours. Not to mention you obviously did not see my father fall, nor have you stood before our peers and been given that title.”

Ijah took note as Orgaden’s men rose to their feet, some of them with knives in hand. One of them was so sick with booze that he leaned over and noisily retched, spitting up bile. A couple of the whores moved off to the side. Marrilas moved to the main door but did not leave.

“Ha! As I said, you know nothing of the matter. All those things are gone, our people scattered to the winds. Why don’t you gather up your ‘Quinnian mistress there and fuck off.”

“I can’t do that for many reasons, Orgaden. Not the least of which is your boorish behaviour. But, also, should it prove to be the case that my father is dead, then my claim would hold precedence over yours. So, you can bend the knee and made amends, or-”

His fist came down slamming into the table, “Or what!”

Roddarra’s expression hardened, “Or, we can settle this with swords.”

Orgaden threw his head back and laughed loudly, “You! You’re a broken little princess who’s never cared about the family. No one would follow you. You are not even worth my time. I’ll just have my men kill you and that will put an end to your foolishness.”

“You’d murder the high lord’s daughter rather than face her in single combat? You have fallen low, Orgaden. You are no kin of mine.”

“Enough of this horse shit. Kill her.” He waved dismissively and sat back down.

The men with weapons in hand moved forward tentatively, some of the others moved to where their weapons had been left the night before. The one fellow who had been retching began throwing up in earnest. Ijah quietly moved from her position as Elli stood and grabbed up Roddarra’s sword.

Roddarra spoke calmly into the growing tension, “If you raise your weapons against me, you will all die.” Elli came up to her, extending the sword, hilt first. Roddarra placed a hand on the pommel.

Orgaden growled, “Just kill her.”

Roddarra drew her sword. Ijah did likewise and closed to the nearest man who was reaching for a long handled axe. Most of the others began to move towards Roddarra. The man in front of Ijah must have spotted the glint of her blade as she had drawn the weapon, he looked to her with a startled expression as her two handed swing took his head off.

As Ijah advanced towards the next man, Roddarra screamed a battle cry and rushed the men nearest to her. Ijah’s blade cut deeply into the man’s torso, he had not even seen the attack coming. Ijah kicked him aside and glanced at Orgaden who was next closest to her. The big man was obviously shocked to see Ijah. As she closed towards him he threw himself from the chair, generally away from her, knocking the chair to the ground, Ijah kicked it out of the way and quickly checked her surroundings.

Roddarra had downed one foe, lopped the hand of a second and the third knife wielding man was rapidly backing away. Elli had put the table between her and most of the combatants, she was throwing dishes and cutlery as fast as she could. A man with a sword in hand was closing on Ijah.

She ignored the closing threat and advanced towards Orgaden, the man picked up a chair and fended off Ijah’s attacks with it. Ijah was forced back towards the fireplace, defending herself from the sword armed foe. She knocked aside the man’s third attack and drove her weapon through his sternum. Orgaden had made it to his own weapons, a silver tray careened off the man’s skull and he cursed. He grabbed his sword, tossed the scabbard aside and bellowed as he advanced on Ijah. She slid her blade out of the dying man in front of her, who obligingly fell to the side, his weapon clattering to the ground.

Orgaden charged like an enraged bull, sword held high. Ijah stepped towards him, her own blade raising to a high guard position. The big man’s sword came down, she parried and stepped to the side rather than take the full force of the blow. She kicked at his foot and he stumbled past colliding into the wall.

She spared a glance at the rest of the room as she turned back towards the big man. Elli stood near the table, a plate in hand, Roddarra was sword to sword with the last standing man. The rest were down or otherwise incapacitated.

Orgaden pushed off the wall, turned with a heavy swing of his blade, which came nowhere close to hitting Ijah. She darted in, sword thrusting out. He raised a hand to block the thrust, lost two fingers and a third of his palm, the tip of her blade bit into his chest. He backed into the wall, roaring in pain, counter swinging wildly. She managed to parry, but the force of the blow knocked her back a pace. Orgaden pushed off the wall, swinging and Ijah backed up another pace. Again, he advanced on her with another powerful swing, forcing her further back.

Then Roddarra was beside her. She thrust for her cousin’s exposed left side, the strike did not land true but grazed along his ribcage. His attention shifted to the new threat and Ijah stepped in, plunging her sword through the man’s neck. She pulled the blade clear, stepped back and to the side in an effort to avoid the blood gushing from the dead man. Orgaden’s sword clattered to the ground. Roddarra’s blade came down on his left shoulder and the man staggered back, clutching at his throat. Fighting for a breath he would never take he slid down the wall, an expression of disbelief and pain plastered across his face.

Roddarra was breathing heavily, Ijah looked her over and noticed she was bleeding from her side. Her friend glanced down at the wound then swooned. Ijah dropped her blade and caught her as she passed out. “Marrilas! Can you get us a healer?”

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