Crusade - James Lowder [76]
As one of the lieutenants raised the severed arm up high, another two rushed forward and the punishment was meted out on another murderer. The orcish soldiers cheered and made bets on who would cry out or who might struggle. Azoun stood grimly by, but he noticed that Torg seemed to be pleased by the grisly scene. Alusair and Vangerdahast simply turned away.
The last murderer did try to stand when his turn came, but Vrakk kicked him in the face, knocking him senseless. A few hunks of meat and copper coins changed hands in the orcish crowd, the wagers won and lost by the prisoner's actions. With a third and louder shout, Vrakk raised his sword and finished the task.
With a sharp nod of approval, Torg signaled his troops to return to their camp. He glanced at the sun, then at Azoun and said, "We march in less than one hour. Stop by my tent so we can discuss how best to unload the supplies from your ships." That said, he spun around and marched through the tall grass after his soldiers.
As soon as the ironlord was out of earshot, Vrakk began to growl a series of orders in Orcish. Five Zhentish soldiers, wearing tattered, long robes instead of leather armor, rushed forward. The orcish commander pointed at the three dying murderers and grunted.
As the five robed orcs started to chant and wave small skull-headed wands over the wounded prisoners, Vangerdahast said "Shamans." Alusair wrinkled her nose in disgust as the priests bloodied the skulls on the severed arms.
Vrakk strode proudly to Azoun's side. "They probably live," he noted in broken Common. "Cut arms only way to shut up dglinkarz. 'Sides, our god heal so orcs fight and make better deaths."
"But they can't fight after this," Azoun gasped. He motioned to the three severed arms that still littered the ground. "Their wounds-"
Vrakk grunted a laugh. "That why we cut left arm. They still fight." He glanced warily at Alusair, then added, "She no tell dwarf. They demand them dead again."
"Don't worry," Alusair said coldly, directing her answer to her father. "If you're going to allow the orcs to break a blood-payment, I won't stand in your way." With that, she stormed off after Torg.
The robed orcs had finished their wild incantation to Lord Cyric. The three wounded soldiers on the ground didn't look much better, but the stumps where their arms had been weren't bleeding as freely. Azoun swallowed hard to push back the disgust he felt. "March your troops to the shore, Vrakk. Find the ships there and wait. You will help us unload some supplies, then board."
The Cormyrian king nodded to Vangerdahast, and the two set out for Torg's tent. The wizard walked with his hands clenched behind his back. Every few steps he glanced at Azoun, who was as silent as the dwarves breaking camp.
"I think you did the right thing," Vangerdahast ventured after a while.
Azoun stopped walking. "The right thing?" he exclaimed, shaking his head.
"I'm afraid Allie is right. I've offended good allies for the sake of monsters."
"Perhaps," Vangerdahast said sagely. Patting the king on the shoulder, he started toward the tent again. "But you know as well as I that Zhentil Keep will use any slight against these troops as provocation to break the treaty."
Azoun could only agree. The happiness of the dwarves was not worth a war with Zhentil Keep.
Torg was in a fury when the king and the wizard arrived. He shouted at his squire three times as Azoun tried to set up a rendezvous point in Thesk. After one half-hour, however, the spot was decided. The dwarves were to meet the Army of the Alliance between the cities of Telflamm and Tammar, along the trade route known as the Golden Way.
"While you wait, you can drill your troops," Torg told Azoun as the meeting was concluding. "You won't have long. I'll press my men to get them there as quickly as possible."
Torg's mood shifted suddenly, and he smiled for the first time in hours.
"Ha!" the ironlord cried and slapped Azoun's arm. "We'll work this out after all!" He stood and gestured broadly. "My troops