‘I meant no disrespect,’ Fletcher said, trying to be polite, ‘but I don’t understand how the Raleighs fell out of power.’
‘The orcs, boy. That’s who are to blame. They came in the dead of night, sneaking by all the livestock and the grain and everything else that my lads were protecting. We thought that was what they wanted, so why protect anything else?’ he said bitterly, clenching his fists at the memory.
‘They slaughtered everyone in the Raleigh family home; the women, the young children. When we got word of it, they were gone, taking the dead with them as trophies and tying them to the trees on the borders of their territory. Lord Raleigh put up a terrible fight. His Canid took three of the orcs out before they slit its belly open and left it to bleed to death. I put it out of its misery myself, poor thing. So don’t be thinking I have something against summoners either!’
Sir Caulder shuddered at the memory, then walked up the arena steps to an open door in the wall.
‘You’re not a bad fighter, but you’re going to need to learn how to fight against an orc. That shoulder barge wouldn’t have any effect and you’ll be fighting against heavy clubs and axes, not precision weapons. Come see me again and I’ll show you how,’ he said from the doorway, then disappeared inside with a satisfied grunt.
Jeffrey walked him to the entrance and lifted the torch to Fletcher’s face so he could see better in the dim light. Ignatius crawled on to Fletcher’s shoulder and purred at the sight of the flame.
‘He really did a number on you. That’s swelling up something fierce,’ Jeffrey said.
‘It doesn’t hurt that much.’ Fletcher touched the welt on his face and winced.
They returned in silence to the atrium, pondering Sir Caulder’s story as they made their way back up the tall staircase.
‘Tour’s over,’ Jeffrey groaned as they emerged into the atrium. ‘I need to get back to work now.’
‘Did you know about Sir Caulder and the Raleighs?’ Fletcher asked Jeffrey as the servant began to clean the floors again.
‘I knew about the Raleighs, but I had no idea Sir Caulder served under them. I do know the Raleigh incident was what set the war in motion. The King and his nobles began to expand Hominum’s borders in retaliation; cutting down their trees and razing their villages year after year. It was only when the albino orc began uniting the tribes that it became a proper war though,’ Jeffrey replied, scrubbing at the floor.
‘I can’t believe I hadn’t heard of it before.’ Fletcher scratched his head. It seemed that living so far north of Corcillum had limited his education on the politics of the wider world.
‘You wouldn’t. It was kept very hush-hush. The King doesn’t like the commoners to know that a noble line can be snuffed out, just like that. It’s only because noble offspring go here that I know about it; Sir Caulder never mentioned anything like that before,’ Jeffrey replied.
‘He must have cared about that uniform very much,’ Fletcher said, stroking Ignatius’s head.
‘Speaking of which, I can’t believe you haven’t had your clothes cleaned yet! It was a little nauseating in the confines of the corridor downstairs, Fletcher. Go back to your quarters and I’ll send someone to collect your clothes and take you to the baths. Seriously.’
22
The moon was full and bright in the cloudless sky. Fletcher shivered and pulled at his uniform’s collar; it was the only clothing that hadn’t been taken away for cleaning. Still, he had to wear something; it was freezing in the room and the tattered blanket on his bed did little to keep him warm. He leaned out of the glassless window and into the cold night air, thinking on the day.
The elf had remained in her room, which had suited Fletcher just fine. The rest of the group had been cheerful during lunch and dinner, eager for tomorrow and what wonders it would bring. Fletcher found that he enjoyed the company of the others, although the tension between Atlas and Othello left a strained undertone to the otherwise cheerful evening. He was particularly drawn to Seraph, whose clear charisma and knack for storytelling had everyone hanging on to his every word. Rory’s happy-go-lucky attitude had also endeared him to Fletcher, and although her efforts at salvaging his uniform had been in vain, he had found Genevieve to be a kind person with a dry sense of humour.
It was strange to know that they would all be risking their lives in the hot jungles of the south in just a few years. Although Fletcher tried to avoid thinking about it, the others were eager for battle. Genevieve was the only one who did not openly flaunt her wish to fight, although she spoke of the orcs with a dark fury that belied tragic experience.