Chapter 20

It seemed whatever shit thing could happen, had happened, as Orin and his two new traveling partners walked the hot desert of the land they washed up on. The heat was bad, but the hunger was worse as they hadn't eaten in two days.

Rendal had mistaken how long it'd take to get to Volantis as they soon found out after walking this long. Vilar remained quiet most of the time, but Rendal had been going off loudly and often at their misfortune. Orin recalled him once saying he was better off drowning in the ocean then suffering like this.

It was a fair argument to be sure, but they were still living, and Orin took comfort in that. His wound had healed considerably since he'd woken up on that beach. It was still sore, but his arm no longer felt that piercing pain then it had before. If the managed to make it out of here, Orin suspected he'd owe Vilar his life.

Out of the three of them, the quiet Meereenese man had done the least complaining. In fact he hardly spoke, instead walking in silence. It was an amazing thing to see, the sheer determination of the man to want to see his family. He'd endured worse in his life, but refused to give in.

"Don't know where the fucker gets the patience," Rendal breathed, turning back to watch Vilar. "I'd kill a man to drink right now, and here he is walking like he just ate a bloody meal."

"Some men are stronger then most," Orin replied. He didn't need to turn around to see the glare from the vulgar sailor.

"Says the man with the only damn weapon," Rendal snapped back.

"Not my fault you weren't smart enough to bring your own." Insulting strangers wasn't a common practice Orin kept, but he'd been with the men for a long two days, and had known enough that he felt comfortable telling them how it was.

"Aye you're a proper lad huh." Orin could practically hear the eyes roll on Rendal. "Well out here you're just like the rest of us. Just dumb cunts who refuse to die."

"You sound like you're getting there," Orin noticed.

Turning, he gave a long look at Rendal. His baldhead had started to crack under the harsh sun, his eyes barely open, and his face covered in sweat. The gash that he'd gotten during the fight on the ship had almost turned purple and every time he took a breath, he inhaled sharply in pain. Besides that, his movements were slow, and he was certain the man's ankle had twisted.

They were all worse for ware, but Rendal seemed to have taken the worse of the hits. Orin and Vilar still had their age, so their bodies hadn't given up on them yet unlike Rendal.

"As long as he doesn't die, I won't die," Rendal gestured to Vilar who had now passed them both.

"We won't last much longer out there," Orin stressed, eyeing their surroundings.

A mixture between sand and green was all around them as the coast remained on their right. They gave up signaling to a boat during their first day after seeing no one for hours. Instead they headed east, hoping that eventually they'd hit Volantis.

Orin had thought they'd find some sort of land owned by someone, but it never came. Of course back home you could travel for a long time without seeing a mill, or castle, or establishment, but not after walking for two days. Somewhere out here there had to be something, or they'd die.

"You're right there lad," Rendal agreed, calling back Vilar who'd now gotten a few dozen yards away. "Best we try looking for food one last time."

The stubbornness of the man astounded Orin. After a day without food, Rendal had pointed out that even without taverns or castles anywhere in sight, they still could hunt for their food. Without arrows or crossbows, they weren't going to catch anything on land. Instead, they spent a good while in the ocean, trying to catch fish.

From the pain in their stomachs, and anger coursing through them, they'd obviously failed in spectacular fashion. Now, a day later, Rendal wanted to try again.

"We're better off walking," Orin argued, hating to spend another minute in the water as the fish swam by. "You said that Volantis was a two days trip, it's been two days, surely will be there soon."

"Yes well I could very well be wrong," Rendal snapped. He ignored Orin's protests as he headed towards the water. "I plan on making it to Volantis, I can't do that if I starve to death."

Calling Vilar over, Orin watched as Rendal and the man headed past him towards the sea. Of course Vilar would side with the man who he could speak to. Orin hadn't said a word to the man since thanking him after their first night. Now once again he'd waste his time hunting for fish he'd never catch.

"Fuck me."

Two hours later, with still nothing to show for their efforts, Orin had long given up trying to catch a fish with the make shift net he'd made from his shirt. Instead, Dawn glistened in the sunlight, as he jammed in down hoping to kill one on impact.

"You'd have better luck having the fish jump into your lap," Rendal laughed, a few yards away.

"Fuck off," Orin mumbled, swinging down again. Once more the tiny fish around jetted around his ankles, almost taunting him. "I don't see you catching any."

"True, but at least I don't look like a fool."

"A fool to who?" Orin snapped, lifting his hands around. "No one's here. There aren't any girls to fawn over you old goat."

"I thought we agreed not to trade insults," Rendal smirked, before his eyes hardened. "Or talk about girls."

Orin sighed in frustration.

It had been an unspoken rule that Rendal apparently had with the other sailors during his long voyages. Most of these men were away from their families for quite a long time, so the comfort of a woman's arms was hardly accessible when they spent most of their time on the sea. Of course there was the occasional brothel visit during a stop, but apparently Rendal had standards.

"First thing I'm gonna do when we reach Volantis," Rendal mused, a smile on his face. "Get me a woman."

Eyeing the man's older state, Orin couldn't help but laugh. "You're getting old to be chasing girls."

"As long as my cock works, that's not a problem. Besides, can't stay young forever, take advantage while it lasts lad."

Swinging his sword once more, Orin thought about his past. Here he was, a man now, an inheritance to give away, and he'd never been with anyone. All the chances he'd ever had, and he turned down each time. Perhaps he was a fool for thinking he'd feel something for someone besides lust. After all, most people didn't marry for love. Whatever notion he had in his life that made him think he'd be the exception, was now one of failure.

Maybe Arianne had been right the whole time; maybe people could give into their lust without worrying about what's to come. Sighing, Orin assumed it didn't really matter. After all he didn't expect to make it back to Westeros, let alone find a woman, before he starved to death in this heat.

Swinging his sword once more, Orin's eyes widened as he connected with a large fish that happened to swim into his thrust.

"Finally," He whispered, dropping his hands quickly into the water to retrieve it.

"Bout bloody time," Rendal laughed. "Come on, I'll start a fire, you did the hard part."

An hour later the three found themselves sitting around a fire as the sun started to go down and only the flames were a source for light. They sat on the beach, under a hill that indented into the ground, giving them a slight roof over their head.

The fish hadn't been too large, but just enough that all of them ate a good amount. Even after one bite they started to feel the effects of the much-needed nourishment. Now, the fish picked clean to the bone, the three sat comfortably hoping the next day would be their last until Volantis.

It almost seemed like a lifetime ago that Orin had been in Kings Landing attending Joffrey's wedding. Now he sat with men he hardly knew, yet felt more comfortable with them then anyone else he'd met in a long time. Two and a half days fighting to live really put a mark on knowing whom you fought with.

"You never told me why you were heading to Volantis?" Rendal asked. He gestured over to Vilar who was still trying to find any fish left over in his hands. "I know why he's here. But what about you?"

"It's a long story," Orin sighed.

Rendal looked around. "Seems we got the time."

"One I don't feel like discussing," Orin pressed. It was hard enough thinking about all those he lost, he didn't needed the added reminder of telling more people. "It's just easier."

"Life's never easy," Rendal agreed, dropping the subject. "You'll have a better chance catching a thousand fish then finding solace in your life."

Orin smiled a bit. "Is that another way of saying I should give up?"

"No." Rendal shook his head. Grabbing the left over fish he'd eaten, he tossed it over at Orin's feet. "Had you given up, we wouldn't have eaten tonight. If you want to do whatever it is you want, you have to fight like hell. It won't come easy, but eventually you might find a way. We all have. It's why we're still here."

Looking hard at the two, Orin knew that was true. One was born into nothing, working all his life to survive, and the other was raised into slavery, and had to escape his torturous life to survive. Each their own path, and each fought to survive. It wasn't easy, and it never would be, but maybe there was still enough push in him that Orin could still achieve what he wanted.

There was still a mountain of hurdles to pass but he couldn't quit now. That wasn't him, and it certainty wasn't the men around him.

"You're very wise," Orin offered. He could almost see the man smile in the darkness. "What about you? What's you're story? I don't know where you're from?"

"You wouldn't know it," Rendal waved his hand. "Ever here of Bear Island?"

The name didn't mean anything to Orin as he tried his best to remember everything he'd been taught. "Afraid not."

"It's expected," Rendal understood. "After what Mormont did to our house, Bear Island hasn't been what it used to be."

"Mormont?" Orin repeated.

"House Mormont," Rendal confirmed. "Northern house, small numbers, proud people. Wouldn't want to get in a scarp with one of 'em."

The words felt heavy in Orin's throat. "You're a northerner?"

"Born and raised," Rendal smiled faintly. "Haven't been back in many years though, almost 20 I think, I can't remember. All the same, seas been my home ever since."

It was interesting to see that one of the men he was stranded with could have been a citizen living under the rule of the house he was meant to be lord of. Orin had no ambition to be Warden of the North, or Lord of Winterfell, but in another life, he was, and Rendal, and his home Bear Island, was under that lordship.

"So you knew the Starks?" Orin asked hesitantly. It was a sensitive subject, but one he couldn't help ask about.

Rendal, doing his best to access the danger of his answer, nodded anyways. "Not personally. Like I said before, I'm no lord. Never even met the Mormonts and they were in charge of Bear Island. But I knew of the Starks, everyone in the north did. Good people, honorable family, horrible how it ended for them."

Orin felt a small sense of pride hearing about his family. Even as most of the world regarded them as traitors, regular people, the ones you'd never think to ask an opinion for, still understood what the Stark name meant.

"Most would say they got what they deserved," Orin mumbled, thinking about all those who wronged him.

"Every monster thinks there the hero in their own story."

It was easy to see it that way; no one wanted to admit to themselves that they were truly horrible. For so long they chose to do unspeakable things, and the moment they start questioning that, they collapse. It was easier putting the blame on everyone else rather then facing the fact that you're the problem. Orin never had a problem questioning right from wrong most of his life, but the older he got, the horrors he saw, the more that resolve started to falter.

"I need to piss," Orin mumbled.

A slight nod was all he got as he got up and left the men amongst themselves. The more he talked, the more he started to question himself and his cause. The last thing Orin needed right now was doubts. His sole purpose should be on making it to Volantis and figuring out things from there.

Walking a few yards away, Orin relished the cool breeze as he stood in darkness. As difficult the last three days had been, it felt a little good to not have the weight of so much on his shoulders. Even thinking that he felt terrible, but it was true. No one to save, no one to fight, nobody to avenge, just him with two strangers alone in the wilderness. It was peaceful.

Crack!

Turning his head at the snap, Orin felt a small cold blade rest against his throat as he stopped moving.

"Move and you die."