The Forgotten Chieftain's Wife Chapter 3
Using her memory Lyanna found an open unoccupied area in her time with the Horde. Luckily, in the years she'd been gone, this space stayed empty. When they arrived the clan immediately began setting their camp, but not before some much needed moral was lifted.
Catching some movement Lyanna expertly shot an arrow from her bow hitting its mark through the head of a small rodent. Killing the poor unfortunately creature instantly. Other clan members followed her lead. A flight of arrows followed her with many finding their marks. The prey they struck falling over and lay kicking in the dirt. It'd been a good long while since anyone in the clan sampled a decent source of meat. Game had been almost scarcer on the journey than it was in the frozen north. Before the north became barren of life the Frostwolves hunted large prey animals that fed the clan extraordinarily well during the good and bad. Talbucks, the delicate fierce gazelle-like animals, and the huge clefthooves, which were more than a challenge to kill but well worth the effort. Thou this was smaller it was still a relief.
While the meat was being cooked over fire the clan jumped into the task of erecting their campsite. The makeshift traveling tents were built with Frostwolf banners depicting the clan's sigil of a white wolf on a blue background hanging in front of each one.
Throughout it all the orc female Draka remained close to Lyanna's side along with Durotan's mother Geyah.
In the orc culture the weak were disposed of having no use or tolerance for weakness. But the Frostwolf Clan handled things far differently than the clans living in the southern lands. Instead of discarding those born weaker at birth they were given an chance to grow stronger. Sent into exile they could return or die from exposure without proper protection.
Two years after she was thrown inter her exile Draka had returned triumphant and strong no longer resembling the weak, frail, and delicate orc she once was. Draka had been welcomed back like the returning hero she was.
At first Draka's beauty, strength, fortitude, and orc heritage almost made Lyanna fall into despair. She thought Durotan would choose Draka for a mate instead of her. Especially when his father's wolf picked her as his new rider. She was obviously the best choice to provide him and the clan with orc heirs.
She'd been shocked when Durotan chose her for a wife passing over Draka. Lyanna expected Draka to be furious she'd been overlooked, but that was far from true. Draka was understanding and supportive of the pair. After that the two women became fast friends.
Geyah, on the other hand, by all accounts was a bit harder to win over. Not only was she Durotan's mother, but she was the Lorekeeper of the Frostwolf Clan. She was responsible for keeping the traditions and legends among the Frostwolves alive. Needless to say she wasn't all that thrilled when Lyanna and her son became so attached to each other. Initially she'd been pining her hopes on Draka, but those proved false. After Durotan's predecessor Garad died Geyah was extremely resistant to any sort of change even stuff outside of her control. Once she accepted it after so many obstacles things went a whole lot smoother between them. It's a typical mother-in-law to daughter-in-law relationship. Well if one cold call it that.
After the campsite was built Lyanna tried to rest her worn out body in front of one of the fires. Draka, Geyah, and Drek'Thar joining her around the flames. Needless to say Lyanna was so happy to finally have some time to relax despite having been on Midnight's back most of the day.
Rubbing the back of her aching neck tiredly, Draka sighed "I'm so glad we've gotten that over with. Having to rebuild our camp for about the hundredth time day after day really takes a toll on you."
Leaning back, rubbing her stomach, Lyanna said "I wouldn't get too comfortable yet. The Horde is no place to let your guard down." Lyanna then winced as the baby kicked her hard in the ribs again.
"Lyanna," said Draka, worriedly.
"I'm all right. It's just the baby. He's really restless today. His kicks are getting stronger," said Lyanna, smiling reassuringly. That faded as he felt a dizzy spell coming on, swooning. She lifted a hand to her head to steady her.
"You don't look all right," argued Draka, concerned.
"Perhaps I should take a look," said Drek'Thar.
Sighing Lyanna nodded conceding to the treatment. So Drek'Thar and his aide Palkar, a fellow shaman who'd tended him for years, assisted in the examination. By the time the examination was complete darkness had fallen.
Orgrim and Durotan finally returned from their tour of the Horde. Drek'Thar prepared for her a tea mixed with herbs hopefully to calm the child and soothe her frazzled malnourished body. Afterwards he'd placed his palm over her chest to check her heartbeat and then touched the back of his hand to her head checking the temperature. It was then they all heard Durotan and Orgrim.
Spotting them first, Geyah announced "They're back."
Immediately Lyanna gently pushed Drek'Thar's hand away not wanting Durotan to know she was feeling a little poorly. There was already so much on his mind she didn't want this to add to his stress.
"My Love," said Durotan, smiling. With some assistance from Geyah she got up to meet Durotan.
Wrapping an arm around his wife the couple kissed, Lyanna mindful of her husband's tusks.
"Shouldn't you go to your tent for that," jested Orgrim, grinning.
"Oh you," said Lyanna, smacking the air in his direction since she couldn't actually reach him.
Durotan's laughed at his friends teasing taking a seat in front of the fire. Lyanna sat next to him pressed comfortably against his side an arm slung over his leg.
Taking a look around Durotan's council of advisors was consisted all together in one place. Durotan always came to them for sound advice in any situation. Since these were the people who knew him best it was the perfect mix.
Casting a disgruntled glance at the small array of animals cooking over the fire, Orgrim grumbled "I see we're still stuck eating rodents."
"It's better than nothing, Orgrim," chided Lyanna. "At least we have food. We basically didn't catch anything on the way here. Take advantage of this time."
"She's correct," agreed Drek'Thar. "Food is food. It should not go to waste."
Grunting in acknowledgement Orgrim grabbed a spit tearing into it with gusto. Lyanna chose one she saved for Durotan, the rabbit she'd shot earlier. Durotan enjoyed the sample of succulent meat, but he always liked it even better whenever it was something she hunted for him.
"So what did Blackhand want with you," asked Lyanna.
Swallowing the mouthful he was currently chewing, Durotan sighed "Nothing good."
Durotan notified the rest to what Blackhand informed. Not everyone would be leaving for this new world through the portal. Only strong warriors would be able to go while the weak and infirm that weren't in this class were forced to remain behind.
"Who will you take," asked Drek'Thar, quietly.
Durotan gave the list he already congregated in his head on the way back. Geyah and Drek'Thar weren't on it only Orgrim, Lyanna, and Draka. Even Lyanna as the exception was seriously stretching it. Durotan already had an explanation prepared for that.
"Lyanna is coming with me no matter what," said Durotan. "Not only is she my wife, but this new world is her home. It's only fair she goes back."
"I will not argue your decision, my chieftain," said Geyah, resigned, somber. "For my part, I will stay behind. When the Spirit of Life visited Drek'Thar and me, it told me that I would need to stay with the clan. Now I understand what it meant. I am a shaman and I fight well, but there are others who are far younger, stronger, and faster than I. And I am a Lorekeeper. Spirits guard you, but if this vanguard should fall at least the history of our people will be kept alive."
"Thank you, Mother. You know I will come for all of you as soon as it is safe," assured Durotan, grateful.
"I understand as well," said Drek'Thar, sorrowful, gesturing at the cloth he always wore hiding his ruined eyes. "I am blind and old. I wouldn't be any help at all only a crippled liability."
"No," disagreed Geyah, hard. "My Chieftain, reconsider taking Drek'Thar. He is a shaman and the Spirits told us they would be there in this world we are about to enter. As long as there is earth, air, fire, water, and life you will need a shaman's expertise. Drek'Thar is the best we have. He is a healer and you may need his visions to guide you, my son."
Durotan allowed his mother's words to sink in for a few moments seriously considering them. "You will not fight with us," decided Durotan, firmly. "Only heal and advise. Have I your word?"
Bowing his head, Drek'Thar said "Always, my chieftain. It will be an honor enough to go."
"I'm glad you'll be coming with us," said Lyanna, softly. "It will greatly ease our burden." Or more specifically her burden.
Durotan went to speak further, but he broke off rising to his feet with one hand going to Server's hilt, the great axe.
There was an uninvited visitor to their camp.
The visitor was nearly as large as Blackhand. The glimmering firelight cast shadows on a physique as sculpted as if it had been carved from stone. He wore tattoos with his most distinguished one being the orcs jaw inked solid black. His long black hair was pulled into a topknot, skin green with fel.
Lyanna stiffened noticeably against Durotan, recognizing him.
"I am Grom Hellscream, Chieftain of the Warsong," greeted the orc, eyes sweeping over the newcomers. His eyes stopped on Lyanna making Durotan tighten his arm around her. They remained on her for an awkward few seconds before eh continued. "Blackhand told me that at long last the Frostwolves had come." Amused he grunted dropping a bulging sack at Durotan's feet. "Food."
Certainly it was food, but, unlike what was roasting over the flames, whatever was in there was alive.
Grom grinned "Insects. Best eaten alive and raw or dried and ground into flour. The taste isn't bad."
"I am Durotan, son of Garad, son of Durkosh," said Durotan, "and Grom Hellscream, Chieftain of the Warsong, is welcome at our fire."
To make appropriate room for the Warsong Chieftain, Draka, Drek'Thar, and Geyah removed themselves from the scene taking accommodations at a separate fire.
Grom sat digging into one of the spits still holding some meat.
Conversationally, Durotan mused "It seems as though Gul'dan has united all the clans."
"You were the last to join," said Grom, nodding. "We were among the first. When Gul'dan came to us and told us eh knew a way to travel to another land, one rich in game, clean water, and enemies to battle, we agreed right away. Others required proof like yours to know if Gul'dan's words held truth. That's when he showed them her," he pointed towards Lyanna, "and afterwards they joined. What more could an orc want?"
"My second in command, Orgrim and I met with Blackhand upon our arrival," said Durotan, wisely drawing the conversation away from his wife. "He told me of his plans to take a wave of warriors to this land for it. We spoke of weapons and those who wield them, but I am curious as to Gul'dan's own preparations."
"Gul'dan has found a way for us to enter another land," said Grom. "An ancient artifact, long hidden in the earth. His magic lead him to it and when we arrived here we began to dig. We have unearthed it at last and tomorrow we will use it."
Brow raised, Durotan said "We came all this way to dig up a magic portal?"
"It is the path to a new world," said Grom.
"You believe this," asked Orgrim, skeptical, throwing a log into the fire.
Fisting his hand, muscles flexing in his arm and bicep, Grom said "I believe in Gul'dan. I believe in the fel. His death magic has made me powerful. You'll see. When you feel the strength of five." Before Grom spoke to Orgrim, but now eh addressed Durotan, speaking directly chieftain to chieftain. "You owe it to your clan, Durotan. Make your warriors unstoppable."
Distracted Lyanna heard the ground crunch revealing someone silently approaching the group. Turning she identified the lumbering giant.
"Blackhand," she breathed, shakily, eyes wide.
Blackhand, Warchief of the Horde, had not changed at all. Blackhand is one of the largest orcs in the Horde. His skin a dark true brown instead of green, free of the fel. It glistened with either sweat or oil and was adorned with numerous tattoos. His massive hands, ones that beat her mercilessly on more than one occasion, were completely black with ink. His eyes hard, cold, and calculating as they always were. Just as intimidating and menacing as ever without saying a single word. It was taking everything Lyanna had in the very fiber of her being not to bolt. If Durotan weren't holder so close she would've definitely been in their tent by now.
Upon the danger Lyanna's hand instinctively went to her stomach to protect her child. With the shield there it simply appeared like she was merely shifting positions as reflex.
While Grom stood bowing in respect to Blackhand, Durotan and Orgrim each had a hand on their weapons as a precautionary measure.
Hearing Lyanna's familiar voice Blackhand's head snapped to where she sat. When he saw her there he growled far from pleased with what he took in between her and Durotan, how close they physically were.
"So the rumors are true," growled Blackhand, "You have taken the slave as your consort."
"What I do with my clan isn't any concern of yours," said Durotan, reproachful.
"You're tainting your bloodline," spat Blackhand, disgustedly, glaring. "I had to come see for myself. It's bad enough having one half breed in the Horde and now you want to create more. You'll bring disgrace and dishonor to your line, destroying it forever."
"On the contrary," countered Durotan. "I believe I'm making it stronger, strengthening it."
Snorting, Blackhand said "Well keep a tight leash on her. Just you wait she'll try to run the first chance she gets."
Gathering her courage, Lyanna said "That may have been the case before, Warchief, except now I no longer had a reason to run." Her old defiance showed to be enhanced with her role as chieftain's wife.
Blackhand and Lyanna locked eyes, but she was not swayed. Neither was going to back down in this stare off. It only broke when Orgrim interceded breaking the tension.
Gruffly, Orgrim said "Why are you here, Blackhand?"
"I wanted to see what sort of orcs had joined the Horde," sneered Blackhand. "Frostwolves not quite the monsters I was expecting."
"Your warriors seem pleased with Gul'dan's gift," said Durotan. "You don't want his magic?"
Most of the orcs residing in the Horde carried the fel in their veins. Curious, Durotan wondered why Blackhand rejected the fel besides embracing it.
"I respect Gul'dan," said Blackhand. "But a warrior is not made with magic. He is forged in battle." Throwing one final glower at Lyanna, Blackhand walked off probably to tend to the needs of his own clan.
"Blackhand seems strong enough without," observed Durotan, bluntly.
"Ah, but why be strong enough when there is stronger still," said Grom. Exaggeratingly emphasizing his point Grom lifted his arms flexing every ounce of muscle in his body.
Well no one could deny Grom's new and improved physic, but there was one thing that was totally a negative.
"Yes, but you're green," said Orgrim, bursting into laughter.
Durotan and Lyanna laughed with Orgrim. The joke managed to ease the underlying tension in the atmosphere Blackhand left in his wake.
"Yeah very funny," grumbled Grom.
Smiling, put at ease, Lyanna took deftly took advantage of this little spare time they had to relax. This would be her last one coming for an extremely long time.
Authors Note:
Next chapter is the portal. Our girl is going home.