For a Better World by Ellynn  

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Chapter 7

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Winter, he decided, wasn’t entirely bad after all. He’d grumbled in the past because the light lasted for fewer hours in winter, so there was less time for running about and playing. But now the shorter daylight meant fewer hours of hard labour, and more of resting in the hut with his brother.

How much longer would this go on? There wasn’t the faintest sign of his punishment ending any time soon – not a single word. “You will be a slave until I decide otherwise”, Vurbag said that day. Nearly four months had passed. How much longer? Another month? Two? Five? But he dared not approach the chieftain and ask. If he drew attention to himself, who knew what fresh amusement Vurbag might fancy at that moment?

It was cold, and almost everything was in a state of dormancy. Yet the wheat was slowly growing. He stared at the small, tiny shoots. How? How would grains form inside them? By what magic? How?! How?!?!

“How does this plant grow?”, “How does that plant grow?”, “How do you grow potatoes?”, “How do you dry meat?”, “How do you store fruit?”, “How do you make beer and booze?”, “Why do you throw cow dung around plants?”, “How do you turn those plants with the big fluffy balls into clothes?”, “How do you turn sheep’s hair into clothes?”...

And each new answer bred still more questions.

“How about waiting for me to finish answering a question before you ask another?” Elwyn would often say to him, laughing.

How could he wait when he wanted to know? Right now!

And sometimes... sometimes even other people, not just Elwyn and Melyth, answered his questions.

He would lie in the dark at night, staring at the ceiling. Were humans evil?

The other boys certainly didn’t doubt it. The other boys were... good boys, and the Master would be pleased with them.

But the other boys didn’t experience what he experienced every day. They didn't see. They didn’t know.

Oh, why did he doubt? He ought to try to become good somehow, so that the all-powerful Master wouldn’t discover his thoughts and punish him even worse than Vurbag could. But the world was so contradictory! A bunch of things he’d been told clashed with an even greater bunch of stuff he’d experienced.

He rolled over to the other side. Why didn’t sleep come?!

-x-x-x-

And they were doing it again! That strange thing, the strangest of all!

Adult humans sometimes did it to their children, he noticed; the females rather more often, but the males as well. And males and females did it to each other, too. But not just any males and females, but only those who lived together. As a family.

What a peculiar gesture!

Body-squeezing, fine, that was alright. He even liked that. But this?!

He had to find out.

“Ahem... Melyth. Er... what’s that thing when people touch each other with their mouths?”

Mouths were for eating, right? And for speaking, of course. And that should have been it. Done.

“Of course. You orcs don’t do that. I wouldn’t expect you to. You see, it is a kiss,” Melyth said and lifted her head high. “When you give a kiss, it means you love someone. It’s showing love. That’s what family members and friends do, yes.” She nodded several times, then puckered her lips and made a loud smack into the air before her. “There, that’s how it’s done.”

He blinked and froze, forgetting the hoe in his hands and the soil before him, and stood still for several moments. What?! If you loved someone, you wanted to touch them with your mouth? Nonsense!

What dragged him back to reality was a movement – a figure with a whip had clearly noticed his pause and was striding towards him. But the overseer was fortunately still far enough, and he jerked back to work just in time and started working faster than before. The overseer then evidently abandoned the idea of punishment, for he stopped and turned his attention elsewhere.

What was the word again...? Ah, yes. Kiss. Showing love, she said.

Well, alright, he certainly liked Uldut. But to go and... kiss him, like the humans did... not a chance!

Why would anyone want to do that?!

-x-x-x-

He wasn’t entirely sure about the passing of time and hours, but it felt as though the days were becoming a little longer. Yes, it was still cold, yet he had the sense he was working slightly longer than a month ago, and that he was returning to the hut a touch later.

As soon as he stepped inside that evening, Uldut broke away from the other children and dashed towards him.

“Murty! There’s no new brother! We’re not going to give him— um, that, you know, our...”

He blinked. What...? How...? Ugda’s belly had grown so much these past weeks that only yesterday he thought it would burst. So how come there’s nothing now...?

“What happened?”

“Mother started squealing this morning just after you left. She was there on her straw and the females from the hut went over to her. The squealing went on almost until lunch. It was impossible to stay inside because of the noise, we went out. You could also hear it outside. And then she stopped and then when it was all over one of the females came out. I asked if we got a brother, and she said no. That the baby was defective, those were her exact words, and that it dropped dead quickly after it was born.”

Oh, so that’s why. He shrugged. Ah well, there’s nothing to be done. No new brother to play with. No matter. They had been fine until now, surely they’d go on being fine. They used every scrap of his free time to play together, and they’d go on doing that and—

“Murty?”

He flinched and blinked. “Eh?”

“What’s ‘defective’?”

Hum, he had heard some overseers use that word for some seeds once and then they threw it away. So, the word could obviously be used for other things as well, not just for seeds.

“I think it means something’s wrong with some object.”

Hopefully, he didn’t say the wrong thing to the little one.

Uldut stared at the floor for a while, eyes fixed on one spot, utterly still. Then he lifted his head toward him again.

“Murty, I’m not defective?”

He gawked at his brother. “Of course not! Where did you even get that idea?”

“Well, I, um... I don’t want to be dead. Like that baby. I wanna play with you lots more. And if I’m defective maybe I’ll drop dead tonight too.” Uldut’s voice trembled at the end, and he lowered his head. He looked as if he was about to cry.

“Come on, don’t worry! You got two normal arms and legs and a head and all. You’re fine, kid!”

The small face lit up at once. “Really? And you’ll keep me from dropping dead? I’ll always be good, you’ll see, just keep me safe!”

He smiled. Of course, he’d look after the little brat. He was quite likeable. And good, yes.

“I will, Uldy. I’ll always be there for you and watch over you.”

“Yay!” The kid bounced and gave him a body-squeeze. “My big brother, the best. I... to you ...um...” Uldut started stammering and fumbling.

“The word you’re looking for is thank. When someone does something nice for you, you say ‘thank you’.”

“Thank you, Murty!”

“And together we’ll look after Mazoga. She’s still so small.”

Uldut’s face crumpled. “But little girls are sooo stupid and boring!”

Uhm... His brow furrowed. Yes, that was true. And yet... they were... family.

He watched human families every day, over there – inside and around the cage. And he saw the strength of those family bonds especially clearly on that stormy evening a few days earlier...

The storm with rain and strong winds had come suddenly, just before it was time to go back to the village. When the first heavy raindrops fell on him, he was at the entrance to the human cage because he had been helping to carry firewood inside. He looked about. One cottage had a little protruding overhang, and he quickly moved next to its wall.

 

The humans also poured into the cage, all at once, so even if he tried, he couldn’t have forced his way out through the mass surging inside. Around him echoed voices, pounding of many feet, shouting of overseers, loud bark of wargs who were driving the humans in, drumming of heavy rain, thunder and wind. Then, as the clamour began to ease, before he could even move, a loud “clang” came from the gate.

 

The main doors had closed.

 

No! That meant his own kind were leaving! He bolted for the gate, bumping into humans who had come in last.

 

“Heeeeeey, wait! Don’t leave without me!”

 

But a new thunderclap swallowed his cry, and the overseers were already vanishing into the lanes between the stables.

 

He stood staring ahead; all was empty now, no one in sight. Warg’s dung! What now? Plainly, none of the overseers had even thought of him in their hurry. He went back under the awning, though it was pointless now because he was already soaked to the skin after standing next to the gate. His clothes clung to him, his hair to his scalp, brow and neck. His teeth began to chatter, and he was shaking. Oh, how icy it was! He wrapped his arms around himself, but it didn’t help much.

 

Would he have to stay like this all night? Yes, for his folks would not return. And who knew when the rain would stop. Surely he’d freeze. He whimpered. If only he could curl up by a fire, dry off and get warm... But the hearth was in the village – as unreachable as if it was hundreds of those big miles away, not just feet. The only huts around him were those in which the humans lived.

 

Humans. Enemies.

 

And yet... He had already experienced their kindness. Received help. Uhm... Could it happen again?

 

He stood there thinking. Could it? Or not? He shivered again. Murtash, if you don’t move, you’ll only get worse.

 

Though he had only ever looked at Melyth’s cottage from outside the cage, it wasn’t hard to find his bearings. As he ran between the huts the downpour soaked him still more – if such a thing was even possible. But it was. By the time he reached his target, he felt as though he’d been dunked whole into their stream.

 

He opened the door and burst in, and slammed it behind him. Then he turned to the inside of the small cottage.

 

They all stared at him as though seeing an apparition – eyes and mouths wide, stunned.

 

And frightened.

 

Melyth.

 

Elwyn.

 

The male whose name he couldn’t exactly recall, though he knew him by sight as Melyth’s father.

 

And there was also... also... an old female who... who had never been mentioned, who had never been in the field, of whom he had never heard! Where did she come from?! Now he was staring just as shocked as they were.

 

“Murtash!” Melyth’s cry was as weak as mouse’s squeak.

 

But he wasn’t paying attention to her, and his gaze was fixed on the old woman. Whaaat?! “Who are you? Where did you come from? How did you get here? Why have I never seen you? Where are you and what do you do all this time?”

 

Elwyn was the first whose fear faded. She narrowed her eyes at him, and studied him for a few moments. He shifted and stepped backwards, so his back touched the wall.

 

“We’ll come to that a little later,” she said slowly. “For starters, where in the world did you come from?”

 

“I was carrying wood into the cage when the rain started and then I took shelter under a roof and then all the humans ran inside and my lot shut the gate and forgot me. And I’m wet and cold and I wanted to get warm and dry so I came to you. And now... now I want to know who that is.” He pointed at the old female, then looked at her more closely. Her hair was grey, face deeply lined, and the shape of it...hum, actually, quite like the male’s, Melyth’s father. Yes, especially the cheekbones and square jaw. She must be his mother!

 

The old female still looked at him in fear, as did Melyth. The male’s face had taken on a stern expression. He straightened to his full height, brushing the cottage ceiling with his head, and his arms moved slightly away from his sides. The arm muscles bunched, and fists clenched.

 

His heart leapt, stomach knotted. What now? Should he run? Would he make it?

 

“Renweard,” Elwyn called out to him in a calm, low voice. The male turned to her.

 

“If the kid speaks of this, we’re dead. Both my mother and us, because we hid her, and it won’t be a quick death. It is very likely that the orcs would then figure our they should search all the huts, and they’ll find our other elderly too.” The male’s voice was very low-toned, his throat bump bobbing as he spoke those strange, incomprehensible words.

 

“True. However... my heart tells me this kid is different. I’ll talk to him.”

 

“I know your instincts are rarely wrong. But this time the stakes are too high.” The male started waving his arms as he spoke.

 

“Just remember how he warned Melyth, and that was even before he had had a chance to learn things from us. I believe he’s even better now at judging what’s right.”

 

The only thing he caught was Melyth’s name. Still, it wasn’t hard to guess; the male was upset, and hostile towards him, while Elwyn was calming him. Yet after her last words – whatever she’d told him – the male lowered his arms and backed off a little. He was still frowning, but at least no longer looked so openly threatening.

 

Elwyn came over and knelt before him, so that their eyes were level. She looked at him in silence for a long time, head slightly tilted, never taking her gaze off him. He began squirming again. Why was it so hard to bear the glance of those blue eyes?

 

“You’ve surprised me once already,” she said slowly, and one corner of her mouth lifted slightly. “Will you do so again?”

 

What?! Well, these grown-ups were really crazy! His grown-ups, human grown-ups – no difference. All of them spoke incomprehensible nonsense! Instead of telling him what he wanted to know, she was adding new riddles.

 

“Actually, I think you will,” she went on. “And so, you’ll get your answers. But first, I must... plead with you.”

 

Oh splendid, now came another odd word – when humans used phrases from their own language. He rolled his eyes.

 

“What did you say?”

 

“You don’t know, do you? To plead means to request something especially politely, because it is deeply important or necessary to you.”

 

Uhm... whatever. Not that he really saw the point of that way of asking. He shrugged. “Alright then, just ask away.”

 

“I’ll plead with you never, ever to tell anyone what you’ve seen so far, and what else you’ll see and hear tonight.”

 

As if anyone wanted to hear about what happened to him! Ah, all right, Uldut did. But the others? No. Still, regardless of that, he will say yes. It was clearly important to Elwyn that he keep quiet. Elwyn – the one who had helped him more than once when he was hungry. Well, that was enough for him. Yes, he will do what she asked.

 

“I won’t tell anyone.”

 

Now a genuine smile appeared on her face. “I thought as much. Very well, you’ll hear what you’re curious about. But first...” She stood up, still smiling. “Let’s dry you off before you flood our cottage.”

 

Oh! He’d forgotten entirely how soaked he was. Well, who would think of that after this unexpected discovery?! But now he looked down. A little puddle formed around his feet; the clay floor couldn’t absorb the water streaming off him quickly enough. He stepped towards the fire burning in the centre of the cottage – there was no proper hearth like in their huts – and came right up to it. Oh, it was so lovely and warm next to it. He could stay there all evening.

 

He looked about more closely. The cottage was tiny. There were straw mats along two walls, two shelves and a small side table against one wall, a few scraps of food on one shelf and some clothes piled on the floor by the remaining wall. And that was all. A small pot hung above the fire. He couldn’t see what was in it, but his stomach growled and his mouth filled with saliva.

 

“Yes, you’ll get a bit, too.”

 

There weren’t any big table or chairs; they ate sitting on the floor. But he was warm, slowly drying, and though he wasn’t quite full – there were just a few small potatoes and even less meat – at least his belly wasn’t empty.

 

He licked his fingers, then looked at the old female and back at Elwyn. “Who is she and where does she usually stay and tell me everything!”

 

Elwyn shook her head and smiled. “Curious as ever.” Then she grew serious. Melyth sat by her mother, watching her keenly, while the male and the old female sat a little further off, each on a separate straw mat. But they, too, were watching him and Elwyn intently.

 

Elwyn looked at him gravely. “Theodwen is the mother of my... ahem... my man. My partner. Due to her age and the issue with her right shoulder, she can’t work in the fields anymore. So she lives here and never goes out, and shares with us whatever we have. Your people are unaware of her. They think she died several years ago.”

 

Somehow, he expected a long story, but that was all she said. The explanation was short, yet packed with information and plenty for him to think about. He scratched his head, then shook it, and finally frowned. The old female was... well, plainly useless. If any of his own people knew about her, they’d throw her to the wargs – just as they always did with slaves when they grew too old or for some other reason unfit to work. And Melyth’s family fed her and sheltered her. Hmmmm...

 

“She...” He pointed at the old one. “She gives no contribution?”

 

Melyth’s father growled. But Elwyn’s expression remained calm. “Your people would certainly put it that way, yes. She doesn’t.”

 

“And you... For her to survive, you have to share with her what you have, and then you’ve less to eat yourselves?”

 

“That’s right.”

 

How strange!

 

“But... why? If someone is, um, useless...” He stumbled on the word, saying it with difficulty, and quickly glanced to both sides over his shoulders and then behind him. “... why care for them and protect them?”

 

“Elwyn!” The male’s voice roared and rang in the small cottage with such force that he jumped where he sat. “Do you need more arguments and proof?”

 

Elwyn’s face was still calm. She exchanged a long glance with Melyth, then turned back to him. “Tell me, Murtash, is there a person – anyone at all – you’d like always beside you? To talk with? Be with? Even if that person did nothing else at all, only stayed with you? Someone you... love?”

 

He sat up straight and lifted his head high. “Uldut! My brother!” he exclaimed.

 

Elwyn didn’t reply, only leaned forward towards him, and looked at him with her eyebrows raised.

 

Uldut. That little nuisance. His baby brother, playmate, his shadow. Yes. He’d want the boy always there, even if somehow one day Uldut became useless to the village and to the Master. He would want his brother – his only friend – beside him. And yes, he’d share everything with him.

 

Oh!

 

He blinked, then opened his eyes wide.

 

Oh!!!

 

To share everything with someone dear, even if they were useless... Well, looking at things that way – no, it wasn’t strange anymore. Not in the least. Precisely because that person was dear to you. Because you... loved them.

 

“Er...” He drew breath, and looked at them all in turn. “I... I didn’t think of it myself. But yes... I understand.”

 

How many times had his whole world turned upside down since he’d come into deeper contact with the humans?

 

“You understand? And you won’t speak of what you’ve found out tonight?” The question came from Melyth’s father. The male watched him tensely.

 

He shook his head. “I won’t.” Why would he? The old female was obviously dear to them, just like Uldut was to him. Let things go on as before.

 

They were good to him, so he’d be good to them. What was the thing they told him? “If you do something that makes someone else feel bad and suffer, that’s not right. If you do something that makes someone else feel happy and well, that is right.” Yes, pretty simple. Besides, their misfortune wouldn’t make him happy in any way. Unlike, say, Shorzac’s misfortune.

 

“Thank you,” Elwyn said softly, and she and the others exchanged glances. They looked at one another and smiled, without words. Suddenly, it seemed to him as though they didn’t even notice him, as though he wasn’t at the cottage at all, as though they were in a world of their own.

 

And now that he thought about it… hadn’t he sometimes seen similar looks and smiles between other humans?

 

Yes, he had. They loved one another, and their shared affection brought them happiness.

 

A family, consisting of a mother and father, and other additional members. A very, very strange thing indeed. What would it be like to grow up that way? Who could tell. Still, Melyth had turned out all right – you could talk and play with her. And the other human children seemed all right, too.

“Murtyyyy!!!”

He started, and then shook his head. What...? Ah, yes, he’d been explaining family to the little one. He looked at the boy and smiled. “Still, Mazoga is our sister. We’re a family. You feel okay with me?”

The kid grinned and nodded vigorously.

“Family members help each other. That is the right thing.”

Uldut frowned a little, lips pursed as if thinking, and then broke into a broad smile.

“Okay, Murty. As you say. Right. You know everything and I’ll listen to you.”

He gave the kid a body-squeeze. “We’ll always stick together.”

A smile, and happiness.

The rags of Ugda’s space swayed and their mother emerged, holding a flask in one hand. He looked at her. Her hair was even more dishevelled than usual, sticking out like spikes. The big belly was gone.

She tottered a few steps towards the shelves on the far side, took a piece of bread, and started back. Halfway across, her gaze fell on the two of them.

“What are you staring at me for? Mind your own business!”

On the next step she stumbled, and saved herself from falling by grabbing the table. Then she went on towards her pallet, chewing the mouthful of bread and washing it down with the content of the flask. The smell of it made it plain that there wasn’t water inside.

“Mother!!!” Mazoga broke away from the other little girls and ran to Ugda.

“Don’t pester me!” Ugda swung her leg and kicked her daughter; in doing so she lost her balance again, and this time didn’t save herself but crashed to the floor. Then she crawled on all fours into her space – still clutching the flask tight.

“Aaay!” Clutching her belly, Mazoga whimpered and sniffed, tears slipping from her eyes.

Poor little kid.

“Mazoga!” he called her, and their sister looked over. “Come here.”

But Mazoga didn’t move; she only eyed them warily.

“It’s alright. Come here.” He held out a hand and nodded to her. Then she moved, but even when she reached them, she didn’t come very close. She watched him from the corner of her eye.

“We’re not going to hurt you. Just come and sit with us.”

And then she finally took that last step and sat down beside the two of them. He patted her shoulder.

The three of them. Family.

-x-x-x-

Aaaagh!!!

Pain burst in his belly. He was instantly awake. He jerked upright and tried to dodge the second blow. Not quite successfully; the overseer’s boot still caught him.

“Think you can sleep?! You sluggard! You can’t!!!”

Clutching his stomach, he half-staggered, half-crawled a few steps. Several heads turned his way; the shouting drew the attention of humans who were slowly getting up to resume working.

The midday meal had been – like always – meagre. Yet even so, it had the effect meals often had: it had made him fall asleep. His head had drooped, and the guards had noticed.

Another overseer waddled over on his short, crooked legs. “The little stinking slave’s eaten too much and don’t want to work, eh?” bellowed the bow-legged one and cracked his whip.

Aah!!! He failed to dodge, and the lash bit into his arm and shoulder. He quickly lifted his hands to protect his head at least.

“Hah! No food for him next two days. Let’s see then if he feels like sleeping!” The overseer’s lips stretched from ear to ear, showing black rotten teeth. “And no bringin’ him to the village for the night so he can’t eat nothin’ at home either. We’ll lock him up here in the coop for the night.”

“Good idea, but you know what? Not in the coup, he could pinch himself some eggs in the mornin’. Better shut him in one of the tool sheds, no food there,” said the bowlegs and nodded several times; his expression showed he was very pleased with himself.

“Aaaye, that’s even better,” replied the first one, then turned back to him. “Now get back to work, little turd. We’ll put you away tonight.” A lash of the whip accompanied the words.

Oh no! Two days with no food. The words echoed in his head, and tears spilled as he worked. Two days! He had never been without food that long. Half a day – at most. How would he survive?

He laboured with blurred sight, unable to think of anything else. Two days. His stomach was already growling. What would happen to him after two days? Perhaps he’d even die.

He only wanted to curl up and cry.

If only he could find something and store it for later! But there was nothing nearby to serve as food; even the nearest fruit trees were too far off. And even if they weren’t, there was nothing he could do. The overseer was close and keeping an eye on him, and he would spot him wandering at once.

The afternoon dragged on, and in the evening they locked him up. He didn’t struggle, didn’t shout. It wouldn’t have helped even if he did. Just the opposite – it would only have earned him another beating.

The door clicked shut. He was in the half-dark, alone, hungry and thirsty. Tears welled in his eyes again.

There was hardly any space to move. Outside, it would have taken about ten of his small steps to cross each side of the square shed. But the shack was crammed with farm tools, coils of rope and baskets, and in the inside he only had a little space in the middle. He curled up, resting his head on a bundle of canvas bags, and stared ahead.

The evening passed quickly. The light coming through one tiny window soon faded. Darkness fell. And silence.

Well, not quite. His stomach rumbled.

And not just that. Yes, he was alone. But... the timber around him was creaking. The walls, the shelves, the planks. Very softly, but still audibly.

Were they talking to each other? What about? Maybe about collapsing on him and burying him? So that no one ever found him.

Something began crawling up his leg and heading for his knee. He screamed and jumped, hitting his head on something above while at the same time slapping at his leg to kill the creature – a spider, cockroach, centipede, whatever.

His heart hammered wildly. He trembled. And wept again.

When the sobs eased, he wiped his eyes and snotty nose on his tunic and rolled onto his other side. He lay with eyes open, though it made no difference from the moments he would close them. It was the dead of night and the blackness around him was impenetrable. The ground was stiff and cold.

Oh, to be on the soft straw pallet in the village, under a warm blanket by the fire! To be next to Uldut and listen to his cheerful giggle! Even Mazoga – noisy and screechy like all small children – would bee welcome company now.

Had the night only just begun? Was it the middle? Was sunrise soon to come?

Oh, how cold it was! He shivered all over. He pulled his knees closer to his chin and wrapped his arms around them. It helped – but only for a short while. Soon he was shaking again, and his teeth chattered.

He would surely die tonight.

And he wanted so much to keep playing with Uldut, to discover new stuff, and see many more days... but he wouldn’t. New tears streamed, and this time he wiped them on the sack under his head instead of his tunic.

Wait a second. Sacks! Cloth!

He leapt up, bumping once more into unseen things in the dark and setting off a cascade of hoes onto himself. Yeah, there’d be new bruises tomorrow. He pushed the hoes aside to make some space and then, slowly touching around, unrolled the sacks. Four, excellent. One he spread on the floor. One he folded several times – that would be his pillow. And two would serve as blankets.

Oh, how wonderful to be wrapped up like that! The shivering finally stopped, and warmth slowly spread to the tips of the frozen, numbed fingers. It was... well, not as good as at home, but at least not as wretched as a few moments ago.

But his stomach still howled, his mouth still parched, and he couldn’t sleep.

He dozed. Kept on waking. Rolled from side to side. The wood around him still creaked. Talked.

Was it plotting to kill him? Did wooden huts eat little boys who strayed into them at night, so no one ever saw them again? He didn’t know.

Perhaps they did.

Vurbag loomed over him, pressing cold steel to his ears. He screamed. Then, panting, lay back. Just a dream; he sighed with relief. But he wept all the same. Alone. Scared. Hungry. Thirsty.

Still crying, still trembling.

And maybe... maybe this punishment was the Master’s doing. Because the Master, being all-powerful, had seen into his mind and seen his doubts. And was punishing him for being a bad boy.

Perhaps it really would be best if he died tonight. He wasn’t worthy of the Master’s service anyway.