Chapter 2
When Mildburh learnt that she was pregnant, she was the happiest young woman in Odiferous. It felt like the day had suddenly brightened and even the dull chores she usually detested couldn't ruin it for her.
She wanted to make her husband feel just as special, so she worked extra hard that day. She cleaned up the entire house and prepared his favourite dish (overripe cheese with onions). After that she made sure that she looked most beautiful. She braided her long, brown hair and even dared to put on her best dress, something she only did on special occasions.
"What is it?" her husband, Osred, asked when he entered the house.
Mildburh beamed at him and replied with a smile, "There's going to be a little barbarian running around the house soon."
Osred let out a bellow of joy, threw away his weapons and caught his wife into his arms. He lifted her high above with no difficulty, even though she was not a light woman. He kissed her hungrily.
"When?" he asked with eager eyes.
"Oh, not in a while. It'll be spring when the child is born," Mildburh replied with a joyful chuckle. She couldn't believe how happy she was. Osred was the most perfect husband any woman could wish for. He was big, strong, and a skilled hunter, so he always had something to bring home. He had thick raven hair and a long beard that was the object of envy of many Odiferian men.
"Then I'll have more time to build everything! We need a cradle. And toys! My child will have the best in all of Odiferous!" Osred promised as he put her down. Mildburh could hardly wait for the first time to hold her baby, or to see the child in Osred's arms. He would be the most perfect father! The little boy or girl they'd have would get everything they desired.
Unfortunately, Mildburh loved her husband so much that she was blind to one of his lesser character traits. He always treated her with love and she rarely left their home, so she was never there to witness the impatient bursts he would sometimes have.
It was never anything big. Someone accidentally bumped into him in a bar and spilled their mead on him, his favourite yak lost a race or his prey managed to escape. Osred would slit his eyes and growl to himself, then start raging at whoever was closest to him. If he was mad enough, he could hit, but he always calmed down in a few minutes and apologized for his behaviour. Since he was such a nice fellow otherwise, everyone forgave him and understood that everyone had their strange moments.
Still, it was Osred's uncontrollable temper that brought the misfortune on him and his wife.
Mildburh was four months pregnant when it happened. The day was the worst she could remember. It had been raining for a week and roads had turned into puddles of mud. Despite this, Osred had gone out to hunt with some of his fellow men.
She had promised that she would have a good, warm meal ready for him when he arrived. Unfortunately, the marketplace had flooded just that morning and nobody had been able to buy any onions. Her friends had only been able to bring her some cheese.
The door was smashed open and Osred stepped inside. He was dripping water everywhere and the grim expression on his face revealed that they hadn't caught anything.
"What do we have for food?" Osred asked. He put his bow down on the table next to the door.
"I'm sorry, there was an accident at the marketplace. It was the rain. Nobody could get much, but we have some cheese," his wife explained quickly.
Osred slit his eyes and drew a deep breath to calm himself. He wouldn't have normally got so angry because of such a minor detail, but spending the entire day in pouring rain for nothing had been stressful. Mildburh knew this, so she hurried to give Osred his meal.
"It's alright," he offered but didn't look at her.
"How was your day?" Mildburh asked, hoping to improve his mood a little.
The effect was quite the opposite. "We almost got a wild goat, but then Vildar slipped and alerted it!" Osred snapped and smashed his fist against the wooden table. "If I had had a few seconds more, I would have --"
Suddenly, there was a faint knock at their door. Osred let out a frustrated sigh and went to open.
"Yes?" he asked. The rain was still raging outside and the wind was bringing in water.
There was an old woman. She was almost completely hidden under her long cloak and only her slim hands could be seen. "I'm a tired traveller in need for shelter. Could I bother you for one night?" she asked.
"Why don't you go to the inn?" Osred asked.
"I have no money," the old woman admitted almost sheepishly. "Please, I won't be any trouble. I'll be fine with a dusty corner, and you don't even have to share your food with me." She gestured nervously to the corner with the fireplace. Unfortunately, she managed to brush the bow on the table, causing it to fall. The string snapped off.
"Look what you did!" Osred snapped. He took one step closer to the woman who backed away in fright.
"I'm sorry, it was an accident!" she tried to explain.
"Get out of my house!" Osred was red in the face and his eyes were bulging out. He lifted his hand, as if his intention was to hit the woman, but somehow he stopped himself from doing that.
Mildburh gasped at her husband's sudden rage. She had never seen him act anything like that. It had to be because he was already in a bad mood. She quickly hurried to his side.
"She didn't do it on purpose!" she said. Her husband didn't reply.
The woman sighed miserably. "I'll pay for what I did. I don't have money, but I can work. Maybe I can clean up or help your wife. I see she is with child," she said.
"I don't care!" Osred shouted. "If you don't leave now, I'll --!"
The old woman glanced behind her where rain was still pouring down. She looked so miserable that Mildburh wanted nothing more than to help her, but she didn't dare open her mouth. Who knew what Osred might do when he was this angry?
"Please, only one night?" the old woman asked.
"Get out!" To illustrate his words, Osred pointed his finger outside. He didn't look like he was about to change his mind.
"Fine, I'll go," the woman agreed then. She clenched her fists in anger. "However, this injustice won't go without a punishment. You have an impatient heart and you're unable to feel compassion for those not close to you."
She threw back the hood of her cloak and turned her glare at Mildburh. "Your child will be weak and will never grow to be a warrior. He will wither and be miserable for his entire life!" she announced.
Mildburh paled and quickly grabbed the woman's shoulders. "No! Not my child!" she begged.
The old woman almost smiled. "You're a kind person. Fear not, he will not die young."
"Get out, you witch!" Osred barked.
The old woman nodded once and with one step she was gone. Osred closed the door and turned to his wife. She was now sobbing and refused to even look at him.
"Why did you have to do that? You know we could have given her a room! That was an old bow! You were going to get a new one anyway!" she hissed accusingly.
"It's not our responsibility to care for those in need," Osred replied. He didn't sound very angry anymore, but he was too proud to admit that he might have been wrong.
"But what about our child? She cursed him!" Mildburh cried.
Osred went to wrap his arms around her, and she turned to cry against his shoulder. "No, she didn't. She was just a crazy, old woman. Don't let her words get to you," he whispered soothingly.
Mildburh wanted to believe him, but she had seen the woman's eyes. She knew that something was going to go wrong.
Every barbarian lifted their head when the door to the prison was opened. One of the enemy warriors stepped inside. His face betrayed no emotion as he looked at his prisoners, but the barbarians threw insults at him, growled and waved their fists in the air.
"You," Daunus said and pointed at Runtar. "I have come for you."
"Me? What do you want with me?" the small man asked. He glanced at the others, but they could offer him no answer.
The door was opened and he stepped outside for the first time in months. It didn't feel like anything special, and he was a little disappointed. He had been expecting some sort of sudden joy for his freedom.
Daunus gestured for him to follow and Runtar had no choice. He turned back to look at the other barbarians who remained in the cell.
"Be brave, Runtar! If they torture you, don't tell them anything!" someone shouted at him. It was probably meant to encourage him, but it only helped to turn his thoughts to subjects he didn't want to think about.
"Where are we going?" he asked nervously as he hurried along the tanned warrior. He had to run to keep up with the taller man's long steps.
"My lord wants to see you," was all Daunus said.
Runtar frowned to himself. So, he would soon meet the mysterious enemy leader who could use magic and who had defeated Uncouthma. The mere thought made him feel a little restless. Someone who had won Uncouthma in battle had to be a fearsome warrior.
The royal castle had changed little from how he remembered it. The only difference he could see was that there were no Odiferian men guarding the entrance. They had been replaced with these dark-skinned foreigners.
The two guards saluted Daunus as he and Runtar made their way past them. Other than that they didn't move or show any sort of emotion. Runtar considered it surprisingly efficient. When it came to barbarians, you could read them like an open book. He had always been able to tell if a guard was having a bad day just by looking at his face.
Daunus led him to the great hall where the throne was. A tall man was sitting on it, resting his hands on the bone armrests. The throne had been made for Uncouthma, so the stranger looked small, almost childlike, on it.
"Excellent, General," the man said. He clapped his hands twice. "You may leave us."
"As you wish," Daunus said with a bow and retreated.
Runtar observed the man sitting in front of him. The man wasn't quite as tall as most barbarians, nor did he have the strongest build in the world. He reminded Runtar of that cursed Aladdin who had foiled his perfect plan, except that this man's skin was a tad darker. He was dressed in a brown vest and traveller's trousers.
"I'm surprised. You don't look like an Odiferian. Half-breed?" the man asked.
"No," Runtar snapped, slitting his eyes and crossing his arms on his chest. He hated it when strangers assumed that.
"Ah, well. It is of no importance. Let me introduce myself. I am Chadrik the Traveller. I have come here to take over this land and I've succeeded," the man stated matter-of-factly.
"Why Odiferous?" Runtar asked. It couldn't be just power. Wherever this man was coming from, there had to be places closer to his home to be taken over.
"Why not?" Chadrik threw back. "As I'm sure you know, it's a prospering country with a great future. Who wouldn't want to rule it?"
Yes, indeed, Runtar thought to himself. He still hadn't given up his dream of rising to power one day. With him it was different, though. He had no desire to rule anything else, especially something that was very far a way. Odiferous was enough.
Chadrik caressed the yak bone that the throne was made of. "I didn't call you here to talk about my motives," he said.
"Then why did you? I didn't even take part in the battle," Runtar said. He suspected that this Chadrik fellow wanted something of him. Once he found out what it was, it was time to start thinking how to best use it to his advantage.
"Ah, impatient, are we?" Chadrik asked.
Runtar was ready to admit that he did not like this man. He was treating him with the kind of superiority that he couldn't tolerate. To show his displeasure, he straightened his small form and brought a hand to his chest.
"I am Runtar, former advisor of Prince Uncouthma and highly educated in how this country works. Being called here to play verbal games is not what I'd like to do with my time," he said, using all his arrogance to present himself.
Chadrik smiled a little at that, but it was not a mocking gesture. "Exactly," he said and sounded like a very pleased man. "That is why I wanted to see you." He took in the confused expression on Runtar's face and continued, "You see, even though I have this country under my control, I realise that it won't last long. I need to strengthen my hold and for that I need someone who knows the local culture."
"And why would I help you?" Runtar asked. He had to admit that the stranger wasn't stupid. If anyone wanted to keep the hot-headed barbarians at bay, they had to break their spirit and make sure there was nothing for them to fight for.
"If you accept a post as my advisor for the time being, you will of course be given your freedom and full liberties at everything. You would be one of my highest officials and have the kind of power that you've never even dreamed of," Chadrik said.
Runtar snorted at that. If Chadrik knew that he had wanted -- and tried -- to take over Odiferous himself, he wouldn't have tried such cheap talk with him. Still, under the cliché glamour there was actually a point. If he refused, he would go right back to the cell, or worse, and never accomplish any of the things he had wanted from his life.
"You do realise that you're asking me to betray my people and home country?" he asked. Not that he hadn't done that already.
"Don't make it sound that bad. What I'm planning to do with this country will be better for everyone in the long run. Look at this." Chadrik sniffed to himself and pointed at the hall. The stone walls and floor were rough, and one could easily see hammer marks in them. The furniture was made of old wood, some of which was splintering and darkened by countless years of use. Weapons and stuffed animal heads, mainly yaks and wild goats, decorated the walls.
Runtar didn't see anything wrong with the interior. "Your point?" he asked.
"This is the most uncivilized place I have seen in my life! In my country even the filthiest bars don't look like this, and this is supposed to be the royal throne room!" Chadrik snapped. "What I'm going to do is to change everything. I will make Odiferous a country where senseless violence is no longer looked up to, where art and science will be appreciated, and where people will be judged by their intelligence, not by brutal strength!"
Alright, Runtar was surprised by that. Having grown up as a barbarian among barbarians, he knew exactly how impossible such a task would be to finish. Yet, wasn't that what he had wanted, minus the art and science nonsense? Part of the reason why he had attempted his takeover was that he had wanted to show everyone that he could do things other than talk big and hand out advice that was often overlooked.
"That is not going to work," he announced. Odiferians had traditions dating back centuries and they were some of the most stubborn people in the world. They would not just stand by and watch how their entire culture was twisted into something different.
Chadrik chuckled at that. "Don't be so sure. I am not going to just announce that things are changing. I will twist the barbarians' minds so that they will go happily along with me. For that I need you. You know these people, their customs, and how their minds work."
In Runtar's opinion, it was useless to even attempt changing the way Odiferians were. Still, he mused, some minor changes might be possible. Anything was better than the brutal society they had now and if he could get power in the process of changing some of that, who was he to argue?
"Alright," he agreed with a wicked grin. "Count me in."
Surprisingly enough, Chadrik didn't want to start plotting their plan right away. According to his own words, he wanted to see to that his quarters were furnished in a way that didn't make him want to claw his eyes out.
Runtar couldn't understand what was wrong with a stuffed goat head, but he was happy about the turn of events in any case. It gave him time to do something that he had wanted to do ever since he had been imprisoned.
He headed out to the fields outside the city. It was where the herds of yaks pastured. The big and hairy animals were the most respected creatures Odiferians could think of, and it was a tradition that every family had to have at least one. For a man of any social class it was almost a responsibility to own one of the mighty animals.
Runtar looked around in the grassy fields. It looked like the swift battle hadn't affected the yaks at all. They were animals that didn't get scared easily (if one didn't count spiders) and Runtar suspected they would remain at their spot even if the rest of Odiferous went down.
"Zebu!" he called for his yak. One of the guards at the prison had told him that the small yak had been taken to live with a little herd. In any other country the companion of a traitor would have been slaughtered, but Odiferians felt too strongly about the bond between a barbarian and his yak to do that.
One of the other yaks lifted their head to glance at him. Then it returned to eating, obviously deciding that this little man was of no interest. Other yaks didn't even do that as Runtar walked among them, looking for his friend.
There was a shrill moo somewhere behind him, and he turned around. It was impossible for him to see over the tall animals, so all he could do was to wait for Zebu to find him. It didn't take long for the yak to locate the whereabouts of his master.
Zebu let out another happy moo and jumped at him. For a moment they were a mixed heap of limbs, black fur and hooves. Zebu managed to give Runtar one lick to the face before the barbarian pushed the yak off.
"Control yourself, Zebu," he said sternly as he stood up and brushed dust off his tunic. The yak mooed at him, and Runtar stroked the animal's head. "Alright, I'm happy to see you, too."
They started getting back to the city, Runtar telling Zebu what had happened and the yak happily jumping along. The closer to the city they got, the more obvious it became that things were not well in Odiferous. The people they passed were grim and silent, and many looked ready to kill anyone who dared to cross their path. Even the yaks they met looked like the world was about to end.
It must be because of Uncouthma, Runtar realised. He remembered how helpless the barbarians in the prison had felt due to their inability to do anything without risking the life of their ruler. Odiferians were proud people and just sitting back and watching how their country was taken over had to be painful. Still, their loyalty to their Prince and his life were valued more.
"Things will start changing now," he told Zebu. He was still having doubts about Chadrik's plans, but he was ready to see what would happen.
"Moo?" Zebu asked in confusion and Runtar smiled at the yak.
"Oh, just wait and see. At least this time there are no annoying foreigners to foil the plan," he said, thinking back to how Aladdin and friends had ruined his well-plotted scheme. He had lost because of magic, but this time the only magic-user was on his side.
His house was on the edges of the city. From outside it was impossible to tell that it belonged to the smallest man in Odiferous, as it was the same size than all the surrounding buildings. It was built of rough stone and dark wood. Nobody had been living in it during his imprisonment, and the thatched roof looked like it was in need of repairs. He decided to do something about it once he had more time.
"Hey, Runtar!" someone called before they had time to enter. Runtar turned around to face Garean, one of his neighbours.
"Yes?" he asked, not sure what the old blacksmith's intentions were.
"I thought you were in prison. What happened?" Garean asked and scratched his bare chin.
"Oh, that. The new ruler let me go, probably to make more room for our warriors," Runtar replied.
"Yes, I can see why he wouldn't think it would be worth the trouble to keep you locked up," the old blacksmith said. "Have you already heard about Uncouthma?"
Runtar frowned a little at the comment about him. "I heard he went down, but not much else," he said.
Garean shook his head to himself and sighed. "It wouldn't be such a bad thing if he hadn't been defeated by magic. You at least tried to use mortal ways to do that, but this new fellow is a coward who hides behind magic," he said. "Such a shame to see someone like Prince Uncouthma defeated like that. There was no fair battle."
In Runtar's opinion it didn't matter how one destroyed their enemies, as long as the job got done. However, he wasn't about to start an argument with a man who had seen him grow up and was more set in his ways than anyone else in the country.
"What's going to happen to him now?" he asked.
"I don't know. For now Uncouthma is alive and that is the only thing stopping us from barging in there and driving that filth out," Garean said, pointing at the royal castle. His face brightened a little as he turned his attention to Zebu. "Hey, haven't seen you in a while. Here, catch!" He pulled out an onion out of his pocket and threw it at the yak that instantly caught and ate it.
"Don't feed him. Onions give him insomnia," Runtar commented.
"Bah, lighten up a little," Garean remarked.
With that the old blacksmith turned around and entered his house. Runtar snorted and shrugged to himself before doing the same.
"Stupid old man…Come, Zebu," he said before he stepped inside.
To be continued...