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I never cared for any of that before. But it also means I am back to a realm where I still don’t have many friendlies. I didn’t care before because I knew I was to be their King whether they liked it or not, but maybe now it matters.
I still don’t care for their opinions, but I can’t hide from the fact that it’s not only me now and Aria may feel different. She may want to belong, and our children will probably want to belong too.
As much as I hate it, I will need to try and gather allies. Aria won’t have a pleasurable experience if everybody hates us. And loyalty isn’t one of those things one can conjure with their fists and their bruteness. I may need to try some diplomacy.
I wonder if my mother still feels the same about it though. And I wonder what her assessment of me will be. Will she think I matured, or she will think I’m still the same violent disappointment?
I arrive at the top of the mountain where all our disputes are solved. Mother is already here and my uncle, Gremlo is on her right. The ring is already drawn, and four poles with large lamps are standing as pillars outside the circle.
A few other spectators are here already but I don’t think everyone is. I cross the barrier of the circle and approach my mother and uncle. My uncle is wearing the tribal King’s skin made of the extinct dragon skin and his crown of bones and my mother stands next to him like she is his Queen.
I quip an eyebrow.Is my mother married to my uncle?Two more females stand five feet from my mother, and I notice one of them is a Bono orc. Not just that but the two females next to my mother also wear ceremonial Queen skins.
Are they also my uncle’s mates? I look around and I see another green spring amongst those waiting on the edges waiting for the battle to begin so they can approach.
I stand before my uncle who I suppose is King now and my mother. I remember when I thought my mother would never replace my father. But not only did she replace him, she replaced him with his own brother. It seems there is a lot I need to get reacquainted with. Like why we have Bonos in our tribe.
“Uncle, mother.” I don’t bow or lower my head. I don’t know why I get the sense to remind them that where they are standing is my place. I may not have specific intentions of leading this tribe because my first priority is Aria and my children, but I have no intention of submitting to another either.
I see my uncle’s jaw tick and his tusks press hard on his lips. My mother on the other hand just hardens her face. My mother was always someone hard to get a reaction from. You’d only know of her thoughts once she starts talking.
“Igor of Zad.” My uncle speaks. “We see you.”
“I see you.” I respond.
“The time for your banishment isn’t over. You still have two more weeks. Why have you breached the barrier early?” He asks.
“The rune dictated the time of my banishment, uncle. Isn’t that right, mother?” I remind them. It’s a technicality.
His face hardens. “Very well. You know the law of reentering the community.”
I nod.
“What value do you bring to the horde?” His voice is authoritative and strong.
“I heard you have a war, and you may need the Impaler.” I am not sure of course, but our kind is always on impending war, and I doubt that would change in a hundred years.
He scoffs and I see a hint of a smirk in my mother’s features. I see a grin in my peripheral from the Bono.
My uncle’s gaze travels my body and I see a touch of a smirk on him. He doesn’t think I can win with my body so battered.
“Very well. May the gods be with you.” He says, as is customary. “Your Queen will announce the tribe’s champion.” He looks to my mother.
“Igor of Zad, you have returned after banishment to the human realm. What have you learned?” My mother questions.
“I have a family,” I say simply. It might not mean much to many, but my mother knows exactly what it means.
“We shall see about that,” she pauses. “The champion of the tribe is Todo, son of Gremlo.”
I hear happy murmurs and I retreat to the middle of the circle. Last time I saw Todo, he was barely a spring orc. I hear growls and the spectators come closer. The sun is now orange on the horizon.
I inhale the morning air as I prepare to face my opponent. I hear heavy footsteps coming from the stairs. Was he waiting there all this time to make an entrance?
The crowd parts and a massive orc makes its acquaintance with my eyes. He is half a foot taller than me and is hunched by the stony muscles of his shoulders. He looks like a sheer beast. An orcish destroyer.
He comes in the circle, flexing his shoulders. I don’t move an inch as he comes closer staring down at me, attempting to put fear in me. I just look at him, not flinching. I am currently standing at the center, and I don’t move at all.
A tactic to test if he uses his brain in warfare or if he over relies on his strength. To be an effective destroyer, one needs to not only rely on brawn but brain too. This was long the hubris of the Bono and why they would lose the wars.
