48. Conflict (above)

The meal was a bit of a mixed bag, and I hadn't expected so many people, but I was glad that there was enough preparation, that Kurtz had hunted enough game, that Kiger had asked Singh to bring a pocketful of wheat flour, and that there was even a simple wooden table and light reclining chairs placed not far from the cooker. While the cooking was going on, all of these people were nowhere to be found, but when the smell of the food wafted away, so many came.

While Kurtz was discussing with me whether or not to add more dried vegetables to the roast pork, Fred appeared beside Singh, his leather armour still covered in grass clippings, his muddy shoes, his hair a mess like a bird's nest, long unkempt and looking bad, his face a touch tired, a few wrinkles on his sagging skin, and I could even see the blood under his eyes.

I looked up at Uncle Fred and jokingly said, "Hey Fred, it looks like you're not fit to be doing the heavy lifting of pitching tents anymore, you should leave them to the younger guys, you should sit down and have a little hot soup."

The wooden table was laden with plates, thanks to the generous support and patronage of Singh, who arrived a little late but was clearly much more efficient than Katrina, not only in finding us a simple and convenient table and chairs, but also in preparing some simple cutlery. Already there were ready braised hooves and crystal elbows on the table, fastened up with silver semicircular covers so that they wouldn't get cold too early and affect the taste. I wanted to put in a little more of the dried beans and dried aubergines that Kuzi had thought I was making into herbs, but I didn't realise I was going to put these dark, dry and bitter things into the roast meat; he was a meat-eater and insisted I spoil such a delicious pot.

The orcs have a strange rule that they like to cook meat and vegetables separately, like stewing meat, never adding any vegetables to it, and cooking vegetables with very little meat and at most some animal fat. But at my insistence, Kurtz eventually gave in and I had to choose between dried string beans and dried aubergine, fine.

Katrina and Gogo were also curious and looked our way from time to time, and when they saw us pulling dried herb-like things out of our pockets, cleaning them and throwing them into the meat pot, they also kept talking to each other in the background, thinking that the food culture of the orcs was unfathomable. Kurtz kept glaring at me with his eyes at such denigration of the orcs, something Kurtz and I had agreed not to defend, no matter what anyone said about the dishes we cooked. It was then that I feared that if it became known that these cooking methods were of my note, I might be dissected and studied on a lab bench as if I were a guinea pig. In another iron pan, American-style patties and pork ribs were half-smoked and half-grilled, marinated in seasoning and cooked to a delicious browned, crisp, grease-free finish. There are also chopped chicken pieces on the chopping board and vermicelli noodles soaking in a copper pot.

Kurtz always had the idea to cook the vermicelli with the whole chicken, he always thought I could create something out of the blue and as a partner he had some talent for it, so he was eager to try it, I decided not to give him the chance.

Singh moved a cushioned chair to the side for Fred and sat Fred down. Then he ran to the side, took a hot towel and wiped the middle-aged man's face, carefully dusted him off, and knelt down to wipe his shoes. Uncle Fred saw me busy and said to me from the sidelines, "Ja, you look like you're recovering fast and looking good."

I smiled and said, "I had hoped to be able to learn a little more from you before I entered the Pai plateau, but it seems that plan will have to be postponed."

"Oh, are you going to follow the adventuring group on a hunt in the wastelands too?" Hearing me say that, Uncle Fred frowned a little and seemed not very approving, "This hunt is not like the Star Lake grassland, your physical strength may not be able to keep up with the pace of the adventuring group."

He merely didn't explicitly say that I was a drag and that no adventuring group would be willing to take a small child like me on a hunt on the Pai plateau.

Kurtz twisted his head and replied honestly, "The two of us, us brothers together."

The little orc crouched slightly before he could put his arm around my shoulders, his speech was clumsy but understandable to all and you could hear the strong affection in the words. It was only because he had been hanging out with Uncle Fred for so long that he was willing to strike up a conversation with him. If it had been anyone else, even Sister Gogo who had picked up the short proclaimed axe for us on the battlefield, he would have refused to say more than a word.

"Che, your worn out hunter's bow, do you think you can shoot through the throat of a magic antelope?" Uncle Fred snickered nonchalantly at Kuz, the middle-aged uncle who had always spoken in a very impulsive tone but with a very kind heart, trying not only to remind us of the absurdity of our decision but to disabuse us of the impracticality of the idea of a prepubescent half-orc child taking a small human child just into the wilderness to hunt demon antelope? Is that really what it means to treat the wilderness in the northern foothills of the Pai plateau as your own backyard?

"We already have enough money to buy an ironwood bow." Kurtz argued.

Uncle Fred sat back in his chair with a big grin and a rare look of tenderness in his eyes; the middle-aged uncle had been through so many ups and downs that it was hard for anything to move him for anything anymore, and he took Singh's long goose neck in one hand and kissed her on the forehead. Singh pushed Fred away quickly but anyone could have seen the sweetness in her eyes and could see that this normally smart and strong woman could still be shy when she met love around the corner. Uncle Fred smiled smugly and ran his hand over the beard on his mouth for a moment before saying, "How many strokes can you make with an ironwood bow with your arm strength? How about a naiad bow, not so hard, with feathered arrows made of fine iron clusters, but just enough to pierce the chest and belly as well as the neck of a demon antelope, which is the weakest part of its hide?"

"A Natty bow can kill a demon antelope?" I couldn't help but be intrigued, knowing that the naiti bow was a short bow, far easier to carry than a long bow like the ironwood bow, and as Uncle Fred had said, softer and with a little less pull, except that it had always been thought that only the ironwood bow and above could shoot through the skin of a demon antelope.

Uncle Fred nodded affirmatively and said, "As long as you don't pick on the chiefs and mutated ones, you can pretty much shoot through the rest. The arrow clusters must be sharpened and the tail feathers should not be too long, otherwise it will affect the speed of the arrow."

Kurtz and I looked at each other and decided that maybe we should get a similar Neti bow that might suit us better. We spent a lot of time with Uncle Fred and got together to talk about a lot of things. Uncle Fred rubbed his cheeks with both hands to refresh himself a bit, then said, "I've been harnessing the Thunder Rhino these days, and even though I have the help of old Kru, I feel a bit too old to really carry it, it's too draining."

"What, is Santo dead?" I said in surprise, then thought about those hundreds of dwarven bandits sneaking up on me, how could anyone not die? I laughed to myself at how I was still surprised to hear that someone I knew around me had died when I hadn't also climbed out of a ghostly grave. Santo was the master of the thunder rhinoceros we were riding with, but he was a little more arrogant, preferring to stay in their little group of master, not hostile to the orcs, but always with an unexplained arrogance, which was baffling. When he heard the news of his death at this time, there was some discomfort in his heart.

Uncle Fred nodded and said with a gloomy look, "Two dozen people died that time, and more were injured. Luckily old Kulu's herbs worked well and the number of dead didn't increase again."

Later we talked about Uncle Ann and heard that he too had been slashed in the back in the chaos of the battle; he hadn't had the luck of Kurtz, who dodged the fatal blow with only a flesh wound, but his whole body had been split in half diagonally and his intestines had come out, killing him instantly. When all was said and done, Uncle Fred saw that my face was a little pale and was reluctant to say any more.

With Singh's help, there was no need for Kurtz and I to work on our hands and knees. Although she too was new to the way we were preparing the dishes, she soon got the idea and took Katrina with her. Singh was over 180cm tall and well-proportioned, with somewhat broad shoulders, which made her otherwise magnificent breasts look less obvious against the wide skirt, and her waist, without an ounce of excess fat, looked powerful, so whatever she was doing was nimble and didn't look stupid.

Sister Gogo was reading a spell book on the grass to one side when someone tapped me on the shoulder from behind me, startling me. My senses had been growing lately, perhaps as a result of the last battle, and my sense of hearing, sight and smell was so sharp that it was difficult for anyone to approach me so silently, so I was startled like a bunny when someone tapped me on the shoulder.

Strongbach's deep, thick voice came from behind me, "Hey, boy, you look like you're recovering nicely! Is that the power of orcish healing?"

I turned around only to see Strongbach standing behind me with Tia, Strongbach's big bear-like hands were resting on my shoulders, his eyes were firm and focused, and his well-defined face had the stinking virtue of honour and faith on it, I didn't care for his aristocratic demeanour, and I had to say that Strongbach looked far more stable and aristocratic in this iron man look than Daj did. Even if he was wearing nothing more than a simple white shirt and leather vest and breeches, just looking at his very neatly groomed beard and the broad-bladed short sword at his waist, he looked eminently distinguished.

Tia, on the other hand, looked a little dishevelled, with bandages on his body and head, and it was clear that he had been badly wounded. But while it might have been an honour for a scout to die in the front line, it was a serious dereliction of duty to return wounded like that and not release the signal arrow that would have sealed the fate of the entire caravan when it mattered most.

"Maybe so, or maybe it's because I'm recovering better, Sensei Jumbach." I said half-jokingly.

Jambach chuckled and said, "It seems life in the caravan has whitened your skin. But you'll have to keep practising, a true warrior can assume a defensive stance at any time."

I said in a rush, "I will do as you say, Sensei Jambach."

Then looking up at Tia, I asked him with a smile, "Brother Tia, don't you need to stay on our Thunder Rhino for two days this time?"

Tia was a little embarrassed at my words that were tinged with dark sarcasm. Sister Gogo came over to me at this point and pulled me to her side, glaring at me before she said to Strongbach and Tia, "You guys sit down for a while, there should be two more dishes left to be prepared."

The caravan had suffered a bit of a loss this time from the sneak attack by the Dwarven bandits. Kurtz was even more displeased with the forward scouting party, and although only Tia came back alive from this party and all the rest were killed in the ambush, it still didn't change Kurtz's mood. The axe wound on his chest that would have been opened if it had been just a centimetre deeper and the fact that I had walked on the edge of life and death had left a lump in the little orc's heart for Tia. I was of the same opinion as Kurtz that the forward scouting party had a lot to answer for in causing us to almost die, and that Tia, as the only survivor, needed to bear our wrath, even if he was a true ranger.

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