The Barbarian’s Tribute (Not-So-Savage Barbarians #1)

Two

“ R ath. You’re needed outside,” my clan brother Verus said as he poked his head into my tent. I’d been in the middle of sharpening my blades for the next hunt, and I didn’t immediately look up at him. I hated leaving things half finished.

“Who calls for me?”

“Orthorr,” he answered, his expression curious. He didn’t know for what reason I was being called by the clan leader, only that he was sent to fetch me. I finished my task, sticking the blade back in its sheath on my hip. Pushing to my feet, I stretched my muscles. I assumed if the clan leader wished to speak with me, it was for a fight. I was one of the biggest in the clan, the best hunter, and I was called upon to assist in guarding or fighting if the fighters of the clan were outnumbered. It didn’t happen often, but they had gone out to gather the newest batch of women for the clan. Perhaps a town had finally gotten brave enough to refuse them.