Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Isadora
“Twenty gold pieces for the lass to become mine.”
Orc.
I stared. I wasn’t the only one staring, but I stared in a mixture of hope and fear.
The male from the dark corner, the one I’d hoped wouldn’t become involved…he was the largest male I’d ever seen. He towered over the men around him, and his shoulders were intimidatingly large…as was his ax.
And the rest of him?
Green, tusked, and …
Orc.
I’d heard the stories, the whispers, about the beasts who lived among the stones, who would cross over at the full moon and steal maidens. I’d dismissed the tales, but now…? Now I couldn’t.
Orc .
Because one of them was staring eye-to-eye with me, his dark eyes menacing and his green skin unmistakable. And his tusks…
Oh God. I shuddered, imagining what kind of horror he could inflict on a woman with those tusks and the dangerous claws at the end of each finger.
Orc. Beast. Fear .
I forced myself to drag in a breath before the edges of my vision went dark.
An orc was standing in the center of the tavern, and all eyes were on him.
Because he just offered twenty gold pieces for you .
I’d never even seen a single gold piece. Until tonight, when Alred bought me from the bandit leader, I’d never seen half a gold piece. And this orc had casually announced he carried twenty with him?
Dragging my gaze away from him, I sought out Verna. She was watching the gathered men with a worried frown, chewing on her lip as she backed away toward the bar. Aye, the men were fingering their blades speculatively, weren’t they?
‘Twas Alred’s greed that broke the silence. “Am I to understand, stranger, that you’re offering twenty gold pieces to buy my new whore from me?”
“No’ a whore,” the orc growled, brows drawn low over his dark stare. “ Mine .”
“Don’t do it, Alred,” came a mutter from the crowd. “He’ll fook her dry, then kill her. It’ll be a waste.”
The tavern keeper’s laugh was a harsh bark. “What do I care? I’ll have twenty gold pieces. You lost your chance, John!”
Before I could process that, Alred reached up and grabbed my braid, which hung down my back, and yanked me from the chair. I stumbled when I hit the ground, my ankle twisting painfully.
Sucking in a gasp at the sharp pain and the sudden shock, my gaze flew to the orc’s. He was watching me, his expression impassive. I didn’t like that look which spoke of always getting his way, and I lifted my hands to my chest to try to tug my bindings back into place for some semblance of modesty.
Alred was having none of it. “Here, slave,” he growled, tugging me by my hair as he walked toward the stranger. “Meet your new master.”
Instinctively, I rebelled, pulling against him, putting weight on my whole ankle. This tugged my braid from his grip, and he scrambled to tighten his hold.
“You bitch ,” he hissed, rounding on me. I expected him to hit me, but instead he pulled out a knife. I flinched back as I saw the orc behind Alred reach for the tavern keeper.
The green beast was too slow. Alred’s blade flashed toward my head even as he yanked me closer…and in a blink, my braid—my golden hair, my one glory—dangled from his hand.
I had no more tears, especially not over something as inconsequential as hair …but I still gasped, lifting my hand to the base of my neck, which now seemed draftier.
He’d cut off my hair, hacked it close to my head so everyone would know my shame.
Gloating, as if knowing what he’d done would hurt me more than a blow, Alred gestured with his knife. “I said , come meet your new master, slave.”
I limped, subdued, in his wake, hearing the angry mutterings around me. From this angle, I saw the coins as they hit the tabletop beside me, one after another, being counted from large green fingers.
One, two, three, four, five…
I straightened, my hand still on the nude back of my neck, and realized the orc was watching me. Not the coins, which he continued to drop.
Six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve…
He cared so little for the gold, he wouldn’t even glance down to watch it leave his possession? Alred, for his part, leapt to gather up each coin, greedily shoving them into his belt pouch.
Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen …
The sound of each coin hitting the wood was like nails being driven into a coffin. My coffin. Suddenly, the thought of losing my virginity to one of these unwashed brutes, of spending the rest of my days whoring upstairs like Verna, didn’t seem so bad.
Seventeen, eighteen …
It sounded better than belonging to an orc.
Nineteen …
An orc who would own me, not just for a night, but for ever ?
Twenty.
Alred made a gleeful little crowing noise from his scrawny chicken neck as he scooped up the last of the coins, and I realized I was staring wide-eyed at the huge stranger who hadn’t taken his impassive gaze from me.
Oh God.
I belonged to him. To an orc .
“Come with me,” he commanded, his voice a gravelly growl, too deep to be considered possible. I gaped as if I didn’t understand.
His hand reached for me, and I’ll confess I flinched back, but that didn’t seem to stop him. He latched onto my arm, but didn’t squeeze like Alred or the bandit had. Instead, his touch ran down my forearm to my hand, engulfing it in his large green one. He held my gaze, his expression neutral and his dark eyes angry, as if he was waiting for me to get used to his touch.
“You’re not going to let him take her?” someone whined in the back. “I was going to come back to have a go at her!”
The orc in front of me ignored the speaker, but his chin dropped slightly, as if he could impress upon me the seriousness of the situation.
“Come with me,” he repeated.
And I nodded, once.
Was it better to stay here, to be forced to whore for all these men? Or to be owned by only one male, a male scarier than any I could’ve imagined?
I had no choice but to limp after him out the tavern door and into the snow.
His hand was warm around mine, and I could admit that, at that moment, ‘twas the only warm part of me. The cold mid-winter air bit into the exposed skin of my chest, and beneath the woefully loosened bindings, my nipples hardened.
I stumbled, my ankle paining me, and the realty of my situation slammed into me.
I couldn’t go with him! I couldn’t be owned by an orc !
Orc. Beast. Fear .
Yanking my arm, I tried to pull my hand from his. It didn’t work, but he did turn around, a questioning scowl on his face.
I don’t know what he saw in my expression, but he blinked, his nose wrinkling in disgust.
“Och, ye’re so small,” he muttered.
When he dropped my hand and lifted his, I’ll confess I flinched back, expecting violence from such a terrifying male. But he merely unclasped the ornate brooch holding his cloak shut and swung it from his shoulders.
Before I could understand what he was doing, he’d wrapped the fur around me, clasping it once more. I clutched at it, desperate to hide my exposed skin from his eyes…and grateful for the warmth.
It carried his heat and smelled of him.
Smelled of him? You know his smell?
No, I didn’t. I didn’t want to. He wasn’t even human!
Orc. Beast. Fear .
But a tiny part of me snarked, Oh, and human men have treated you so well up until now? Mayhap you ought to try something a bit different .
Orc. Beast . . . The fear was easing despite the danger.
A reluctant smirk curled one corner of my lips and I was surprised I could find anything even vaguely humorous about this situation.
Well, God knows your good humor is the only thing you can truly control in this world. Mayhap you should use it.
Oh good. Now I was being lectured by my subconscious.
I blinked up at the strange beast standing under the light of the full moon, wondering if the earlier blow had knocked the sense from my head. Why would I be arguing with myself? Was I actually considering going with him willingly ?
And then the decision was taken from me.
The noise of men spilling from the tavern—mutterings, metal clinking on metal—had the orc and me both turning. A dozen or so men from inside stepped into the snow, fanning out, brandishing weapons and scowling. Likely spurred out into the cold by the thought of being bested by someone with more gold than they’d see in twelve lifetimes, and the loss of the promise of a virgin to bed.
Alred wasn’t to be seen—likely inside counting his money. A horrible person but not a complete idiot.
The beast at my side stepped in front of me, putting his wide shoulders between me and the men as he slid his battleax free.
“Stay behind me,” he muttered. Then, to the men, he called, “What do ye want?”
“We want the whore!” one of them called, while another shouted, “The rest of your gold!”
Yes, ‘twas as I suspected. Gold and cunny. The lure of men.
The orc slid one huge, booted foot in front of the other, finding his stance, and raised his weapon. His ax was larger than any sword I could have imagined, razor sharp on both edges and inscribed with runes along the haft. ‘Twas a terrifying killing tool.
“Make up yer minds,” he growled. “The lass or the gold?”
Would he give me to them to save his gold? Of course he would.
Several of the men exchanged glances.
“The lass or the gold?” one asked the other.
“Both?” another suggested, and a third and fourth nodded firmly.
“Both,” they agreed in unison. All of them turned back to us and raised their weapons.
“Both,” they declared.
“Fook,” the orc sighed. “Well, come on then.”
He seemed resigned, as if he’d known this would happen.
Clutching his cloak around me, I stumbled backward as the men surged forward. Four at a time, each raising nasty-looking blades and mis-matched farming implements. ‘Twas an ill-planned attack if ever I’d seen one.
The orc switched his battleax to one hand, then balled his other into a fist and met them all.
I turned away. I didn’t want to see them die. Mayhap a tiny part of me suggested they deserved whatever fate they chose, but I still didn’t want to see them die. I didn’t want to see him die. My feet were frigid and my ankle still throbbed as I took a few hobbling steps toward the town’s stables.
Could I make it there before the beast noticed I was running…limping…away? Or was dispatched by the unruly mob? Would there be anyone willing to help me escape?
Not in this village.
I glanced back. My eyes widened and I froze.
The orc…wasn’t losing.
Even I, who had been raised in a smithy, and understood weapons only as things which started as lumps of metal and ended as works of art, could see he was a master with his ax.
The huge weapon swung in deadly arcs, mirroring the fan of his kilt as he spun. I expected blood to spray, staining the winter night.
But he turned the edge at the last minute, slamming the flat of it into an unprotected head. Blood sprayed, aye, but only from a broken nose, not a decapitation. At the same time, his other hand reached for a different attacker, curled around the front of the man’s tunic, yanked him into the first until their foreheads collided and they both fell groaning to the ground.
I glanced around at the broken and bleeding—but whole—bodies scattered in the courtyard.
The orc grabbed the last man and, with an almost nonchalant flick of his wrist, sent him slamming into the stone wall of the tavern. Then he turned back to me, sliding his battleax away.
He hadn’t killed any of them. I made a conscious effort to close my dropped jaw.
“Ye’re still here?” he asked, brows lowering in what I thought might have been irritation as he stalked toward me. “I thought ye’d have run for the horses.”
I stumbled back a step, wincing as I put weight on my ankle. “I—I?—”
“What’s wrong with yer foot?”
“My ankle,” I gasped, grateful for the question so I didn’t have to think about the fight I’d just witnessed and his incredible strength.
Orc. Beast. Fear .
I swallowed. “’Tis hurt?—”
My words halted in a squeak when he scooped me up as if I weighed naught and tossed me over one shoulder. I landed with an oof , then tried to twist my upper body away from his back, suddenly afraid of being this high in the air.
“What are you doing? Put me down!”
His hand landed on my arse, holding me in place. Not…cruelly. Just ensuring I didn’t fall off.
He didn’t answer me, but stomped toward the stables. I looked back at the men from the tavern who were groaning and slowly pushing themselves upright.
He hadn’t killed them. He had fought to protect me.
He fought to protect his gold .
Aye, that. But he’d put his body between me and the men who’d wanted to—to take me. And he’d expected me to run away when his back was turned.
He hadn’t killed them.
Orc. Beast .
I didn’t understand him, and I didn’t understand what was going on, so I frowned as he slammed the stable doors open and stomped inside.
There were only a few horses inside because this deep in the winter, most crofters moved their livestock indoors with them as a convenient heat source. But the orc wasted no time in deciding upon the largest animal in the barn.
Oh God. All I knew about horses was they were huge, apparently ate grass, and could break a man’s leg with a kick. Or mayhap they ate legs and broke grass; I was vague on the details.
With a shrug of his shoulder, he tossed me up onto the animal’s back, and I shrieked again, grabbing at the long, flowing hair along the beast’s neck to keep myself from sliding off the other side. The horse made a noise I have to assume meant it wasn’t happy either, then side-stepped. Which caused me to shriek again and throw myself forward, wrapping my arms around its neck and burying my face against the silky strands of hair. Fur. Whatever.
“What are ye doing?” the orc growled.
“Trying not to die,” I snapped back, eyes closed tight. I wrinkled my nose and spat out strings of hair.
But when I glanced at him, ‘twas to realize his eyes were level with mine, and to him, I—and the horse’s back—really weren’t that high after all. Mayhap a fall from this height wouldn’t kill me entirely.
“I’ll get the reins for ye,” he said, and stepped over to where the tack was hung.
He said this as if I knew what rains meant. Oh, they were…leather cordy things?
My expression must’ve given me away.
“Dinnae tell me ye cannae ride a horse?” he growled
I swallowed and looked up from the unfamiliar leather straps. “I have never been on a horse’s back afore.” Why would I? Mistress Smith would hardly have allowed such a freedom.
“Fook,” he muttered again, then glanced upward, as if he could see the full moon through the roof. “Nae time to teach ye.”
“I—I do not need to know how?—”
“How else were ye planning on getting away from that crowd out there? Hobbling through the night?” He scoffed, shaking his head as he turned back to the tack, pulling down mysterious bits of horsey, leathery things. “Without me, they’ll just drag ye back to Alred.”
Without me .
I stared, realizing what he meant.
He was…offering to let me go? That’s why he was surprised—irritated?—I hadn’t run away during the fight? Because he’d always intended for me to go my separate way from him?
He paid twenty gold pieces for me !
I belonged to him—at least, in the eyes of everyone I would meet. Here in the human world.
My head slowly lifted. “I have nowhere to go,” I admitted—heh— hoarsely . “My old mistress sold me…”
He was saddling another animal. “Then ride in the opposite direction.”
“On this horse ?” I held myself still, moving only my lips, afraid that any motion would set the animal moving. “I do not know how to make it…go. Stop. Do aught at all. Do I have to make it turn, or does it do that on its own? Is it a boy? Boys are more difficult, I have heard.”
I saw him freeze. Saw him lower his forehead to the saddle, saw the steam as he breathed out another curse word as if defeated.
Then he swung up into the saddle without speaking to me, and for one terrifying moment I thought he was going to ride off without me.
Then I had another moment where I thought, Did you just think that ? because surely I wanted him to leave me? To go back to his beastly kind and leave me here where I could escape?
But he reached over and wrapped an arm around my waist, lifting me almost gently from my mount, all without giving me another look. He took the reins from my frozen fingers and settled me sideways on his lap.
With a muted, “ Hyah ,” he urged both animals into flight, and we thundered from the stable and into the moonlit night.
I didn’t know where we were going, other than away .
I wasn’t sure if that was good enough.
But I squeezed my eyes shut, wrapped my arms around the big green waist of the orc holding me, and pressed my cheek against his chest. I could hear his heart beating, and after a moment, felt his arm cradling my back, allowing me to relax slightly.
We thundered into the night, my new master and I, while behind us the men began to yell and call for their own mounts.
I don’t know if I was in better hands. An orc’s hands.
But I was his.