Chapter 15
The wind tore at Nargol’s hair. She and Makhel rode hard across the darkening plains. The horizon bled into dusk behind them. Torch’s hooves struck the earth with rhythmic fury. Every impact vibrated up through her bones, a war drum calling her to violence.
She did not speak.
She couldn’t.
If she opened her mouth, the rage inside her would spill out like blood flowing from an artery wound.
Makhel’s shukan kept pace beside her. Their animals were breathing heavy, but they kept up the pace their riders set. The distance between her and Makhel was small, but it felt cavernous. The air was heavy.
Orlena.
The name alone burned inside Nargol’s chest.
Her jaw tightened until her tusks pressed into the inside of her lip. The metallic taste of blood grounded her, anchored her fury and rage into something sharp.
Alive.
At least her mate was still alive.
But yet, even though she was alive, she’d been taken.
That truth sat in Nargol’s chest, a blade that refused to be pulled free.
If she could have switched places with Orlena, she would have without hesitation.
It should have been her. She held more value being the daughter of the chieftain, but they didn’t want her.
They’d kept Orlena because they knew they could get what they wanted out of Nargol if they held Orlena over her.
By the time the inn came into view, Nargol’s silence had hardened into something quite dangerous. It had been a long time since she had fallen into this darkness. The lanterns outside flickered in the evening wind, casting long, wavering shadows.
Torch slowed the second she tugged the reins. The shukan snorted as if sensing the storm residing inside her. She dismounted in one smooth motion.
Makhel slid down moments later.
“Nargol—”
Nargol walked past her. Inside the inn, the scent of stale ale and smoke greeted her. The low murmur of voices dimmed, and a few patrons glanced up from their cups. Nargol ignored them. She walked past and climbed the stairs two at a time.
Their room door creaked as she pushed it open. The space was crammed, sparse and suffocating. It was nothing like the warm home located in the human quarters. A small cabin that had been decorated and made to feel welcoming.
Nargol’s hands curled into fists.
She did not move from where she stood.
Memories came of that morning when she’d woken up with her limbs tangled with Orlena’s. Her woman’s body had been soft and warm underneath the covers they had shared. Instead of returning to the comfort, she stood in a tiny room in an inn while her mate was goddess only knows where.
In her mind, she plotted—tracking, supplies she’d need, weapons…
Mahkel entered behind her and immediately began moving. She crossed to her bed where her satchel was waiting. She yanked it open and stuffed her belongings inside it. She was preparing to leave.
To retreat.
Nargol watched in silence. Minutes passed before the other orc paused. She turned and glanced at Nargol. Her gaze swept the room once, then returned to Nargol.
“You are not packing.” Makhel sighed.
Nargol did not answer. She couldn’t. If she did, words that shouldn’t come out of her mouth would pour.
Makhel’s expression tightened. “Nargol.”
The air thickened. She stepped closer to Nargol and lowered her voice. It was edged with plenty of tension.
“Please say something.”
“I am thinking.” Nargol exhaled slowly. She already had plans in her mind of where she was going to go next.
“Thinking?” Makhel barked a humorless laugh. She gestured to the untouched items on Nargol’s bed. “We are leaving. We need to ride for Udenia so we can tell your father everything. We can now report to him who is behind everything then we will return with an army.”
Nargol shook her head slowly.
“No.”
Makhel grew still, narrowing her amber eyes on Nargol. “What did you say?”
“I said no,” Nargol said. “You will ride to Udenia.”
“And you?” Makhel canted her head to the side. Her expression gave away that she already knew the answer to the question she’d asked.
“I will not be leaving here.”
Silence detonated between them. Makhel flew over to Nargol with a determined expression.
“You cannot be serious.”
“I’m dead serious. My mate has been taken. Do you truly think that I would leave her?”
“And you think charging along into whatever traps they will lay for you is wise?” Makhel shot back.
“I think…” Nargol dropped her voice into something dangerously calm.
She knew exactly what she was going to do.
She was a trained warrior. Better than any of the ones who pledged themselves to Cardu or Grat and Hagu.
Makhel did not need to worry about her. “That every moment we waste riding to Udenia is a moment too long for Orlena to be in the enemy’s hands. ”
Nargol closed the gap between them. There was nothing this orc—her friend—would be able to do to keep her from going after Orlena.
Makhel was sadly mistaken if she thought she would be able to convince Nargol otherwise.
Makhel searched her face then—and whatever she saw made her expression shift from curiosity to alarm.
“You have that look in your eye.” Makhel sighed.
“What look?” Nargol arched an eyebrow.
“The one you get before you go and do something reckless and violent.”
Nargol didn’t deny it. Her friend knew her only too well. Was what she was planning considered reckless? Possibly. Was the violence needed? Most definitely.
Sometimes, the only way to get a point across was with violence. These orcs they were dealing with, that was going to be the only way they were going to understand one thing.
Don’t feck with the Cydassis.
“Listen to me,” Makhel dragged her fingers through her hair. “We know who is behind this. We have a list of names we will take to your father. Now we know that the trolls are involved, we have to bring backup. If Rujin is coming, going after your mate isn’t a rescue mission. It would be suicidal.”
“I’m aware of exactly what it means,” Nargol hissed.
“Then act like a warrior and know that you need more warriors with you. This isn’t something you can do alone.”
“Then you need to leave now.” Nargol didn’t mince her words.
She was not leaving her mate at the hands of those orcs. If Makhel wanted to bring backup, then she’d better hurry. Nargol was not going to sit around and allow those orcs to do whatever they damn well pleased with Orlena.
“You are going to get yourself killed. Then where will that leave your woman?” Makhel snapped.
It was easy to see the warrior was getting pissed off at Nargol.
Good, then if she doesn’t want anything to happen to her, she will ride swiftly back to Udenia.
“If Yambul wants to align with Rujin, what better offering than a human tied to an orc warrior with noble lineage? My family’s lineage. You know the history between Rujin and my family.”
Makhel paled. She swallowed hard. It was a known fact that there was no love lost between the orcs and trolls and even less between Tulak and Rujin.
“You think they will trade her to Rujin?”
“I know he will,” Nargol snarled. She hated everything about the way that orc treated her mate. Orlena worked seven days a week for that male who didn’t even appreciate what she’d done for him. She was nothing better than a—
Nargol couldn’t even bring herself to think of the word.
“Then all the more reason for us to go and gather an army!”
“And leave her there?” Nargol’s voice was sharp as a blade. “Bound. Afraid? Waiting for a fate that would be worse than death while I ride in the opposite direction? I will not abandon her!”
Makhel flinched. “You will not be—”
“I am not going to stand here and argue with you. We do not have time. My mate does not have time.” Nargol’s chest heaved once, then steadied as she breathed out slowly, trying to get control of her emotions.
“The larger threat remains. If Rujin comes to Aghon, someone must remain here. Someone must watch. Track. Prepare. Stop him.”
“You cannot go against— Nargol. That in itself would be suicide,” Makhel whispered.
“You think so little of me that you think I am not powerful enough to go against the troll warlord?” Nargol’s lips cracked into her infamous smile.
Her sister hated when she smiled during battle.
She said it made her look a little deranged.
Well, maybe she wasn’t too far off the mark.
They were all about to see how crazy she truly was.
“You plan to kill them all. The ones holding your mate?”
It was then Nargol moved. She went over to bed where her satchel sat and picked it up. There were more weapons in it as well as supplies she hadn’t needed since being in the village. She hefted it up onto her shoulder with her bow. Her smile stretched from ear to ear.
“If they stand in my way of my mate, then yes.”
There would be no hesitation. No doubt. Makhel sighed again and ran a hand over her face.
“I will ride to Udenia and tell your father everything,” she said.
“And you will return with an army,” Nargol said. A small twinge of relief entered her chest, sliding under the rage that filled her.
Makhel went over and closed her bag and turned back to Nargol.
“I just want you to promise me one thing.” Makhel walked over to the door. Her hand paused on it, and she looked over her shoulder at Nargol.
Nargol arched an eyebrow.
“Do not die before I get back,” she said.
For the first time since Orlena had been taken, something almost like dark humor flickered through Nargol.
“I make no promises,” she said honestly.
“Of course you don’t,” Makhel groaned.
They left the room together. They didn’t bother checking out of the inn. Their lack of return should be enough. Outside, the tension in the air was palpable. Orcs lingered outside, pretending not to watch. Conversations hushed. Eyes followed them as they arrived back to their shukans.
Nargol’s gaze swept the area. Suspicion burned in her gut. Who among them knew what was going on here in this village? Were they all hoping to be spared by Rujin? Who among them had helped with the insurrection? Who was helping bring the troll warlord here? She would find out.
Eventually, everything that was done in the dark would be brought to light.
Torch lifted his head the moment he saw her. His ears flicked forward. He stomped once, the impatient beast. His powerful muscles rippled underneath his thick coat.
Nargol pressed her forehead briefly to his.
“We ride, my friend,” she murmured.
Makhel mounted first. They faced each other one last time beneath the dim glow of lantern light.
“This is where we part,” Makhel said quietly.
“For now,” Nargol replied.
“Bring her back,” Makhel said.
“I will.”
Or she would die trying. Neither of them said the words aloud. Makhel turned her beast toward the eastern road without another word and kicked her shukan into a hard gallop. She vanished swiftly into the deepening night. Nargol watched until she disappeared completely.
Nargol swung into Torch’s saddle and urged him forward.
In the opposite direction.
Toward the forest.
Toward the hunt.
Torch surged ahead eagerly as if he, too, understood the urgency burning in her veins. The forest loomed ahead with a wall of shadow and ancient trees. The canopy swallowed moonlight, and the air cooled sharply when they crossed the threshold into the wilderness.
Here the land would speak to her.
And she would listen.
She slowed Torch once they were deep within the trees and away from the village. She guided him along narrow paths instead of the main trails. Night creatures stirred. The scent of damp earth and moss filled her lungs.
This was familiar. It was almost comforting yet primal. Being one with the land was not new to her. It was instinct. Part of her training.
She rode deeper still until the village’s sound was nothing but a distant memory. Only then did she dismount and lead Torch into a concealed hollow between thick-rooted trees and a jutting rock face.
Perfect. They were hidden, and this place was defensible. She removed the saddle and allowed him to graze quietly. She crouched near the ground, her fingers brushing the soil. A slow, predatory smile stretched her lips.
She was now in her element.
“They will not be easy to find,” she murmured.
Torch snorted softly. She rose and rolled her shoulders. Tension was coiled tight inside her chest. It wasn’t weakening her but making her stronger.
If they thought they could take her mate and disappear into the shadows…they were fools.
Her hand drifted down to the hilt of her weapon on her waist.
“I’m coming, Orlena,” she whispered.
The trees stood silent witness to her oath.
And somewhere out there, beyond the trees, enemies breathed their last peaceful breaths, unaware that a furious orc warrior had vanished into the wild.
Unaware that she was coming for them.
And when Makhel returned with an army, there would be war.
But before the armies marched.
Before her father arrived, before the world knew what was coming…
Nargol would find her mate.
And there would be nothing, no orc, no troll, no troll warlord, and no force in Aghon itself who would stand in her way.