Chapter 17
The forest went still after the last arrow flew. Nargol remained crouched high in the branches of the tree she’d hidden in. Her breathing was steady, and her pulse was controlled. The night air carried the scent of the damp earth and blood.
Below her, two orc bodies lay crumpled on the forest floor. They had never seen her.
She had tracked them the moment they’d broken from the camp perimeter and entered the woods. The first one had been muttering something about ale and having to relieve himself. These orcs had not posted guards. They had not been watching their backs. They had believed themselves untouchable.
Nargol had proved them wrong.
They had been arrogant.
Fools.
She had dropped silently from her hiding space when the first one had got near her. He had found a tree to take a piss. Just as he’d lowered his trousers, she’d slid in behind him without him knowing. Her blade had silenced him before he’d had the chance to warn the others.
The second one she’d dismantled before he’d even known what hit him. These orcs were weak. They were no true warriors. If they had been, she wouldn’t have been able to sneak up on them. Even new recruits who she and her sister trained were more aware of their surroundings than this idiot.
Both of the kills had been quick and clean.
The others had been easy shots with her arrows.
A scream pierced the air.
Orlena.
The sound ripped through her like a blade slicing a piece of her heart. Nargol’s control shattered. She slung her bow across her back and slid down the tree. Her boots hit the forest floor without a sound. She withdrew her dagger from its sheath, prepared to engage with the remaining orcs.
She had already taken out half of their numbers.
But it wasn’t enough.
She moved like a shadow. Her training was ingrained into her.
She weaved between the trunks of the trees, stepping where moss would muffle her footsteps.
From her vantage point, she saw the havoc she had caused in the camp.
Orcs scrambled over their dead comrades who had arrows protruding from their bodies.
It was then she saw something that sent chills down her spine.
The women.
They were huddled together in a shallow cave. Rage, unlike anything she’d ever known, clawed its way through her. They had not only taken Orlena but others.
This was the bargaining stock the orcs had boasted about when sitting around a fire. Earlier, while hidden close enough where she could hear, but still remain unseen, she’d listened to their conversations.
Grat had bragged about the new position he would have. Hagu had laughed at him and encouraged him to talk about what he would do when he was promoted to a high-ranking position.
Yambul had mentioned a “new world order” and how he was going to gain great favor with Rujin.
Little did they know that trolls did not care for alliances. They cared for leverage, and apparently, these orcs were going to use the human women for that leverage.
The one orc whose throat she’d slit had mentioned having a great breeding stock to offer.
Now she knew exactly what he’d meant.
Her jaw tightened so hard it ached. She wished she could go and kill him again. This time she’d do it slow and painful instead of quick and painless.
These orcs would hand over their own land to the trolls in exchange for survival. They would trade human women as livestock to secure their place in a society that would crush them.
This was more than rebelling.
This was treason in the highest form.
“Face us like a true warrior!” Hagu’s voice echoed through the air.
Well, it looked as if she was being summoned. Nargol’s lips pulled up into a grin. A calming sensation came over her as she stared out at the frantic orcs. There was no need to wait for an army to take these males on. She could handle them all herself.
She emerged from the tree line without warning.
The remaining orcs barely had time to react before she attacked. Nargol was no stranger to combat. She’d spent most of her life fighting on behalf of her people and for her father.
Tonight, she fought for her mate.
And this made her even deadlier.
One large orc lunged at her. This was one mistake he shouldn’t have made.
Had he had any sense, he would have run away.
Maybe he would have lived to see another day.
She pivoted and drove her dagger into the soft space beneath his arm, ripping it upward.
He screamed and fought to get away, but she held on to him and drove her weapon farther into him.
Warm blood rushed out of the wound and onto her hand and arm, but she ignored it.
She withdrew just in time; another orc swung a deadly mace toward her head. She ducked and rolled across the ground, then came up behind him and slashed the backs of his knees. He dropped with a roar. She ended him immediately once he was on the ground with her dagger deep in his heart.
Footsteps charged toward her. She lifted her head in time to see Hagu racing her way. She grinned and snatched her dagger from the dead male.
“Cydassi whore!” Hagu bellowed.
He held a wickedly gruesome axe. It came down with brutal force. She snatched another dagger from her waist and barely caught the axe with her twin blades. The impact shuddered up her arm.
“You think you can stop us? Stop Rujin? Just you alone?” He snarled. His breath was rancid as he growled. “Your father will kneel to the new king.”
She shoved him back and circled him. Her exhaled and tightened her grip on the daggers.
“My father kneels to no one,” she replied cooly.
Hagu laughed and lunged at her again. Another orc joined him from her left.
Two against one.
She’d faced worse odds.
She welcomed it.
The first swung high with his axe. She jumped out of his reach and twisted way.
She ended up behind him and kicked out. Her foot landed on his back, sending him slamming into Hagu.
They collided into one another, and the minute one turned, she drove forward, slicing him across his neck with her weapon.
She was able to spin away to avoid Hagu’s retaliatory strike.
Her knife slashed out, catching Hagu on his cheek.
He bellowed a roar and pushed the other orc away from him.
The other orc fell to the ground, grasping at his neck, bleeding profusely. Hagu ignored him and stepped over him. He was angry, and anger made warriors extremely sloppy.
“You should have left,” he growled. Blood rushed out of the wound and slid down his face.
“You should have never sided with the trolls. It will be you kneeling at my father’s feet, begging for forgiveness,” she said.
That would only happen if she allowed him to live.
He roared and charged again with his massive axe raised in the air. She stepped aside at the last moment and buried her dagger straight into his heart. His eyes widened in disbelief. She pressed closer to him where he could hear her.
“You will never see Nogora,” she whispered. “Nor will you feast in the Halls of Ironfang.”
Every warrior wished for a warrior’s death and the opportunity to find themselves at Nogora’s side in the afterlife, feasting in the Halls of Ironfang. This was where the strongest warriors were eternally honored.
She released his body and allowed him to fall. He hit the ground with a heavy thud.
Silence fell around the camp. She scoured the area. Bodies were everywhere, but Yambul was gone.
As was Grat.
A growl erupted from Nargol. Her heart thundered. She sprinted over to the cave. The women screamed and shrank back away from her. They were all dirty, looked as if they hadn’t eaten in a few days, and were bound.
“Where did that orc take Orlena?” she demanded. “The other human female. Where did they go?”
One brave soul lifted her hand and pointed in the direction of the mountain. “They went that way,” she whispered.
Nargol followed her finger and released a curse.
“I am not like them,” Nargol said, trying to soften her voice. These women had been through so much. She didn’t want to scare them any more than they already were. “Are any of you hurt?”
Heads shook. They watched her cautiously. She pulled a small dagger from her ankle sheath and handed it to the one who’d spoken.
“Can you free everyone?” Nargol asked.
The woman hesitated first but moved toward her and took the knife. She nodded. “Are you going to get her back?”
“I will, and that orc will pay for taking my mate,” she announced. She straightened to her full height and motioned to them. “If you are able, there is a path that you can take that will lead you down the mountain.”
“Where should we go?” the one who’d taken the knife asked. She cleared her throat and pushed up off the ground.
“Once you reach the bottom of the mountain, follow the sound of rushing water. There is a river. Follow it north until it bends in the shape of a broken tusk. There’s an old hunter’s shelter there that should be safe.
I will have someone come for you.” Nargol had found the place on her way here to the mountain.
It was stocked with necessities for the passing hunter.
It would provide them shelter, food, and water for the night.
“What about those orcs who are out there?” a voice called out from the back of the cave.
The women were now speaking in hushed tones amongst each other. Nargol glanced behind her at the bodies on the ground. She bit back a smile and turned to them.
“They won’t be bothering anyone ever again.” She spun on her heels and took off running in the direction the woman had pointed. Her bow was still strapped to her back, and she had a few more knives hidden on her body. Just in case there were surprises waiting for her.
Up the mountain she headed. Her feet carried her swiftly. She scanned the area and easily found the path that the older orc had taken with her mate. Yambul was not hiding his trail. Broken branches. Scuffed earth.
He was panicking.