7. Vidorak
Chapter seven
Vidorak
There was no fear in the witch’s eyes, only rage. Her pupils disappeared into a sea of gold, and flames erupted at her hands as she stalked angrily toward them.
The witchkind's black markings covered her arms and upper chest. While orc marks were present at birth and didn’t change, he had heard the witches’ marks appeared later and grew as their power developed. And she was more covered than anyone he had ever seen before.
Capturing the wanted witch wouldn’t be easy, but now he wondered whether they had been purposefully set up to fail.
“Spread out!” Jarl Kinar commanded in Orcish.
The four of them encircled her, and Kinar charged forward. He was a massive orc and relied on his size and brute force when fighting. She lashed out with her fire toward the jarl, striking him across the chest. He howled as he faltered in his attack.
However, he was not a jarl because he gave up easily. He unsheathed his dagger and lunged toward her.
For a moment, Vidorak thought he’d see her death brought about by the rash reaction of the orc. But the witch moved quickly, and Kinar struck low, the dagger embedding deep into her thigh. She inhaled sharply and shot her flames at his face.
This brought her reprieve as Jarl Kinar stumbled back, blinded by her attack. Without hesitation, the witch grasped the handle of the dagger and yanked it out in one bloody motion.
“I have no business with orcs.” She catapulted a ball of fire toward them, and Vidorak dove barely in time. “Leave now, or you will die.”
They needed to end this quickly, or they’d lose their chance. Vidorak reached behind him and took out the magic-nullifying shackles they’d purchased in Ettera.
Her eyes sharpened. “I will melt your face before you even get close enough to shackle me.”
Her fire lashed out like vipers around her, making it difficult to approach. Her weakness was the glances she took over her shoulder to confirm her friend was getting away.
“Pretend to go for the other!” Vidorak shouted in Orcish.
Mabanok feigned charging past the fire witch as if to get to her friend.
Calypso hurled her flames, but he turned at the last second and targeted her instead.
He threw his hands up to block her fire from his face.
Going against instinct, Mabanok stepped into the blast and closed the distance between them.
Then, he kicked her hard in the chest, sending her flying backward.
“Grab her!” Mabanok bellowed.
Seeing the trajectory, Vidorak rushed forward and caught her before she hit the ground. She struggled in his hold, punting her head back and slamming it into his nose.
Flames wrapped around his arms, blistering them in their path. He grimaced but persisted in restraining her. Her fury was not enough to overcome his strength, and he grabbed her wrists, yanking them back and clicking the shackles into place.
Instantaneously, the fire surrounding her extinguished. They had purchased the shackles from a trusted source of his, but one could never be too sure with goods from Ettera.
The flooded appearance of her eyes disappeared as if she’d suddenly surfaced from drowning. Now there was just a golden ring of color around her stunned pupils. Her surprise was temporary and quickly shifted to rage. She kicked him like a hellcat, ignoring her restraints.
Vidorak tugged the chain, spinning her, and her front slammed into his chest.
She tilted her head back, eyes still blazing with rage. “You will regret this.”
Before he could respond, Kinar barreled forward and slammed his elbow across her head. The force was so great that Vidorak felt the impact. The small witch lost consciousness and fell limp in his arms.
One moment, he was holding her, and the next, Vidorak pressed a knife to Kinar’s throat.
“You attack your jarl?” Kinar snarled. “Think about what you are doing.”
The surrounding air was tense as the other two orcs cautiously observed.
Vidorak stared at the orc before him, blisters already forming across Kinar’s face where the fire struck him. “I am. We were instructed to bring her back alive. You risk the treaty with your foolishness.”
Kinar narrowed his eyes and grunted, “Fine. But pull a knife on me again, and I’ll plunge it into your heart. Chieftain’s nephew or not.”
Reluctantly, Vidorak pulled back and walked away, returning to see Grorn carrying the unconscious witch over his shoulder.
When Grorn sat the woman in front of him on his horse, Vidorak felt the sudden urge to snatch her away from the other orc. “She will break your nose when she wakes. Secure her on the back of the horse.”
Grorn looked at her suspiciously, then asked, “Should I tie her to your horse?”
The thought of having the feisty witch near him was unsettling.
“No,” he ground out, cursing himself for not returning to the mountain after the meeting with Von Ahlen.
The fire-haired witch was now hogtied on the back of Grorn’s horse and not touching the other orc. They rode into the woods, leaving the small town unimpeded. It would take a fortnight to reach Sanograd as most of their trek would avoid the commonly traveled routes.
They were deep in the woods when he felt her groan awake. To his surprise, she didn’t scream or cry or yell obscenities. He begrudgingly respected her brave resolve when most would’ve been frightened out of their minds.
She quietly observed, and Vidorak felt the heat of her stare when it landed on him. He turned to meet her eyes. The hardness on her face promised revenge, and he was certain this docile act was just to bide her time.
When the sun disappeared from the horizon, they stopped to make camp for the night. He dismounted and watched Grorn untie the chain from around her legs and tug her off the horse. She stumbled onto the ground and snarled at the orc. “Watch it, bastard!”
Holding the chain that was connected to her shackles, Grorn led her toward a tree to tie her up.
“I need to relieve myself,” she informed him.
Grorn stared at her blankly, not comprehending the common tongue she spoke in.
“I can go here, but it will be unpleasant for all of us.” Then she wiggled her arms, which were still shackled behind her. “And you can’t expect me to go like this.”
Seeing Grorn’s continued confusion, Vidorak walked over and translated, then warned in the common tongue, “If you run, I will catch you.”
He removed the key from around his neck and turned her around. With the rush of the fight gone, he now picked up on her scent of embers and cloves. It took all his willpower not to lean forward and breathe in the scent.
With a click, he freed one of her wrists, but kept a tight hold on the other.
As she turned to face him, her body tensed, and she swiftly threw a punch at his face.
He effortlessly blocked it with one hand before it could make contact.
He was about to reprimand her when she stomped hard with her boot and pain shot up his leg.
“You devil witch,” he growled at her, trying not to wince from the pain.
“You only said not to run.” She smirked.
Grumbling, he took her free wrist and quickly shackled her in the front before pushing her toward Grorn.
“Don’t let her out of your sight,” he instructed Grorn in Orcish before limping away.
Grorn nodded and led her toward the brush. Vidorak returned to his horse and started unloading his things to set up camp.
“Mad woman,” he mumbled under his breath as he grabbed one of his furs and left it by the tree where Grorn would tie her when they returned. He didn’t care about her comfort, but if she froze before they reached the capital, it would put the treaty at risk.
His eyes kept flickering in the direction where they’d disappeared. With each passing second, he grew increasingly agitated until finally deciding to investigate their activity. He shouldn’t have trusted Grorn with her. Even with the shackles, she was not to be underestimated.
They returned before Vidorak stepped away from camp, and Grorn fastened her to the tree.
The orcs gathered by the fire to eat. The meat that he’d left on the witch’s furs remained untouched.
That annoyed him even though he knew that’s what he would do too.
Poison would be the easiest way to make sure a captive was subdued for the journey, and she had no reason to trust them.
A thick layer of clouds blocked the stars, and the only light was the flicker of the campfire. Her expression remained bored, as if her capture were only a nuisance. There wasn’t a hint of fear upon her features.
He would stay the night and then return to Vestrahorn in the morning. Now that they had captured her, the others could handle the rest of the trip without him.
That thought sat uncomfortably inside him.
“You took so long, I figured you had some fun with the witch,” Mabanok said in Orcish to Grorn.
Vidorak froze, eyes cutting to the orc. There was a dark glint in Mabanok’s eyes.
“I didn’t do anything!” Grorn’s eyes widened at the suggestion.
“Why not?” Mabanok pushed. “They said she is to be brought alive. Nothing about not having her prior.”
Despite his initial shock, Grorn glanced at the witch with hesitant interest. Vidorak’s jaw tightened as rage coursed through his veins. He felt an overwhelming urge to crush the orc’s head against the ground.
“Great idea,” Kinar said across the fire while staring right at him. He’d caught Vidorak’s mask slip for that second. “Let’s make it interesting and play for her.”
With the jarl’s approval, Mabanok brought out his bone dice and placed them in the center.
“Are you playing, Vidorak?” Grorn asked as he moved to sit closer.
Vidorak studied the witch he planned to abandon tomorrow. She had angered the Crown by killing a district lord and seizing his estate. She was to be tried and, likely, publicly executed.
Regardless of her crimes, he couldn’t stand by and let one of the other orcs harm her like that. Nobody deserved that.
He stalked over to where they sat and joined in the game of liars.