Chapter 9 Vidorak
Chapter nine
Vidorak
Vidorak was grateful when dawn finally broke on the horizon. He’d hardly slept, frequently waking to monitor the witch. She’d done nothing suspicions, and instead, Vidorak had studied how the moonlight illuminated the different shades of red in her hair.
Now that she carried his scent, Grorn and Kinar were no longer interested. Vidorak suspected the jarl’s intentions had only been to challenge him.
Mabanok was another story. That orc’s eyes still held far too much interest for Vidorak’s comfort.
He should’ve struck Mabanok harder in Helios and just been done with it.
Thinking of Helios, he recalled what the witch had said. He and his uncle killed many members of the northern guard that night. But how many townsfolk were spared by persuading his uncle to end the raid early?
A low body count was hardly on the witch’s agenda.
She’d admitted herself that she had killed the district lord brutally.
But there was definitely more to the story; she’d insinuated as much.
He’d barely held himself back from pressing the issue, but what did it matter?
The Crown considered her such a great enemy that they would go to peace with orcs. Her fate was sealed.
Ignoring the bitter feeling in his gut, Vidorak gathered his things and readied his horse. He took out food and drink from his satchel and went to get the witch.
Now that he had claimed her, she would ride with him during the journey. That postponed his plans to return to the mountain. Like it or not, he would see the situation through.
“Eat quickly. We are leaving soon,” he ordered while handing her the provisions.
She chewed slowly while studying his face. “You look tired.”
Vidorak said nothing, not wanting her to think his exhaustion made him easy to take advantage of.
She then added, “Looks as though my curse worked.”
Shock ripped through him, and he pushed her back against a tree with a hand around her throat.
“You will remove your curse immediately!” he growled, face inches from hers.
“Never.” Her defiant stare didn’t leave his. “You will be plagued with anxieties and despair the rest of your nights for all you have done to me. Your blood will forever run cold, and you will never be warm again.”
His hand relaxed but didn’t move away.
It wasn’t anxiety or despair that plagued him last night.
It had been desire. Even in the chilly night air, his blood hadn’t run cold.
It had been aflame with thoughts he didn’t need to have.
What he’d done in the woods had been to protect her from the worst of his kind, yet he couldn’t deny the way he’d replayed that scene in his head.
When he had sensed her sweet arousal, he had almost come immediately.
The feel of her soft thighs beneath his hands was burned into his memory.
Perhaps he was deluding himself into thinking he was any better than the others.
“Why are you lying?”
She wasn’t bothered about how quickly her lie was discovered. “You do not deserve to know my lies from my truth, orc.”
His thumb slid over the steady beat at her throat. Her golden eyes swirled with fury.
“You are right.”
He let her go, quickly confirming that the shackles were indeed still unbroken. Then they mounted the horses and set out on their way. They continued riding through the woods, keeping a brutal pace to not waste time.
After several hours, they stopped to rest and give the horses a break. Vidorak practically threw himself off the mount, desperate to put space between him and the witch. He took just enough time to secure her to a nearby tree and then stalked away.
She didn’t leave his sight, but he needed to breathe in something that wasn’t her scent.
He splashed his face with water from his waterskin in order to clear his thoughts. While he was fairly certain she had lied about the curse, he felt as if his mind was unraveling.
“Are you okay?” Grorn came up to him.
Vidorak scowled, hating that it showed so easily on his face that Grorn could see. “I am fine.”
Mabanok joined them with a sneering expression on his face. “You seem flustered. Let me take the witch off your hands.”
“Touch her, and you won’t be returning to the mountain.”
“Very possessive over some witch whore.” Mabanok continued to prod at him.
He was going to kill him. It was a long time coming for Mabanok.
“You do not talk about what is mine!” Vidorak’s voice was low and vibrated with rage as he stepped chest to chest with the other orc. “Next time you mention her, it won’t just be a strike. I will remove your head.”
The confusion on Mabanok’s face twisted into outrage as he realized Vidorak was referring to his injury in Helios.
Before Mabanok could respond, Kinar called out, “Back on the horses, we’ve wasted enough time!”
Vidorak returned to his horse feeling dazed from the interaction.
While he loathed that orc, the strong possessiveness had come out of nowhere.
Irrational behavior was one of the first signs before the berserker frenzy set in.
With all the death on his hands, that was a fear in the back of his mind, especially given how the walls around his control were cracking.
Wordlessly, he untied the chain from the tree. He tugged more harshly than he’d meant to and saw Calypso wince in pain as she stumbled onto her left leg. He suddenly recalled how Jarl Kinar had stabbed her there. “Let me see.”
“No.” She stared at him with such vitriol, he had no doubt that he would be on fire if she currently possessed her powers.
“I can see the bloodstain on your dress. Let me bandage the wound.”
“I do not want or need your help.”
He considered throwing her over his shoulder and taking her away to check on it, whether or not she liked it. “You are being foolish.”
“It bled, but now it’s closed. I can tend to it myself,” she firmly denied his efforts.
Vidorak wanted to snarl in frustration, but the reality of their circumstances hung over his head. If she wanted to leave it untended, that was her decision. He could bring her to the capital with one leg as long as he brought her alive.
“Fine. It’s your choice.”
She gave a humorless laugh. “If it was my choice, I’d be far from here.”
They mounted the horse, and once more, the witch was pressed up against him. Her infuriating scent took over his senses, causing him to stiffen. He was going to lose his mind by the end of this.
As they continued riding further south, the dense forest rolled into hills and valleys. There wasn’t much conversation to be had, and Vidorak could feel the occasional glare from Mabanok as they traveled.
The sun had set by the time they stopped for camp. Grorn started the fire while Kinar and Mabanok went hunting. Vidorak watched in displeasure as the witch avoided the food he’d given her. He gritted his teeth, trying to figure out exactly what she was playing at.
“Eat.”
“Why? I doubt the captain will care whether or not I’ve been well fed. Besides, I dislike dried meat.”
There was no reason for him to care. Whether she ate or whether she was sick, her fate didn’t change. She was a captive that would be delivered for execution. That was the cost of a peace that had been unachievable for decades.
Needing to clear his mind, Vidorak went to Grorn and spoke in Orcish. “I’m leaving for a moment. Watch over the witch.”
Grorn nodded, looking at her with an air of fear. Good. Better he fear her than lust after her like Mabanok.
Vidorak left the campsite and took out his dagger as he disappeared further into the forest. He would hunt to replenish his food supply, not to provide fresh meat for the witch.
On the hunt, his instincts took over, catching the scent of a rabbit. He prowled through the brush following the creature’s trail. The little white fluff was cleaning itself, blissfully unaware of the danger that loomed.
Roasted rabbit was delicious, and he’d serve it to her like some final meal before execution.
Committing brutalities for the greater good had been the way Vidorak had lived for years. He killed under his uncle’s command to protect those he cared for. He razed towns to feed his clan. And now he was delivering a kidnapped woman for peace.
But never were the shame and disgust so great. She may be wicked and dangerous, but she had not harmed the clan. Even with her meddling in Helios, they had been the ones to choose to raid the town.
The wall he had built inside himself to remain cold to the actions he did was breaking down. He wished he could blame the witch for it, but she just pushed him over the edge.
His destruction was happening before his eyes, and for a moment he reveled in it.
If he was in freefall anyway, he might as well be true to himself.
Might as well give in to the compulsion to free her and challenge his uncle.
Once he returned to the mountain, he’d direct Nazghor to take his mother somewhere safe and tell Grushag to disappear.
A branch snapped, and the pointy white ears of the rabbit flew up.
In a blur, the rabbit was gone, and Vidorak sighed. There were edible berries closer to camp that he would gather. Perhaps she would eat those.
As he turned, he caught the sound of voices nearby. Crouching, he made his way silently toward the private discussion.
From around the brush, he spotted Jarl Kinar and Mabanok in a whispered conversation.
“I don’t care how you do it, just kill him before we get to Sanograd,” Jarl Kinar told Mabanok sternly.
“Won’t Captain Von Ahlen notice that the chieftain’s nephew isn’t there?”
“The captain won’t notice. We are all the same to him,” Jarl Kinar pressed at Mabanok’s hesitation. “If we wait until after the exchange, he will break away from the group.”
Mabanok pondered this for a moment. “You’re sure the chieftain won’t find out? I don’t want it traced back to me.”
“Are you refusing?” Jarl Kinar growled.
“No, Vidorak deserves to rot in the ground.”
“Prove your loyalty and I’ll convince Urim to name you jarl.”
Mabanok slowly nodded, eyes eager at the prospect. “Consider it done.”
Vidorak slipped back into the shadows and made his way toward camp. He was unconcerned at Kinar’s desire to have him killed. Kinar’s ego was large, and he would never forget being questioned so publicly. It surprised him that Kinar would have another person carry out the act.
Either way, he wasn’t worried about their plans. Vidorak looked forward to ending Mabanok. And if he couldn’t take on Kinar, then he stood no chance against his uncle, so the challenge was welcome.
One problem remained. He needed the witch far away whenever the confrontation took place. He had no doubts they would try to use her against him. For all her questionable deeds, she shouldn’t have to suffer the blowback.
He knew full well that releasing her would mean the end of his clan’s peace treaty, and he was ready to accept the consequences of that decision. Because one thing was for certain, Calypso would not be taken to Sanograd by his hand.