Chapter 13 Vidorak
Chapter thirteen
Vidorak
She was madness incarnate, but not in a cold and calculated way. It was the opposite. She was mad, with each emotion clearly written on her face, shining too bright for comfort. He couldn’t look away and didn’t want to. Vidorak felt drawn to how her smile was too wicked, and her anger too raw.
He had built such a wall within himself that even the smallest flickers of emotion suffocated him. Yet here she was, this mad witch who allowed all her emotions to flow freely.
Would her sorrow also be this intense? He had yet to see her tears, but he knew they would be gut-wrenching.
At the sight of her friend falling with a dagger in her chest, the amusement in her eyes died. Her attacks became erratic and savage. There was no strategy outside of pain. It wasn’t just the thugs she struck—it was anyone that got in her way.
The onlookers trampled one another in their efforts to flee. The grass caught fire and spread rapidly across the dry field.
He saw Kinar barreling through the crowd with fury in his eyes and the shackles in his hands. Vidorak searched for Calypso, wanting to warn her or help her snap out of her state, but she had become swallowed by the smoke.
Vidorak pushed his way through the swarm of bodies but came to a halt when he spotted her fallen friend. The pull to continue his search was strong, but he couldn’t leave the injured woman behind.
Even with his Orcish eyesight, it wasn’t until he bent down to examine her that he saw she was still breathing.
His hand went over the dagger in the center of her chest, and he pulled it out as carefully as he could.
Blood immediately bubbled through, and he put pressure on the wound.
She wasn’t dead now, but she wouldn’t last much longer.
Sensing someone approaching, he reached for his axe, but then saw it was one of the other witches who had been captured.
The woman hesitantly stepped closer. “I can help her.”
“How?”
She wouldn’t look directly at Vidorak, hands clenching at her skirts. “I’m a medicinal witch. I can heal her wound.”
Feeling the injured witch’s weak pulse, he strongly doubted that.
“What do you need from me?”
“Guard us while I work. I am not aware of my surroundings when I heal.”
He picked up the wounded witch and headed deeper into the forest until he spotted a patch of dense bramble that would provide them cover. Accepting this would have to do, he laid the dying woman down.
“What is your name?” he asked the other witch as she kneeled by her patient.
“Odessa.”
“I am Vidorak. I will leave you for a moment to make sure we weren’t followed, but I will remain close.”
She muttered her thanks and then began her healing.
True to his word, he stayed within a close radius of where he’d left the witches, guarding them from any intruders. Luckily, the other humans had fled elsewhere, and Kinar must’ve followed too.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t any sign of Calypso. Impatience increased as he became acutely aware of each minute he wasn’t hunting for her. His instincts were clawing at him to track her down.
And then what?
He had set her free, rendering the proposed treaty nullified. There was no reason to further intertwine the paths of their lives. His focus should be on returning to the mountain and challenging his uncle. And given what occurred at Taybe, she clearly had her own troubles to address.
Logically, there was no reason to spend another minute thinking about her.
Yet in a matter of days, she had burrowed herself into his mind. Taking over his focus, making him feel like he couldn’t breathe unless he was breathing her scent.
His cock stiffened remembering the last time his hands were on her.
There was no denying he wanted to touch her again, but he would never do it with the threat of harm hanging over her.
None of that mattered, however, because she was more likely to kill him than touch him, assuming she hadn’t already succumbed to her own wounds.
After doing another pass around the area to confirm no threats were approaching, he returned to where he had left the witches.
“Will she live?” He noted the paleness of her skin but saw the wound in her chest had stopped bleeding.
Odessa nodded, dark circles now present under her eyes. “It’ll take time. But yes.”
He reached at his side and handed her a spare dagger and most of the coins from his coin purse. “Use this to go north to Taybe. You’ll find a coven of sorts there that will help you.”
She took the items, gripping the weapon tightly. It would’ve been better to stay with them as protection, but he needed to find Calypso before she encountered more trouble.
With a final lap around the area to make sure no orcs or humans were nearby, he returned to camp to grab his horse. It set him back a bit, but now he could track Calypso at a faster pace.
Riding through the forest, he caught whiffs of her scent sporadically. There were also occasional signs that Kinar and the other orcs had passed. With the chieftain’s plans resting on her delivery, he knew they would search relentlessly.
The threat of them capturing her first spurred Vidorak on to continue the search through the night. The rush in his veins stamped out any need for sleep. All he needed was her presence and knowing she was safe.
Desperation spiked as the passing hours continued to be fruitless. Once more, he wondered if this was the beginning of a berserker frenzy. Because he currently felt more beast than not. What other explanation could there be for the single-minded way he searched?
When the first rays of dawn hit, he was still searching avidly.
He steadily headed north, but it’d been some time since he’d picked up her scent, and there were no signs of fire damage.
Only a peaceful forest terrain and woodland critters surrounded him.
One of which was currently flying around most annoyingly.
He swatted at the small black bird, shooing it away temporarily, but then the creature returned to circle his horse once more. The bird either had no sense of self-preservation or was trying to signal something.
Pulling back on the reins, he stopped his horse and waited for the crow to settle on his shoulder. Red orbs stared back at him before giving a short ‘caw’ and flying off.
This had to be the witch’s crow who’d taken the shackle key from around his neck. Vidorak pulled the reins to the right and followed the crow through the forest. It took only a little longer after that to find what he’d spent all night searching for.
The witch was unconscious, but she was alive.
That uncurled something inside of him he didn’t understand but had relinquished caring to figure out.
Seeing her shallow breathing as she defenselessly lay upon the forest floor, it became clear how poorly she was doing. He became enraged, imagining Kinar finding her so weak and dragging her to Sanograd on a journey she likely wouldn’t survive.
He kneeled down and swept the hair from her pale face. He would make sure she lived and escort her back north. Then he would return to the mountain and end things once and for all.
Decision made, he picked her up gingerly and headed toward a cave he had passed not too far back. Inside, he placed her down on his furs and set to examine her closer.
Lifting the ends of her dress, he saw the heated, angry streaks from the wound on her thigh.
It had worsened from lack of cleaning and the days of travel.
He should’ve just tied her up and taken care of it the other day instead of letting her denial stop him.
She clearly was not one to act rationally.
He cleaned the area and then covered it with the medicinal paste he had in his pack. He ripped one of his spare tunics into strips and wrapped them around her upper thigh, sealing in the medicine.
While undressing her, he made a note of the wounds across her body.
There was purple bruising on her abdomen that he didn’t like and lighter bruising along her cheekbone.
Her hands and feet were littered with cuts that he cleaned and bandaged as well.
It was a small mercy that she was unconscious when he fixed her dislocated shoulder.
During his inspection, he noted the extensive black markings of magic across her chest, sternum, and arms. There were more markings than her actual skin in these areas. Even on himself, his red Orcish marks were limited to under his eyes and over his cheeks, like two vertical slashes.
His finger lightly skimmed the edge of the black markings on her ribs, noting how they seemed to move at his touch. The curious thoughts turned lustful, and his fingers ached to slide further up, over the rosy peaks of her breasts. Even with her wounds, her body was soft and inviting.
Reluctantly, he peeled his eyes away and examined her dress. It was torn, dirty, and stained with blood. He took another spare tunic from his pack and dressed her in it, trying not to let his touch linger any longer than was necessary. Then he added another fur on top to ensure she remained warm.
There was no reason to linger in the cave. She would likely rest for hours, and he needed to hunt and get drinkable water. Yet, it was difficult to stop his staring, weak to the draw he felt toward her.
He refused to consider how he would react if she declined wanting to travel together. While he would never take her to Captain Von Ahlen now, there was a dark part of him that enjoyed her being shackled to his side.
The image of Jarl Kinar carrying the shackles flashed through his mind, and he cursed himself for not grabbing them. Kinar probably suspected his betrayal, and if word got back to the mountain, his mother and allies would be at risk.
Restlessly, he left the cave to gather resources.
He needed to get all fascinating thoughts of that witch out of his mind.
He could not afford to live his life with emotions ruling him in the careless manner she seemed to do.
The only way he could keep those he loved alive was to bury all that, erase any desires and hopes he had.