Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Thea glared after Khorrek as he turned and left the tent.
He just… walked out and left her standing there mid-rant like she wasn’t even worth listening to.
Rude.
She stood in the sudden silence, her indignation warring with the more practical part of her brain that pointed out she was in way over her head.
What now?
She could try to run. The tent flap was open. Khorrek was outside, but if she was fast and quiet…
You’d last maybe five minutes before someone caught you. And then what? You think Khorrek would be gentle a second time?
She’d also been forced to consider her options while sprawled ignominiously over his shoulder.
She could keep fighting—which was obviously pointless, given the difference in their sizes.
She could scream—equally pointless, given that they were in the middle of nowhere and the only people likely to hear were whoever Khorrek was taking her to anyway.
Or she could accept reality—she was trapped in an alien world with no shelter, no food, no water, and no survival skills. Even when she’d been at some remote dig site, there were always people there to take care of the practical details like shelter and food.
Her choices boiled down to going with Khorrek or dying alone on the plains.
In the end, it wasn’t much of a choice, so she’d made the practical decision and stopped struggling.
She’d let herself go limp over his shoulder, conserving her energy for whatever came next.
And he’d… softened in response. He’d adjusted her position enough to ease the strain on her stomach and when she’d shivered he’d wrapped his arms around her to keep her warm.
His skin didn’t have the same texture as human skin, but it was warm, and smooth except for the ridged lines of his scars.
There was something oddly comforting about his earthy scent and she’d almost relaxed before she came to her senses.
She couldn’t trust him, even if he had been…
protective when they arrived at the camp.
She’d had a brief flare of hope when they arrived at the camp and she’d seen other humans—men wearing leather armor and carrying weapons that looked disturbingly well-used.
They might speak English. They might be able to help her.
But then she’d seen their faces, and the way they looked at her sent a shiver of pure terror down her spine.
When Khorrek stepped in front of her she’d been relieved—until he carried her into the tent and dumped her on the pile of surprisingly soft furs before leaving her alone in a space that smelled like him.
She took a deep breath and looked around.
So this is what an orc’s tent looks like. Who knew they’d be so tidy?
The tent was small—barely large enough for one person to stand upright—and dominated by the pile of furs that served as a bed. The furs were well-maintained but worn. Used for years, probably. A pack sat in one corner, along with a neat array of weapons that she automatically catalogued.
Short sword. Daggers—three of them. Axe. Another axe. Is that a mace? Why does one person need so many ways to kill people?
She crouched next to the pack, her fingers itching to search through it. Academic curiosity warred with the knowledge that touching his belongings was a bad idea.
Curiosity won, and she carefully opened the pack.
She found rations—dried meat and hard bread. A water skin. A few pieces of clothing, along with tools for mending and for attending to his weapons. They were practical supplies for a traveler. A soldier. But at the bottom, wrapped in oiled cloth, she found something unexpected.
A book.
The cover was leather—old and worn soft with handling. The pages were hand-bound, the edges uneven in a way that suggested it had been made rather than manufactured.
The script inside was beautiful—flowing characters that reminded her of Celtic illuminated manuscripts, but different. Unique.
He can read.
The realization shouldn’t have been surprising—she’d seen the intelligence in his eyes.
It shouldn’t have mattered, but somehow it shifted something in her mental model of him.
Literate meant educated, and educated meant culture, history, and a civilization advanced enough to value written language.
Perhaps even a civilization where she would have value.
She turned the pages, studying the script and looking for patterns, repeated characters, anything that might give her a foothold in understanding his language.
There was that same teasing hint of understanding that she’d experienced at the stone circle even though it was clearly a different language, but she couldn’t decipher it. Yet.
Sighing, she carefully rewrapped the book and placed it back in the pack before crossing to the tent flap and peering out.
All three of the men had found reasons to position themselves so they could watch the tent. They weren’t looking directly at her, but she could feel the weight of their attention.
One of them said something, and it took her a moment to realize what she’d been too terrified to realize earlier.
They were speaking the same language as Khorrek but it was easier to understand in their lighter voices and the words were…
familiar. Not English, but perhaps something with romance language roots? Or Germanic?
Come on, brain. You speak six languages. Work with me here.
She thought she caught a few words. Perhaps “woman” or “female.” Something that might have been “pretty” or possibly “small.”
One of them caught her eye and smiled.
It wasn’t a friendly smile.
She ducked back inside the tent, her heart hammering, but she couldn’t remain hidden away forever. Hoping she was correct about Khorrek protecting her, she took a deep breath and marched back out of the tent.