Chapter 5 #2
“Can you?” When Lillian was brave enough to step toward me despite her worry, I hid my proud smile. “The guards will stay at your side in case you stumble.”
“The guards will stay at his side,” the older man announced, “in case the bastard gets any ideas about escaping again. We remember what happened last time. Shorten the chains,” he commanded.
With two of the guards holding swords at my throat, another stepped forward to shift the manacles along the chain which had held my arms over my head.
My wrists weren’t shackled to one another and I could still move my arms freely, although I held them in such a way that the guard wouldn’t guess he’d misjudged the length of the chain.
Good.
“Let’s go,” one of them ordered, prodding me with the sword.
I heard Lillian suck in a breath as the blade drew blood at the base of my neck, close to the injury she’d already treated. For the first time, I allowed myself to lift my gaze to hers.
There was worry in her blue eyes, aye, and compassion as well. I watched her reach for me then lower her fingers before anyone but me was aware. She took a deep breath, dropped her gaze to the floor in her usual appearance of servility, and turned away.
“Follow me, please,” she murmured as she limped from the cell.
The males on either side of me tightened their grips, and I was willing to rely on them as they led me from behind those hated bars. I’d told Lillian I could walk, and I would. But those first dozen yards were difficult as my legs remembered what to do, and I would have fallen without the guards.
Once we reached the steps, however, I was stumbling less, and my arms were flexing beneath their hold. Still, I pretended weakness and humility, keeping my head down and my chin tucked, hoping they’d believe I was beaten and broken.
Good, because Stormseeker of the Battleborn awaits ye, and ye dinnae ken why.
The Great Hall was a wall of sound and heat, both of which made me wince after months of cold solitude.
It seemed the humans celebrated their winter feast with burning as many trees as possible, because the huge hearth put out a heat I could barely stand.
Mayhap my months of freezing temperatures had acclimated my body to the snow and ice, because sweat soon rolled down the small of my back.
My guards led me—stumbling theatrically—toward the center of the hall, then yanked me to a stop.
I stood, shoulders slumped, wrists shackled in front of me, the chain linking them gripped in my hands so it appeared less of a threat.
I shifted until my back was to the entrance and I kept my head bowed, although I watched from beneath lowered brows.
From my left eye, at least.
“Good God, Tarbert, he’s disgusting!” came a woman’s cry. Laughter followed, along with more jeers.
“You couldn’t have given him a bath for us?”
“It’s huge! That’s an orc, eh? Thank God you’re allied with the strong ones!”
“His daughters are married to one of those? Is he certain they’re still alive? It looks like it could break me in half without trying.”
“Yes, darling, but I’d like him to give me a try. Do you think his cock is as big as the rest of him?”
“How long has he been in that dungeon, Tarbert? He’s still bleeding!”
“Can it understand us, do you think?”
Some of the discussion was quiet enough I doubted the humans knew I could hear them. Others called their insults, fully intending to be heard.
And I? I stood there and took it, the humiliation, the taunting, the speaking of me as if I were a beast. To these close-minded humans, mayhap I was.
Lillian had been the only one to see me as worth a conversation, worth compassion. She’d been the only one to see my soul. Which is why I wasn’t going to leave her here to suffer her father’s demands. Even if I had to raise the Bloodfire allies, I would heal, and I would storm Tarbert Keep…for her.
Keeping my head down, I shifted my attention to Tarbert himself. I recognized him after so many visits to gloat at me in the dungeon, but today he was dressed in his finest robes and a heavy fur cloak. I wondered how he could stand it in the sweltering heat.
As I watched, a serving wench—her tits hanging low in her unlaced kirtle—giggled as she bent over him to refill his ale, and he grabbed her, pulling her into his lap.
Her throaty laughter rang under the calls of the spectators, and Tarbert shoved his hand into her gown to lift out one of her breasts and idly squeeze it as he studied me.
I shot a glance at Lillian to see her gaze locked on the floor, her hands folded before her meekly. There were two spots of color high in her cheeks, and I thought they might be embarrassment for the spectacle her father was making of himself.
The men seated around Tarbert called out lewd encouragement and suggestions about the serving wench as he kept his triumphant attention locked on me. I purposefully moved my attention from him, keeping my posture defeated and weak.
I almost missed the other orc.
Vrogul Stormseeker was as big as I, otherwise I might have missed him.
The Battleborn chieftain lounged in a dark corner, his elbow propped on the arm of his chair, his chin resting on his fist, and his dark cloak pulled around him.
The firelight cast his features in strange shadows but caused the gold rings in his ears—the ones which marked his status—to shine.
His expression showed no hatred, no ire. Just a vague sort of curiosity.
Why was he here? Why did Tarbert think to give me to him?
Mayhap the orc felt my attention, because the Battleborn chieftain’s brow rose as if in challenge. Was he waiting to see what I would do?
He was the only other orc in this keep. Hells, he might be the only other orc in this world right now. But I didn’t know why he was here, and I had no idea if I could count on him. Now, or ever.
Wrapped around the chains, my fingers flexed, my claws sliding free. It had been months since I’d felt this surge of energy from my Kteer, months since I’d smelled freedom.
Vrogul Stormseeker could go fook himself; I was getting out of here. And as Tarbert shoved the wench off his lap, pushed himself to his feet, I knew how.
“Friends! A very happy Hogmanay!” Tarbert waited for the cheers to die down, then waved his hands and began to walk behind the row of chairs behind the tables. “I know you’re all here because my ale is the sweetest, my meat the finest, and my beds the softest—”
“You know us well, Tarbert!” someone called out.
There was a flash of irritation in Tarbert’s eyes, though he grinned through the laughter, and for the first time I realized his eyes were the same color as Lillian’s.
“Aye, aye, but tonight I have another reason to invite my friends.”
He reached the end of the row of tables and stepped into the middle of the Great Hall. Toward me.
“Tonight, I wanted you to bear witness to one of my greatest victories. As you know, last summer my eldest daughter married the chief of the Bladesedge clan of orcs.”
He strolled around me, his smile gloating, mocking.
“Better to ally with the beasts than fear them, I always say. This alliance has made me powerful.”
More cheers from his audience. I forced myself not to turn about, trying to keep him in my sights. Instead, I slumped my shoulders further, pretending shame. The charade worked. When Tarbert stood before me again, he waved away the guards, and they respectfully stepped backward.
Only Lillian stepped forward.
“Father—” she began to warn him, but the old bastard ignored her, turning his back to me as he raised his hands to his gathered friends.
“Orcs raid in the autumn, we all know that. Months ago, Bladesedge’s enemies, the Bloodfire clan, came into our world, thinking to attack their enemies by attacking me. Attacking Tarbert! But we are stronger than that!” he roared. “My men sent them crying back home!”
For the first time, my Kteer overran my sense of self-preservation. A growl started low in my throat as I slowly raised my chin. I could pretend shame and defeat, but to hear him speak so of my warriors? My brother and cousins? I would not have it.
Bloodfire had not been beaten.
Just me.
“And not only did we defeat those beasts, my friends, we took their chief! Oh, I lost a few of my men in doing so, but we struck him down and dragged him back to my dungeon, broken and bleeding.”
I switched my glare from the back of his head to see Lillian watching me, her eyes wide, that delicious-looking lower lip caught between her teeth. And there was another watching me. I switched my gaze to Stormseeker. He’d leaned forward, intent on the spectacle.
When he caught my eye, he nodded once, slowly.
Tarbert was still bragging. “It took the beast months to heal, and when he thought himself ready, he broke out of my dungeon. Or thought he would, at least.”
He joined in the laughter now.
“More of my men had to die, but they were clearly not among my best. Half-dead, I had him chained in his cell, and now he’s joining us tonight. You can see how weak he is, how pitiable. Tonight, I give him to my new ally, the Battleborn Clan of Islay, to do with as they please!”
This was met with a mighty roar of approval, Tarbert’s men pounding on tables with their mugs, calling out suggestions and taunts.
And I knew this chaos was my best time to act.
As Tarbert lowered his arms and began to turn about, I struck.
I whipped my arms up, throwing them over his head, using the chain to yank him backward against my chest. Before he could yell, I’d wrapped the chain around his neck and gripped him from behind by the lower jaw, my palm covering his mouth, my claws digging into his cheeks, his body utterly in my control.
Lillian stumbled toward me, her lips parted in concern, her arms out. I didn’t know her intention, but she would not reach me in time, and neither would the guards.
My Kteer howled in victory as I leaned my mouth close to Tarbert’s ear.
In the sudden silence, I growled, “I am not weak.”