Page 32 of The Orc's Bride

I drew in a gulping breath.Right.And another. The ragghit was taking its sweet time coming over to me, probably thinking I was a weak victim. Easy pickings.

Well, I would prove it wrong. I wouldn’t die like this, paralyzed and helpless.

When it made another step forward, its hoof touching the water on the low riverbank, I turned away from it and ran, dropping my shoes. Water splashed behind me, and there was that sinister, reedy giggle. I didn’t look back.

The bank in front of me was higher than the other – a steep wall of earth with tree roots sticking out of it. If I could climb it fast enough, I would have an advantage. The elk wasn’t made for climbing. It would have to find a more accessible spot to go up this riverbank – and meanwhile, I’d be up a tree.

That was a brilliant plan.

But I hadn’t taken into account that the earth out of which the tree roots were sticking wouldn’t be packed and firm. In fact, it was pretty loose.

I was climbing frantically, pulling myself up by the thicker roots, and the soil – sand, really – was sliding from under my feet. But I was making a good progress, even as the elk came closer, still giggling madly… when a lower part of the bank slid down in a small avalanche.

I was holding on to a tree root, my feet dangling, helplessly trying to find some purchase. I looked over my shoulder. The ragghit was almost to me now, its head level with my hips.

Close enough to bite me.

I tried to pull myself up with just the strength of my arms… But failed. I was too weak. And the ragghit’s grinning muzzle was right by my butt. I squeezed my eyes shut.

There was a low whistle, followed by a wet thump. The ragghit whined, a high-pitched, painful sound. I risked a look over my shoulder.

An orc axe was stuck in the ragghit’s hindquarters, and up on the other riverbank, teeth bared in a snarl, stood Urgan.

He unsheathed his curved, orcish sword and grinned at the beast.

“It’s your lucky day,” he said, swinging the sword in a tight circle. “You get to be killed by Urgan the Bloodthirsty.”

He charged. One moment he was standing still, the menace and deadly energy coiled like an aura around him… and then he was full-on running, already in the water, the sword at his side.

The elk charged Urgan with a whistling giggle. But it was bulky and wounded. Urgan, despite his size, was much faster and nimbler. He got out of the ragghit’s path and cut low over one hoof.

For a moment, everything was still.

And then, the ragghit’s leg gave, and it toppled, head first, its back legs scrambling madly. Trying to hold it upright.

I was certain Urgan would finish it now. But he just stood there, looking at the beast with cold fury.

He swung again, slashing the skin on its back. Again, crippling another leg. Again.

“Where. Are. Your. Friends.” He punctuated each word with a cut.

The ragghit was trembling now, its body oozing black blood from its many wounds, its voice a high-pitched squeak. I felt sorry for it. After all, it wasn’t evil. It was just sick.

“Urgan, stop!” I said, trying to get a better grip on the root I was hanging from. Should I just drop into the river? It was safe with Urgan here.

“It will be your turn when I stop,” he said without turning his face to me.

I gulped, even more terrified than when I had faced the ragghit. Urgan was livid. I realized his anger wasn’t for the beast. It was for me. For my escape. What would he do to me? Surely, he wouldn’t kill me… Right?

Calm down. The way to go was up, and then… Prayer?

I swung back and forth, my weak arms screaming from the effort of holding me up for so long, my palms raw from hanging onto the rough surface of the root. My toes touched the wall of sand and earth. I would swing again, and the next time, maybe I’d be able to scramble up the riverbank…

A powerful arm wrapped around my hips and dragged me away, making me let go of the root. I yelped and struggled. But it was useless, of course. I risked a glimpse down. The muscles on the arm that was holding me were pumped and hard as steel, bunching under Urgan’s green skin.

I’d never escape his grip.

He carried me across the river, and I could see the ragghit’s corpse bleeding into the water. When we reached the low riverbank, Urgan put me on my feet. He got a hold of my loose hair, hanging wild and tangled down my back, and pulled on it, forcing me to look up at his face.

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