Page 48 of Agor

A knife swished through the air, thrown so hard, it embedded into the orc’s head all the way up to its handle. As the dead orc crashed to the ground, Agor appeared from behind me.

He shoved his foot against the dead orc’s throat, then yanked his knife out of his head.

“She’s not a kitten.” He spat on the corpse. “She’s a woman. And she likes dogs.”

I twirled my sword in my hand. “I had it, you know. I would’ve been fine. But thanks, anyway.”

He nodded with a grunt.

I glanced back, ready to run to Faeena. But people rushed out of their wagons, wielding whatever weapons everyone had. And just in time, it seemed. As more orcs climbed over the fence and into the settlement.

“Who are these assholes?” I asked Agor, gripping my sword with both hands. “These aren’t the orcs from your keep, are they?”

“No.” He ripped a ribbon of red snakeskin from the dead orc’s arm. “These are Farod’s men. They wear the crimson viper’s skin.”

“Is Farod—” I didn’t finish my question as an orc attacked Agor from behind.

I jumped aside then forward, stabbing the attacker with my sword. As he stumbled, Agor hit him with his mace, smashing the back of his head open. The orc dropped face down—dead.

I wiped my hair out of my face with my forearm.

“You know,” I said, “they’re much easier to kill with your help.”

He grinned, his eyes lighting up.

“Let’s do it then. Stay with me. We’ll fight together.”

He whipped around, meeting another orc head on. Their maces clashed with a sound that shook the ground like an earthquake.

I ducked and sank my blade under the orc’s ribs. He jerked, his mace shifting. Agor shoved at him sideways, then finished him with a blow to his head.

The orcs ambushed the settlement from every direction. My people met them with knives, swords, and whatever else one had.

Martha jumped onto the back of a short, stout orc, hammering him with a cast-iron pan over his head. Cradling his broken arm in a sling, Stephen, her husband, stabbed the orc with a long butcher knife he held in his uninjured hand.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Faeena sitting up with Gleb’s help. Relief flooded my chest. She was alive, but Gleb had to get her out of the yard where a real battle was unfolding now.

“I’ve got your back, Becca,” Agor assured me, smashing heads left and right with his massive mace.

It was still new to me to trust an orc in a fight. But this was Agor. He’d saved my life before, and I knew I could lean on him with no reservations. He’d have my back, no matter what.

As he locked his mace with yet another orc, Martha rushed Agor, wielding her frying pan over her head. I stepped in her path. My sword clashed with her pan, deflecting the blow meant for Agor.

“See the red snakeskin?” I pointed at the armband of a Farod's soldier. “Those who wear it are the enemy.” I shielded Agor with my body. “Leave this one alone. He’s on our side.”

Agor heard me. Glancing over his shoulder, he flashed me a smirk before smashing the head of another Farod’s orc.

“Go fight that one.” I shoved Martha toward another orc charging at us. He tripped over his own feet as Martha lunged in attack at him, screaming on top of her lungs and brandishing the frying pan over her head.

These many orcs didn’t come here by chance. It was a planned attack, and they came here to win.

I glanced back again to check on Faeena. Gleb was fighting with an orc now, and she had both their children with her, trying to take them to the community hall. Staying in wagons was no longer safe. People carried children and led their elders to the hall that was easier to defend.

Ilya ran past me, screaming while being chased by an orc.

Swinging my sword, I sank into a crouch. My blade cut across Ilya’s attacker’s shin, just above his boot. He tripped and fell, raising a cloud of dust into the air.

“Pick on someone your own size,” I snapped, bringing my sword down onto the orc’s neck. “Ilya! Help Faeena, please.”

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