Page 19 of X'nath

“Maybe she should be the one leading us back,” chuckled Gorruk.

“Hey, I’m not saying Ilikethese odds,” Greag muttered, shaking his head. “But if I had to be stuck in this swamp with anyone, I’d want it to be you idiots.”

Vakgar grinned. “You’re too kind, Greag.”

I smirked at the banter, but couldn’t help feeling the weight of our situation pressing down again. We were no longer fighting the swamp itself; we were fighting the distrust between us and the women we’d taken under our care. We were still strangers to them, and even though we had fought to protect them, that didn’t erase the fear that lived in their eyes.

One of the women, the blonde who had spoken earlier, caught my eye again as she casted a quick glance toward Vakgar, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. It wasn’t much, but it was something. The smallest of victories.

“Look, all I’m saying is, if we get out of here,” Vakgar continued, his voice loud and teasing, “I’m calling dibs on the first bed I can find. None of this muck and swamp nonsense.”

“Sure, Vakgar,” Gorruk said with a chuckle. “Because you’re a real catch.”

“Oh, please,youall know I’d do better than most of you in a real bed.”

Greag laughed. “Don’t get too cocky, Vakgar. You’re still a mess.”

I shook my head, a grin tugging at the corners of my mouth despite myself. “Just keep walking, and keep your eyes on the swamp. We’ll deal with the women later.”

As we pushed forward, the air felt a little lighter, the tension broken by our constant banter. The swamp was still a dangerous place, but for the first time, it didn’t feel like we were facing it alone. And maybe, just maybe, the women would see that we weren’t just monsters with axes. That was, not unless they wanted us to be.

11

The Flight of Dragons

X’NATH

The swamp was behind us now, a murky memory slowly fading with each step we took. The dense trees of the forest stood tall, their thick canopy providing some much-needed shelter from the oppressive sun. We were lucky enough to cross a small lake, where the men and I washed the blood and mud from our hands and faces. The women were also grateful to wash some of the muck off from their limbs.

The air was cooler here, the smell of damp earth mingling with the scent of pine. But there was no time to relax. I could feel the change in the atmosphere, the tension in the air like the calm before a storm.

We had reached the surrounding perimeter of the edge of the mountain range, where the forest began to thin out and the land rose steeply toward the cliffs. I could almost taste the safety that awaited us within the heart of the mountain. But something told me that our journey wasn't over yet.

I was the first to hear it—a low, rumbling roar from overhead. My body stiffened, my hand instinctively going to the hilt of myaxe. The others froze, their eyes scanning the horizon. Greag’s face darkened, his fingers tightening around his weapon.

“Dragons,” Greag muttered under his breath.

Sure enough, the sky above us darkened as two massive shapes circled overhead. Their scales shimmered like obsidian, their wings cutting through the air with a terrifying grace. And on their backs? Orc riders from the Cold Fang Clan, their eyes gleaming with malice. Their scouts.

"We've got company," Karg grunted, his voice low. "And I don’t think they’re here to say ‘hello.’"

"What gave that away?" I replied, my tone darkening. I could see the flicker of recognition in Greag’s eyes—this was no coincidence. The scouts from the cliffs had spotted us, and now they wanted to know who we were and why we were traveling so deep into their territory.

“They’re coming down,” Greag said, his voice low but urgent. “We need to get those women into our mountain—now.”

But before we could react, the dragons dove from the sky, their riders barking orders as they plummeted toward us. One of the riders, a large orc with dark tattoos covering his face, bellowed a command, his voice booming through the trees.

“Stop them! Don’t let them into the mountains!”

The dragons let out deafening roars, their jaws snapping open wide as they descended. The ground shook beneath us as they landed, snapping the tree trunks like twigs, their massive forms creating a terrifying barrier between us and the mountain pass.

“We need to hold them off,” I said, my voice sharp. “Get the women to safety. Greag, you and Karg stay with me. The rest of you—cover the women!”

Without waiting for a response, I charged forward, my axe raised high. Greag and Karg flanked me, ready to fight. Theother orcs spread out, forming a defensive perimeter around the women, their weapons ready for whatever came next.

The other dragon landed with a thunderous crash, its claws digging into the earth as its rider dismounted. The orc rider on the left—larger than the rest, his armor adorned with bones—grinned like he was already counting the gold for our heads.

“Do you really think you can get past us?” he sneered. “You’ll die here, in the forest, with nothing but your blood to offer to the cold mountain.”

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