Page 12 of Agor the Merciless
“Watched my mother. She watched hers.” Zana finally looked up, her eyes assessing. “Your hands. They’re worker’s hands.”
Zoe glanced down at her calloused palms, the half-moon scar on her thumb from a slipped wrench.
“Mechanic. I used to fix broken engines in a previous life.”
The female orc nodded as if this made perfect sense.
“We need both makers and fixers.” She gestured to a frame holding a particularly large hide. “Bear. For the captain’s winter cloak. For you too, now.”
“Beautiful work,” Zoe said.
“No. Not beautiful.” Zana corrected without heat. “Useful. Strong. Will last years.” She returned to her scraping, but her posture had softened slightly. “Come back tomorrow. I’ll show you how, if you want.”
The invitation was unexpected.
“I’d like that.”
Zoe walked past the tanning area, following a well-worn path that led toward the sound of animals. The smell changed from the sharp chemical scent of tanning solutions to the earthy, musky odor of large beasts. The path opened into a wide area where sturdy wooden fences contained the krags.
The beasts were massive, with muscular bodies covered in short fur, with lion-like manes and oversized paws ending in dulled claws. One made a sound between a moo and a growl as a broad-shouldered male brushed its flank with a huge brush.
Zoe approached the fence.
“They’re magnificent.”
The male turned, revealing a gentler face than the others, with a broken tusk and eyes that crinkled at the corners.
“They know when they’re admired.”
As if to prove his point, the nearest krag stretched its neck toward Zoe, nostrils flaring to catch her scent.
“I’m Zoe.”
“Borz the Krag-Tender.”His voice rumbled pleasantly. “I’ve been with them since I was small.”
The krag pushed against the fence, wanting attention. Zoe looked to Borz for permission.
“This is Glinda,” he said. “She’s curious about you. Let her smell your hand first.”
Zoe extended her palm cautiously. The krag’s breath was warm and moist against her skin, its nostrils velvety soft despite its fearsome appearance.
“She likes you,” Borz observed as the beast pushed its massive head against Zoe’s hand, demanding scratches. “They know good hearts.”
Zoe stroked the coarse mane, the beast leaning into her touch.
“What are they exactly? They look part horse, part cow, maybe part lion?”
Borz’s laugh was deep and genuine.
“They are krags. Nothing more, nothing less. In our world, they roamed the plains in great herds. Here, they stay close to us. They miss the open spaces of home, I think.”
“Do you?” Zoe asked quietly. “Miss home?”
He considered this, continuing to brush Glinda’s flank in long, gentle strokes.
“The smells. The big sky. The familiar stars.” He shrugged. “But home is where the horde is. Where the krags are safe.”
Glinda butted her head against Borz’s chest, nearly knocking him off balance. He rubbed her ears affectionately.
