Page 18 of Agor the Merciless
“You must eat.” Pira broke off a piece of bread. “You must keep your strength. No good will come from starving to spite the captain.”
The female orc held the food to Zoe’s lips. Her pride fought the hunger, but her stomach cramped, a low growl betraying her. She gave in, parting her lips to accept small bites. The bread was warm, the crust giving way to a soft inside. The dried meatfollowed, tough and stringy, flavored with smoke and unfamiliar herbs. Pira followed each bite with sips of cool water from a clay cup.
“There.” Pira nodded after Zoe swallowed the last morsel. “Better.”
She didn’t rise from the bed. Instead, she shifted her weight, tucking one leg under her. The quiet company loosened the rigid set of Zoe’s shoulders.
“Tarn cannot stop talking about you,” Pira said, her tusks gleaming as she smiled. “Says you fixed the engine when his father couldn’t. Said your hands knew the answer before your head asked the question.”
Despite everything, a flicker of pride cut through Zoe’s anger. “Just experience. I’ve been doing it since I was a kid.”
“He calls you Zoe Fire-Hands now.” Pira’s laugh was light and cheerful. “Says your fingers move through metal parts faster than his eyes can follow.”
“Fire-Hands,” Zoe repeated, the corner of her mouth lifting. “I’ve been called worse.”
“Grol was impressed, too. Won’t admit it to anyone but me.” Pira leaned closer, her breath warm. “He grunted three times when telling me about you. Three! That is high praise from him.”
Zoe laughed. The situation was absurd: bound to a wall, being fed by an orc, discussing another orc’s approving grunts.
“Hestra says your eyes miss nothing,” Pira continued. “Says you saw the balance in her arrows when even warriors don’t pay attention.”
“She’s the real artist. Those arrowheads curved just right.”
“And Zana wants to teach you tanning. She never offers to teach.” Pira’s eyes were bright in the low candlelight. “You even scared Roric. He dropped his hammer when you walked to his forge. Thought you were a fire spirit in human skin.”
The horde had seen her, the parts of herself her own family had tried to bury.
Pira reached for Zoe’s bound hands, her callused fingertips sliding underneath the rope to ease the pressure.
“One day among us, and already you belong.”
“Then why did Agor do this? He promised I could do whatever makes me happy. Then he dragged me from the garage like I’d committed a crime.”
Pira sighed. “The captain protects what is his. Sometimes he grips too tight, crushing what he means to hold safe.”
“This isn’t protection. It’s control.”
“No.” Pira shook her head, beads in her braids clicking. “Control is a plan made in the head. The captain burns in his blood. There is a difference.”
Frankly, Zoe didn’t see it, and she didn’t even really understand Pira’s words. Must’ve been the fact that the female orc sometimes found it hard to express herself in English, a language she’d probably had to learn on her own.
“You must understand,” Pira insisted. “Two brides came before you. They were bright with promise, until they shattered against his needs.”
“He mentioned that,” Zoe said. “What happened?”
“The first, Leah, with her red hair, came to us full of smiles. But when the captain wanted to claim her as he claimed you, she cried until dawn, begging to go home. He didn’t even touch her, really. He couldn’t.”
“And the second?”
“Elena. She stood tall, with dark, steady eyes. She made him wait three nights for her to feel ready, then when he could wait no longer, she broke down.”
“Because of the sex?” Zoe asked bluntly. “The spanking?”
Pira nodded. “The captain needs what he needs. It hurts him when women cannot bear his desires.”
“So, I passed his test, and now I’m his prisoner?”
“No, no. You misunderstand. The captain fears.”
