Page 39 of Agor the Merciless
“I can’t go back to the cave,” she said.
The three female orcs stopped what they were doing and looked at her.
“Why not?” Pira asked.
Zoe stared at the floor. “Our room... I can’t be there without him. The memories are too strong.”
Hestra released Zoe’s hand and stood up. “You can sleep in my quarters.”
“Or mine,” Zana offered.
Zoe shook her head and looked around the garage. Tools hung on the walls, parts waited on shelves, half-built engines sat on various benches – problems she could solve with her hands and mind. Here, nothing reminded her of the ointment and how it made her feel.
“My only safe place is here,” she said. “The garage is mine, and I’ll sleep here tonight.”
The three female orcs exchanged glances. They eventually nodded, but reluctantly. The garage was the least comfortable place in the settlement.
“We understand,” Zana said. “I will get furs.”
“I will bring more broth,” Pira added. “For the night.”
“And I will keep watch,” Hestra said.
“You don’t need to stay,” Zoe protested. “I can be alone.”
“No,” Hestra said firmly. “Not tonight.”
Zana left and returned minutes later with an armful of furs. She walked to the back corner of the garage where an orc carstood on blocks, its frame held up while the wheels lay on the ground nearby. The space under the chassis was sheltered.
“This spot,” Zana said, kneeling down. “It will make you feel protected.”
She arranged the furs on the ground, layering them into a nest. Zoe watched her, feeling once again like a child. She should’ve gotten up and made the bed herself, but she had to admit she was feeling too weak and frail. Despite constantly trying to send them away, she needed them and was grateful for their insistence in taking care of her. They were right – she couldn’t be alone tonight, or she might go crazy again and go tearing through the mage’s workshop in search for the damned clay jar.
Grol and Tarn stood near the door, watching and waiting. Pira walked to them and touched them gently on their arms. They were family, Zoe remembered. Tarn looked just like his mother. Grol was reserved and grumpy, but Zoe could see the admiration he had for his wife in his dark, kind eyes.
“Go eat,” she told them. “Then sleep. We’ll stay with her tonight.”
“But the captain…” Grol started.
“The captain trusted her to us,” Pira reminded him. “We will guard her.”
Grol hesitated, then nodded. “Call if you need help.”
“We will,” Pira promised. “Now go. There is food at the main fire.”
The two male orcs left, Tarn looking back several times before Grol put a hand on his shoulder and guided him away.
Zoe watched them go, then turned to the nest Zana had made. She tried to stand, but her legs shook. Hestra stepped forward and helped her up, letting Zoe lean on her arm as they walked to the corner.
“Thank you,” Zoe said as she lowered herself onto the furs. The pelts cushioned her from the hard floor. She looked at the car frame above and noticed how the shelter it provided made her feel calm and like she might actually be able to get in a few hours of sleep.
“Sleep now,” Hestra said. “We will be here.”
Zoe lay down and pulled a fur over herself. The tremors in her body continued, but the warmth helped. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the smell of oil and metal. Sleep came, but rest brought no relief. Behind her closed eyes, images danced – Agor’s hands on her skin, the iron bolt above their bed, the clay jar. The dreams mixed with memory until she couldn’t tell what was real. She called out in her sleep, words that made no sense. Her body twisted on the furs, fighting enemies no one else could see.
The three female orcs kept watch. They took turns sitting near her, changing places when one needed to stretch or drink water. Hestra kept her hunting knife on her lap, alert for any sound from outside. Zana fixed the furs when Zoe’s frantic movements pushed them away. Pira gave her more broth whenever she woke up and was conscious enough to swallow. It was a long night.
The moon moved across the sky as Zoe’s struggle continued in the darkness.
