Page 66 of Orc's Claim
“My sword will be blooded today, Ryko. Will it be your blood or another’s?”
Sometimes I don’t understand my grak. We are alone on this shoreline.
I step forward and swing harder than before. This time, his sword clashes with mine, but he holds the stance. He doesn’t look worried, which is precisely what worries me.
Atox is not an overconfident male by any means. He earned the title of grak. Took it from his sire, a vekking evil male who deserved what Atox did to him.
“I’ve changed my mind, Ryko. The female you knotted will do nicely in my furs. I will demand the humans give her to me aswell. I will use another for breeding and slake my needs with your female. Night after night?—”
In a blinding surge of rage, I wield my sword, swing after swing, relentless, eager to blood my blade in my grak as images of him touching my Lily assault me.
“This is amusing. Two orcs trying to kill each other,” a voice I can’t place distracts me and I make the mistake of turning my head to see who dare intrude.
“Wait your turn, vint,” Atox says as his fist and not his sword connects with my face.
In the second before my face explodes in pain, I glimpse a vint standing ten feet away, leaning against a tree, casual and relaxed, as if he belongs.
Blood oozes from my broken nose, but I’m alive, and that puzzles me, especially with a vint observing. I hold my sword before me, in a defensive position, not sure if I should point it at the vint or my grak.
“What the vekk is going on, Grak?”
Atox merely grunts and walks away from me to speak with the vint.
I recognize the vint finally. He was among those who attacked me and threatened my female. His right arm supports his left wrist where Atox broke it. His tail swishes along the dirt slowly, as if he’s agitated but cautious.
My grak withdraws a knife from his harness. A vint knife, given the markings. Vints do not give up their knives as they believe those knives are tied to their souls.
“Your payment.” My grak hands the male the knife. “Now leave and remain silent about all you’ve seen or I will cut off your tongue, then your balls, and finally your tail.”
The male’s tail curls around his waist as he leans in and grabs the knife. As soon as his fingers wrap around the knife, the vint races into the woods.
The second the vint disappears from sight, my grak whirlsaround, facing me with fire in his eyes. “You are banned from the markets of Pen’Kesh and from ever approaching the human colony. Is that clear?”
Banned…. No! I’ll never see Lily again.
“Grak—”
“I’m vekking tempted to kill you, Ryko, but I need you. You’re one of my best fighters.Whenyou’re focused. But I won’t have the others believing they can disobey me without consequences. Harsh consequences.”
“Grak Narzik would have beheaded me.” Reminding my grak of such a punishment appears foolish, but he knows the truth as well as I do. I’m still trying to puzzle out what he’s planning, and how I can protect my Lily.
“I amnotNarzik the Cruel,” Atox growls. “Though I have not ruled out killing you. Prove your worth, Ryko. Meet Sojek at the falls by Mount Lisk. He has your gorja and supplies for you.”
“Supplies?” Hearing that one word sickens me as I suspect what’s happening is worse than being banned from Pen’Kesh.
Exile. I cannot fathom the idea. Of being stripped from my people, never to see them again.
Lily’s face appears in my mind. The sting of exile brings incredible pain, but Lily is my salvation.
“I won’t leave without my female.”
“Still disobeying me?” The sound of steel sliding against leather raises every alarm in me as Atox draws his broadsword and holds it at the height of my shoulders. “Convince me to spare your life.”
I grip a knife, slap it to my chest, but I don’t fall to my knees as I’ve seen other races do. Showing weakness would only insult my grak.
“I cannot sway you, grak. Nor will I shame myself in attempting to do so.”
He drags the tip of his sword along the dirt, circling me until a simple line in the ground separates us.
