Page 37 of Orc's Little Human
"Nothing yet," Jorth says, stepping closer with the lazy confidence of someone who knows his prey can't escape. "But that'll change once we drag you to the center of camp and show everyone what happens to cursed humans."
I surge to my feet, the furs falling away as adrenaline floods my system. My body remembers what it feels like to fight for survival, muscles coiling with the desperate strength of someone who has nothing left to lose.
"Don't touch her!" Thali throws herself at Jorth's legs, her small fists pounding against his thick hide armor. "Don't you dare touch her!"
She's defending me.The realization hits me, stealing what little breath I have left. This child—this fierce, brave, impossible child—is putting herself between me and three grown warriors because she thinks I'm worth protecting.
Family.The word echoes again, but this time it doesn't feel like a foreign concept. It feels like something I'd kill to preserve.
Jorth reaches down to brush Thali aside, not roughly but with the casual dismissal of someone moving an obstacle. The sight of his massive hands approaching her small form unleashes something primal and violent in my chest.
I launch myself at him before conscious thought can intervene, fingernails raking across his scarred cheek as I slam into his side. He staggers but doesn't fall, surprise giving me amomentary advantage that I use to drive my knee toward his groin.
"Fucking wildcat," he snarls, catching my leg and twisting until pain shoots through my hip. "Should've broken you properly the first time."
Mazg moves to flank me while I'm struggling with Jorth, his broken jaw giving his face a lopsided appearance that makes his grin even more unsettling. "Chief said to bring her alive. Didn't say anything about bringing her unbroken."
Alive.That single word tells me everything I need to know about what they have planned. Whatever public spectacle they want to make of my death, it requires me to be conscious for it.
I wrench myself free from Jorth's grip and stumble toward the wall where Korrath's weapons hang in careful arrangement. My fingers close around the handle of a curved blade, its weight unfamiliar but reassuring in my palm.
"Stay back," I gasp, raising the weapon with hands that shake more from rage than fear. "I swear I'll cut the first one of you who comes near her."
Varok laughs, the sound echoing off the stone walls like breaking glass. "You'll cut us? With what skill? What training? You're a human, girl. A weak, cursed little thing who thinks she can threaten orcish warriors."
He's right.The bitter truth tastes like ashes in my mouth. I've never held a real weapon before, never trained for combat beyond the desperate street fights of my youth. Against three seasoned fighters, I'm nothing more than an annoyance.
But when I look at Thali's terrified face, at the way she's pressed herself against the wall behind me, skill doesn't matter. Training doesn't matter. All that matters is keeping them away from her for as long as possible.
"I don't need skill," I tell him, shifting my grip on the blade. "I just need to make it hurt."
Jorth moves first, darting in from my left while Mazg circles toward my right. I slash wildly with the curved sword, more hope than technique behind the strike. The edge catches Jorth across the forearm, drawing a line of dark blood that makes him curse and stumble back.
First blood to me.The small victory sends fierce satisfaction through my veins, even as I know it won't be enough.
Mazg lunges while I'm focused on his partner, massive hands closing around my wrists with enough force to make bones grind together. The sword clatters to the floor as my fingers go numb, all my desperate strength meaning nothing against his brutal grip.
"Got her," he announces, lifting me off the ground like I weigh nothing. "What now?"
"Now we show the clan what their chief has been keeping as a pet," Varok says, stepping forward to study my face with cold interest. "Drag her to the center of camp. Make sure everyone sees."
"No!" Thali's scream tears through the air as Mazg hauls me toward the door. "Let her go! Korrath won't let you do this!"
Korrath isn't here.The thought follows me as they drag me from the sanctuary of his chambers, from the warm space where I'd started to believe I might actually be safe.And even if he were, what could he do against his own council?
The night air hits my skin like a slap, cold and sharp with the promise of snow. Around the central fire pit, warriors emerge from longhouses and weapon sheds, drawn by the commotion and the prospect of blood. Their faces blur together in the flickering light—some curious, some hungry, all of them eager to see what happens next.
Varok strides ahead of us, his voice carrying easily across the encampment as he calls for the clan to gather. "Come andsee what our chief has been hiding! Come and witness the curse that's corrupted our magic!"
Corrupted.The word only confirms what I've suspected since the moment Korrath's blood-forging flared in my presence. The mark burned into my collarbone isn't just a scar—it's something that affects his power, amplifies it in ways that neither of us understand.
No wonder they want me dead.
Mazg throws me to the ground beside the fire pit with enough force to drive the air from my lungs. The packed earth is cold and hard beneath my palms as I struggle to push myself upright, aware of the circle of warriors forming around us like wolves scenting blood.
Behind us, I can hear Thali's voice raised in protest, but it's muffled now—distant. Someone's holding her back, keeping her from following us into this nightmare.
Grakul.His weathered face appears at the edge of my vision, one massive hand resting on Thali's shoulder as she struggles against his gentle but implacable grip. There's something like sorrow in his dark eyes as he meets my gaze, but also resignation.
