A ripping sound, then Laney gasps.
“There’s a bunch of salted jerky in here.”
“Salted jerky?” My belly grumbles. We’ve had nothing to eat for days but roots and berries. Protein sounds like the cure for my trembling limbs. “Start tossing it down.”
We stack the jerky and some hardtack bread too. The bread is not appetizing in the least and requires half a waterskin to wash down a mouthful, but it’s sustenance, and I can’t bear to leave it behind.
“Okay, that’s enough.” I put my hands on my hips and stare at the collection we’ve amassed. “That’s all we can carry up the hill at once. I think we should load it on the wagon and get on the road north.”
“Why north?”
“Because the army that won this battle headed south, judging by the tracks.”
We carry our burdens up the hill and down the other side. I’m glazed with sweat by the time we make it to the bottom. Our wagon has seen better days, but it still functions. Ditto for the old onager that pulls it. The donkey brays and flicks its ears in worry.
“What’s wrong, girl?” I ask, putting my hand on her neck.
“Maybe she doesn’t like thieves.”
I turn around quickly, one hand falling to the hilt of the curved sword I don’t even know how to use. A group of six orcs stands nearby, all of them wearing black leather with splashes of crimson. I know the symbol on their armor, a wavy red line with a fanged mouth. The Red Wyrm Clan.
Not one of the orc clans that live peaceably with humans, not by a long shot. I wouldn't be so worried if it were the Crimson Sun Clan.
“Laney,” I whispered so only she could hear me. “I want you to run. Now. As far and as fast as you can.”
“But I want to help ...”
“Remember what Grampa said?” I snap. “I’m in charge. Now run! I’ll find you later.”
Laney gives me a withering look, then turns and bolts up the hill toward the battlefield.
“Neska, go get the little one,” one of the orcs says. “She’s just about the right size for the stewpot.”
“You won’t touch her!”
I manage to draw the sword without looking like a total novice, but as soon as I hold the awkward weight in my hand, I feel more afraid, not less. The lead orc laughs and looks at his band with a big grin on his face.
“Oh no, whatever will we do? I guess we’d better surrender before this fierce warrior slays us all.” His sarcasm is enough to make the other orcs laugh.
“We just want to be left alone,” I say, my voice trembling and my knees shaking badly. The lead orc casually walks toward me, his weapon still at his side.
“Now, come on,” he says. “All you’re going to do is make things harder on yourself.”
He holds out his hand, palm up.
“Give me the sword.”
Poor choice of words.
I swing the sword down with all my might. The orc leader withdraws his hand, but not quickly enough. He screams as two of his fingers fall almost noiselessly to the grass, rapidly staining the green to red with his blood.
I try to finish him off, but two more orcs are on me before I can take a full breath. One of them batters the sword right out of my hand, leaving my whole arm numb. The other grabs my shirt collar and throws me into the trunk of a tree.
I fly backward, and then everything gets hazy for a bit. I think I passed out a couple of times, but I keep forcing myself awake because of Laney. By the time I’m cognizant enough to put two thoughts together, I’m staring out the iron bars of a cage, and Laney is sitting beside me.
I gasp and touch the side of her head. There’s a red welt there. The orcs knocked her out brutally. I guess if they want to eat her, they don’t care if they scramble her brains.
I fear the orcs are going to do even worse with me than they will with her. I reach into the secret pocket sewn into my pantaloons. The knife is still there. They didn’t even bother to search me.