by Trevor Zex
Teza began to look past his differences and see him. To truly see him.
He caught her stare. His lips twitched. “I’m not the ugliest of my kind,” he joked.
“No, not at all. I mean, I’m sorry.” She blushed and struggled for words. He was too perceptive for any false sentiments. “You aren’t ugly. Your eyes are wonderful,” she finished, lacking practice in flattery and flirtation. She reached out and touched his hand.
They held still.
Betrayal
TEZA FOUND A PRIVATE place to relieve herself. She crouched behind a boulder several paces from the rocks deformed by the dragon’s fire. She mused on how adventure tales are never inconvenienced by the call of nature.
She never imagined herself needing to hide from a large group of orcs in order to take a piss. The rush of relief flooded her with well being. It was remarkable how simple bodily things could make everything feel better. Released from the immediacy of terror, happy to be alive, she noticed the veins in the giant boulders and bright patches of moss glowing like Shellaq’s eyes in the fading sunlight.
She recalled the sparkling veins in Gark’s stream moss dark eyes. Glimmers of new-leaf green caught and held her when she looked into them. She’d sensed if she kept looking, she’d see her future. She shook herself, still feeling the stroking of his immense, calloused hands on her shoulders. Everything about the giant orc unsettled her.
Birds whistled to each other. A fox in its winter coat hurried past on small feet. The icy breeze prompted her to freshen up fast with melted snow and tug her tunic back in place. The rumbles of the orcs and occasional voices of her people reached her.
She rushed back to Shellaq and Gark.
The orc appeared relaxed, and he smiled at her.
Warmth suffused her that he trusted her. She flinched inside. She would have to betray that trust. It wasn’t going to get easier.
He was her captor, an enemy. She must watch for the opportunity to escape. Perhaps it had been the nearness of death or the icy cold on her bare ass, but she’d snapped out of her lulled senses, her seduction by the masterful orc, and remembered her duty.
The orc had abducted her, she owed him nothing. She owed it to her parents to see her journey through. She was the bride of King Harsah. He awaited her for their wedding. She had to reach him as soon as she could. He might be pacing, awaiting her. If not for the abduction and the avalanche, she would be at his palace having her hair brushed and dressed, her lips rouged, her best crown adorned with delicate winter blossoms. All her life she’d been promised for the crown prince of Akkak.
With a deep breath, she steeled herself for what she must do.
Gark cleared his throat and she jumped.
“Would you like to give Shellaq a treat?” Gark held out a small lump.
Teza gulped. “Yes. She did well by us. I mean, she’s fast and kept me safe. I’m grateful. Thank you.” She stopped the bumbling speech.
She accepted the dried fruit, leaned forward, and extended it on her palm.
With delicate lips, the animal took the treat and gave a soft sound of appreciation. Shellaq’s voice reminded Teza of cooing doves.
Gratified and more at ease, she nonetheless tensed as Gark stepped closer. He gripped her waist, lifted her, and deposited her on the saddle.
His brute strength thrilled her.
She rode astride in the manner of the women of her lineage, grateful for her full-cut tunic so she needn’t expose her legs to the leering orcs.
A hunched warrior eyed her and approached closer to ogle her bouncing breast. Gark growled and the scarred orc dropped behind them.
The sun hung low in the sky in a drift of apricot and strawberry veils. The golden light gilded Gark’s skin. His thick, brawny arms brushed hers to pat Shellaq as they rode.
“Gark, I’m curious you ride with saddles but without reins. How do you direct Shellaq?”
“It’s another orc mystery.” A smile warmed his voice. “We raise our mounts with great care, feeding them by hand and accustoming them to our voices, and we train them. When a pown chooses a rider, a bond is forged. It’s similar to the bond between dragon and rider. The link between pown and rider makes us team, so in tune that we react as one. It is one of our greatest orc mage advantages in life as well as in battle.”
The warmth in his voice gave her a pang of jealousy. She shook herself and sighed. She could not be jealous of an animal, but she was.
“That’s astonishing and such a gift to have a close understanding with another species.” Her voice roughened.
She felt the loss of her horse. Given the dangers of the journey, it comforted her that she was safe in the palace stables. She’d kissed her and the stable woman, big, gruff Elmlan goodbye, exacting a promise that her horse would receive her greatest care.
A tear slipped out. She backhanded it away, grateful that she sat in front of Gark, and he couldn’t see her face. She thought about the bond between the orc mage and his mount as they continued on. The careful pace of the pown’s rocking gait lulled her, although her body thrummed with adrenaline. She remained alert for flapping wings. What would it be like to be so attuned to anything or anyone that the other could respond to your feelings, wants and thoughts? Desire stabbed between her legs.
Darkness shrouded them as they emerged from the pass. Coming into the open after the long ride between the the treacherous chasm and mountain flanks gave her a deep sense of relief. She possibility of another dragon attack or a battle with non-mage orcs had kept her alert and anxious for many hours. Teza slumped and felt Gark’s hard muscles supporting her back, giving her a solid place to rest.
She longed to remain there but pulled herself upright. She rejected the urge to lean on him and surrender to becoming his woman. Her fate and duty dictated otherwise.
Light shown from windows ahead and spilled onto unmarked snow.
“Where are we?”
“This is the village, Kaersohn. It is the only human village near my city. The people do not trouble us. With our powerful protections and our glamors, our city remains unknown to them. Their tales casting us as horrific ogres who will eat them serve us well.”
“I’ve never heard of it. I didn’t know our kind lived so far from palaces.”
“Have you heard such tales of orcs, that we punish and eat bad girls, Princess?”
“Yes.” Her face flamed.
“You understand, then. They’re loathe to encounter us.” He chuckled.
Her heart sank. She was not ready to leave him, but putting it off would make it more difficult.
“That’s good,” she said, to be polite, but her mind wasn’t on conversation.
Teza eyed the village ahead. Lantern light and hearth fires flickered from mullioned windows. The pub and small houses stood out as dark outlines against the starry night sky.
She had the advantage of the darkness and her speed. The orcs were powerful, but during the battle, most of them were ungainly. A few like Gark could move with surprising grace and stealth. She could outrun him.
The the sturdy beast blew its breath in a purr under her, as though sensing food and rest was near.
Teza had no idea how fast Shellaq could run on a road unimpeded by the rigors of a mountain trail. She could escape between close-set houses. She’d climb fences and squeeze through places a pown couldn’t follow her.
She pulled in a long breath, gathering all her nerve. This was her only chance. She had to take a horse or get a ride in a carriage. Any way she could do it, she must get to Akkak.
She loathed having to leave her people, but the orcs fed them and weren’t mistreating them. Her remaining a captive would do them no good. She glanced around, but Zenar was with the others ahead. She couldn’t reach her handmaiden to tell her what she was doing, and had no way to pass a note.
Once she arrived at the palace in Akkak, she could get help to rescue them. She hated to think of anyone being injured in battle. Please, not Gark, she prayed, and no
t Zenar, nor any of her good servants and guards. She could do nothing for them by remaining a prisoner.
She sat straight, raising her head. She’d come so close to letting the stranger seduce her, but she was a princess of her people. She had responsibilities to fulfill. She eased her back, shifting her seat on the saddle. Surreptitiously, she stretched her legs, preparing for the coming effort. Getting off of Shellaq without Gark preventing her presented the greatest challenge.
They entered the village. Gark drew up in front of the pub, guiding Shellaq by silent signal. He leaped down and offered his hands.
Her prayers were answered. She accepted his assistance and joined him on the ground. Her ankles felt stabs like icicles as they took her weight on the snow.
“Go and refresh yourself. There’s a privy in back. The owner is a friend of mine. He won’t mind.”
Teza nodded and hid her face in her hair. She rushed away, not wanting to look into his face, not wanting him to see betrayal in her eyes. She ached inside at what she must do. She glanced back.
He stood, patting Shellaq, murmuring in the beast’s great ear. He wasn’t watching her. He trusted her.
A pang tore through her. She didn’t want to do it, but she must. She broke into a run, grateful for a trail of hard-packed snow behind the pub, and headed behind the privy so that it would shield her escape. She gathered her skirts up to her hips and vaulted over a fence. She climbed a wall into the next yard, her muscles complaining after the hours of riding.
A stitch stabbed at her side as she ran.
A dog set up baying. Shouts rose from the houses.
She did not stop, she did not look back. With single-minded purpose, she raced through the village. Finding a horse or carriage seemed impossible. If she stole one, she might be caught and whipped in the public square and then set to work for her crime. Her hands would bleed. She knew no work but riding, and training with a sword.
She mastered her mind. She mustn’t allow bad thoughts to take her off track. She had to get out of this village. She had to escape the orcs. Her instincts made her want to run and keep running, because she never wanted to see Gark’s face once he realized what she’d done.
She pounded over icy leaves into full night at the edge of the village.
In the darkest shadows at the forest edge, she decided to hide until the orcs were away. When it was safe, she’d double back to the pub and find someone to take her to Akkak. With a coin from her boot, she’d get to safety.
She would save her people. Perhaps they wouldn’t have to engage in battle. Perhaps she’d send an emissary from Akkak to buy her peoples’ freedom. The orcs seemed practical. She could send enough coins from her bride price to make a fair exchange for the captives. That’s what she would do. She would liberate them without bloodshed. She’d never met her bridegroom, but if he was as good a person as Gark, he’d agree to what she needed to do. He must. Abandoning her people to the orcs was unthinkable.
Sticks broke inside the forest. The black trees towered over her, many times an orc in height. A ray of moonlight made her mindful that she stood exposed. She hesitated and entered the woods. If he came this way in search of her, the thick trees would hide her.
The old gnarled trees offered shelter from the icy wind. Without the huge orc mage at her back, the cold cut through her.
She rolled her tunic at the waist and clasped her hands within the fold. She’d left him and now she was alone. Her footfalls made loud cracks, disturbing the forest. Slowing, she stepped more lightly on the crackling leaves.
Grunts and the smell of unwashed bodies surrounded her. Hard hands clamped her arms.
Teza yelled a battle cry. She grieved her sword lost down the cliff.
The bulky shadows hulking around her obliterating the trees identified her assailants as orcs. The hairy arms of the ones closest to her identified them as the full-blooded, bestial kind. This gang didn’t come from Gark’s city. She was in trouble.
More of them than she could count pinned her arms and tackled her legs. They landed on her with grunts that sounded like rutting animals. She had no doubts what they would do to her.
Mortified, horrified at the trouble she’d brought on herself, her heart caught in her chest. She hated to do it. Humiliation bitter as bile burned her throat. She had no recourse other than to obey him. She struggled to get a leg free of the pawing hands and to use her elbows to loosen the attackers, but there were too many. They were stronger than the strongest men she knew. She’d seen respect in master Yolo’s eyes. She was strong—for her size. Tiny, compared to orcs.
She filled her lungs and hollered. “Gark. Gark. I’m here—in the woods. Help me. Help!”
A foul hand clamped her mouth.
Twisting her arms, she fought to get free. She stomped their feet. She lashed with her elbows, but they were too strong. They held her pinned. She could not get loose from them. They pressed closer, their strange, hard, hairy bodies becoming much too intimate, crowding her rutting at her with their club-like erections.
She could barely breathe. Desperate, she bit the hand against her mouth. It let go and clubbed her head.
Someone squeezed her ribs so hard, her breath stopped.
With a hoarse gasp, she panted in panic, fighting the fear of passing out in their clutches. She had to fight. She went limp, hoping to fool them, and lashed out again.
They laughed, they spoke a guttural orcish that sounded full of dirty words.
They handled her. They handled her like beasts, they lusted for her, they prepared to rut with her. Their enormous hands grabbed her between the legs, yanked at her hair, and pulled at her tunic, grabbing her all over. Rustling clothing told her the exposed and reached for their erections.
Slick sounds surrounded her as they stroked their cocks.
Teza tried not to think of their too-large cocks rampant, preparing to defile her, all of them at once. She knew what they wanted to do to her, how they thrilled to destroy her. So many things kept arriving in her mind in vivid detail since she met Gark, strange unbidden knowledge. In this case, knowledge she did not want.
The horror of it paralyzed her. She knew their longing to punish her. The wanted to rend her openings and break her, to take her apart with their violent fucking.
She called on all her energy. Twisting abruptly, she strove to get loose from their hold on her arms. With all her being, she wanted to obey the rest of Gark’s orders to run for her life. These were the bad orcs, these were the very worst orcs, and she needed to get away before they fucked her to death.
They pressed closer, stealing her air. They rubbed on her, humping at her ass, hips and thighs. Their cocks stabbed at her body. They ripped at her tunic.
Her rage and humiliation fueled her to spit at them, to curse them, to gouge with her nails, to flail at them with her elbows and kicks, desperate to disable them. Fierce in her urgency, she yanked a leg free. She smashed at their balls with donkey kicks.
They would not outrage her body. She would not allow it. She would swallow her tongue if she must, but first she’d do everything she could to hurt them.
Teza howled like a banshee. She stomped and kicked with her hard-soled boots.
A heavy hand punched her a ringing blow in the temple.
Her vision blackened and turned to wine.
One gripped her breasts, squeezing them hard. Another gathered her skirt up over her ass. His cock probed at her.
She evaded him, pulling her hips away, donkey kicking with all her might, gratified to hear a yell.
A thud told her he hit the ground, but there were too many. They punched at her.
Her strength faltered. Hands pinioned her kicking leg.
A roar split the night. “Unhand her.”
Gark. She released her breath and stifled a sob of relief. Gark found her.
No, oh no. Her stomach clenched. She didn’t hear anyone with him, and there were too many attackers. She feared for him.
“Gark. I’m su
rrounded. Don’t risk yourself.”
“No fear.” In the dim moonlight, his tusks shined and his eyes gleamed. “I am the mage Gark. You would do well to let her go and run for your lives.”
He didn’t reach for his battle ax. Nor his sword. He didn’t use his big club. He wielded a staff. Raising it over his head, he aimed it at the orcs imprisoning her with their bodies. One fool continued striving to break through her clenched ass.
Blinding light flared over them, a bolt of lightning from his staff. Thunder cracked. Crashing shocks blared through the forest. It sounded as though the gods roared to split the sky and earth.
The enemy screamed. They let go of her, covering their eyes.
Teza covered her ears. She twisted to the side, but the orc behind her caught her in a choke hold.
The others bared their teeth at Gark, yellowed tusks gleaming. They crouched and raised their weapons, fierce in their terror.
Her assailant left off attempting to penetrate her and threw her over his shoulder.
She pounded him with her fists, aiming at where she thought an orc’s kidneys might be, but he didn’t falter.
He broke out of the circle and into the forest, carrying her away from Gark.
Power
TEZA WRITHED, GRABBING at the orc’s rough garment and pulling herself upright. Spikes on his brutal armor cut her breasts. With all her power, she torqued herself to lean over his other shoulder and stabbed his eyes with the victory fingers jab. The orc howled and dropped her.
The impact hurt her ankle. She rolled away from the orc crashing above her, getting well out of his way. The rocky ground pained the bruises on her arms and thighs where the orcs gripped her.
The orc who carried her off held his eyes, stomping at the ground and kicking with pure hatred.
“I’ll kill you, princess. I’ll rip you apart and feed you to the boars.” He cackle-screamed as he stomped.
She crawled to a patch of bare earth so crackling leaves wouldn’t give away her position. With the help of a boulder, she pulled herself upright. Pain lanced through her ankle. She hissed.
