Chapter 11

Becca

W e never ended up having tea that night. After Agor made me come a few more times, and I gave him the longest orgasm he’d ever had, we used the warm water to wash instead.

Afterwards, we crawled into my bed that used to feel spacious when I slept alone, but suddenly felt tiny with Agor’s bulk crammed into it with me. I didn’t mind the loss of space. Snuggling into his wide chest and sliding my bare feet between his shins, I felt comfy and warm.

“Wake me up if I oversleep.” He yawned. “I need to leave before the sun is up.”

“Dumpling will have to go out to pee soon. He’ll wake us up,” I murmured into his chest with my eyes closing.

Thoroughly satisfied and utterly exhausted, we were supposed to just have a quick nap for an hour or two before Agor had to sneak out into the woods again.

But instead of Dumpling’s needy whimpering, it was a loud terrified scream that woke us up.

With the speed of an air sprite, Agor shot out of bed, making it groan and creak.

“It’s Faeena.” I climbed out too. “Probably found another boar on my porch...”

Then I realized that there was no one to leave a boar today. Agor was with me, just putting his pants on. Forgoing his shirt and belt, he shoved his feet into his boots and grabbed his mace.

Alarm pushed me into action too. Throwing a tunic on, I grabbed my sword and shoved the door open.

Faeena lay on the ground in front of her wagon. Blood soaked her flowery headcloth and stained the wet sheet she’d dropped on the ground under her. Her washing basin was upturned with the soapy water spilled over the grass and the packed-dirt path.

“Faeena!” Gleb ran from their wagon, then dropped to his knees by his wife.

I froze in horror at the sight of my wounded, motionless friend on the ground. Rage rushed in next, and an all-consuming need for vengeance. Faeena had never hurt a fly. Her only fault was that she was awake and doing the laundry at this early hour.

A huge orc climbed over the fence of the settlement. Sighting the sword in my hand, he dropped the rock he’d probably planned to throw at Gleb next and raised his mace instead. If he was the one who threw a rock at Faeena, my rage got a target.

“You bastard,” I gritted through my teeth, leaping from the porch over all three steps.

A roar of fury bubbled in my throat as I charged at him. Anger gave me strength as I slashed through the air with my sword, aiming for the orc’s thick neck.

Sadly, he turned just in time, taking the blow on his arm instead. My blade slid across his bulging muscles, leaving a long cut that would’ve disabled a human’s arm but only made the orc wince.

“What do you know? The kitten can scratch.” He smirked, swinging his mace that would flatten me into a pancake if it came down.

A knife swished through the air, thrown so hard, it embedded into the orc’s head all the way up to its handle. As the dead orc crashed to the ground, Agor appeared from behind me.

He shoved his foot against the dead orc’s throat, then yanked his knife out of his head.

“She’s not a kitten.” He spat on the corpse. “She’s a woman. And she likes dogs.”

I twirled my sword in my hand. “I had it, you know. I would’ve been fine. But thanks, anyway.”

He nodded with a grunt.

I glanced back, ready to run to Faeena. But people rushed out of their wagons, wielding whatever weapons everyone had. And just in time, it seemed. As more orcs climbed over the fence and into the settlement.

“Who are these assholes?” I asked Agor, gripping my sword with both hands. “These aren’t the orcs from your keep, are they?”

“No.” He ripped a ribbon of red snakeskin from the dead orc’s arm. “These are Farod’s men. They wear the crimson viper’s skin.”

“Is Farod—” I didn’t finish my question as an orc attacked Agor from behind.

I jumped aside then forward, stabbing the attacker with my sword. As he stumbled, Agor hit him with his mace, smashing the back of his head open. The orc dropped face down—dead.

I wiped my hair out of my face with my forearm.

“You know,” I said, “they’re much easier to kill with your help.”

He grinned, his eyes lighting up.

“Let’s do it then. Stay with me. We’ll fight together.”

He whipped around, meeting another orc head on. Their maces clashed with a sound that shook the ground like an earthquake.

I ducked and sank my blade under the orc’s ribs. He jerked, his mace shifting. Agor shoved at him sideways, then finished him with a blow to his head.

The orcs ambushed the settlement from every direction. My people met them with knives, swords, and whatever else one had.

Martha jumped onto the back of a short, stout orc, hammering him with a cast-iron pan over his head. Cradling his broken arm in a sling, Stephen, her husband, stabbed the orc with a long butcher knife he held in his uninjured hand.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Faeena sitting up with Gleb’s help. Relief flooded my chest. She was alive, but Gleb had to get her out of the yard where a real battle was unfolding now.

“I’ve got your back, Becca,” Agor assured me, smashing heads left and right with his massive mace.

It was still new to me to trust an orc in a fight. But this was Agor. He’d saved my life before, and I knew I could lean on him with no reservations. He’d have my back, no matter what.

As he locked his mace with yet another orc, Martha rushed Agor, wielding her frying pan over her head. I stepped in her path. My sword clashed with her pan, deflecting the blow meant for Agor.

“See the red snakeskin?” I pointed at the armband of a Farod's soldier. “Those who wear it are the enemy.” I shielded Agor with my body. “Leave this one alone. He’s on our side.”

Agor heard me. Glancing over his shoulder, he flashed me a smirk before smashing the head of another Farod’s orc.

“Go fight that one.” I shoved Martha toward another orc charging at us. He tripped over his own feet as Martha lunged in attack at him, screaming on top of her lungs and brandishing the frying pan over her head.

These many orcs didn’t come here by chance. It was a planned attack, and they came here to win.

I glanced back again to check on Faeena. Gleb was fighting with an orc now, and she had both their children with her, trying to take them to the community hall. Staying in wagons was no longer safe. People carried children and led their elders to the hall that was easier to defend.

Ilya ran past me, screaming while being chased by an orc.

Swinging my sword, I sank into a crouch. My blade cut across Ilya’s attacker’s shin, just above his boot. He tripped and fell, raising a cloud of dust into the air.

“Pick on someone your own size,” I snapped, bringing my sword down onto the orc’s neck. “Ilya! Help Faeena, please.”

The boy nodded, looking eager to get out of the action. He was excellent with children, kind, and always happy to help. The one thing Ilya hadn’t been able to master, no matter how much I’d trained him, was the swordsmanship. Sadly, the elders believed it was a man’s duty to fight and the less a boy was apt to it, the more he should be pushed into it.

I finished the orc on the ground, but two more were already rushing my way. Agor had his hands full, too, fighting three orcs at once.

Meeting one of my attackers with my sword, I evaded the blow of the other. Gleb jumped to my aid, slicing through the neck of one of the orcs.

“Thanks.” I nodded, stabbing the other one in his side.

Simon ran past me without any weapons. He had almost made it across the open space in front of the hall when a huge orc caught him, then lifted him by his shirt.

“Weak, pathetic human,” the orc growled. “You and your ilk should’ve stayed in whatever hole you’ve crawled out of to come to the wetlands.”

“Let me go!” Simon shrieked, his voice high from panic, his feet dangling in the air.

The orc boomed with derisive laughter. “If human males are so pathetic, how is a human female running around killing my men?”

His men...

Blood chilled in my veins as I parried yet another blow from the orc I was fighting with.

Was the one who trapped Simon Farod himself?

“ She did it!” Simon yelled with hope. “Is that what it’s all about? Is that why you came here? She is the one who killed him.” He pointed at me with both hands. “Get her and let me go.”

Gleb and I were in the middle of fighting another orc who just wouldn’t go down. I ducked, getting away from his axe.

Farod placed his giant hand on Simon’s face and gave his head a slight twist. That was all it took to snap the man’s neck. Simon’s body drooped lifelessly. The orc tossed it aside, his eyes firmly on me as he headed in my direction.

I threw a quick look around.

There were far more orcs than humans inside the fence now.

With Ilya’s help, Faeena got her children into the hall and now was helping other parents to do the same, ignoring her blood-soaked headcloth and unsteady steps.

Stephen stabbed an orc in his back, while his wife used her frying pan to knock another one unconscious. Elder Kazimir tripped an orc with his walking stick, then Artyom shoved a spear through the orc’s belly.

My people had hardened in our fight for survival over the years. We weren’t going down easily, but the odds weren’t on our side. It took at least two humans to kill an orc. But with more orcs rushing into the settlement, there soon would be two orcs against each human.

We were grossly outnumbered.

Doomed.

Separated from me during the fight, Agor saw Farod charging me. He roared, baring his teeth, but his three attackers kept him busy. Smashing his mace into one of them, he ripped his throat open with his tasks. The fourth orc crashed into his back, a long knife in his hand aimed at Agor’s neck. Agor gripped his wrist, stopping the blow, but he simply wouldn’t be able to get to me in time.

I was on my own.

Crouching down, I thrust my sword out, aiming for Farod’s legs as he approached. He leaped up in his mad dash for me. My blade sliced through his pants but barely scratched his leg underneath.

I jumped aside as he brought his mace down. One of the metal spikes on the bulbous end of the mace tore a long hole in the sleeve of my tunic. Pain scorched my upper arm. Blood soaked the fabric around the tear.

I met the next blow of his mace with my sword. Metal clashed with metal, sparks flying. The impact jolted my wrists with searing pain, knocking my sword out of my hands.

Farod sneered, raising his mace for another blow. There was no time to pick up my sword. All I could do was run.

Spinning on my heel, I dashed across the settlement. Another orc tripped me. I hit the ground hard, then rolled, barely avoiding Farod’s mace. The heavy weapon hit the dirt next to my shoulder with so much force, the ground reverberated from the blow.

I rolled away, scrambled to my feet, then leaped onto Farod’s back. Hooking my arms around his thick neck and my legs around his torso, I held on for my dear life.

Farod growled, my entire body vibrating from the sound. He jerked his head back, but I ducked my face to his shoulder, avoiding the crushing blow of his bald skull against mine. He grabbed with his free hand for my left arm, but I hid it behind his back. When he grabbed for my right arm, I switched the arms, holding on with the left and hiding the right one.

He cursed and growled in frustration. Raising his mace, he aimed behind him. I fisted my hand in his long beard and pulled.

“Stop clinging to me like a fucking tree lizard!” He twisted like an eel on a frying pan, trying to shake me off his back.

“Becca!” Agor roared across the square.

Several orcs rushed Agor now. He struggled to stay upright with all of them wrestling him down. Shoving one out of the way, he tossed a knife before going down under the pile of his attackers.

The knife hit Farod in the chest, right against his heart. The handle pulsed with his heartbeat, but the orc barely jerked.

I pulled my body up, reached over his shoulder, and yanked the knife out.

Blood gushed out in a thick, throbbing stream. Farod stepped forward heavily. I slammed the knife into the side of his neck as hard as I could. The blade went in deep, cutting through skin, muscle, and the artery. Pulling the knife out, I slid down from his back as the orc crashed forward.

My muscles trembled. I was covered in blood, wearing only a knee-length tunic. Yet, I didn’t feel the cold, flushed with the heat of the action.

A low, guttural sound of a horn came from the woods. And another wave of orcs rushed into the settlement, following it.

There was no end to this.

No hope of winning or even surviving it.

I couldn’t see Agor anymore, just a pile of dead bodies in the place where he’d been last.

Ilya shoved past me, moving backwards with his sword thrust forward. His eyes bulged out in horror. He’d been defending the community hall but must’ve gotten separated from the others in the chaos of the battle.

An orc raised his sword from behind Ilya. The boy didn’t see that. He looked like he saw nothing and no one, blinded by terror.

“Ilya! Behind you!” I jumped after him, but I was too far to get to him in time, and there was no clear path for me to throw the knife.

Suddenly, a mace smashed Ilya’s opponent on the side of his head. Blood burst out from the orc’s crushed skull. Ilya spun around, holding his sword in front of him. The orc fell forward, impaling his face on Ilya’s sword.

A grinning orc girl stood behind the dead orc. She was wearing an armor that very much resembled my mother’s, only hers was decorated with live flowers on her chest and shoulders. It was Nacy from Agor’s keep.

“Stick with me,” she told Ilya, tipping her chin at the fallen orc. “We make a great team.”

Nodding quickly, Ilya jumped over the corpse to join his rescuer.

Another orc shoved a few dead orcs aside from the top of a high pile, then dragged Agor out by his arm.

“Agor!” I ran to him.

He was covered in blood and gore, but his head seemed intact.

The orc, who helped him, gave him a good shake.

Agor blinked, wiping blood from his face. “Grat?”

“How are you?” I asked Agor while keeping a cautious eye on the orc he called Grat.

Grat was bald, beardless, and as huge as Agor, with a ragged scar running across the right side of his face. The way the scar had healed over his eyelids made it look like Grat was permanently winking at the world.

He grinned at me, letting go of Agor’s arm. “He’ll live.”

Agor stooped forward but managed to stay upright. There was a gaping wound in his shoulder. A broken arrow was sticking out from his back, and another one from his thigh.

Grat took off, joining the battle, seemingly unconcerned about his chief’s state.

“Can you make it to the community hall?” I asked Agor.

“What for?” He fished his mace out of the pile of dead bodies.

“Are you seriously planning to keep on fighting like that?” I gestured at his injuries.

Cupping the back of my head with one hand, he pulled me in for a quick kiss.

“Just a scratch or two, sweetheart.” He beamed, letting me go. “I’ve had worse.”

I opened a mouth to reply, but an orc slammed into me from behind while retreating from another orc.

Agor crushed the head of the one with the red snakeskin on his arm.

“There you go, Karut,” he said to the other orc.

“Thanks, chief!” The orc moved on, charging another one of Farod’s thugs.

Everywhere I looked now, orcs were fighting orcs alongside humans.

Agor’s people had come to our aid. Why or how, I didn’t know. But hope bloomed in my heart.

All was not lost yet.

“Stick with me.” I winked at Agor, echoing Nacy’s words to Ilya. “We make a great team.”

Grabbing someone’s dropped sword from the ground, I stabbed one of the Farod’s orcs in his belly.

“That we do.” Agor grinned, smashing another one’s head with his mace.

I wanted to hold and kiss him until we both ran out of breath. But two more orcs appeared in front of us with their weapons raised over their heads.

“Mine is on the right,” I called quickly, gripping my sword tightly as Agor pivoted to face the one on the left.

Together, we were stronger than just two people. Together, we were a team.