Page 32 of The Orc's Rage

Perhaps this was just what he’d been searching for: another reason for Cedar to want to stay. Something to keep her from running, something to keep her from growing lonely. Something that would bring to life her motherly instincts, perhaps, and prepare her for his orcling.

Oh, yes. This would be perfect. And then she would ride her cat alongside his when theparogmoved again.

He snapped at the stablemaster to retrieve one of the kittens and bring it to his tent while he was away.

“This kitten is young,kazek,” the stablemaster said with a careful amount of uncertainty. “It will have to be fed.”

Even better, Kargorr thought. It would be helpless and small and need Cedar’s constant attention.

“Bring my concubine everything she’ll need to care for it.” He smirked at the warrior, who was now without a cat to ride. “You have served yourparogwell. Stay behind and keep guard. We are still unsure of our surroundings, and an extra set of eyes will be useful.”

The stablemaster emerged with a small, snow-white kitten in his arms, the big fangs only just starting to grow. The creature whimpered as Lord Kargorr bid him to take it to his concubine.

He had made a very smart decision today, and it was barely dawn.

“For the taste of blood,” he called out, holding his axe high into the air, “and for the spoils!”

When he howled, all his warriors howled with him.

17

Cedar

Like yesterday, Rathka did not look at Cedar when she entered the tent with breakfast. It was infuriating, Cedar had to admit, that the orc woman would not engage in even a simple conversation with her when they shared the same language. Though Rathka behaved with deference on the surface, it was obvious to anyone that a mountain’s worth of distaste hid underneath. Her very being dripped with insolence, as if serving Cedar was below her—and it probably was.

While Cedar ate, she debated what to do with her time while Lord Kargorr was absent. She should learn her way around the camp, at the minimum. Perhaps then she would learn where its weaknesses were and could plan the best way to make a silent escape. She sensed that her captor would leave frequently for raids now that the camp had relocated into human lands, which meant at least some time where she was free from observation.

Rathka would have to pee eventually.

Unfortunately, Cedar found a guard posted outside the tent. Female, but a warrior this time, with fierce piercings and many small scars. Cedar ducked back inside the tent, sighing. How long would it take for Kargorr to trust her?

Cedar dressed slowly because there was nothing to hurry for. She didn’t know how long he would be gone, and her only entertainment, the two little children who fawned over Bread Pudding, were easy enough to find tormenting their mother.

It was rather pathetic that her only friends were two barely weaned orcs, but Cedar took what she could.

A knock came at the entryway post, and Rathka jumped to her feet to see who it was. Cedar heard a quiet whimpering that made her turn around with her tunic halfway laced.

Rathka muttered something in Orcish, then turned to Cedar. “Put your clothes on,” she said, finally raising her eyes to Cedar’s, as if she had momentarily forgotten the directive. She dropped them quickly.

“Oh, sure,” Cedar said, finishing and then turning around so she could receive her guest.

An awkward, small orc appeared in the door, and he brought in with him the reek of animal. In his arms was a small white furry creature that Cedar recognized right away as one of the cats the orcs had ridden on their journey.

Rathka glared at the orc carrying the fluffy kitten.

“What is it you want?” she said in the human tongue, probably for Cedar’s benefit. The visitor furrowed his brow in confusion, and so she repeated the question in Orcish, and Cedar committed it to memory. The more she understood what was going on around her, the better she would fare in this strange place.

The orc responded vehemently with a string of words Cedar couldn’t understand, then thrust the small animal in her direction. She looked at him quizzically, and then down at the mewling creature.

“It is for you,” Rathka explained. “A gift from Lord Kargorr.”

“A gift?” Cedar echoed. “For me?”

She gazed at the cat with new eyes. It was a significant present. She would have to take care of it, and who knew what sort of attention it required? But it was so precious with its small, pink nose and big, yellow eyes, letting out sad little noises, that she instinctively reached out and took it into her arms. It had claws, but they were tiny and dull as it scraped her flesh, trying to get away.

“It is not fully tame yet,” Rathka said. “You will have to quiet its wildness.”

The dirty orc in the doorway reached into his pockets and withdrew a leather pouch that had a nipple attached to it and gestured for Rathka to take it. She did not look happy as she brought the pouch over to where Cedar had seated herself on the bed, the kitten in her lap. It was softer than any fur, as if it was covered in down like a baby chick. The orc spoke again, gesturing something with his hands.

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