Page 157 of Halfling
Get up. Not yet.
He managed to get to his knees, taking in the stares of the other orcs, their faces thrown into stark shock in the firelight. As they looked on, Orek staggered to his feet, his body aflame with agony. But worse was knowing, when he turned to face Krul, his end was coming.
Wiping at the blood dribbling from his lip, Krul snarled a bloody smile, eyes bright with bloodlust as he stalked from the trees into camp.
“Whoever ends up with the biggest piece of halfling gets first pick of the humans.”
As one they looked at Orek—then they were upon him.
36
The full moon guided their way as Sorcha and her father rode at the head of the column. The smart thing would have been to stop for the night, but something inside her whispered to hurry, to keep going.
The journey south had gone by in a hazy blur of bare trees and snowy patches. She found snatches of restless sleep at night, wrapped up in the fur she and her mate had shared. It still bore a faint trace of his scent, and Sorcha buried her nose in it for comfort.
Their party was grim but determined, the horses making the journey far quicker than she and Orek had managed. She recognized the landscape and found landmarks that made a secret blush steal over her cheeks—they would’ve made much better time if they hadn’t stopped to indulge in each other quite so much. But Sorcha would never regret it, and seeing the places she’d been with her mate kept that burning need to have him back glowing hot inside her.
Two days previous they’d arrived at Cara and Anghus’s homestead, and Sorcha had been utterly relieved to hear that Anghus had spoken with Orek not two days before.
So close. We’re catching up.
They just needed to get to him in time.
Which was why, when a few of the knights made grumblings about stopping for the night, Sorcha had insisted they keep going. They had the full moon tonight, and as they drew closer to the western mountains, the urgency in her was a never-ending beat, a rhythm that kept time to her pounding heart.
We have to find him.
A deep, guttural bellow broke through the quiet of the night.
Under her, Fiora nickered, ears swiveling to locate the sudden sound. The other horses stopped, exchanging soft whickers as the knights looked amongst themselves.
“That’s an orc,” Lord Darrow said, his gaze fixed on the trees.
Using only their hands, Ciaran and Darrow ordered the knights into formation, and the column began again at a quiet trot. Knights drew their weapons silently, swords and spears and crossbows. Sorcha pulled her own sword from its scabbard tied to her saddlebag.
Ciaran reached to squeeze her forearm, but Sorcha shook her head. They’d argued for days about this, what Sorcha would do if and when it came time to fight. She stubbornly refused to give up her place at the front of the column, having Fiora block Niall’s mount each time he tried to edge her to the right and behind him.
The steady rhythm of hooves beat against Sorcha’s skull, even with the river running at their right to help muffle the sound of their march. Her heart leapt into her throat as they rounded a bend, the trees retreating from the riverbank.
A narrow plain of stubby grass and boulders met them, and at the center was a bonfire.
The orange light cast long shadows over the plain, sparks flying to meet the stars. Hulking forms stood around the fire, half their bodies thrown into shadow.
Orcs.
There was no mistaking the white gleam of tusks nor the green pallor of their hides.
A hiss left Ciaran, and he made more hurried hand signals.
The group around the fire exploded into movement when a body came flying from the trees, landing with a heavythudin the dirt. A pained groan reached her ears, even across the plain and over the river.
Orek.
She couldn’t see him clearly through the mass of bodies and distance, but sheknew.
Her mate struggled to his feet, his form slightly smaller than the others. He’d just gotten his feet under him when the largest orc Sorcha had ever seen emerged from the forest. In a booming snarl, the orc pointed at Orek and snapped something in orcish.
And the orcs descended on him like vultures.
