Page 60 of Halfling
It was an effort to keep his eyes open, but the growl rumbling in his chest never stopped. Hehatedhearing Sorcha beg.
Another pause stretched between Sorcha and the male, but she didn’t waste it. She pulled Orek’s pack closer and found another blanket to replace the bloodied one. As the male looked on, she wrapped the blanket around Orek and knotted it tight at his side, keeping pressure on the wound.
A soft hand touched his face, and his head lolled toward her. He could barely see her through the slits left by his heavy eyelids, but her concern was palpable. She drew his hair away from his face and traced his unbroken cheek before leaning in to kiss it.
So stunned, he couldn’t stop her from standing again. He did growl, though, unhappy she left herself vulnerable, and wrapped a hand around her calf.
“Please,” she said, “he’sdying.”
After a long moment of silence, a loud and gusty sigh filled the night.
“Fine. But not the house. And first sign of trouble, you’re both out.”
“Yes! Thank you! We won’t be any trouble, I swear!”
The lantern swung away, allowing Orek to see again, and he watched the dark figure of a broad human man walking toward a wagon. He fiddled with something on the sides, and the back panel lowered into a lip.
His view of the man as he rummaged around the wagon was obscured by the soft curtain of Sorcha’s hair as she leaned over him.
“Can you stand?” she asked him gently.
“Yes.”No.
Gritting his fangs, he used the tree at his back to leverage himself up. Sorcha was there, ducking under his arm to support his weight, but his legs buckled.
Another shoulder dug into his other side, the human man’s scent filling Orek’s nose.
“What’s your name, orc?” the man asked as he helped Sorcha haul him to the wagon.
“Orek.”
Cold sweat broke across Orek’s brow with the effort of keeping his head up and his legs moving. It was perhaps only eight steps to the wagon, but it felt like eternity, his side pulsing.
“Anghus,” the man grunted.
“Thank you, Anghus.”
Another grunt.
At the wagon, Orek slumped against the open back but with help managed to climb in. Sorcha hurried away, and a moment later he heard the heavythumpof his pack landing somewhere near him.
The wagon rocked as Sorcha climbed into the back with him and Anghus into the seat.
“You want fast or you want smooth?” asked Anghus. “Can’t have both.”
“Fast,” Sorcha said.
The man grunted and then the wagon lurched forward, nearly leaving Orek’s stomach behind. He groaned, fisting the knotted blanket at his side.
“I know, I know,” Sorcha whispered to him, stroking his hair and tracing his ears and cheekbones. She lifted his head into her lap, warm fingers caressing little patterns along his skin. “Just a little longer. Rest. I’m here.”
He didn’t want to succumb to the unconsciousness biting at him, didn’t want to wake from it only to find this all a figment his mind made to distract him from the pain. But the exhaustion and pain as they jostled along through the forest was too much on his battered body.
And…as Orek well knew by now, he could deny Sorcha nothing.
So he rested, head nestled in the cradle of her lap, content.
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