Page 76 of Faeling
Hearing the blatant threat, Fulk’s gaze flicked down to the great axe Vallek held. “We haven’t heard of you, so why should we believe you?”
Hefting Hormhím to rest the top of the shaft on his shoulder, Vallek stepped further into the firelight. The flames caught on Hormhím’s dual blades, as well as Vallek’s armor, polished to a high shine. He towered above Fulk and the Stone-Skins, and while he wasn’t above using the threat of his size, he felt a niggle of pity for them.
Kept away from others, they had become small and scared in their rocky hills.
“You’ve heard of Balmirra?”
Fulk nodded reluctantly. “Yes.”
“You’ve heard of Kaldebrak, Innrinhom, and Holdur?”
“Yes.”
“All the great orcish cities are mine. Their chieftains have sworn fealty to me. The Sharp-Tooths, Green-Backs, and all the other eastern tribes have knelt before me. The Stone-Skins will, too.” Closing the distance between him and the older orc, Vallek said, “I have no need of your little camp, Fulk Stone-Skin. Your people are but a handful of kin.”
“And yet you’re here.”
“And yet I’m here.” Vallek smiled, all teeth. “Your loyalty won’t be for nothing. You join all kin, together, in a nation that will rival any on the continent.” Sweeping his gaze across the huddled tribe, he added, “Come out from your hills. Your people will know prosperity they can only dream of.”
They didn’t need to know his ultimate aim—to eventually join the tribes together into an eastern bastion, a stronghold to guard the east like that of Kaldebrak in the north and Balmirra in the west. He would fortify the east, strengthen its people to stand strong against the Pyrrossi incursion. For now, though, he just needed their fealty.
“And if I don’t?”
Vallek dropped his smile. “Then all of you will be taken to Balmirra and interned.” They were a liability otherwise.
“Bastard!” A blur caught in Vallek’s periphery, and he moved backwards in time to avoid the swinging fist of an enraged orc.
Before the attacker could even think about striking again, the berserkers were on him.
The orc, a young, strapping male and the biggest of the Stone-Skins, gave the berserkers a good if untrained fight. All unbridled strength, he could only throw brute force against the berserkers, who soon outwitted and outflanked him.
Together, three berserkers secured the orc’s arms, pinning them behind him at a painful angle. A swift kick to the backs ofhis knees saw him crash to the dirt.
Although caught, the young hunter glared up at Vallek. Interestingly, from just one eye. A crude patch hid the left one, the edges of a jagged scar poking out from the upper and lower rims.
“We’llneverbow to you,” the orc snarled.
“Shut up, Kaldar,” Fulk growled.
“We never had a king! We don’t need a king!”
“I am the only thing standing between you and the Pyrrossi horde, boy. When they sweep through these lands, who else will come to save you?”
“They wouldn’t dare.”
Vallek snorted. “Of course they would. They already are. And you, the weak underbelly of orc-kin, are their easiest way inside. I won’t allow it.”
Kaldar swung his angry gaze to Fulk. “Don’t you dare fucking do it, uncle. We don’t need these fuckers!”
The berserker holding Kaldar’s right arm pinched it back tighter, earning a grimace of pain.
Fulk met Vallek’s gaze. He sighed. They both knew with Kaldar’s words that Vallek would have his way.
Vallek agreed when Fulk said, “He’s young and stupid.”
That he was.
“But you will be wiser.” Lifting Hormhím to point at Kaldar, Vallek warned, “Your fealty for his other eye.”
