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“Duck.”
Chapter Seventeen
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JOGUG:
I REMEMBER LAUGHTER AND giggling, perched on giant shoulders, me and Hisa on opposite sides. Bouncing, clutching our sides from laughter.
And then the mothers, yelling from the covered porch that dinner was ready. The male, hopping up, clamoring through the giant double doors, barking out one command for us.
“Duck.”
From as early as I can remember, we ducked instinctively whenever he barked it. Of course, in those early years, it was easy to clear the door, even when we were slow moving, back when we were under the age of four. Clumsy at three.
At eight, we ducked swiftly.
At ten, it was automatic, but he still barked out the command. Now I realize it was practice, constant drills that never ended. Our entire childhoods consisted of training, of preparing me for this day.
And like Brachard used to bark at me, he doesn’t hesitate when I do it. He ducks as soon as he hears the word leave my lips. Good thing, because my blade sails through the air, right where his head had been, and sticks into Stug’s forehead. Right into our matching mating marks on the bridge of his nose.
Brachard staggers away from the clutching hands and when he does, Stug’s body topples over. “God’s fire, lass, you’re quicker than I remember.” He moves to my side, to face the prisoners.
“Looks like I’m still a king-slayer,” I tell the other four, white-faced orcs in the cages. “Don’t ever lie to me again, you hear?”
No one answers and Kreele roars into the cages. “Answer her!”
“Aye.”
“I hear.”
“Aye, Jog—” Doparth’s voice trails off, leaving silence for everyone who heard.
I can feel my heart pounding against my chest. “Is my name really Jogug?” I ask him.
His eyes dart to Shogun and Gnark, but the other two look down at the ground instead of meeting his gaze.
