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CHAPTER3
ROSA
The first thing I knew was pain.
It came in waves, crashing over me in sudden, sharp bursts. I opened my mouth to scream, but only a garbled gurgle came out. I was no longer hanging upside down, but the vine trap still lashed tight around my ankles. I blinked my eyes open a little further and tried to move -- wait, it had my wrists too?!
My hands were tied together, and my legs were spread wide. I struggled against the ropes, but I couldn't budge. I was completely immobilized.
Panic and terror washed over me in equal measure. I fought to regain control, to bring down my frantic breaths and hammering heart. It had to be an accident. That's all.
There was only one problem with that: I hadn't set those traps. And if not me, then...who?
The sound of movement behind me answered that. In fact, I realized as I gained consciousness, I was moving as well. I couldn't see where we were going or who my captors were from my vantage point, but I could hear the heavy sounds of footfalls. How many were there? I couldn't tell just by sound, but it had to be more than my whole village.
Oh, no. The village! Guilt burned straight into my stomach and I retched. I was too weak. Too...muddled. My mind swam and I tried to piece together my last few memories. I was hunting, and then found that coin, and then...
Nothingness. Exhaustion swept over me once more, and I slipped back under.
The smell of blood and smoke and sweat slammed into my face as I open my eyes. My head pounded, and my stomach churned. I groaned and tried to roll over, only to find my wrists were bound with some kind of rough rope. Where was I? What happened to me?
A brazier in the center of the room filled the air with the acrid scent of incense. Sparks fluttered up toward the vented ceiling. I was in some kind of tent. But how did I get here?
I frowned and tried to work through the muddled memories. They flickered in and out of my consciousness like a mosquito I couldn’t quite swat. I was hunting...I remembered that much. I ventured further than I should have, and then...
My heart skipped a beat. The vines. The trap. The primal fear that overtook me as I scrabbled for purchase and gave in to the darkness. I sensed movement behind me -- stale breath and heavy footfalls. And something stronger, too. Astringent. I turned my head as much as I could and strained against the bindings.
There, standing before me, was the object of every child's nightmare. An orc.
He loomed over me, a monument of weathered green skin and brutish power. He was fatter than the orcs of legend, however, sporting a large gut and wearing a cloak over his shoulders suspiciously close to the color of blood. A wrap of furs covered his midsection and upper thighs. Once I got a look at his face, there could be no mistaking it.
Dark, deep-set eyes, a tough, wide jaw, flared nostrils, and those fabled tusks jutting upward from his bottom lip.
When he saw me looking up at him, his eyes widened not in malice, but in surprise. Curiosity. He straightened, leaning on a gnarled staff for support, and waddled over to the door -- no more than another flap of hide. I watched him go and tried to resist my panic.
He poked his head out of the tent and barked something in his coarse language. I didn't have a chance to catch what it was before he was gone, leaving the tent flap fluttering in the breeze.
Letting out a shaky breath, I gathered my thoughts and looked around the inside of my prison. A crude mish-mash of stitched animal hide stretched over a thin frame. I was laying on some kind of cot, while a makeshift table sat next to me and a brazier burned in the middle of the room. Through the flickering haze, the tent flap opened once more, and a different orc stepped inside.
She had a heavy brow and nose, with a bandage tied over her right eye. Her hair hung over her shoulder in a sloppy braid and she wore a tunic of leather over a long skirt. Sacks and bags of various shapes and sizes hung from her belt, jingling and jostling as she walked.
"Ssssoooo..." she started, her voice low and raspy. She looked me over with her good eye, up and down. I felt like a piece of meat on display. "The 'uman has awoken." She reached out a long, weathered hand to press against my forehead. I sucked in a breath, but couldn't move. Her skin was warm to the touch but not as rough as I feared. It had a leathery texture to it, one that was almost comforting.
"No fever. Ta's good."
I strained against my bonds again, looking up at her with a pleading gesture. "Can you...help?" looked down at the cuffs on my wrists and ankles, then up at her. I didn't know how much she could understand, but I had to try.
Without a word she pulled out a knife from her belt and considered it for a moment. The pale firelight flickered and reflected off the uneven blade. With her free hand, she pressed a dark-skinned finger to her lips and cut through my bonds without further comment.
"Ah...thank you!" I cried, already rubbing my raw flesh. Red, angry marks stood out against my pale skin and bruises I couldn't remember spotted up and down my legs, but at least I could move.
"Ah, 'umans." she muttered, tucking the knife away again. "Get themselves tied up in little pieces like a bird with its wings clipped." She laughed ruefully, a cough interrupting her.
It wasn't like I got trapped on purpose! "It was an accident," I said at last, too tired to talk back. "I didn't mean to. I...I got lost." I needed to get my bearings if I wanted to survive out here, so I chanced one more question. "Where am I? What happened? I was hunting, and then...I was here?"
"'umans and their little games." She spat on the ground. "Always lying. Scheming, like animals. Don't know if you're worth it, if ye ask me. But the King asks, and Sidre obeys." She said it so simply, so coldly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
A shiver iced down my spine. The King? We had no king. Not since...
