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“Sidre,” I repeated, trying to match the same sounds. Anything to keep her talking. “Is that your name?”
"It is," she started, but her lips curled up in a smirk. "But you 'umans garble the words. Better for you to stay quiet.”
The strange orc said no more, already hunched over the table where she organized a strange collection of vials and jars.
When she turned around, she held a strong-smelling mixture that looked like mud in a shallow wooden bowl. Kneeling next to me, she daubed two fingers in it and began to apply it over the raw spots on my ankles.
I gasped at first, shrinking away at the sudden pain, but the ointment took effect almost immediately. It looked and smelled horrendous, but a soothing, cool sensation spread from my ankles through my tired feet and all the way up my legs.
“You…healed me.” It was more shock than anything at this point. “Thank…you.”
Sidre brushed off the notion with a ‘tch’. “The King does na’ want damaged goods, ’tis all.”
Oh. I shrunk back onto the cot. The grim reality of the situation filtered in, little by little. There was no escaping this.
That’s all I was now. Goods. And not even decent ones, at that.
I thought of my mother. Of my siblings and my friends and my neighbors. Would I ever see them again? Would they ever know what had happened to me?
If I was going to be sacrificed, the least I could do was do it properly. With every shred of dignity I had left.
“Come on,” Sidre startled me from my spiral. “Up. Up. The King does na’ like to wait.” She yanked on my still-sore wrist and pulled me upright. The sudden weight made me wobble, but I caught myself on the rough-hewn table nearby.
So much for Sidre’s hospitality—she grabbed me by the shoulder and practically manhandled me out of the tent. I stumbled into the sand and dirt, my hands catching the brunt of the fall. Grit scraped against my skin and stung my still-healing wounds.
The salves she had applied closed up my cuts and scrapes, but the aches still echoed bone-deep. That would take longer to heal.
Sidre urged me forward and I lost my footing again. "C'mon!" she hissed, her voice perfectly level. I saw other orcs, spread out around us, look at me with those same, dark eyes.
I didn't want to give them the satisfaction, but my legs were still numb. With every step I gained more feeling, more stability, but dozens of pairs of eyes watched my every move.
There was no helping it now. I would meet the Orc King.
