Page 12 of Slamming the Orc


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Paige clears her throat and looks over at me again.

“Uh, maybe it would help if you introduced yourself, Jovak.”

“Hello, Laney,” I say in as pleasant a tone as I can manage. “My name is Jovak. I am … friends with your sister.”

“If you hurt my sister, I’ll kill you,” Laney says, utterly deadpan.

“Laney,” Paige gasps in horror. “That’s not polite.”

“I mean it, though.”

“I have no doubt that you do, little one,” I interject. “I will not allow harm to come to you or your sister so long as it’s within my power to prevent it.”

I had meant for it to be a fierce declaration, but then I lost confidence as I spoke. Neither human seems to notice or comment if they do.

“Is it raining, Paige?” Laney asks.

“Yes, it’s raining hard,” Paige replies.

“What happened to the orcs who tried to take us prisoner?”

“They’re not a problem any longer,” Paige replies, shooting what I assume to be a grateful smile my way. I can’t really tell in the dark, but her tone suggests so.

“Does that mean that Jovak killed them all?”

“Well,” Paige says, clearing her throat.

“I killed them all, Laney,” I reply, not without some pride.

“Good,” Laney says, her voice thick with approaching slumber. Soon she’s snoring softly again. I try to sleep as well, but the raging storm and general feeling of unease prevent me from achieving even a modicum of rest.

Eventually, the rain dies to a light drizzle, and the thunder cracks grow more and more faint as the storm moves westward. Though thoughts of Paige and her sister are distracting, particularly Paige. I start to relax.

I’m not sure what it is, but there’s something I find unusually appealing about her. It’s not just the obvious, her physical beauty. There’s something more. Perhaps it is her intelligence and bravery. Or maybe it’s because she’s easy to talk to. The life of a chief is a lonely one. Even my sister, the one person I can rely on in the tribe not to speak ill of me, can’t really speak freely with me.

Paige is removed from the tribe, so maybe I feel safer conversing with her. I only know that I look forward to when she awakes, and we can talk more. I’m fascinated to know more about her and where she and her sister come from.

A snapping twig brings me out of my half-slumber. It could have been a stick barely holding on through the storm, which just now fell from the high limbs of the trees … but I don’t think so.

My nostrils test the air and detect a thick, musky aroma. I thrust my head through the canopy and saw a large, shaggy form, like a miniature hill, moving through our camp. The onagers awaken and begin making distressed sounds.

It’s something the humans call a bear. The orc word for the beast translates intogrumpy, furry, teeth, and claws.

I can’t allow it to harm Paige, or our onager team, for that matter. They are fearsome foes.

But so am I.

I throw the tarp open fully and leap out the back, brandishing both of my axes and giving a ferocious war cry. Sometimes you can scare bears off by acting loud and threatening. Not this time, it seems. The bear turns its head my way and growls in annoyance.

“You will find no meals here,” I shout back. “Begone with you, beast.”

The bear rises onto its hind legs. An intimidation display and an effective one. It must stand more than ten feet tall, from its clawed feet to the top of its furry head.

I roar and charge. The metal-hafted ax bites deep into its flank. The bear gives a bellow and drops to all fours, running away fast under iron-gray skies.

I bend down and grab a handful of leaves to clean the blood and fur from my blade, then re-sheathe my ax. I turn to the wagon and find Paige staring right at me. Her eyes are full of wonder.

“I can’t believe you stood up to an actual bear,” she says. “That thing was huge.”

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