I had to believe I could. There was no other option. I was running out of time before they took me further from the horde, into the Dead Lands.
Studying them, I saw three out of the five had a dagger on them. Good odds. I remembered the night Arokan had taken me into the forest, back at the old camp. I remembered what he’d said. That I had used his weakness to draw him close and that was when I’d struck.
I could do the same thing, I realized.
If I could taunt over a Ghertun with a dagger, I could grab it. They might be too drunk to realize otherwise. I had to hope they were.
So, I opened my eyes and didn’t close them whenever one happened to look my way. I stared at them and one nodded over to me, informing the leader that I was awake.
The leader glanced over at me and I held my breath, holding his glare. He ignored me, taking another swig out of the metal jug before passing it, saying something in Ghertun that made them all laugh.
I saw one get up from the fire and go off into the dark forest. It gave me an idea.
“I need to empty my bladder,” I called out.
“No,” the leader replied.
“It’s urgent,” I said, steeling my voice.
He ignored me.
I tried again. “You really want me smelling like piss for the entire journey? Because I will go in my pants if I have to. You’ll be the ones who’ll have to smell me.”
Even in the darkness, I saw his nostrils flare. He was quiet for a moment, making me think my idea failed, but then he nodded at the nearest Ghertun—one with a dagger—and jerked his head towards me.
The Ghertun huffed, but got to his feet, swaying over to me. Drunker than I thought, I realized.
Good.
Roughly, he pulled me to my feet but I stumbled from how tight the bonds were.
“Loosen them,” I said, “so I can walk.”
“You think me dumb, human?” the Ghertun slurred.
Yes.
I didn’t press my luck. I felt the leader’s eyes on me so I awkwardly shuffled, though I purposefully made it seem more difficult than it was. I stumbled more than I needed to. I didn’t want him to think I hadanychance to escape and out of the corner of my eye, I saw the leader accept the jug when it passed back around, his attention already diverted towards the brew.
The Ghertun didn’t lead me far. Only far enough away where if I pissed, they probably wouldn’t be able to smell it at the camp. Still, it allowed me more privacy than I would’ve had.
The Ghertun pushed me against a rock and grunted, “Hurry.”
Heart racing, I debated what to do next. I didn’t think I would get another chance to be alone with one and I needed to draw him close enough to grab his dagger.
There was only one way I could think of and I pressed my lips together before saying, “I need help with my pants.”
His head jerked towards me. His drunken grin appeared, displaying sharpened, yellow teeth, and it revolted me.
Immediately, he came forward. I told myself to be still as his hands roamed down my body, as I felt his disgustingly cold flesh through my tunic. His clawed fingers came to the laces of my pants and he sliced through them with one flick. The waist loosened.
My breathing went shallow. Alarmed, I wondered if this had been a good idea, especially when he pressed his lower body into mine. My belly churned when he tilted his head and licked a line up my throat, over my cheek with his slimy tongue.
“I do not care about the king,” the Ghertun slurred. “I haven’t had a human cunt in a long—”
With a sudden jerk, I gripped the hilt of his dagger and pulled it free. Before the Ghertun even realized what was happening, I sank the blade deep into his belly—right where Arokan told me during our training sessions—feeling the hard scales give surprisingly easily.
His eyes flashed to me in shock and he stumbled back, but not before I twisted and pulled the dagger free.
