Mercy. It was what Arokan of Rath Kitala’svekkiriqueen had asked of me, with her rounded belly and shining eyes, pregnant with his child, with his heir. Had that just been yesterday, when I had visited the otherVorakkar’s encampment? When I had told them I was journeying to an eastern human settlement to punish the hunters responsible for thekinnu?
We only ever needed mercy, she’d told me in her soft, human way. Arokan had given her mercy, had spared her brother’s life, and her life had been forever changed.
As I laid thekallesdown on her stomach over my bare pallet, as I looked down at her wounds, I knew this was not mercy.
Vodan appeared at my side as I peeled away the female’s cut tunic, exposing the entirety of her back, the evidence of my brutality.
Monster?Lysi, I’d been becoming one for years. Or perhaps I’d always been one, shaped and crafted, like a blade, since my youth.
“I will bring clean water,” was all Vodan said, knowing that my mind was made up, knowing that it was already done. Andthatwas why I’d chosen him as mypujerak. For all his faults, for allmine, he was loyal to me, to the horde.
I stared down at the female with her cheek pressed against the hard pallet, taking in her strange features. She had dark hair, the palest skin I’d ever seen, a pointed nose, a small mouth. I hadn’t encountered manyvekkiriin my time asVorakkar, though I was certain my horde warriors had when I’d sent them on patrols.
When I turned to look for Vodan, I saw my horde warriors dismounting theirpyroki, casting speculative glances my way, though none met my eyes out of respect.
Perhaps they thought I’d gone mad, like the horde king to the north.
PerhapsI have, my mind whispered.
Still, the weight of their stares prickled my neck.
“Ovilli, vir drak drukkia!” I called out, my voice echoing around the encampment.
Prepare, we ride at midday.
For home.
The warriors were eager to return, as was I. In a flurry of activity, they began the process of breaking down the camp, leaving me to tend to thekalleswithout the weight of their eyes on my back.
Vodan returned with a pot of water and clean cloths. I took both from him and went to work. I was no healer, but I wore enough scars across my flesh to have ample knowledge of wound care.
“Nouudunsalve?” I asked Vodan.
“Nik,” he replied. “We did not expect…this.”
Vok, I thought but pressed my lips together. I soaked the clean cloth in water and pressed it to thekalles’ back. She was dirty and the cloth came away a muddied red, grey with filth.
“Hold her down.”
Once her arms were secured, I tipped the clean water over her back, washing the dirt and blood away. She came awake in an instant, her body tensing, a muffled cry falling from her lips.
“Be still,kalles,” I told her in the universal tongue. “I need to dress your wounds.”
“You,” she whispered, her face turned to me. Her dark eyes were unfocused, dilated, but they were on me. “Why?”
It was unnerving, I realized. Once I became aVorakkar, no one met my eyes, except for other horde kings, mypujerak, and myDothikkar. To have thiskalleslook upon me so freely, I was reminded that once, I had been nothing more than aduvna,a scurrying, poor gutter rat in the streets ofDothik. Everyone met my gaze then.
What was most strange was that, looking into her eyes, I realized how much I’d missed it. That simple connection of looking at another being.
Yet, with her, it was something more. Something that called to me, something I recognized, pulling me in, threatening to consume me as surely as it promised tofreeme.
“Because I must,” was all I told her.
She hissed in pain when I poured more water over her back and I gritted my teeth, an uncomfortable sensation swelling in my chest with her cries.
From experience, I knew it hurt like Drukkar’s fire.
“I don’t think I want to die,” she said, teeth clenched, looking straight at me. “I don’t t-think I…”
