We walked out of the walls I'd tried to escape from, over and over, for half my life.
On the other side, one of them gasped, as if in relief, and Khal muttered, "They have archers. Don't slow." And the farther we went the faster we were going, until it was a run. I shrieked with shock as he swept me up under his arm.
The vegetation tore past. I tried to cover my face, was jostled and yanked as he crashed over bushes. We reached the treecover, kept going. They were yelling to each other, short calls, sprinting over the ground, spreading out through the trees till finally-
Khal barked some command, and they stopped. Some of them crouched, panting. And here I was under his arm like a stolen suckling pig. He lowered me down, and I fell with a thump.
And then they started laughing.
They were slapping each other- hugging? Some of them touched their foreheads to each other; they laughed and pushed each other's heads. They were happy. I sat on the dirt, aching, wondering if they were truly mad.
"We made it," Khal said. "The hard part is over."
The old one spoke. "You can tell me the hard part is over when Drazha doesn't roast us on a spit on your return."
A howl went up. Was he fighting for dominance against this Drazha? Was I trapped in an orc mutiny?
"What is happening?" I croaked.
Khal turned, even his shoulders looking lighter. "We made it. Your father was not lying to kill us." The tension in his face was gone.
"You thought…he was lying?"
"Our peoples don't have a great history, wife."
Someone barked out a comment, and the others laughed.
The one with the scar on his forehead stood up, spat. "We've rested enough. We should get going."
"Overland or by the road?"
My stomach froze.
At no point had I imagined going overland. Overland, where I had no idea how to navigate, how to survive, how to get back to the city at Rowton.
Another orc was speaking. "The human will slow us down overland."
"We could take turns carrying it."
"What about the—" he devolved into Orcish. "—It's still their breeding season."
"Multiple armies," the old one spoke, and all of them went silent, listened, "— just disbanded. Hundreds of men, somehow armed, somewhat trained, far from home without pay. How safe do you think that road will be?"
It was quiet.
"We can take them," the scarred one muttered.
"Probably." The old one looked up. "How many people who look like her do you want to kill in front of Khal's new wife?"
They stared at each other awkwardly.
I needed the road. Ineededus to pick the road. "I—" I spoke up, instantly regretted it as their gold eyes swiveled to me. "...I don't mind. Seeing you kill people."
They looked at each other.
"...I would be very heavy and unpleasant to carry."
They burst into laughter again. My face burned.
