The Orc's Consort: Book One

Chapter 3 - The Hostage

Lady Brenna of Blackwater Hold

The sun sank behind the distant mountain range to my left. Daylight was now fleeting away as I wondered if this would be the last time I would see the sunlight. Now, I was seated atop an enormous wolf-like creature with my back against the bare chest of an orc named Sten. I recalled him referring to the creature as a warg. I had never heard of them before, nor had I ever encountered one, much less an orc.

My body lurched forward rhythmically as the creature carried us to the north. Despite the animal having a saddle, I held onto its sienna-colored pelt to steady myself. Without warning, the orc I rode with placed his arm around my waist to hold me firmly in place as the warg vaulted over brush in our path. Sweat began to pour down my back as my hardened posture stiffened even more under his touch. Off in the distance, a structure began to come into view. At first, I noticed the enormous slate-grey wall that protected the mountain range behind it.

The only visible entry point appeared to be a tremendous metal gate set at the top of an incomparable flight of granite stairs. Our pace slowed as we approached the base of the steps. The sound of a horn boomed from an unknown origin, drowning out the melody of a nearby songbird. The ground began to rumble as the gate roared open.

Once inside the walls, the company of orcs began to dismount as stable hands came out to board their wargs. I was so engrossed by the sight before me I nearly forgot about Sten. His weight shifted as he swung a trunk-like leg over to dismount. He held the reigns still and watched me, waiting for me to move.

"Come now, woman. Let us get inside before nightfall," Sten beckoned. I sat frozen in place. The forest air was not cold, but my skin shivered under his orcish skin. His rough hands clinched my hips. He effortlessly lifted me from atop his warg and threw me over his shoulder. My rigid body contorted over his large frame as if my body were metal. Tears threatened to stream down my cheeks. I recalled my conversation with my father as Sten lugged me up the steps and through the front entrance.

"You are to go with the Northern Orruk Horde, Brenna. Gather your things. They will come for you momentarily."

"What are you talking about? Why?" I asked in a panicked tone.

"Never mind why! I will not waste my time explaining things to you, girl. "Do as you are fucking told!" my father snapped.

"Father. Please do not do this," I begged.

I could not accept what he had done. How could he? My instinct was to fight tooth and nail, but there was no point. There was no way out of this. Tears streamed down my face as we approached the grand entrance of the Northern Orruk Mountains. What had I done to displease my father? What transgression warranted banishment to the Northern Orruk Horde? My father, the King of Blackwater Hold, had dealt me away as if I were a commodity to barter with.

My thoughts became jostled as Sten swayed as he climbed several flights of stairs and down a large corridor. He stopped at a wooden door - similar to the others that lined the hall - and entered. He gently laid me atop a large bed lined with thick furs and linens. It was not uncommon for young human women to join the Orruk hordes. In truth, there are no females of their kind, so orc men could only continue their lineage with humans.

However, it was unheard of for a King to banish a daughter to the horde. Orcs care little about social status, especially that of humans, so what good would come from such a deal? What would become of me? If my father yearned so badly to send me away, would it not have been better to match me with a nobleman to craft an alliance? I became increasingly upset as I tried to make sense of it all.

Despite his enormous stature, his movements were careful, perhaps even graceful. It appeared that he was nearly seven feet tall. His voice rumbled from within him as if the earth had quaked. "Here is your bed-chamber, woman- Be quick and remove your garments," Sten commanded.

I locked eyes with him, bewildered by his request. The hue of his eyes was that of sage and sea foam. The flickering glow of nearby candlelight illuminated the beads of sweat on his bronzed skin. His appearance differed from the illustrations I had seen during my studies as a girl. I recalled seeing images of disgusting, monstrous beasts with unnatural skin tones, claws, and disfigurements. None of them resembled the creature who stood before me. The muscles of his thick arm rippled as he raised his hand to push an auburn dread of hair from his face.

I quickly pulled my thoughts back to the present, recalling I was staring down an orc with a dazed expression. I trembled as fear welled inside me. Tears filled my eyes. I swallowed, attempting to force down the growing lump in my throat. All the moister had evaporated from my mouth. My lips quivered as I tried to protest, but I choked on my words.

He studied me with an inquisitive expression as I struggled to breathe. My cheeks wanted to burn, but it was as if my blood refused to flow through my veins at the thought of him, this creature seeing me bare. My breasts heaved as I began to hyperventilate. Gods, please help me. Finally, he interjected, "Right, I forgot. You dainty humans are- what do you call it; sensitive about showing your bits. A servant girl will come to draw your bath and collect your clothing for washing," he smirked.

He turned to walk out of the room. I could feel the solid, stone floor vibrate under his massive figure. His muscular back rippled as he turned to look at me before exiting. "Oh, one last thing. Supper will be up soon. Lighten up, will you? I was only messing with you." It was as if the energy in the air shifted as he closed the heavy wooden door.

I was still frozen in shock, perplexed by today's events. I have to get out of here! I began to panic. I forced my eyes to scan the room, looking for anything that could be of use. To my left was an open archway that led into a washroom. I looked around that wall to see just a simple vanity and mirror. To the right of me was the way out. Directly across from the bed stood an enormous unlit fireplace.

There were no windows in the room. The only light came from two candle-lit sconces mounted onto the mortar and stone walls. My eyes darted back to the fireplace, scanning desperately. There sat a rack of tools to tend to the fire. That will have to do, I thought. I sprung up from the bed. My legs wobbled and worked against me from fear. I scramble to the fireplace to grab hold of the poker. I was instantly taken aback by its enormous size, "Dear Gods, what do they use this thing for, spearing bears?"

I do not know much about intimacy other than its purpose in creating children. I was not planning to become enlightened by orc men on the matter. I continued to psych myself up to gather the courage to make a move. I grasped the handle tightly in two hands and went to lift it, but it became stuck. In a panic, I used all my force to yank the poker from its holder. My feet staggered backward clumsily, causing the heavy tools to hit the ground.

A loud metallic clatter reverberated off the stone walls. My heart pounded in my ears as my blood began to circulate again as I attempted to wield the poker. Am I really doing this? Am I about to try and take on an orc horde? I held it in my grasp to get accustomed to its weight. I looked at the end of it to see how sharp it was. Much to my disappointment, it appeared to be rather dull. I tightened my grip around the handle and gave a few test swings.

I shook my head, attempting to dispel the jumbled thoughts that raced through my mind. I turned toward the way out and charged. As I was about to crash through the door, my foot became tangled in my dress, causing me to trip. My body flailed through the doorway only to smack into something hard as stone. At first, I thought I crashed into the wall. The whooshing of blood in my ears drowned out the sound of the poker clanking to the floor. I was in such disarray I barely noticed the two burly arms around me, keeping me upright. I froze, processing what had happened.

The muscles in his arms rippled as he enveloped me against his broad chest. My blood ran cold. I slowly lifted my eyes to meet him; his eyes lacked feeling or remorse. They were an odd array of dark brown, green, and burnt umber. The heat of his body burrowed through me like a furnace, melting my bones. My lips parted in an attempt to breathe. What would he do to me?