Page 5 of Finding Her Luck
As loud and happy as they were, every man heard the racket.
The revelry died away to hushed attention. Looking at each other, eyes wide. They were men of war. That was their sentry's sound. Tables rocked and benches moved as men came to attention.
It was not possible that the village—her village—had sent help. There were three retired fighters among them, too old to work, much less fight. The other towns, up and down the river were the same. People dedicated to the simple ways of land cultivation, hiding from society and its problems. Who could it be?
The loud, outraged shouting and scuffle of feet could not cover the sound of howling from outside.
A sound that cut through the night, promising horror.
Then Corrin knew. These mercenary raiders. These foolish mercenary raiders who had come from the Northern Cities of steel and concrete. Her village had whispered they'd stolen a transport boat to ride down the river from the Blue mountain.
Because that was the only way here. People assumed because it was the only thing that made sense. No one, man or beast, no one came to the river villages by land. No one dared break the Orki Peace Law.
Except a foolish, foreign troop of ex-soldiers who should have known better.
The howling was close. Loud. The noise seemed outside the door and all around them. It filled up the room like a harbinger of destruction. The Orki Originals would kill every man they came across. There would be no mercy. Their law was absolute.
Stay out of their lands.
The mercenaries may have passed through them a month ago, but everyone knew Orki actively patrolled their territory. It would only take one tracker to find the scent of a man, a place where someone may have stopped to piss, or where they slept the night. The Orki would follow that scent to the ends of the earth until the owners shed blood and life for breaking their law.
The Orki were the reason the villages felt safe in their vulnerability. Native to Dorsus, said to be born of earth and stone, as planet Originals, the Orki held their lands sacrosanct. The boundaries immutable. Nothing crossed them by land or air.
The Peace River Villages, all of them, bordered Orki lands by special dispensation. Humans had the right of way on the river and closest lands only. Massive, carved boulders marked where not to pass. There were signs everywhere. No army, no power, no enemy passed through the wild Orki lands. Only fools.
The boss was talking to the man next to him. Deciding. Try to run? Open the doors and fight? Stay here and form a defense?
There was no right answer. They had no chance.
"Dianna, please. Please untie me. Dianna. Please," Corrin whisper-shouted to the girl. A man looked over at her, frowned, and looked back at his boss. Everyone was standing. Time moved slowly. There were more howls and shouts outside.
Death was coming and Corrin was still tied up like a turkey.
Most of the men were in the hall. The tables had been filled. They had their short swords. A handful had their big fighting blades. Some of them had modern energy-based weapons that were outlawed here. Didn't matter. Those things were useless against the Orki. All of them were red-eyed from farmer Nolan's 90 proof distilled drink, unbalanced, and afraid because of it. Early in the day, sober, they'd been orderly and well trained. She knew even sober men didn't stand a chance against the thick skins and indomitable power of a single Original.
The boss grabbed a woman and thrust her towards the closed door. "Open it, beg for mercy. Tell them we want to talk."
She must be a woman from this village. Mature, but comely, with yellow-blonde hair, much of it loose from her braids. She'd been pawed often that night. There was a rip in her bodice, exposing her. Shaken like the rest of them, she didn't care. Preserving her modesty was the least of her problems. "Don't, I can't. They'll kill me. You broke the peace. They'll kill me."
"Stupid bitch." He growled at her through his teeth like a bear. "Orkis only kill women with their dicks. You'll be fine. Open it." He poked her with his small sword until she cried out, cut, blood blooming on her clothing. "Open. It."
She did. Shoving the heavy door open, weeping with her fear.
Corrin got to her knees, still stuck on the floor surrounded by thick tables, benches, and standing men. She couldn't see past the open door, but it was something that made the men in the room shift uneasily. The sour odor of their fear oozed from their pores, stinking up the room.
"Please. Please." The woman was crying. "They want to talk. They want toavolk!Avolk!" She shouted the last words in
Orkish.
If the blonde knew Orkish, she must be related to someone on the council. Every village had a person who knew the language. Corrin, herself, knew about ten words.
Like a giant moving into the room, the dark gray, almost black creature ducked through the doorway, every footstep a loud, heavy noise. There was an animal growling behind him.
Corrin glimpsed the big nose and fanged muzzle of his war beast.
Orki came to the village sometimes, trading deer meat for fish, furs for steel. She'd heard they would offer gemstones for pretty daughters.
People treated them with caution and respect. This was their territory where humans sought a haven from the trials and claustrophobia of the steel cities. Humans were taught since childhood that as long as they kept to the river and didn't cross the boundaries, there would be harmony. Yet it was impossible not to fear them. Huge. Different. Not. Human.
