Page 64 of The Savage Vow
“I was determined to succeed,” Nargol said cooly.
“So I take it you are not coming empty-handed?” He folded his arms.
Grat snorted loudly.
“Do these females look as if they would have failed? You choose wisely, Hagu.” He slapped Hagu on the shoulder. His eyes gleamed bright as he watched them. He held his hand out. “The scroll.”
Makhel withdrew the duplicate scroll from her satchel and handed it over. Grat snatched it from her. His eyes narrowed on the parchment, and he unrolled it. A vicious grin spread across his face.
“With this,” Grat proclaimed, his voice booming across the clearing, “the reign of the Cydassis ends. No one will ever know the truth that once bound this land to their bloodline.”
A murmur of approval rippled through the gathered orcs.
Nargol forced her expression into one of agreement. She nodded and glanced over at Makhel. It would appear the witch’s copy had fooled them. The original was in a safe place at the moment.
“And when the chieftain falls, will it be Cardu who leads?” she asked.
Laughter erupted. She glanced around, not sure what was so funny about her question. She would assume all of this was for Cardu to take over. He had been very vocal about his displeasure with her father’s decisions on everything.
Especially her sister mating with a human.
“Cardu?” Hagu sneered. “He is just a puppet.”
Grat’s grin widened. He rolled the parchment and motioned to the males behind him.
“You think that sniveling piece of dung would be able to rule men like these or an entire nation? I think not, you foolish female.” Grat let out a booming laugh. He folded his arms in front of his massive chest. “The true power comes from beyond our borders. Cardu has been nothing but a spy for the future leader of this land. Rujin will march soon. Aghon will be his.”
A chill rippled down Nargol’s spine. She slowly slid her hand to grip her dagger at her waist. This was not what she’d expected at all.
Rujin, the troll warlord, could not—would not—rule these lands. Not while there was any breath left in any Cydassi’s body. Had these orcs forgotten their history? Had they been so lost in their hatred for her family that they’d forgotten how Karrnoth Horde had come to try to enslave the orcs? That it was becauseof the trolls that orcs had become nomads, had almost perished had it not been for the sacrifice Nogora had made for them?
“You would hand over our homeland to trolls?” she spat.
“It’s better to kneel willingly than be crushed. Plus, the promises he’s made to reward those who side with him were something none of us could refuse.” Grat’s smile disappeared. He took a step forward.
The males behind him slowly brandished their weapons. The temperature seemed to drop a few degrees.
“And you just know that Rujin will be honorable and come through with whatever he promised you?” Nargol couldn’t hold back the disdain she had for not only the troll warlord, but the orcs standing in front of her. Not only were they traitors to her father, but to their entire race.
A little over a century ago, a troll warlord known as Vargath, the Mountain-Breaker, believed that Aghon should never have belonged to the orcs. He and the trolls believed that Nogora was an evil entity sent to destroy them by giving orcs a prosperous life. It was he who had led attack after attack on the orcs, trying to drive them from their beautiful lands that had been blessed by Nogora herself. Legend had it that one night, the trolls attempted to attack the Temple of Spirits, but her ancestors had defeated them.
How could these orcs think to turn Aghon over to the enemy?
“I was wondering how long you would keep up this charade.” Grat growled. His amber eyes narrowed on her.
Cold realization settled over Nargol. She didn’t say a word. She tightened her grip on the handle of her weapon. She didn’t need to look over at Makhel to know her friend was posed and ready for a battle.
“We know who you are,” Hagu snapped.
“The mighty Nargol Cydassi, daughter of Chieftain Tulak. A spy in our midst. Don’t think you’re getting this back.” Grat heldup the scroll. He leveled his thunderous gaze at her then lifted a meaty hand and pointed at her and Makhel. “Kill them.”
Nargol drew her blade in a single fluid motion just as the first attacker launched himself at her. Metal clashed hard as he swung his broad blade toward her. She moved on instinct, every motion honed by solars of training. Beside her, Makhel was a whirlwind of leather precision. She dispatched the orc by sinking her blade directly into his throat. She grinned, blood rushing out around her weapon and down onto her hand. She pulled it back and pushed him down onto the ground. He gripped his neck, struggling to breathe until his last breath was taken. She spun around just in time; another large orc came at her.
She had trained her entire life for this.
She was one of the most deadliest of orcs around, and these who fought her soon found out the hard way. It felt damn good to finally unleash what had been building inside her since knowing she’d been sent here to find out who, exactly, was plotting against her father.
“Ticantus namaci!” Nargol shouted.
