Page 72 of The Savage Vow
Spy.
Just a piece of ass.
The memory of Bula’s—Nargol’s—eyes locking with hers. She had mouthed something to Orlena.
I will come for you.
Orlena clung to that moment, that memory before she had been dragged away. She had to. She had to believe that everything Yambul had said was a lie.
A delicious aroma filled the air and floated to where she and the women sat. The orcs had begun smoking meat torn from bones. Grease glistened in the firelight. The scent churned her stomach.
Beside her, someone sobbed quietly.
Orlena turned her head. The seamstress was shaking violently with tears running down her face.
“It’s going to be okay,” Orlena whispered, even though her own voice trembled.
Would it? She wasn’t sure. She leaned toward another woman who she recognized from working at a shop near hers.
“Are you injured?” Orlena whispered.
The woman’s arms were wrapped around herself as she rocked back and forth. “I’m-I’m not injured.” She shook her head.
“I’m sorry. I believe we’ve met. I can’t remember your name,” Orlena breathed.
“Phoebe. You’re the one who makes the bows,” Phoebe whispered.
Orlena nodded faintly.
“They are talking about trolls. Do you know what that means?” Orlena asked.
“I’ve heard whispers.” Phoebe swallowed hard. She pushed her dark hair from her face. “It’s been said that orcs have been meeting with the trolls. Negotiating.”
“Why would they do that?” Orlena asked. Everything she knew of the trolls wasn’t good. She’d learned when she was a child that they had gone to war with the orcs. Why would orcs now want to negotiate with someone who they considered the enemy?
“They want power that they feel the trolls will give them.”
“But the clan leader?—”
“He’s in on it, too.” Phoebe’s voice broke. She sniffed. “He was the main one inviting the trolls in.”
Something in Orlena splintered. If the clan leader was in on it, too, then how would anyone in Soza be safe? He was to protect the villagers, not turn them over to the enemy. Was this why Bula—Nargol—was truly here? To help save everyone? To put a stop to the rebellious orc’s plans?
“You don’t know what trolls do to humans, do you?” Phoebe leaned closer.
Orlena’s pulse stuttered. Did she want to know? She swallowed hard. “What?”
“We aren’t seen as people. They will try to break us. They will sell us as slaves. Use us. They have tried breeding humans.”
Another woman covered her mouth to stifle a sob. Orlena’s stomach twisted violently at visions of what Phoebe said. She refused to allow things like that to happen to her. She’d rather die than be utilized in any way by trolls.
Orlena pressed her forehead to her knees. A few others sobbed, creating a noise disturbance.
Outside, one of the orcs barked sharply: “Shut them up!”
The cave immediately fell into a strained silence. Minutes dragged like hours. Orlena didn’t know how much time had passed. The sky had grown darker, and the moon was high.
An orc rose from the fire pit, grumbling something crude about ale and needing to relieve himself. He wandered off into the darkness between the trees. He disappeared beyond the reach of the flames.
