Page 77 of The Savage Vow
Every warrior wished for a warrior’s death and the opportunity to find themselves at Nogora’s side in the afterlife, feasting in the Halls of Ironfang. This was where the strongest warriors were eternally honored.
She released his body and allowed him to fall. He hit the ground with a heavy thud.
Silence fell around the camp. She scoured the area. Bodies were everywhere, but Yambul was gone.
As was Grat.
A growl erupted from Nargol. Her heart thundered. She sprinted over to the cave. The women screamed and shrank back away from her. They were all dirty, looked as if they hadn’t eaten in a few days, and were bound.
“Where did that orc take Orlena?” she demanded. “The other human female. Where did they go?”
One brave soul lifted her hand and pointed in the direction of the mountain. “They went that way,” she whispered.
Nargol followed her finger and released a curse.
“I am not like them,” Nargol said, trying to soften her voice. These women had been through so much. She didn’t want to scare them any more than they already were. “Are any of you hurt?”
Heads shook. They watched her cautiously. She pulled a small dagger from her ankle sheath and handed it to the one who’d spoken.
“Can you free everyone?” Nargol asked.
The woman hesitated first but moved toward her and took the knife. She nodded. “Are you going to get her back?”
“I will, and that orc will pay for taking my mate,” she announced. She straightened to her full height and motioned to them. “If you are able, there is a path that you can take that will lead you down the mountain.”
“Where should we go?” the one who’d taken the knife asked. She cleared her throat and pushed up off the ground.
“Once you reach the bottom of the mountain, follow the sound of rushing water. There is a river. Follow it north until it bends in the shape of a broken tusk. There’s an old hunter’s shelter there that should be safe. I will have someone come for you.” Nargol had found the place on her way here to the mountain. It was stocked with necessities for the passing hunter. It would provide them shelter, food, and water for the night.
“What about those orcs who are out there?” a voice called out from the back of the cave.
The women were now speaking in hushed tones amongst each other. Nargol glanced behind her at the bodies on the ground. She bit back a smile and turned to them.
“They won’t be bothering anyone ever again.” She spun on her heels and took off running in the direction the woman had pointed. Her bow was still strapped to her back, and she had a few more knives hidden on her body. Just in case there were surprises waiting for her.
Up the mountain she headed. Her feet carried her swiftly. She scanned the area and easily found the path that the older orc had taken with her mate. Yambul was not hiding his trail. Broken branches. Scuffed earth.
He was panicking.
Good. He should be. Panic made prey careless, and right now, he was being very careless. Her rage burned hotter with every step. If he harmed one hair on Orlena’s head?—
She would not just kill him. She would erase him from existence.
The wind grew sharper as she climbed higher. The forest thinned, giving way to scraggy rocks and sparse brush clinging desperately to life. She paused only once to listen.
Voices.
Not too far ahead. She crept forward, using a stone outcropping for cover. The trees ended abruptly at a cliff’s edge. Moonlight spilled across the open area.
Yambul stood near the drop. Orlena was bound in front of him, with his arm locked around her waist.
Nargol stepped into view.
“There you are.” Yambul grinned.
“Release her,” Nargol ordered.
“Or what?” he taunted.
