Page 19 of Finding Her Luck
He helped her mount Searnon, pushing the animal's head away when she tried to lick Corrin. Unable to hold back, Corrin laughed at the argument, shaking her head at the unbelievable bizarreness of their behavior. Petting her fingers through the bristly spines of the animal's neck ruff, she said, "You are the strangest mount."
With her long tooth-filled maw, Searnon could bite Corrin in half, but acted instead like an intelligent mother. Smart, agile, deadly, the relationship between the Orki and their mounts looked like friendship, not master and pet. She eased in to place on the saddle, wincing at the pressure against her bruised bottom.
Urku-ri turned her head with a touch on her chin, his fingers brushing over her lips. He spoke in an incomprehensible string of Orki, his blue eyes shining with different facets of light blue—sky trapped in a kaleidoscope.
Suddenly, he stiffened.
A wave of tension went over the group. Corrin felt the change in the air. The Orki with the pierced ears said something as every male in the group pulled out their weapons. The two massive axes that Searnon carried slipped from their cases into Urku-ri's hands.
All the women were quickly reseated, while twelve Orki looked in the same direction at once, waiting. With hearing and vision better than her own, the hunting party knew things she didn't. She didn't know how duties were divided, who was scout, lookout, rear guard, or lead, but they worked together as a unit now, as balanced as the perfect steel blade. Both the Orki and their mounts were comfortable in the night air, half-dressed, without any torches. Corrin thought when they used them it was for human benefit. Travel in the dark would have been a disadvantage for human travelers, but she was no longer in the human world.
Several heavy, nervous thumps of her heart later, ahead of them in the darkness, a war beast, not one of their own, made a noise between a cough and a growl. She never heard them bark; they were not dogs.
It was Searnon who answered the noise with a rumble of her own. The animals communicated. Introducing themselves, she thought with bemusement.
After, an Orki called out.
Urku-ri's answering bellow made her start. She checked him for a reaction. Holding his axes loose at his sides, he appeared relaxed, only watchful and ready—not aggressive. A single Orki walked forward between the other riders, dismounting his beast. Although she couldn't see them, Corrin felt certain that there were more Orki out there, among the trees, rocks, and brush in the dark.
This newcomer was a skinny male, with tusks coming from his mouth, curling up toward his nose, his unappealing face smashed and wrinkled.
She glanced down when she felt a tap on her side, the flat of Urku-ri's ax.
"Not for Corrin. Eyes down," Urku-ri said.
The command was colder and more forceful than she had heard from him all day, immediately making her want to resist.
Gritting her teeth, she forced her eyes to look at the top of Searnon's head between the beast's long pointed ears.
Was she not worthy to look upon the other Orki? Was she supposed to be submissive and weak in front of all of them? After the touches in the morning hours, and the flirting torment of the day, a confidence had built in her. She'd felt wanted, desired. Moons above, the beast made her feel cherished.
This behavior, cold, superior, reminded her of life at home-dismissed, insulted, and unworthy.
The flat edge of that ax pressed into her calf and thigh, big enough that she felt it all along her bent leg. A silent warning as the conversation continued. Unable to look around, she heard other noises. Another voice. Possibly another war beast. Shuffling. A voice lifted. Words exchanged. The ax, tapping against her side, a forceful reminder.
It was hard to make out voices. Three Orki talking. Maybe four. But the war beasts were talking as well, exchanging grunting, coughing noises, and growls. She couldn't tell if they were arguing or negotiating.
She sat there for ten minutes. Heard a woman cry out and the sound of flesh against flesh, a spanking. That cold ax head, was not hurting her, but it was a constant threat. Don't look. Don't ask questions. Don't move. It took everything Corrin had not to seek answers. The need to know what was happening was a massive temptation. If she did, she'd get another spanking or worse, she knew it. She thought maybe that was the cry of a woman who had looked and was getting punished for it like a disobedient child.
Without turning her head, she saw the strange male, whose eyes were on the intimidating Orki at her side. He acted as if he didn't see her. As if she didn't exist.
The ax moved. A firm slap. Oh moons. She hadn't meant to look. How could he know? That was not her fault. Why was this so important?
He treated her like nothing after he spent every waking moment since the last rest making her feel like she was something. Anxious she had another inevitable spanking coming, Corrin leaned forward when Urku-ri mounted behind her.
The torches lit while they stopped, were extinguished. The animals took off as one into the dark of the Orki original lands. She couldn't be sure, but she thought they now numbered thirteen instead of twelve.
CHAPTER SEVEN
NOT A FOOLISH WOMAN
Arms and legs around her, Urku-ri held her, but the warm companionship they'd shared earlier disappeared, replaced with a stomach-churning tension.
He did not immediately bind her, flip her, and spank her. A mystifying desire filled Corrin to just ask him to do it, get it over with and then forgive her. She wanted to go back to when he chased her smiles with his fingers and teased her with almost-there touches.
He sat firm. Silent. A rock cage.
Searnon ate up the distance with her long legs and her easy loping trot. The war beasts were tireless, incredible creatures. With more stamina than farm livestock, more intelligent than dogs, and an ability to communicate with each other and their riders, they were unlike any animal she'd heard of in school.
