Page 9

9

Cedar

S he wasn’t stupid, just very full of pee .

When Lord Kargorr hadn’t come back for quite some time, Cedar poked her head out of the tent and glanced from side to side. Maybe this could be her chance, she thought.

But there was some kind of activity going on, and orcs were now everywhere, talking amongst themselves as they began pulling down tents and rolling up the leather. She had tugged on her skirt and kept a fur wrapped around her shoulders as she searched for signs of her captor. He hadn’t told her where to go to relieve herself, and now he was gone.

Cedar couldn’t hold it for a moment longer, so she ducked behind the tent, searching for somewhere out of sight. A few tents over there were some trees, up against a low hill. She ran to it, peeled up her skirt—legs shivering—and peed in the snow.

Then, off by the tent, she heard a roar. She could have mistaken it for a bear if she didn’t recognize the tenor, the guttural lilt of Lord Kargorr’s voice.

She hurriedly finished, then pushed her skirt down and ran out from behind the trees. There, Cedar saw him, that massive beast of an orc, scouring the snow for her. She hoped he wouldn’t think she was running. It was too soon.

“I’m over here,” she called, and he spun around, glowering at her. “I had to, you know—pee.”

His lips were peeled back in a harsh scowl, his tusks dragged down low on his face. That scar looked more brutal than ever with his skin stretched and pinched. When she approached, he didn’t speak—instead, he leaned down and sniffed her.

“Hmm.” His posture relaxed somewhat, and she hoped he could smell she was telling the truth. “Well, did you?”

Cedar nodded fiercely. She wanted to be out of the cold now, bare legs and all. With a grunt and a nod, Lord Kargorr turned around and led her back to the tent. She exhaled a relieved breath.

“Next time,” he snarled to her once they were inside, “use this.” He retrieved a closed basket, and when he opened it, she found the inside was lined with some sort of waterproof leather. He placed it outside the entrance to the tent. “Someone will empty it for us.”

It was a surprisingly keen invention for people she considered so brutish, but it would certainly prevent Cedar from having to wander off into the snow.

Only a moment later, someone knocked on the post, and Kargorr opened the tent flap. To Cedar’s surprise, a human woman stood outside, her head bowed, a neatly folded pile of clothes in her arms. Kargorr grunted in acknowledgement, took the clothes, and let the flap fall closed again.

Cedar watched as he examined the garments, hoping that she might finally have pants. There was a coat, a tunic, and thankfully... a pair of pants.

“Eat first,” Kargorr told her, gesturing at the food that was still steaming.

Cedar didn’t have to be told twice. After last night and this morning, she was absolutely ravenous. Kargorr ate bits and pieces off the tray as she devoured her meal. It was delicious, full of fat and flavor and even plenty of salt. She was much too hungry to give much thought to his dark eyes as he watched her.

Finally, when she was finished, Cedar got up and tried on the clothes. He had already seen her, all of her, many times over now, so she merely ignored his gaze as she changed. The leather was remarkably soft under her hands, pliable and smooth, the stitches incredibly even. Cedar herself couldn’t sew that well, and she marveled at it before slipping the tunic on over her head.

“I have much to attend to today,” Lord Kargorr said, rising at last. “Stay here. There will be two guards on duty.” The orc narrowed his eyes at her. “If you try to leave, they’ll be the first to tell me.”

Briefly Cedar wondered how long he’d be gone, and what she would have to do in the meantime. She thought she might at least have some movement available to her, that perhaps she could have run of the camp. But no, he was planning to keep her prisoner in his tent, for who knew how long.

She almost objected to being left and confined there, but she remembered her plan. Obedient. Subdued . That was how she would get free of this place—by playing a part and playing it well.

So Cedar sat down on the bed to show she didn’t plan on going anywhere. With a sharp nod of approval, Lord Kargorr turned around and walked out into the snow, leaving her alone.

Alone. She really was alone now, more than she’d ever been living under Lissa.

Still exhausted after the way Kargorr had taken her this morning and last night, and still wearing her soft new clothes, Cedar climbed back into the furs and fell asleep.

Kargorr

He had much to do preparing the parog for a move. The mammoths would need to be lured back in, and then all the fences and posts for the tents loaded up onto sledges for them to pull. He had already sent off nine of his warriors to fan out and locate the herd, then bring them back in. He hoped they would return in two days’ time, so as not to delay their departure.

But his thoughts would still wind back to what was waiting for him in his tent. Cedar’s small, supple body was like the most delicious meal, a food that he longed to get his mouth around again. He ought to get back to her soon, to continue rutting her and securing the bond between them.

He didn’t like the idea of seeing her pale pink backside torn open by the lash of a whip, but if she tried to escape while he was away, he would have no choice but to punish her—he’d have to make an example of her, or his parog would not respect him. Kargorr would make it in her best interest not to attempt it.

Or was it that his body had simply awoken, and now it wanted to sate years of built-up carnal need? Certainly he felt that just as much. His cock twitched at the thought of the human’s sweet cunt, the sight of her underneath him, the way her legs had squeezed so passionately around his hips.

There was an animal inside her, too, and he wondered if he could fashion a key to unlock it.

He barked orders as he patrolled the perimeter of the camp, overseeing the preparation. The parog had not moved in two years, and they had grown lazy and started putting down roots. All of those would need to be torn up, and it would be a difficult process when they had accumulated so much.

Kargorr paused when he reached the livestock pens where Cedar’s pigs were kept. When he stopped to survey them, the stablemaster emerged from the hut that had been erected nearby.

“We lost one piglet overnight,” he said as he approached, then stopped a respectful distance away. “The others are thriving, but I don’t know how we’ll take them on our journey.”

So he understood that this pig was important. Good. Kargorr watched the piglets fumble over themselves to get to their mother. Cedar had been desperate to save them, a sign that she had a softer side, a side that could be appealed to.

“We will bring them,” Kargorr said. He surveyed the piglets, and an idea came to him. “They’ll have their own sledge if need be.”

The caretaker only just held in his surprise. He nodded in understanding. “Of course, Lord Kargorr. I’ll make sure they get to their destination safely.”

“Good.” Kargorr passed the pens, mulling over his idea as he approached the stables. He hadn’t seen Liga in some time, and surely his cat would be testy with him if he didn’t come bearing gifts. Speaking of bonds he needed to forge and maintain, if he wanted Liga to be pliable enough for their upcoming trip, he should attend to her.

There was no one around as he entered the icehouse, where meat was slung across the ice, venison and beef and even other pigs they’d found and butchered during their raid. He flicked his knife out of his belt and sliced off a good chunk of some prime red meat, and then another piece, thinking of how long it had been since he’d called on his cat.

Bearing both slabs of meat, he left the icehouse and headed out onto the snow-covered plain beyond the camp. He saw the telltale humps of white just beyond the perimeter and held up the raw beef.

“Come, Liga!” he called out, letting the air pick up the scent of the meat. Then he waited.

Out in the snow, one of the lumps moved. It rose up, higher and higher, until it had reached its full height. If he were any human man, Liga could simply snap him up in one or two big mouthfuls. But a cat was much less likely to attempt such a feat against the grrosek . There was a grudging respect for one another, as interdependent species often have. The parog kept them fed, and the cats carried their riders from place to place.

Liga was female, but one of the biggest in their clan, just like her mother had been. She curled her shoulders as she stretched, showing off her huge, lithe body. When her mouth opened in a yawn, it revealed her massive fangs, which jutted down from her upper jaw long past her bottom one, even with her mouth askew and her pink tongue bared.

After her long stretch, Liga made her languid way toward where Lord Kargorr stood standing, watching him from the side of her eye. Oh, it had been too long, he realized, when she stopped a good twenty feet from him. Her affection would need to be repurchased.

Kargorr tossed the meat toward her, and it landed in the snow. She leaned down, her long, furry neck extending as she sniffed it. She hooked one of her immense claws in it and dragged it toward her, spreading blood across the white fur of her paw. Her ears lowered as she examined it, sniffing again.

Then she pushed it away. Kargorr cursed to himself. First Cedar had refused him, and now Liga. All the females in his life were obstinate, and he had little patience for it. But he would have to lure her in, the way he knew he had to lure Cedar in, if he was to earn her obedience.

“Liga,” he murmured, taking a step closer. She raised her head, but didn’t growl. That was a good start. He held up the other piece of meat, and her yellow eyes followed, her lip peeling back at the smell. So she wanted it, but she would teach him a lesson in the process.

“I know that you’re angry with me.” He took another step. “I don’t blame you. I’ve been absent.”

As if she could understand him, Liga pinned her ears back, and her hair stood up. But he wasn’t deterred. He had tamed her as a kitten, when she was only the size of a dog. He knew she hadn’t forgotten him.

“You think I only come to you when I need your help.” And she would be right. He took another step, and her hair rose further, but she didn’t move to attack or to retreat. “But aren’t we friends, too?”

It was different with the mammoths. All the grrosek had to do was wave their hands and lash a whip, and the mammoths would go whichever direction they asked. But cats were more complicated creatures, with minds of their own. Kargorr leaned down to pick up the meat she had pushed away.

“Come now, kitten,” he told her, and her tail twitched in warning. “Come back to me.” He held out the meat and then dangled the second piece next to it. The quick dart of her eyes between them gave her away.

At last, she took a step forward, and he tossed the meat to her. Liga caught it mid-air, and it vanished into her mouth in one massive bite. She padded toward the other piece, but he held it away from her.

“You’ll have to follow if you want it,” Lord Kargorr told her, and began making his way back toward camp. Begrudgingly, Liga followed behind him, her eyes riveted on the treat. When they had returned to the livestock pens, Kargorr turned around and offered her the beef. She stopped in front of him, only inches away, where she could take off his face if she so chose. Instead, she lipped the meat from his hand delicately before devouring it.

While she ate, Kargorr stroked her neck, leaving trails of blood along it. Eventually her chill melted, and she leaned into his touch as he scratched behind her ear.

He wondered what sort of meat he could hold in front of Cedar. When she was full with his orcling, he couldn’t have her trying anything foolish. He needed to bind her to him, like Liga was.

It was just a matter of how.