Salvation

Jumping back into the carriage, I called, “Come on, let’s go!” I didn’t understand why he was just standing there, waiting for them to come.

“The orcs will chase us, it’s better to stand our ground. I’ll take care of them.”

Tribal and wild, orcs were known for their bloodlust and violence. They even killed each other, even if it was over the smallest of arguments. The orcs that changed us now snarled as they roared, swinging their axes and clubs in the air, and dwarfing the horses they road. Not wanting to witness any slaughter, I urged him further. “There must be over ten of them. There are too many.”

“Twelve, actually. They’re just orcs, they won’t put a scratch on me.”

His confidence was lost on me. I knew that given enough of something, it would be powerful. Swarms and mobs were dangerous.

“Please, get inside, they’ll-” The group was near now, I could see their tusks that jutted upward from their lower incisors, and insanity in their eyes.

In a defensive stance facing their orcs, his eyes focused, he said, “Close the door.”

“Get in!”

As a javelin was hurled towards us, hitting our driver, he kicked the door shut. The frightening sound of the twelve orcs’ battle cry reached my ears mingled with the Bard’s, a metal singer scream.

Common sense was not in high supply as I lifted the corner of the curtain to see if the Bard was all right. He stood about five feet in front of the door, guarding it, as the orcs began to surround him. Brandishing a sword I didn’t know he carried, he parried the oncoming attacks. Some of the attacks grazed him, but it only slashed his clothing. Several more charged toward the door, causing me to grip the seat in fear.

The Bard threw his hand high and a flourish of mist and sparkles rendered him immobile, the orcs took the opportunity to attack. The orcs hacked at the mist and met no resistance as the Bard was not there. In their confusion they glanced around to find the Bard was at their backs, stabbing one and kneeing the other in the groin, sweeping down two orcs in a matter of seconds. Now removed from the melee he focused his magical energy to hurl another orc into the air, flying a hundred yards away.

I saw the Bard begin to cast another spell as he began to glow, and ducked. A shout came from the Bard, something I couldn’t understand, followed by many cries of pain from the orcs. The carriage jolted as more weapons, and dead orcs, hit the outside, breaking the glass windows.

It couldn’t be that they were so inaccurate that they were hitting the carriage instead of the Bard. They’d easily enough taken out our driver. Adrenaline rushed through my veins as I feared they were coming for me.

More windows broke, from the wrong side of the carriage, and I swirled around to see two snarling faces. They were much scarier up close, their eyes bloodshot and spit dripping down their chins.

“Help!” I screamed. Essentially I was trapped, surrounded by orcs on both sides. No amount of hiding could save me now.

The Bard’s furious face met mine for an instant through the ripped curtain before severing the head off of an orc, his blood spurting all over the Bard’s face and clothes.

Large green hands reached into the carriage through the windows, grabbing my arms. Being much weaker than they, the orcs dragged me through broken glass still wedged in the window frame, slicing through my dress and into my chest and abdomen, crying out in agony as the glass broke off the frame. I made the mistake of inspecting my wounds and felt faint from the sight of so much blood.

Another shout from the Bard and the two orcs that had taken me were now punching each other, competitiveness overtaking them. As I scurried away from the two, I was suddenly teleported inside the carriage again, safe for now. I pulled the shards of glass that were lodged deeply in my skin and held my hand to my stomach, trying to slow the bleeding. The pieces were large, about the size of my hand, and blood covered half of the shard. Glancing out the window, the Bard still had about five orcs still wailing their weapons at him, plus the two on the other side of the carriage, temporarily fighting each other.

The Bard’s fury only escalated as the fight progressed and I saw an orc withdraw, but it was too late for him. The Bard snapped his leg up and into the orc’s face, hitting him between the eyes. The orc was reeling for a moment before a quick slash across the ribcage created a relentless red river of blood. The Bard spun around to meet his other aggressors without hesitation, but I didn’t watch what he did next, my eyes fixated on the bloody mess that used to be an orc, in awe of how brutal this ambush was becoming.

Noticing I had disappeared, I assumed, the two orc’s hands again reached into the carriage and pulled me out. I screamed for help again, but the Bard was too distracted to help, five orcs surrounding him. One of the orcs that had taken me jumped onto the back of his horse while the other threw me over the back. I tried to kick at their shins, but they wore leather armor and my attacks had no effect. The orc rider turned the horse and forced it into a gallop, causing even more pain to my stomach. The elbow in my back rendered me unable to jump off the horse, no matter that the sharp point jabbing me in the spine left me paralyzed with pain.

As I lifted my head, I saw the Bard’s rage as he stood barricaded by the orcs that surrounded him. His eyes locked with mine for a moment, and I could see the determination in them. I shouted to him and the orc’s voice above me said, “Shut up, woman,” and the blinding blow to the back of my head knocked me out cold.

***

Rumbling voices made my head ache, which throbbed from the blow. They seemed to be arguing about something a short distance away, leaving me alone for the moment. There was a sharp pain in my abdomen as I took in a breath, though it felt like the wound had stopped bleeding. Blackness met my eyes as I opened them and I started to reach to see if there was a blindfold, but I couldn’t move my hands. Lying uncomfortably on my side, the weight of my body crushed the arm that was awkwardly shoved behind my back, tied to the other arm. As I dragged my head along the cold dry earth, trying to move the object obstructing my vision, my temple met the dirt directly. There was no blindfold.

My eyes blinked rapidly and frantically searched for something to see. I knew orcs could see very well in the dark, maybe they didn’t have any light source. Even if they didn’t have a fire lit, there should still be moonlight, some ability to see.

Knowing there were orcs nearby and I couldn’t see them made me panic. I was a fly in a spider web, unable to move, unable to do anything but scream. Heart beating a mile a minute, I began to almost hyperventilate with the anticipation of death, or worse.

One of the voices drew nearer, having noticed my movements, I figured. He spoke in a gruff and consonant filled language, the words short and terse. Laughter resounded from the distance, which I didn’t find too comforting.

A hand gripped my arm tightly, pulling me up to stand. The slices in my stomach were strained and threatened to break open, the pierced muscles raw and the dry blood cracking, causing me to hiss in pain. A slap to the face greeted me, stinging and bruising my cheek. One of them shouted angrily across the room from me, and the orc’s grip slightly loosened on my arm.

The orc’s lack of hygiene made me want to gag. His breath was hot and foul, as if he’d eaten rotten meat, or more likely, food was rotting in his teeth. Sweat and blood emanated heavily from his skin, but it was tolerable if I turned my head away.

Weakened from my wounds and scared to death, I shook uncontrollably. I hadn’t eaten since morning, and I didn’t know how long I’d been unconscious. My mouth was layered with dirt and the inside felt like I had swallowed some as well. My eyes darted about me, hopelessness trying to see something.

Spitting out what earth I could, I timidly asked, “What do you want with me?” I hoped they could understand that much.

Laughter was my answer, followed by lewd sounds that I couldn’t help but understand. Shuffling feet approached me. “We want you, whore.” More laughter and grunts came from across what I would assume was a room. “And every one of us will have you before morning.”

My capture was in no way related to being a wanted outlander, they captured me out of sport, happening upon me by chance. Unfortunately, they weren’t holding me for ransom, they wanted to use their love of violence on me. “The man I was with will kill you first.”

The orcs laughed, “Kill us? He’s already dead.”

An image popped in my mind, the Bard, the orcs surrounding him, all the blood. I couldn’t actually tell whose blood was whose. Did the Bard suffer a fatal wound? With so little armor on, I imagined it was possible.

There were orcs here left alive to have witnessed the battle. If he had survived their ambush, wouldn’t he have come for me by now? I couldn’t imagine anything but what they claimed, that they had killed him. The Bard had died trying to save me.

When my knees gave out from under me, the orc brutally gripped my arms to keep me standing. More shouting came and what sounded like wrestling and furniture being knocked over reached my ears.

One hand reached into the neck of my dress and ripped it off of me, only the thin chemise and drawers left. Blindly, literally, I kicked, hoping to aim for the groin. I realized too late that they had taken my boots, likely because they were valuable, so the contact I made wasn’t effective.

One of the orc’s hands clamped over my mouth, rank and sweaty. With more freedom to move, I twisted around and brought my knee up. He only chuckled at my feeble attempt. Yelling in a commanding voice, whatever he said made several feet shuffle away.

Ripping my chemise down the middle, he said, “Pretty whore, I get you now.” Without the other orcs here to interrupt, he took the opportunity to continue what he started. Dragging me several feet, he pushed me into something and I half fell onto it. Not having my arms free to brace myself, my chin banged against something hard and wooden, causing me to accidentally clamp down on my tongue.

While I was stunned, I felt his disgusting hand traveling up my leg, reaching towards the waist of my drawers. My skin twitched in revulsion and I tried to kick him in the shin, but it was leather-bound. Tears ran down my face as I realized how close this was to being too late. Spitting out blood and taking a deep breath, I screamed as loud as I could, desperation in my throat, blood pumping loudly in my ears. But there was no one to hear me, but the orcs.

The orc laughed, “No one’s coming for you. You’re mine.”

My heart pounding frantically, I squirmed, trying to flip myself on my back, but the orc leaned over me, using his whole body weight, crushing me until I couldn’t breathe. His hands snatched and pulled at my drawers, pulling them to my knees.

A gurgling came from his throat, as if it had been slashed, and I heard his body fall to the floor. I coughed and wheezed, having the weight removed from me, and took in gulps of air. My eyes anxiously tried to see who had entered the room, but they only saw black.

Roughly I was picked up and tossed over someone’s shoulder. The pressure this caused my abdomen caused me to groan. This orc didn’t smell as bad as the first, for that much I was thankful for. He ran with me over his shoulder, jolting me about. I didn’t know why he was carrying me to another place other than he wanted privacy.

The orc’s hands were holding me in place by the thighs, a place where I didn’t want him touching. Through my thin chemise I could feel his large and warm hands, and I tried not to squirm as I thought about what they would do once he let me down.

I heard a distant rumble of a stampede and voices from a large distance away. At least I was away from the large majority of the orcs now. The noises didn’t seem to be growing louder, hopefully they hadn’t noticed this orc snatching me away. Maybe this one would let me go…afterwards.

“Where are we going?”

No response.

I could hear that he was walking through leaves and foliage. We must be quite far from the orc camp, I didn’t remember trees nearby.

For having run a far distance with a woman on his shoulder, he was remarkably not out of breath. In fact I couldn’t hear anything he did besides the noise his feet made.

He clearly didn’t understand how much pain I was in, between my stomach injuries, my arms behind my back, and being upside down. “Please,” my voice high from the stress. “Put me down.”

Halting in his tracks, he kneeled until my feet touched the ground and set me down in front of a tree, feeling the roots and the bark against my back. I curled into a ball in an attempt to defend myself, even though it was pointless.

I wished he would just get it over with so I could be alone. My eyes burned with unshed tears, the pain in my heart outweighing anything else. I tried to summon the image of the Bard, where he smiled, his eyes so beautiful, but it wasn’t clear. Lowering my head into my legs, I cried, knowing I wouldn’t see him again.

The orc was completely silent. I didn’t even know where he was, so when he finally did make a noise, I would jump out of my skin.

I felt a warm gentle hand on my cheek, and I flinched back from it. But the fingers were wrong, they were too small for an orc’s. They felt like…

“Is it you?” I knew that touch, so tender and kind. My eyes flooded with relief that the Bard was here now and a sob broke from my throat.

He never did answer my question, he didn’t need to. Cutting my bonds, he brought me to his chest, warm, comforting, and protective. My hands clung to his collar, covered in blood, needing to find stability. His arms held me tightly to him, ensuring I didn’t collapse, and to still my quivering.

My face buried into his chest, I heard the rapid thump of his heart and tasted the blood on his clothes, but it didn’t matter, he was here with me. A hand brushed my hair back from my eyes and tilted my chin upwards. As a tear ran down my cheek, he swiped it away with a thumb. His breathing was shallow and labored above me as my hands searched for his face, traveling up his neck. Lifting my head, I rested my cheek against his and my arms wrapped around his shoulders. Turning my head, I cried into his cheek, my lips brushing against the warm skin. I found myself kissing his cheek, thankful beyond words. My lips couldn’t let go of his skin, they continued, making an arc down his cheek. When they met the edge of his mouth, they hesitated, testing the crease, judging his reaction. Little by little my lips traveled across his, until I was half kissing his soft and supple lips. He was unresponsive at first, likely surprised, but he pulled me close to him as his lips moved against mine, tasting like copper and sweetness.

All I could think was, you’re alive, you’re alive, while I embraced him, not willing to break the kiss. My hands searched every inch of him, stroking his jaw, smooth and angular, his hair, smooth and thick, his shoulders, muscled and wide.

Wicked and teasing, his lips continued to ply at mine as his hands ran up and down my back, pressing me closer to him. The way his hands pressed against me, tense and strong, I knew he needed to touch me as desperately as I did.

Quickly I buried my face into his chest again before I could do something really reckless. “I was so scared, they told me they had killed you, I didn’t think you were coming,” I whispered.

“It would take more than a horde of orcs to kill me, silly girl.”

The ends of my mouth lifted, “I’m so glad you’re here.”

He breathed in and out slowly, his voice strangely high when he said, “I’m so sorry, this shouldn’t have happened.” Brushing his thumb over my eyebrow, he added, “Your eyes, you can’t see.”

“I’ve got you, don’t I?” I said.

“Yeah, you do.”

I would have given anything to see his face, to know what he was feeling. I could hear in his voice that he was emotional about something, whether it was relief or something else, I wish I knew.

Lifting me against him, he carried me as he took a seat against the trunk of a tree. My arms came around his neck and I curled my legs in his lap, causing me to grimace in pain from my wound.

“I’ll do everything I can to make you right again,” he whispered.

Frightening as it was that everything around me was unknown, he was with me, I wasn’t alone. He set me back away from him, my hands still clinging to him. Feeling his hand pass along my stomach, inspecting my wounds, he uttered several words I didn’t understand. My wounds burned hot for a moment and then they didn’t pain me anymore. Bringing a hand there, I searched for the wounds that were no longer there.

Looking in his direction, I said, “I didn’t know you could do that.” Typically the holy and devoted had the ability to heal.

“There are many things that I can do that would surprise you.” Taking a hold of my chemise, he murmured some more words and the ripped edges pulled together, the stiffness of the dried blood gone.

I smiled, but didn’t question him. Laying my head on his shoulder, I relaxed against him, content.

The Bard’s arms tightened around me as he stood, carrying me with him. My arms linked behind his neck, my head rested in the crook of his neck, which burned with heat. Covered only by a thin pair of cotton socks, my dangling feet were ice cold.

“Where are we going?”

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t like the smell of orc on me,” he said, nudging his nose against my cheek. “We’re going to the creek nearby.”

It surprised me he knew the local area so well. Knowledge of my own town was embarrassingly low, and yet we were in the middle of nowhere and he knew exactly where things were and how to get there.

As I thought about the man carrying me, there wasn’t much I knew about him. Trusting someone I didn’t know was crazy. Whenever I would ask a question he would always be evasive. If only I could ask whatever I wanted and know more about him, and why he was going so far out of his way to help me, and protect me.

He didn’t have to rescue me, and yet he did. Having me in his life would be the same as not having me in it. Without me he could carry on traveling and performing.

What had he said in my dream? That I was interesting, that other girls bore him? Was that the reason he saved me? That he had something to lose if I’m wasn’t a part of his life? Something different?

I had a hard time believing that I was so unique that every other person in this world just wouldn’t do. Though I had thought what he said was a figment of my imagination, the way he acted echoed those words. The first dream I’d had, he had known about. He must have known about the second one, and he hadn’t led me to believe the words in the dream were false.

Then there was the moment where I’d lost my mind and kissed him. He didn’t push me away, just the opposite, giving as much as I did, but not more, for which I was glad. Mostly.

To kiss him again would be so easy. I could feel the air he breathed so close to my ear. If I tilted my head just a fraction and if he turned his…but I was too much of a coward to move. My fingers brushed against his hair, amazingly untangled and smooth. As I shivered, the places where his body touched mine made my skin glow in warmth. My feet however were about numb.

“I’m so cold.”

“Just a bit longer, sweetheart.”

Patient and sincere, he was sweeter towards me since our incident. Burrowing my nose into his neck, to fight the chill, I detected the cologne he must have applied earlier in the day. He didn’t smell like an orc as he had claimed.

I wished I knew his name, what to call him by, what to whisper in tender moments such as this. The secrecy of his identity ate at my brain. A native would have figured it out already, he had said. Why couldn’t he just tell me who he was?

So I asked him. “Why won’t you tell me who you are?”

The sounds of nightlife, owls, crickets, and the leaves and grass crackling beneath his feet were my answer. I sighed and adjusted my hold on his neck.

Eventually, he quietly said, “Once you know who I am, things will change.”

“What things?”

The Bard sighed and rested his head against mine. “I shouldn’t be with you, in any capacity. Once you know who I am, you’ll realize that too. So, I’m being selfish not telling you about myself.”

“How could I want to not be with you? You saved me, you’re doing so much for me.” Why shouldn’t I be with him? Had he done something terrible in his past that tainted his name? “Keeping this secret from me isn’t good either. If you’re honest with me-”

“I can’t, though I want to. Helping you figure out who I am is all I can do.”

“Why?”

“You’ll understand once you know who I am.”

“All right.” Grateful that he was willing to help me figure out who he was, I smiled. “You shouldn’t worry, that is, if you are, you’ve proven yourself to me, I wouldn’t hold something against you that you did in your past.”

Scoffing, he said, “Everyone does, once they know. They either hate me, or think themselves in love with me.”

I didn’t know which bothered him more. “And if someone actually loved you?”

The leaves stopped their crackling, his body unmoving. I could hear the flowing water nearby. Lowering me, he set me upon the ground. Rustling clothes were thrown beside me with a thud, followed by splashing. Patting my hand on the ground about me I found his jacket and curled myself into it.

Never answering my question, I considered the matter dropped. Maybe he didn’t like the idea of anyone loving him. As I lay on the ground unprotected by the cold and lurking wildlife, I felt uncomfortable. I tried not to panic.

Within a couple of minutes, the Bard emerged from the water and approached me. After some rustling, he lowered close to me. “I’m going to prepare a camp, with a spell. I’ll teach you properly when you can see, but for now I will explain.” Sitting up, I nodded and wrapped his jacket closer around me. Continuing he said, “First you must have the right items, and the right amount.”

“Like a recipe.”

“Yes. Pretend we are making a meal. For this spell, we need residuum, or rare herbs. Then we must add them in a specific order, and in the right spot. So, next we’ll draw markings in the earth, a large circle and then four smaller circles outside it, marking north, south, east and west. Every few minutes, we add the ritual components to one circle. To finish the spell, you speak the correct words, for this it is, thurirli, si relgr shafaer wux ekess xurwk sia okarthel. Since you don’t know how to speak Draconic, it will be hard for you to remember, I’m sure. I’ll have to teach you the language as well.

I could feel that the spell had already taken effect, there was a warm glow before me, the light visible to me. Things moved around me and gathered towards us. “Tell me what’s happening.”

“The spell conjures spirits to gather the materials needed to make camp and also assembles it. They’ve made the fire and they’re now making our tent. It’s a very useful spell to know. Now that I have the light, I would like to try to remedy your impairment. This spell is a little dangerous and difficult, so I’ll need full concentration.”

“Dangerous?”

“It can go very wrong if I make a mistake, but don’t worry. I have enough knowledge and experience.” Wrapping his arms around me, he carried me to the other side of the fire and the edge of the canvas brushed my feet. The wind was gone and it was warm inside the tent.

A bedroll met my back as I was laid down, cool and soft. As he let go of me, I reached for him, not wanting him to leave. My hand met the leather of his boot and I gripped it strongly. A light appeared close to me, painfully bright, and I squeezed my eyes shut. My heart was beating hard in my chest, and I realized I was nervous. This was just like having surgery, and just as dangerous. Complications could occur, there was a chance of death. The Bard took my shaking hand in his, “Don’t be afraid,” he said. “I won’t let anything happen.”

“But what if something does happen? What if these were the last moments of my life?”

“I can hear from your song that you won’t die tonight.”

“How can you know for sure? You didn’t know about the orcs. Otherwise you wouldn’t have stopped the coach, wouldn’t have allowed me to read that book.” Thoughts of the orcs swirled me into a panic. The orcs could have followed us and be ready to attack just outside. “The orcs could be near, but you can’t know for sure, can you?”

“Shh, Lillian,” he whispered, trying to comfort me. “I’ll summon some watchmen to ease your nerves, hmm?”

Gripping his hand tightly, I nodded, somewhat relieved. His lips touched my forehead and his hand smoothed over my hair. “I’ll be back in a moment, my love.”

As he moved to leave, my hand in his stayed him. “Please don’t go.” I know I sounded pitiful and afraid. I couldn’t be alone now, not after what happened.

It must have been something in my voice that made him stay. “Of course, Lillian, I’ll stay.” Digging around, he prepared the summoning of the watchmen, explaining as he went. It was comforting listening to his instruction, his voice low and beautiful. I heard the clanking of armored men outside the tent and I jumped, afraid they were the orcs, but he reminded me they were the watchmen protecting us.

The Bard arranged some items and his fingers scraped into the earth as before. Scented smoke filled the small tent and muddied my concentration. Foreign words were murmured softly close to my ear. The light became brighter behind my eyelids and I covered them with my hand. A different scent my nose detected, and it stung my eyes until they watered, filled my lungs until I choked on it. I nearly jumped when I felt his hands massaging my scalp, concentrating at the back of my head. Occasionally his fingernails would gently scratch against my skin, causing me to shiver. My eyes began to burn hot with pain and I bit my lip in an attempt to suppress it and not cry out. Removing my hand, his thumbs grazed over my eyelids, rubbing them in strokes, his fingers curling around my head and in my rumpled hair.

The brightness of the light faded, and I opened my eyes. I saw darkness, but I could see the moonlight through the sliver of an opening in the canvas. Turning my head, I searched for the Bard, reaching out my hand. His eyes glinted in what little light there was, and threads of his blond hair shined. My hand met his perfectly smooth cheek and he smiled, as did I. Now I could finally see the emotion in his face, he was relieved and happy. He took my hand in his two and brought the back to his lips as it were a holy relic, kissing it in devotion.

“Lillian, are you all right now?”

Smiling up at his concerned, yet hopeful face, I said, “Yes. Yes, I can see you.”

Gathering me in his arms, he lifted me into his chest, warm and clean, smelling of scented soap. His shirt was halfway open, revealing his toned chest. My cheek rested upon firm muscle, my lips grazing his skin.

Pulling away from him, I looked into his eyes. Their color was indistinguishable with so little light, but I knew they were sky blue, the kind of blue of a cloudless summer sky. His eyelashes were of the palest blond, as if they had been bleached by the sun. Youth overtook his eyes, as if love struck, though I thought he was in his early thirties.

Smiling, I took his hand and laid back down on the bedroll, slipping my legs inside. “Thank you.” I whispered. My eyes wanted to fall shut, but I forced them open. “Will you stay while I try to fall asleep?”

Nodding, he said, “Yes, of course. You should rest your eyes.” Laying along side me, he held my hand, gazing into my eyes. Before long he hummed a lullaby I recognized as the one he had played in the inn, slow and melancholy. My eyes drifted shut and I fell asleep with a smile on my face.