The march back to the tribe’s hold was brutal. Many of the older women collapsed on the way, dead before they hit the ground. Those that fell by the wayside were pounced upon by the orcs behind - Lurgak tried to prevent the prisoners from seeing what happened to those bodies, but it was impossible to block out the sounds. The remaining women huddled together in fear. Elen cast a look at Lurgak, who moved closer to her.

“It’s not far now.” He whispered. “Keep going.”

“I’m not sure that I can.” She whispered back, pain in her voice. She was beginning to stumble.

“You can. You must. Lean on me when you can. I’ll get you through this, Elen. I promise.”

She leaned against him, gratefully borrowing his strength. “Why are you helping me, Lurgak?”

Before he could answer, a shrill horn rang out, and the marching column shuddered to a halt. Lurgak quickly herded the women off the road, to a little patch of grass, where they sank to their knees weeping. Behind them, the orcs were fanning out, finding cool places to rest and drink. “One hour!” came the command from the front of the column. “Then we move again!”

Lurgak sat with the women, and Elen sank to her knees beside him, grateful for the cool grass, and the shade of the tree overhead.

“Rest,” Lurgak said. “You’ve done well, but it’s not over yet. Rest, sleep, get your strength back.” He turned to Elen. “You too.” Elen nodded, waves of tiredness washing over her. She sank forward, and the last thing she recalled before sleep took her was the strong arm of Lurgak catching her.

As Elen surrendered to sleep, she swayed forward. Lurgak put out his arm, and caught her, pulling her to him. She sank against him, warm and soft against his calloused body. Fast asleep. Defenceless. Helpless. It would be so easy. He looked down at her body, young, firm, and felt the monster growing within him. His eyes began to darken, but he shook his head. “No. I am not like them.” He breathed deeply as her scent filled his nostrils, then snarled suddenly as a younger Orc padded closer, pawing at her ankles. The younger orc smirked, made a rude gesture, and walked off laughing. Lurgak closed his eyes, forcing himself to calm, as Elen stirred in his arms.

She woke, her body warm against the solidness of his, and she suddenly jerked upright, her eyes darting from left to right.

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“It’s all right.” Lurgak’s voice behind her was gruff, but calm. “You’re safe.” She turned to face him, tears in her eyes.

“Safe? How can you say that?”

“Because I’m here. And I won’t let anything happen to you, Elen.” He stood up and crossed over to her quickly. Kneeling, he took his hands in hers. “I don’t know what this is. I don’t know why I feel this way. But every ounce of my being wants to protect you. Elen, I won’t lie - what is come will not be….pleasant. But I swear, I will fight every last orc in my tribe if I have to, to keep you safe. Stay close to me. Lean on me if you need to.”

She paused, looking into his eyes. “You truly mean that. I see it in your face. Lurgak…”

“Hush. Later. For now, we need to get you to safety.” She nodded, and allowed him to help her to her feet.

“What about the others?”

“It’s not too far now. The ones most likely to fall, get them to walk on the inside. Let the others hold them up. I’ll do what I can.”

As the order came down the line to advance once more, the orcs fell back into line. The women obeyed Lurgak’s orders, the younger, stronger women to the outside, supporting the older women, preventing them from stumbling or falling.

Eventually, as night began to fall, and Elen’s eyes and steps were growing heavy, Lurgak moved beside her again. He put his hand on the small of her back and whispered to her. “Courage now. We’re almost there.” He paused, before continuing “I can do no more for them. Once the sorting happens, they’re on their own. But you - stay close to me. And remember, do as I say. It won’t be pleasant, but I promise it’ll be fast.” He added, almost under his breath, “One way or the other.”

“Lurgak…” She looked up at him, and he smiled, sadly.

Suddenly, orders rang out in the night air. The women were peeled away to one side. Elen made to go with them, but Lurgak kept hold of her arm, and shook his head. One by one, the women were brought forward to an orc with a nasty leer, known as the Whipmaster, holding a whip in one hand and a branding iron in the next. He looked each woman up and down, deciding if they were fit to serve, or condemned to the mines. The ones deemed unfit to serve were wrenched to one side, their arms laid bare, and branded with the tribal mark. Their screams pierced the night sky. Those who were to become slaves were marched into a holding pen. When the last woman had been inspected, an old grandmother with few teeth, and sent to be branded with the others for the mines, the orc turned to the slaves. “You have had your last night of freedom.” He snarled. “But now you must know your masters. Now you will know how we conquered you!” He threw his head back and laughed as a group of orcs ran to the pens, pushing the women to the ground, tearing their clothes from them, laughing and yelling as they took turns in raping them.

Lurgak turned Elen away. “You don’t need to see this.” He said, gently.