Pain. Pain woke her. The normal aches of sleeping on the frozen ground barely registered. This was a different kind of pain.

Senara clenched her eyes closed even tighter. Maybe no one would see she was awake. Maybe she could have this moment of peace before the day started, before the pain began anew.

But no. Why would she even allow herself to think that was a possibility? The sound of heavy boots stalking her way across the hard earth was enough to make her cringe. Stop at someone else. Anyone else, she begged whichever guard was coming in this direction. And it was a no again, of course.

“Get up, girl.” The voice was low, the accent slightly different from the ones she was used to hearing. The sergeant. Most officers had their underlings do all the dirty work. Not this one. “I know you’re awake,” he hissed. “The men will be wanting breakfast soon. Get a move on it.”

Pain exploded through her side, stars dancing on the back of her closed eyelids. The kick hadn’t been a hard one, but it was well placed. Right where the beating had gone the night before. Senara rolled onto her side to protect her ribs and flung an arm out in the man’s direction. He laughed and moved away from her, not bothering to be quiet while the rest of the slaves slept, but not waking any of them to help her either. Apparently she was to make the entire morning meal by herself. Good. Best not to spend time with anyone here anyway.

Once he was far enough away that she didn’t have to worry about being knocked to the ground, Senara rolled to her back, biting her lip to keep a groan from escaping. Agonizingly slow, she got to her feet and picked her way toward the cooking tent through the dark. No one here could have slept through the sergeant rousing her. They were all awake, but pretending otherwise. They had the time. The sun hadn’t even peeked over the horizon yet.

The rest had blankets, but she had none to worry about getting back to the quartermaster. She rubbed at her arms, trying to build up some warmth. Thanks to her big mouth and bad attitude, she hadn’t been lucky enough to be allowed one the night before. Almost surprising, really. The Empire needed to be at its best tomorrow when the troops arrived at Tarsh Vannen. The sergeant was out of line. If one of the commanders found out what had been done to her, one of their most prized fighters, there would be blood. But so far no one she could appeal to had visited the Orcus.

The quartermaster was waiting for her in the food tent. He gave her a grunt and nodded toward a pot. Gruel. Again. She set to work, first going to fill the pot with water under the quartermaster’s less than watchful eye. She was no threat as long as this cursed bracelet was on her arm. She sent a little shiver of magic down toward her side, just a small healing spell. The zap on her bicep made her bite her lip. It was more of a warning than a punishment, but uncomfortable none-the-less. Every morning she felt the need to test the bracelet. Every morning held the same result.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Though the amount of food she had to make was staggering, it didn’t take long since all there was left was gruel and some dried fruit. The soldiers would be angry, but it would be her and the other Orcus who would get that. Orcus couldn’t practice at optimal force when their nutrition was lacking, so they received anything extra while the regular troops would only get gruel.

Soon the soldiers had the other Orcus filing into the small cooking area. They came through in order of power, the first a small, old woman named Wanha. Senara carefully averted her gaze. One did not become old as an Orcus unless one was willing to do things most people would not.

Today, as cook, she would be last. She waited until the children went through and then followed, filling her plate with an extra portion of fruit. No one tried to stop her. The sergeant who had gotten rough with her the night before was new, and a fool. He should have asked around before he had chosen her to bear the brunt of his need to exert authority.

The table stayed almost impossibly quiet. With the amount of people lining the benches, it seemed out of place. No doubt everyone’s thoughts were on the battle tomorrow. She forced down a piece of fruit, the pain in her side nearly causing it to come straight back up. Once she managed to get some privacy, as much as she could anyway, she would have to check and see the extent of the injury. But, for now, she had to swallow as much of this meal down as she could. If she was to survive the trek today, she would need all the energy she could muster. And, always there, in the back of her mind, was the hope that somehow, someday, she would find a way to run. The hope was fading. After years of fighting for the Empire, it was nearly extinguished. But she wouldn’t see a chance come and let it pass by because she was too weak.

Senara eyed her handler, who had a seat at the next table with the rest of them. His dark eyes flashed to hers, but he went right back to his meal. He would have something to say about the beating she took, if he knew. But talk between Orcus and their handlers was forbidden, a precaution against the handlers ever seeing the Orcus as Utharians, just as they were. If she were to try to take this to him, it would just start another beating before she even had the chance to speak. And, as long as she wore the bracelet, she couldn’t do any magic without his express permission. Just the thought of the control he had over her made her face heat with anger.

The soldiers at the nearby table laughed loudly at some joke shared only between them. The Orcus were not allowed to speak at meals. Heat built up in her face again, driving away the chill of the morning. What gave those men the right to live happy, while the rest of the group had to fight without a choice?

The laughing continued. She balled her hand into a fist. She controlled herself enough to not take a step. Until another round of laughter went around. That was it. She’d had enough. Time to teach them who truly held the power here.