I'm carried inside the tent, and I see the bedroll on the ground, hanging human skulls, a small table with a few chairs, and a pole in the center with an oil candle to light the place.
The leader throws jugs and wooden plates on the ground with his arm and points at it, the orcs carrying me push me on top of it, holding me still as I try to break free from their grasp. As I struggle and growl at them I hear the leader shout something and Ismeina appears, holding a white bowl on her hands that she hands to him.
I shake my head furiously and look again, of course, it isn't her, it is another human woman who looks similar at a distance, dressed in clothes a little torn, but warm enough to spare her from the cold. The leader snatches the bowl and drinks its content before throwing it away, the woman quickly rushing to pick it up, along with everything he threw from the table.
He approaches me, a grin on his face as he begins to speak, he seems proud of what he has, he points at his men and then at himself, they shout something in return and laugh together. Then they let me go.
I immediately stand on the table, my body low, looking back to see the pair standing in front of the exit and a few curious goblins peeking at what's happening inside. He snaps his fingers in front of my face and I return my full attention to him.
The woman returns and hands him a bag, my bag. He smiles as he opens it and whistles looking at the delicious food I stole, he takes out a piece of cheese and eats it whole, throwing my bag to his men who each quickly take out something before throwing it behind them, the goblins snatching it and carrying it somewhere after the leader tells them a few words.
He begins to speak again, taking pointing outside, beyond the camp we are at, and then at his men once more, both of them nod in response. Finally, he points at me, a triumphant grin on his face as he says a few more words and crosses both arms in front of him.
He must be very proud of his speech, whatever it was.
"I don't understand you" I finally speak, and for a moment I'm amazed by my own voice, it had been so long since I spoke, and I grew used to the silence of the woods.
His smile gone, he looks at me confused, then at his men who seem either as confused or shocked, but none more than the woman, who looks at me with her dark green eyes in what I can only describe as a mixture of disbelief, and maybe horror.
"Impossible" she whispers with a soft, trembling voice.
The leader then focuses on the girl, scratching his chin for a bit as his mind works on something, he then snaps his fingers as if he just go the answer, he speaks to the orcs and one of them leaves. I hear shouting from outside.
Soon, Fogosh enters the tent, with a bloodied cloth around his face thanks to the wound I gave him, and as soon as our eyes meet he spits on the ground near me, baring his teeth as I bare mine.
He and the leader engage in a discussion, whatever he demands causing great annoyance on Fogosh, who moans in displeasure and even seems to refuse what he asks, this is short-lived as one silent stare from the muscular orc is all the persuasion he needs before nodding his head and leave the tent, glancing at me with hate. The three orcs seem to enjoy themselves.
Then, the orc that left returns, with an iron shackle, and before I can try to flee the leader himself pushes me onto the table, choking me with such strength I fear for a moment that he will snap my neck any moment. But lets me go once the shackles have been placed on my hands.
He then exchanges a few words with his men before they carry me once again. The last thing I see of the leader is how he approaches the woman, in one movement lowering the upper part of her garments, exposing her breasts as she looks away, her lip trembling, and then the tent is closed by the orcs carrying me out.
For a while I'm held prisoner by the two orcs, the sun finishes rising and I'm carried to a small tent they seem to have erected just recently, inside awaits Fogosh, sitting on a stool as he drinks from his waterskin, eyeing me with hate while the orcs sit on the middle of the tent and secure my shackles on a small iron chain.
And then, I'm left alone in the tent with Fogosh.
I can hear the movement of the orcs outside the tent, walking around, apparently training with their weapons. Some laugh and shout, and others speak with each other, but inside this tent, there is only silence, and tension as the goblin who would have killed me sits next to me.
He then lets out a defeated sigh and stands up, wincing a bit as he places a hand on his stomach, the wound still fresh and I can't help but smirk. He doesn't like this.
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Not wasting a second he kicks me in the face, wincing more as the wound gives him great pain, I look at him dead in the eye with a fury I had not felt in a long time, and I spit what little blood he has managed to draw from that kick.
He pulls out his sword from its scabbard and I ready myself to fight however I can, but he hesitates, and after mumbling something beneath his breath, he sheathes his blade, drags the stool in front of me, and sits again.
After some more seconds of hateful stares and silence, he begins to speak, I had not noticed before but his voice is almost squeaky, with a little bit of a nasal touch. I notice how most of the goblins I've seen, even if few, have a similar way of speaking.
He stops talking and looks at me, then speaks again with long, bit-by-bit words. Only then the familiarity of it makes me remember it was the same with Ismeina when I meet her, he was trying to teach me to understand him.
The day would go on like that, Fogosh attempting to make me understand him and while I enjoy learning, there was nothing I could gain from understanding what a bunch of beasts said. In the same way, knowing what a wolf says when it growls won't stop it from tearing you apart.
He tries to shout, kick and punch, and at one point he even threatens me with his blade, but by then I understand what is going on. By orders of his leader, he is to teach me their language, and even if reluctant, he doesn't want to disappoint him.
So after hours of leaving and returning to try again, he leaves as the sun is setting. And I'm left alone inside the dark tent.
I must have been very tired, for even with my hands behind my back and sitting on the cold dirt, I fall asleep.
There I dream, of times past, of the joy and tranquility that I so desperately wish for once more. Life with Ismeina never left my mind, even as I lived in the woods like little more than an animal and had grown used to it, it was always in my dreams that I returned to her.
Enjoying a quiet supper, as she taught me how to read and write.
It is a sound that awakes me, soft and quiet enough that would be imperceptible for most, but when you sleep in the wild even a leaf falling nearby can sound like thunder. I jump to my feet in an instant and stare at the culprit.
It is the woman of the leader, she holds two buckets in one hand and has just recently entered the tent, with an oil lamp in the other hand. My sudden reaction she shrieks, throwing the buckets on the ground and throwing the water within them.
An orc then opens the tent next to her and she cowers from him, he looks at her and then at me, taking the lamp from her hands as she moves to a corner and walking around me, inspecting my shackles, he seems satisfied with giving them a shake and then returns to the entrance, handing her the lamp and picking up the buckets before leaving with a grunt.
I'm left alone with the woman, who takes a hand to her chest and tries to calm down. Her eyes betray her as she lays them on me, somehow she seems more frightened by me than the orc she just cowered from, and after a long silence, she speaks, her voice low and soft.
"Are you a demon?" A simple question, yet it is not made out of curiosity or fear, I wonder if what I feel is hope coming from it, either way, I shake my head.
"No"
"Oh..." she looks away for a moment, disappointed and with a weak smile on her face, not from joy, it seems pain "Of course you aren't" She walks closer to me until she is at an arm's length "but you understand me, you speak Akani"
I nod, her nervous expression and trembling lips do seem to calm a bit as she glances at my shackles. With a deep breath, she shuts her eyes close for a second before looking at my feet, she can't meet my eyes. A long silence endures until the tent opens again and she turns around nervously, rushing to the orc who holds the two buckets and whispers thank you as the orc grunts and leaves, sitting outside the tent.
She places the two buckets next to me and drags the stool close. There is hesitation in her eyes but it is fleeting as she sits down and takes a small wet cloth from one of the buckets. With a trembling hand, she reaches for me and my sudden jerk away from it makes her, in turn, startle and suppress yet another shriek.
The same orc pokes his head inside the tent and the woman frantically waves her hands in front of her, the orc scowls and leaves. Once again alone she picks up the cloth lets go of and takes another deep breath.
"I-I will clean your wounds and bathe you...you, understand right?"
Did I move because I was afraid she would hurt me? No, she doesn't seem like she could hurt a fly. It was another instinctive reaction of my body, and a part of me felt ashamed of it.
"Yes, go on"
"Right...here I go, then"
That night, with a trembling hand, she took care of my wounds. It was simply washing them and wrapping them with ragged cloths inside one of the buckets. I could smell something in the water that I recognized as weak healing herbs, barely better than just boiled water, but still an improvement.
Then, she carefully undressed, just how dirty was I? It took her to bring three full buckets to clean all the dirt from my body, and she was very thorough.
Even going as far as to clean my manhood, her gentle hands making it hard in an instant her eyes widened for a moment before she let out a tired sigh and continued cleaning. It was beyond embarrassing, but even if I wanted her to stop the moment she reached for it, the words had gotten stuck in my throat.
It was that part of me constantly begging to be set free, it was the touch of her hands, the smell of her skin, the little cleavage I could see when she leaned forward... it was that desire that didn't allow me to speak. And when she was done, I was left wanting more.
And I couldn't meet her eyes this time when she dressed me again. Ashamed that I allowed that part of me to take control in such a subtle manner, that in fact, I wanted it.
I only noticed she had taken the small envelope I stole from the dead guard when I saw her opening it and tasting it with the tip of her tongue. My still clouded mind thinking the most obscene things when I saw her do that didn't even register her question until she asked again.
"Do you have more of this? It is...a medicine that I need" I shook my head and she seemed disappointed.
"But...I can make more"
Her eyes widened to their fullest, not afraid anymore just utterly shocked. And then she put the envelope inside her cleavage, took the remaining two buckets, and left me taking the fire of the lamp with her and leaving a wildfire between my legs that stole my sleep for many more hours.