The Andor: Book One of the Legends of Tirmar by Mark Dame

Author:Mark Dame [Dame, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781946298218
Publisher: FutureLine Press
Published: 2017-11-11T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

"Why you here, pink-skin?"

Flyn winced as the orc hit him with the whip again.

The orcs had chained them up and left them for several hours before returning to take Randell for questioning. When they brought him back, he was bruised and bleeding, barely conscious. Flyn was next.

“I said why you here?” Another whack with the whip.

They had taken him into the courtyard, ripped off his tunic, and put him in one of the stocks. The orc with the whip cracked it on his back every time the other orc asked a question. The pain was unlike anything he had ever felt before. Streaks of fire crisscrossed his back.

“You here to rescue the mole-girl?” Crack.

While they had been questioning Randell, Sigrid had told him what to expect. She said they would beat him until he gave them answers or passed out. They would show no mercy. Knowing that hadn’t made it any easier.

“Why you want her? She even uglier than you.”

He didn’t want to tell them anything, but the pain was becoming unbearable. He just wanted it to stop.

“You puny even for a pink-skin. That why you want mole-girl? She more your size?”

The next strike of the whip caused Flyn to cry out. He couldn’t help himself. The pain was too much. He let his head drop.

“Stop. Please.” He had lost his will to fight. “I’ll tell you what you want.”

The orcs laughed. The one with the whip gave him another crack.

“I’m looking for my friend,” Flyn cried out. “No more, please.”

“What your friend’s name? Maybe I see him.” The orcs howled with laughter. “Your friend belong to Lord Jarot and now you do too.”

The orc grabbed Flyn’s hair and pulled his head up.

“Now, puny maggot, how many more pink-skins running around Gurnborg?”

“None,” Flyn said, trying to shake his head. “It was just four of us.”

“You lie to me, you get the poker.” The orc pointed to a metal rod sticking out of a nearby furnace. The coals inside the furnace were glowing red. “How many pink-skins hiding outside the gates?”

Flyn shook his head again. “No more. Just us.”

Another orc walked into the courtyard. This one wore a black sash with a red skull insignia across his chest. The orc questioning Flyn turned to the newcomer and saluted.

“Have you learned anything from the new prisoners, Garguk?” the new orc said.

“He said he here looking for his friend,” Garguk snarled. “He claim just four of them here. Other ones not talk yet.”

“Good. Ugglar wants to see that one,” the new orc said, pointing at Flyn.

“Yes, Captain.” He turned to the orc with the whip. “You heard Captain, get him out.”

After releasing Flyn from the stocks, the orcs shackled his wrists to a chain and led him away from the courtyard.

The fog had lifted, allowing Flyn to get his first good look at the garrison. Most of the buildings were long wooden structures, similar to the buildings they had investigated earlier. In the middle, however, a larger building looked over the entire complex.

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