After a moment, her eyebrows raised and a smile appeared on her lips around the thick tusks as she handed him his ax but kept the spices.
He would regret making the trade but he didn't have the time to haggle. It was all he had to offer and he doubted they would take the trap he had found either. Orcs would have little need for it.
"Now?" she asked.
Skharr nodded. "There is no time like the present."
"What…will do?" the chieftain asked and still struggled with the common tongue.
"Do you mean when I find Samor and his merry band of pox-spawned idiots?"
She nodded.
"I will kill them. Every last one. Some will have to die quickly, I suppose, but Samor will likely be at the back of the line, away from the fighting. I'll kill him slowly."
"How?"
That was a good question and one he had considered during his walk through the swamp. "There is a practice in the north among humans called drawing and quartering that might serve. But perhaps I'll squeeze his throat until he has no strength left and gut him with a dagger. I might cut his manhood off as well."
"Manhood?"
"His cock and balls."
She grunted.
"Done right, he'll be alive for the whole process as I pull his guts out and put them on a fire in front of him. It won't take him long to die after that but he'll know what his entrails smell like being cooked over an open flame before he goes to whatever hell he has waiting for him."
The orc laughed and nodded in approval, and as others translated what he said to those who didn't understand the common tongue, a few mutters and laughs followed.
Skharr didn't know if it meant they approved or merely thought it a funny way to kill someone. Either way, it was irrelevant to the matter at hand.
The chieftain continued to chuckle as they approached the beach where all the ships were kept. They had been dragged out of the water to rest on the black sand and he soon located the small dingy he'd come in on. He paused while a handful of the orcs piled in a few extra supplies of dried fish and sea salt for the journey, which he took as a good sign.
The barbarian put his belongings aboard first and, with a little help, pushed the boat to the water. He climbed in smoothly and took hold of the oars.
"Gods…watch you," the chieftain said from the beach as he began to row out into the murky water. Without any mist, it was easy to keep his little vessel from running afoul of the rocks all around the island even at night, and it wasn't long before he reached the open water that was still calm even with the unnatural fog gone.
That probably wouldn’t last but this time, at least, he wouldn’t have to worry about Brahgen spewing his guts over the side again.
Thinking about the dwarf was not a good idea and his mood darkened as a touch of wind caught his sail and pushed him to the mainland. At least he no longer needed to row.
Chapter Fifteen
Whatever the goddess had done to him wasn't the kind of thing that faded in a hurry. The sun had begun to come up as Skharr approached the mainland again and continued up the river. Day turned to night and then day again and he still felt like he was relatively well-rested and alert. Even so, it was something he knew would make its demands eventually but for the moment, he could appreciate both the winds from the coast that drove him upstream as well as being able to stay awake for the duration.
Although he was a little sore and tender in places when he steered the dinghy to the docks, he still felt ready to put in a day's worth of travel heading south.
He didn't like the fact that he had to leave behind a boat that he'd had to pay for twice but the situation made it unavoidable. Hopefully, he would be able to return and sell it for a fair price but for the moment, hunting Brahgen and killing his captors took precedence.
Given how long he’d been drugged for, he doubted that he even had time to collect on the reward for the contract, but there was no way to tell how long he had to accomplish his purpose. Ahverna had described Tacham as a port city to the south but he knew better. It was an alcove that pirates had taken a liking to, the kind of location that was a little too difficult for the empire to reach and control.
It would happen eventually, but for the moment, it was barely worthy of the title of a city. The reality was that the original fishing village had become engorged with folk with ill-gotten gains who came and stayed to spend what they'd stolen until they had none left. It was the kind of cycle that led to folk engaging in crime and returning for the vices available in the town until they died or ran out of coin.
As long as he kept his wits about him, it was the kind of place a barbarian tended to do well in.
Skharr marched immediately to the stables where he'd left Horse and Jenny and paused when he arrived and noticed that the stable was half as full as when he had left them.
The stallion was there, although he showed no sign of being particularly happy to see him. But Jenny was gone. He turned and strode to where the innkeeper was still seated in front of the lake. The man puffed calmly at his pipe until he cast a massive shadow over him.
"Oh. You've returned."
The barbarian chose to believe that the man's surprise was not because he knew he had gone to fight in a damned dungeon. Without pause, he caught him by the shoulders and lifted him roughly off his comfortable seat so they were more or less at the same height, although the innkeeper's feet dangled almost a full foot from the ground.
"The donkey," he stated calmly. "Where did she go?"
"I haven't—"
He clamped his free hand on the man's mouth before another word could be said. "Allow me to interrupt what I'm sure was a very creative story about how the damned donkey disappeared. I will tell you what I think happened and you'll correct me if I'm wrong. A group of eleven men came through, asked for directions for me and a dwarf, and took the donkey. They paid you a great deal to be silent on the matter. You believed I would not survive long enough to come and reclaim the beasts and let her go. How close is my tale to the truth?"
His hand was still over the man's mouth, which meant he could only nod and whimper pitifully.
Godsbedammed fucking blood-leeching thieves were all over the place these days.
"The coin I paid you to care for the animals. Where is it?"
The innkeeper looked reflexively toward his purse and Skharr snatched it before he dropped the man on the wooden boardwalk. It was suspiciously heavier than an innkeeper's should have been, and he took the two silvers he'd paid so both animals would be stabled and fed before he tossed the purse to him.
"If you try anything like this again, I'll be sure the guild knows that you sell what isn't yours to the folk who are killing your patrons. I'm sure they'll be happy to learn of it."
The man's terrified gaze followed him to where Horse had wandered calmly out of the open doors and was browsing a few patches of grass near the stables.
"I suppose I should count my lucky stars that they didn't take you," the barbarian muttered and patted the stallion on the neck before he began to put the saddle on his back, followed quickly by his supplies.
Horse snorted loudly.
"Oh. And you didn't go along with them." Skharr tilted his head. "I am touched although we both know you only did it with self-interest firmly in your mind. You know I'm the only one who pampers you with apples and time spent at a pleasant farm."