Sentinelspire - Mark Sehestedt [19]
The half-orc twisted harder, tough nails breaking through Berun's sleeve and piercing skin. Bones in his wrist scraped together, then Sauk wrenched, bringing the entire arm around behind Berun's back.
Sauk planted one foot in the middle of Berun's back and said, "You draw steel on me and I'll tear your arm off. Understood?"
Berun poured the rest of his strength into a final attempt to pull his arm free.
Straightening the leg planted on Berun's back, Sauk pulled the arm tighter. Though he tried to hold it in, tried to clench his jaws shut, a scream escaped Berun.
"Understand now?" said Sauk.
The tension in the arm loosened. Not enough that he could move it, but just enough that Berun no longer felt as if muscles were tearing.
"Don't think he heard you." That was Val's voice. Berun couldn't turn his head enough to see, but he felt someone yank his knife out of the sheath.
Sauk let the arm go and put his full weight into the foot on Berun's back. His ribs creaked and he could only take shallow breaths.
"Just remember," said the half-orc, "you brought this on. If you'd behaved yourself, you and the boy would be sitting round the fire sharing some soup. Now-"
Shouts of men out in the woods. Berun could hear them. But beyond that, he heard the deep thunder of the tiger's roar, more shouting from the men, and then screaming. A boy screaming.
"Lewan!" gasped Berun, and he tried to push himself up. It was like pushing against a mountain root.
"You just stay down," said Sauk. "Taaki isn't going to kill the boy. But she will catch him, and she's not nearly as gentle as my men."
"Let"-Berun could barely take in enough air to speak -"boy-go."
"No," said Sauk.
"Why?" He wanted to ask, What is he to you? He isn't involved. Let him go and I'll come along, do whatever you say, and a dozen other things, but he couldn't find the breath to form any words.
"Right now? 'Cause you caused me a lot of trouble. Put my men to a lot of trouble. And you tried to hit me with your bow." Sauk stepped away, turned his head, and spat. "That wasn't nice, Kheil."
Sweet air filled Berun's lungs, and he rolled over onto his back. Breath was coming easier now, but his gut still hurt-a little higher with that first punch, and Berun knew he'd be holding broken ribs right now-and his arm felt like splinters were tumbling through his veins. Sauk stood a few paces away, arms across his chest. What he'd done with Erael'len, Berun couldn't see. Val stood beside the half-orc, Berun's bow and quiver cradled in his arms, the knife in one hand, and the insolent smile on his face. Gerrell stood behind them, spear in one hand, looking as if he didn't quite know what to do.
"Berun," said Berun.
"Berun," said Sauk. "Kheil. Leaf-lovin' blight-beater, I don't care what you call yourself. Keep this up and Berun might join Kheil, and they can bicker over who is who in the afterlife. But to finish my answer-even if I weren't annoyed with you, I'd still keep the boy. It'll give you incentive to behave yourself. I have nothing against the boy. But understand, I've got no love for him either. You play nice-no more flyin' lizards in anyone's face, no more trying to slap me with your twig-tosser-and you and the boy can go your way once our business is done. You try any more of this nonsense, and I'll let Taaki have her way with little Lewan. Might even make you watch."
Berun stayed on the ground. He didn't want another boot on him just then, but he looked up and glared at the half-orc. "Dukhal."
Berun had never been fluent in the language of Sauk's orc tribe, but he knew enough to give a good curse. Dukhal. A bastard whelp. A vile enough insult to any orc, but for Sauk it held a particular barb. He was the son of the clan's chief and a human slave. His mother had died before Sauk could walk, and he'd spent his childhood competing for-and never winning-his father's affection and respect among the chieftain's legitimate sons.
Sauk's eyes went cold and hard. "There you go hurting my feelings again,"