Cadeyrn
The world splinters around me and hot white light bathes my skin. It feels like it’s blistering whilst simultaneously drenching me in an icy cold, and I shudder at the incomprehensible feeling.
“Oh, shit!” I hear my brother, Cadfael, shout, but the sound is distant; it’s like he’s suddenly far away even though just moments ago we were standing side by side.
And then I’m spinning.
My body twists in ways I couldn’t have imagined, contorting and shifting like I’m one of the gelatinous creatures of the deep. I’m nowhere. But I’m alive. Somehow.
Darkness replaces the light and I land heavily on my feet, the hard ground beneath me cracking at the force of my descent.
Blinking in a daze, I try to gain my bearings. My vision is blurry, but I can roughly make out giant mountains around me. Strange mountains. They shoot up from the ground in straight lines. I blink furiously because what I’m seeing doesn’t make sense.
Turning slowly, I wince slightly as shooting pains lance through my body. I feel like I’ve been torn to pieces and sewn back together. They say time pendants are the tool of some daemon and after this trip, I’m inclined to believe them.
Of course, they also say orcs are the spawn of a daemon and that’s a pile of steaming shit. I’m no more hellish than other two-legged beings, and I’d go as far as to say there are humans far more disposed to evil actions.
Seconds tick by and eventually my vision starts to clear. I look down to see what appears to be a type of road. It’s black, like coal, but hardened, like rock. Strange. I look around wildly as more of my vision returns. Cadfael is nowhere to be seen. Perhaps the pendant only allowed travel for one. I only know a little about the strange magic contained within them and there is much I would know if I could.
A sharp sound, like a blaring war horn, brings me out of my reverie and I look up to see twin suns bearing down on me.
“What the-?”
Pain slices through me as the suns seem to shift position to my left and I am knocked to the ground. A garbled shout leaves my lips and I clasp at my left side. I have been wounded by…by a…carriage? I think it is a carriage. The silver rectangle has come to a stop several orc-lengths from me. It is a carriage, yet it is horseless and growls like a beast.
“What in all fuckery is that?” I growl, angrily.
The carriage door opens, and a figure steps out, stalking over to me.
“What the hell were you doing in the middle of the damn road this late at night, twat face? You drunk, loaded or suicidal?”
It’s a female. She stands with her legs apart, her hands on her hips. I’ve never been accosted by a woman, and certainly not with so much assertiveness in her voice.
“You do realise there is no street lighting here? I could have killed you, man. You’re lucky I saw you when I did or you’d be roadkill. Did I get you?”
Some of her words are confusing, but I get that she is asking after my health when her tone turns almost hesitant, concern softening her harsh words.
“I shall be fine, wench, it is nothing but a bruising I hanker.”
“Wench?” she sputters. “Who the fuck are you calling wench, mate? Listen, I…” Her voice trails off as she steps closer and her eyes widen. “You…” Her lips part as she gazes down at me, her expression one of disbelief. “You’re an orc,” she breathes, her words soft and reverent.
“Correct, wench,” I grunt, holding my side where the silver horseless carriage glanced off me. It hurts like all hell and I’m wondering if it is only bruising or if I’ve suffered some kind of internal injury. That would be bad.
“An orc,” she repeats, her eyes lighting up with fire. “Where did you come from? Who are you? What are you doing here?”
I cock my head at her intrigue. She doesn’t look frightened in the slightest, which is…odd and unexpected. In fact, she looks positively thrilled to see me. Perhaps in this land, human women have come around to the notion of mating with orcs?
Eyeing up her strange, black garbs that cover her from neck to wrists to ankles, I asses her. She looks pleasant enough, though it is hard to tell with her body concealed in such a strange manner. Even her teats are covered, unlike the wenches of Alban. Her hair has been scraped back from her face and secured, showing off decent bone structure and wide, expressive eyes that look far too quick and intelligent for my liking.
But a woman is a woman, and once I’ve healed, I’ll be happy to plough this filly. Maybe I’ll even return home with her. She would make a fine trophy from my travels.
I scan her body once more and notice the way it bulges in certain areas. She is curvy beneath her strange get-up then. I lean toward her and inhale deeply.
And she smells like…like nothing I’ve ever encountered before.
I blink in surprise as my cock hardens with the scent of this female.
She smells delicious. Enticing. Mouthwatering.
Yes, I would happily return with this female as my prize.
And since she isn’t running away screaming, she can direct me around the strange time and place I’ve been transported to.
“I am Cadeyrn of The Brotherhood of Nine,” I growl out. “I would have you take me to an inn, wench. Once I’ve healed a little, I’ll happily take your maidenhead and return with you to my homeland. You’ll make a fine mate and I promise you a good life.”
There is silence and I cannot tell if she is slow or hard of hearing because her expression is unfathomable.
And then she laughs.
She laughs.
“Alright, bud, I’m gonna need you to calm the fuck down because no part of you is going anywhere inside any part of me, you get me?” she says, her tongue as sharp as her eyes as they inspect me. “And there will be no mating. We definitely need to discuss the ‘cave-man’ attitude. And it’s not ‘wench’, I happen to have a name.”
I blink in surprise at her feisty nature but a grin spreads across my face. I like this female. A lot. She has fire and I’ve always been one for the flames no matter how they blister and burn me. Breaking the wildest mare is always more satisfying than riding one already broken.
“So, let me ask again, where did you come from, big boy?”
“I hail from Alban. Where have I landed, wench?”
She rolls her eyes.
“It’s Sloane,” she says, huffing out a breath as if pained, her eyes briefly closing in frustration as if I am a naughty bychan. “Not that you even asked. And if I’m going to save you, you’re gonna need to show a little more respect. You got that buddy?”
Save me? I puzzle over her words. Why would I need saving? And how would a weak human woman do such a thing? My expression must give away my confusion, because she exhales deeply again and squats before me. It puts us at eye level and I find myself distracted by her face.
She doesn’t just smell good. Up close and personal, she’s got a handsome face with a proud nose and defiant chin - but it’s her eyes that capture me. They look like twin walnuts, ripe and rich, and they’re framed by long, thick lashes that curl seductively. I’ve never seen eyelashes like them and they fascinate me.
“Alright, quick history lesson - um, how do I put this delicately?” She frowns, her eyebrows almost meeting as they pinch together. “You’re in Great Britain and orcs are extinct.”
My heart stutters in my chest.
She cannot be truthful.
Orcs…extinct?
My species gone?
“What…how?” I manage to croak. To my horror, a growing heat that feels like it’s going to consume me begins to flare in my chest. An unwanted feeling is bubbling inside and I slam a fist against my breastbone to keep it where it has spawned. Now is not the time for emotion.
“We don’t really have the time for me to get into the bloody history of how the Romans came and slaughtered all your people for being demons and then renamed this island and remade it in their own image. Maybe later I’ll give you the full rundown. For now, can you walk?”
My head is swimming with the information she has dumped on me. My people are gone, extinct. I am alone. Which means…
“Exactly when am I?”
She considers my question.
“When? Oh, you absolute fucking moron, did you play with a time pendant? Well, that explains how an orc came to be in the here and now, I guess. I kind of wondered if you’d been frozen, you know? But just another dumbass messing with magic.”
I find myself blushing furiously at her disdain which is enough of an answer.
“Seriously? No wonder you’re all ‘me, orc, you, hole to fill’,” she says with disgust. “What year of Alban are you from?”
“I am of the second age.”
Her look becomes pitying. “You’re a couple of thousand years out of time, big boy.”
My choked gasp doesn’t stop her from talking.
“So you’re gonna want to listen and listen good, sweetheart, because you’ve landed in a seriously hostile time among people that will kill you first and ask questions later. Got it?”
“You’re asking questions now,” I hasten to point out.
She grins. “And that makes you one lucky fucker you found me and not a gangbanger with an itchy trigger finger.” She glances down at her wrist which is adorned with a wrap of leather that appears to hold a shiny dial. “Shit, time’s up, buttercup. We better get moving if we want to keep you on the down low. Can you walk?”
“Of course,” I grunt, pushing myself to my feet, a shout leaving my lips at the pain that radiates from my side. “What did your horseless carriage do to me?”
Her lips twitch. “It’s a car, big boy.” She steps towards me and reaches for my side. When I jerk back she clucks her tongue. “Let me look at you.”
I nod stiffly.
And then she puts her hands on me and all the breath leaves my lungs.
Her small hands gently lift my tunic, rolling it up until my stomach is bared to her eyes. Her movements aren’t sexual in the slightest. She runs her fingertips over the skin on my injured side, perfunctory and assessing.
But my cock doesn’t care that she’s just checking me for damage and I can feel it firming up, pushing against my trousers.
This female does things to me without even trying.
It’s…distracting. Bewitching. Perhaps she is a witch. I’ve never met one. My eyes follow her gaze and I see that my grey skin is mottling with a bruise.
“You’re bruising quickly, but I don’t think it even broke your ribs. In fact, you probably left more of a dent in it than it did in you. More’s the pity, because I needed that baby in mint condition. But no matter, we’ll have to leave it and find alternative transport.”
She drops my tunic back into place and steps back.
Her statement surprises me. “You would leave it here, unmanned? What about bandits? And where is your driver and guard, woman?” For the first time, I realise how unprotected she is and I want to shout at her father for allowing her out of the house without an escort. What must the men of this time be thinking?
“God, you’re cute,” she breathes, shaking her head at me. “Listen, I drive myself because I’m a big girl. And don’t you worry about bandits,” she says, patting my arm, “mostly because, well, technically, this isn’t my car.”
“Isn’t yours?” I frown.
“No, and the real owners will be looking for it so we better move, you good?”
I clutch at my injured side and nod until her words catch up with my brain.
“Wait, real owners? You stole this carri-uh, car?”
Her eyelashes flutter as she gazes up at me.
“Not exactly. I was merely borrowing it. For the foreseeable future. With no intention of returning it in its present condition.”
I stare at her, open mouthed.
“You’re a bandit. A thief.”
Her smile flashes widely. “I’m a procurer of objects,” she states, as if those fancy words change what she is.
I close my lips and offer a grunt at her assertion, and she pouts.
“Listen, right now, I’m the best chance you’ve got, big guy. Now, are you ready to follow me and do as you’re told or do you want to argue some more over my life choices?”
I’m not a fan of the little nickname she uses. I dislike her superiority over me, the way she orders me around, and the fact that she’s a criminal of the lowest order. And despite what my cock thinks, she’s far too feisty and bold for a woman.
But she’s right. She’s my best chance in this strange world.
So I nod and grunt, “Lead the way.”
