In anticipation of the launch party, each day I will be posting an excerpt from my new book. The main character is Kyler and most of the book is from his POV, however, there are other chapters from the POV's of his friend Darcy, his Aunt Martha, and Walter the Wolf. Today we Aunt Martha. If you missed the previous two, Kyler and Darcy, just scroll down to previous posts.
Name: Martha Birkwood
Age: She's not telling.
Occupation: Farmer and Herbalist
Skills: Magic, herbs and potions
Weapon: Fire Blasts
Friends: Walter and Ernie
Meanwhile, on a bumpy old road, Aunt Martha bounced up and down in a rickety wagon. Her captors had bound her hand and foot, and to prevent her from speaking any spells, a piece of cloth cut deeply into her mouth. An Orc looked down at her, its drool hanging from the corners of its mouth like slime.
“Master will be happy with me.” An evil grin spread across its face. “Maybe I get to keep human as pet?”
The rotten cabbage–like odor of the Orc’s breath buffeted Martha, and she squirmed away from the foul creature, but after only inches, her back hit hard wood. The Orc howled in laughter, pointing at her bound form.
“You funny. Remind me of pig I eat for dinner last night.”
Martha knew she was in trouble, and for the first time in her life she had no idea what to do. Walter was not with her, and she could only hope he had escaped the attack. She felt wetness on her cheeks as tears fell.
She rolled over onto her back and looked up into the blue sky. The crude wooden slats sent splinters into her exposed skin, poking like mini toothpicks. With the Orc again focusing ahead, Martha struggled to twist her hands out of the ropes. Soon she felt rope burns cut into her skin, and her flesh became slick with blood. The Orc began sniffing the air, noticing the metallic twang, and Martha stopped her painful attempts.
Alone in the wagon, unable to see much, Martha had to use her other senses to figure out what was happening around her. She could hear the grunts of many Orcs around and in front of the wagon, and guessed they were marching toward their goal. As the day moved on, the sun began to grow too hot. She had nowhere to go and nothing to cover herself with. As the sun baked her skin, she consigned herself to the discomfort.
Without warning, the surrounding Orcs raised their voices, and Martha heard the thumps of their footsteps as they began to run. The Orc driving her wagon whipped the horses, and soon she was bouncing across the land like a sack of potatoes.
Somewhere up ahead she heard screams of agony and smelled burning wood.