With the coming of morning Gnak repeated his routine of the previous day, preparing Jen her food and drink after lashing her to a tree. But this day, it was his turn first to rest. Laying upon the ground, refusing to remove his armor, he turned to face Jen. He watched as she laid down too, giving him one quick grin before she curled up in a ball and closed her eyes. His eyes never closed. He did not dare go to sleep. If he did they would kill her, or him, or both. Of that he was certain. Instead, he kept one blade out of his belt and in his hand as he lay there for half of the day just watching her sleep, the girl who had opened his eyes to reality.
When midday did come, it was again time for Korx to rest. Today the Orc seemed more his normal prideful and cocky self. He was mentally preparing himself for Catunga, Gnak could tell. Korx moved in a way filled with pride in himself. His every action said he was not afraid. He even laid down and went to sleep, showing those with him that he was not afraid of them. Not that it mattered. Gnak could not kill Burl without waking the slumbering Orc, nor could he free Jen without killing Burl. Still an impossible situation.
It was only an hour or two before nightfall when Burl rose, and thrusting his head towards the trees behind them, he motioned to say he was going to relieve himself. It was the only opportunity they would get. Waiting for Burl to disappear from sight, he quickly and quietly untied Jen and shook her awake.
“You go now. Run. Hide. I find you.”
She nodded to him, a determined look on her tiny face, before she darted off into the trees back the way they had come the previous night. He watched her go until she too vanished, and began to prepare the scene by hiding her retreating tracks with tracks of his own. Taking his blade to his forehead he sliced it several times in a crisscrossing pattern, letting the blood pour down his face. Cuts upon the head always bled out of proportion to the wound. Then, picking up a large rock, he pressed it into the newly formed wound, coating one side with blood. Setting it upon the ground a few feet away, he laid down, closing his eyes, and waited.
More than a quarter hour passed, and Gnak thanked the heavens for every passing second, but as he knew they would, his passing seconds ran out. Returning to camp, Burl sounded the alarm with a yell, stirring Korx who arose to inspect the scene. Taking a sharp kick to the back, Gnak feigned stirring groggily, grasping at his head with squinty eyes as he rose.
“Where tiny human?” Korx demanded.
“Not know,” Gnak replied, looking this way and that, continuing his role.
“How human go?” Korx demanded again, as Burl simply stood watching the exchange.
“Not know,” Gnak repeated, then decided his answer was not enough. He needed to buy more time. “Used magic, throw rock,” he added.
They both stared at him a long moment before Korx took action, bending low where the girl had been. He peered all over the ground, his head snapping back up, his face only inches away from Gnak’s.
“No trail. Tracks gone. Magic too?” Korx questioned, his tone seething.
“Tracks gone. Human gone. Need new sacrifice,” Gnak replied.
Korx wasn’t buying it and Gnak knew it. He watched as his rival walked around their little camp, eyeing the ground, searching for a clue. It was only a matter of time before he found her fleeing tracks. Instead of giving him a chance, Gnak had another plan. He followed Korx’s lead and made a show of looking for tracks himself. He was sure to beat Korx back to the trail, and when he did he pointed to the ground and turned to his peers.
“Human no go easy. I go get. Bring back. You go camp.”
Without waiting for a reply he grabbed the pair of bags and his helmet, and ran from the camp, leaning low as if to watch the trail. Gnak sprinted ahead, knowing that Jen would not be far. She was so small that even sprinting she might have gone two or three miles in the time since she left. Even so, he watched as her trail passed beneath him, in case she veered off the course they had taken the previous night. One mile and then two passed beneath his feet and still he ran on. Their plan had worked, she was free, and he was free to take her home.
Knowing he had to be right on her tail he veered around a hill, his eyes on the ground as a blood-curdling scream caused his head to jerk up. Not fifty yards ahead stood Korx, holding the screaming form of Jen by the hair in one hand, his blackened iron blade pressed to her throat.
“Look, find me!” Korx shouted as Gnak grew nearer.
“Give her,” Gnak demanded.
“Is mine. Is sacrifice,” Korx replied.
Gnak watched as Jen struggled, her screams tearing at him as she grasped for her attacker’s hand, trying to take the weight off of her hair. Tears streamed from her eyes, and there was nothing he could do. If he moved to attack she would be dead in an instant.
“You have troll. Troll is sacrifice.”
“Troll dead. This one better.”
That was it, there was nothing he could do. Both he and Korx had gambled and Korx had won. If he let Korx win, at least Jen would survive a few more days. Those days might give him a chance to free her. But he could not return home without a sacrifice. To make it to the end of Catunga, Korx would have to prove Jen’s magic, but Gnak knew he could torture it out of her, proving her worth. In order to be his equal at the end of the ceremony he would have to bring an equal sacrifice. His options were limited. Watch Jen die now, or delay and hope for a chance to save her in the days to come. He would not let her die.
With shoulders sagging, he looked into Korx’s eyes for a long time showing the other that he would not be dealt with so easily. Then, without a word, he turned and stalked off to the south. He needed a plan.