popping and crackling at our feet. Mahk stared into the flames, his expression grave. Duma shook his head occasionally, lost in some private thought.
Brag’s jaw clenched, his temple popping with each grind of his teeth. His eyes burned with rage, staring at the open chest next to the fire.
Inside lay my savings, a meagre prize for a horde of orcs, but better than leaving empty-handed. I motioned to it again, my hands still tied. “It’s yours.”
Duma shook his head. “Ain’t right. It ain’t right.”
“I’m offering it to you. You didn’t harm anyone.”
“Not that,” Duma grunted. “Your old girl. Throwin’ you out like that. It
ain’t right.”
I laughed dryly. “I told you, I’m worthless to her unless I’m a virgin.” “But you still are!” Mahk joined in. “We didn’t take you—”
He stared at my tear-sta
