followed everyone, clacking hollowed sticks in time with
their footsteps. The processional halted and Rahsik-ba
spoke.
“The tribunal is met. Let the accusers step forward
to meet the accused,” he intoned the customary words in
the guttural orc language.
Two orc warriors, dressed in wolf pelts and hung
with small, skeletal ornaments, dragged him to his feet,
unlocked his chains, and pulled him from the alcove. He
could see the tears well up in his mother’s eyes, though she
remained silent as they dropped in place a moth-eaten
moose hide that hung over the alcove’s entrance. He could
not help but feel a knot of revulsion for her weakness,
though some small shame knotted his guts at that.
“Let the first two witnesses step forward to bear
out his guilt,” Rahsik-ba demanded, and the clacking
abruptly stopped.
Wank recognized the two surviving guards from
the worg attacks. They looked sheepishly at one another,
unaccustomed to such overt scrutiny as they were now
receiving. For several minutes they stammered around
their story: Wank had tried to sneak into the pens, for
whatever reason, and had let one of the beasts escape.
“That is not what happened!” Wank shouted, and
was summarily tossed to the ground, bashing two new
contusions on his knees just as a whip snapped from
Rahsik’s gnarly hand to gouge a fresh welt in his ribs.
57