Salt Storm: The Salted Series: Episodes #31-35 by Galvin, Aaron (top 5 books to read TXT) 📗

Painted Guard helmet he wore. Brutus, along with Tom Weaver and several others of the largest Selkies, had taken on the Orc armor to wear for their own. Their identities and Selkie suits hidden by black metal plate, the brutish guard of Selkies kept naked blades in hand as they surrounded Lenny and the others, the entire train-car full of Selkies all playing out the roles assigned to them.

Beneath them all, the frost-covered floor shuddered as the train car eased into the slow stop that had begun a couple miles out. A rampant hiss came from somewhere outside the train car, with shouted voices and scattered movement alongside as the train came to a full stop. In the darkness around him, Lenny heard clinking chains as others gathered their courage to face whatever came for the Selkies next.

Patience, son. Lenny imagined his father preaching to calm his nerves. Patience.

Outside the train car, the clumping of heavy boots atop frozen boards approached the train car to unlock the catch keeping all the Selkies inside.

Lenny’s vision narrowed and focused on what little firelight filtered through the wooden slats. He counted several large and shadowed figures, each of them bearing torches to light the way for the one freeing open the door.

The lock removed, the latch lifted, Lenny winced as the heavy door slid open on its hinges.

Beyond, the wall of taller folk impeded his vision, yet Lenny estimated that it was Brutus to lead the group of supposed Painted Guard soldiers out of their car. The moment the train car door began to open, Brutus shouldered out in front to gain access to the platform and to keep the real Orc guards there from shutting the Selkies back inside the train-car once more.

Brutus shouted all the while, waving Lenny and the others to come out with their seeming Orc captors. “All right, move out with you, Selkie scum! Come on, then. Haven’t got all day, have we?”

Vasili started forward with Tom Weaver as his supposed captor.

Lenny tensed when another Selkie brute’s grip tightened on his arm to lead out onto the platform and join the others. Keeping his head down as he imagined any wise prisoner would, Lenny was at least able to peek beyond the lip of his Selkie hood and glimpse a little of what lay ahead as he marched out of the train car. His pulse thundered against his chest at finding his Selkie group outnumbered the Orcs who awaited upon the platform.

“Oi! Hold up!” One of the real Orcs was saying to Brutus. “What’s this, then? What are these Selkies doing here? Who are you?”

“Who am I?” Brutus growled back, then rapped the Orc with his armored fist. “I’m the one who’ll clap you and your friends in chains, boy, the same as I did for these Selkie fools here if you and yours don’t fall in line and clear this filth off my hands. Now, get these other doors opened up and all these prisoners out on my block for counting!”

The Orc guard rubbed the side of his head, but would not relent his position. “Your block?” he argued with Brutus. “What are you on about? You’re not from here. What’s your name?”

Brutus back-handed him hard enough to send the Orc reeling and then falling to a knee. “Speak to an officer like that, will you, boy? Our Lord Blackfin would have had your head for that. Say nothing of impeding my duties and keeping to his schedule!”

Lenny’s fingers closed around the hilts of his hidden daggers, waiting for the real Orcs to unsheathe their blades and the attack to begin.

Staggering to his feet again, the Orc guard muttered an apology at the conviction Brutus bellowed with. The other, true Orc soldiers followed suit, all backing away from Tom Weaver and the Selkie brutes whose identities remained shielded by the Painted Guard armor.

Brutus moved out in front of the Selkie pretenders, then pointed up the train’s length and shouted at the true Orc soldiers. “Now, I want all these cars opened up, you lot! Bring all the Selkie scum out where I can see them and start them counting off, see? And don’t you lot harm a one of them either! The Blackfin has special plans for these here. He’ll want his counts matched when we’ve landed too!”

“Beg pardon, sir,” said the Orc who had been back-handed. “But we’ve nowhere to put these prisoners, let alone the rest you got tucked away inside. We weren’t expecting no shipments from the South, sir. We’ve been full-up to bursting for weeks already with those the capital keeps sending down for us to manage.”

“Well, you best make room, haven’t you, boy?” Brutus shouted back. “Get on with it, soldier!”

“We can’t, sir,” the Orc blustered. “Honest. Commander Pohl would—”

Brutus swung and then raised the tip of his sword to point an inch away from the Orc guard’s eyes. “Run along back to him then, boy. Fetch your precious commander and bring him here to answer for this sordid mess.” He waved his sword away, then wheeled on the others. “The rest of you move along and get my Selkies out here! Double-time, now! Any of you ruins a single one of my slaves and it’ll be your hides I come for next! The Blackfin asked for these prisoners special, he did. Now, move! Move!”

His palms sweatier by the second, Lenny’s grip slipped upon his hidden blades as the Orcs obeyed, fanning out along the platform to open up the other train cars down the line. One by one, the doors were opened. For each car opened, Lenny saw most of the Orc soldiers freeing the doors were quickly taken unawares by the awaiting Selkies within. Most of the Orcs were brought down quietly and dragged into the accompanying train cars. A few, however, were struck down, their cries for help and attempts to warn the other Orcs dying as swiftly as their Selkie assassins put an end to them. All were