Salt Storm: The Salted Series: Episodes #31-35 by Galvin, Aaron (read 50 shades of grey .TXT) 📕

yanked into darkness, their demise shielded by the noise and wave of seeming prisoners and their captors emptying onto the platform.

Breathe, Len, he urged himself to do, his body stiff, his gaze a constant swivel with the notion their ruse would end and more Orcs would come sweeping in for war. Just breathe.

From the corner of his eyes, Lenny caught sight of further movement from the rear of the train – Henry Boucher led a mixed group of Lepers and Selkie brutes to sneak off the platform, hiding and fanning out among the shadows and stalactites nearby the train platform’s end.

Again, Lenny wondered after the plan he and the others had concocted during the ride into Bouvetøya. With the platform Orcs either taken or killed, he fought the urge to begin the next phase of their plan; calling for Henry and the other Selkies to spread out and create havoc throughout the cavern while they had the opportunity to move unnoticed. His gut twisted with every passing second of waiting for more Orcs to come, his mind wondering how many there would be, or if Lenny and his fellow Selkies could truly take on the remaining soldiers and win.

To divert his mind, Lenny focused on the torches blazing further in and throughout the cavernous area. As best as he could tell from his vantage point, the Orc soldiers had packed the Selkie cages further inside the cavern to standing room only. The front lines of the trapped Selkie slaves had been pushed against the iron cars of their shared cages, their haggard faces pressed against the gaps in between iron bars, glowing with frost. Of the captives, Lenny didn’t know whether to feel sorry for the frostbite already darkening the prisoners’ cheeks, or whether they were thankful for the air. At least those against the bars can breathe, he thought, wondering how the prisoners in the middle of the cage fared since all were packed so tightly together.

Lenny redoubled his efforts to gain a better hold on his blades when catching sight of emaciated women and children among those inside the frost-covered cages. Who are all these? Lenny wondered, not remembering having witnessed any women and children prisoners from the first time he had been brought to Bouvetøya. Why would the Merrow king have Selkie women and children sent down here?

A combination of horror and fury rose within him at the moans and cracking of whips echoing further inside the cavern from hidden places that he could not see. His mind racing with the idea of the things being done further in, Lenny’s resolve for the Dolan family mantra to not leave anyone behind strengthened in his mind for each passing second.

Then came the marching of heavier boots from further inside the cavern.

In answer to those approaching, Brutus’s voice carried to all those like him and Lenny, playing at prisoners and their captors upon the platform. “Steady lads . . . wait till they’re lured in first.”

Lenny clung to the memories of his father’s voice too as a beastly Orc commander marched at the head of several soldier columns, all headed toward the train platform. Patience, Len . . . patience, son . . .

The Orc commander stopped some twenty yards away from the platform. With a nod, his soldiers obeyed a wordless command, each fanning out like a picket-line along the train platform to keep any already upon it from leaving. Safely positioned behind his wall of Orcs, the commander surveyed those upon the platform, his gaze settling on Brutus. “Right. Who are you, then?” he asked.

“Oh, just another loyal soldier in his majesty’s service, sir.” Brutus fired back. “You’re running this place, then, I take it? Commander Pohl, your soldier said?”

“Indeed,” said the Orc leader. “And I would prefer to have your name as well. Also, the truth as to the meaning of this . . . unscheduled and surprise shipment from the south?”

“Brutus is my name, sir,” he answered honestly. “And the Warden Zane in Røyrkval sent us, Commander. Gave orders we was to vacate these poor Selkies from the City of Song, so he did.”

Commander Pohl’s brow furrowed. “Vacate, you say? Zane was just sent down not two weeks ago to clean up the disorderly operation there and procure a lost item for the king. If he’s succeeded at both already, why then would he order this rabble sent here and not deal with the Selkies accordingly?”

He knows. Lenny clamped down on his daggers. This guy knows we’re lying, Brutus.

“Deal with them, sir?” Brutus asked the Orc leader.

Commander Pohl drew his sword. “Aye,” he said. “I would have thought Warden Zane’s directives were quite clear, soldier, especially as he and I discussed in private how best to expedite the king’s orders and meet the Blackfin’s likewise demands.”

Lenny startled at the immediate clanging of swords unsheathing, the Orcs all drawing their blades as one without any command given from their leader. Lenny’s throat parched when the Orcs formed ranks, creating a shield wall in preparation to advance. We have the high ground, Lenny’s throat parched, adrenaline racing at the escalation of unfolding events. And they still don’t care. He thought, judging the look in Commander Pohl’s steely gaze. They’re coming anyway . . .

Commander Pohl leered at Brutus and all the others standing with him. “I’ll ask you again, soldier,” he spat in the direction of Brutus. “Who are you really? And what is the meaning of this unscheduled southern shipment?”

Brutus unsheathed his blade also. “Gave you my name already, you dumb git. You might’ve heard of me in a time long past too . . . as for your Warden Zane and what we’re doing here? Well, we put ends to your beastly friends in Røyrkval with these swords here, so we did. Aye, same as we mean to do for you today, sir.” He pointed the tip of his blade at Commander Pohl. “You and all the filth like you.”

Commander Pohl smirked at that. “For