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

like your folks gave these Selkies here the same choice.” He glanced at the starving Selkie slaves who had been left to tend the dead. Then, he looked to Yusuf again. “Let’s give your prisoners the choice of what to do with you, then.”

Lenny tensed as Tom hauled Yusuf toward the conveyor belt and cast the Orc taskmaster stumbling on the floor in front of them. Where Lenny imagined he would see the starving Selkie slaves relish the thought of revenge and take it out in full, instead his gaze was met by hollowed looks not unlike the corpses the slave pairings carried to the conveyor belt.

Tom approached the slave closest to him, one that Lenny swore was a woman based on the slave’s size and frame. As he looked on the slave further, Lenny knew it for a man long-starved and hunched by unending hunger and laborious work.

The slave cowered in the looming Selkie’s shadow.

“It’s all right,” said Tom to the withered slave. “We’re not here to hurt you. You’re free now. We’ve taken over the cavern. We’re all Selkies here, like you.”

The slave dared to look up, his brow furrowed in disbelief at the giant Selkie dressed in the Orcish armor of the Painted Guard.

“We’re Selkies,” Tom reassured the slave. “What’s your name, friend?”

The hairs on the back of Lenny’s neck raised when the slave still refused to speak.

The unease had taken hold of Tom too, the crimson-haired giant looking to the other crematorium slaves as well. When none of them spoke up, Tom kicked at Yusuf. “Why aren’t they talking?” He nudged Yusuf further. “Hey! What did you do to them?”

Yusuf put his face to the floor, his body wracked with his sobbing. “It wasn’t me . . .” He wept. “Please, sir. I-I couldn’t stop them. They beat me too when I tried.”

“What are you talking about?” Tom demanded. “What did you Orcs do to these people?”

“It were Commander Pohl, sir,” said Yusuf. “And his captains. They gave orders to cut out these slaves’ tongues, so they couldn’t tell the others what was being done to the rest.”

Lenny’s eyes widened at the admission, his gaze flitting from each slave to the next as they looked on the fallen taskmaster. His thoughts turned to his own experiences with taskmasters back in Crayfish Cavern; of Oscar Collins, Tieran and others there who routinely sought out the weakest of slaves for wicked sport. Lenny reached into his hidden Selkie pocket, then. His fingers closing on the hilts of his daggers, he started toward the weeping Orc.

Tom Weaver beat him to the punch, delivering Yusuf a swift kick in the ribs along with a string of curses. Before he could land another, Tom was halted by the Selkie mute that he had questioned for a name.

With a light touch upon the arm, the waifish Selkie slave extinguished the fight.

Lenny stopped too when the Selkie slave knelt beside Yusuf and lay across the Orc’s body, shielding the fallen taskmaster as best as he could manage with his withered frame.

What’s he doing? Lenny wondered. He and Tom exchanged a confused look as the Selkie slave remained atop the Orc, shielding his captor whilst Yusuf whimpered beneath.

“Don’t know what you’re trying to say here, buddy,” Tom Weaver said to the slave. “But I’m guessing you don’t mean for me to kick him again. That about right?”

The slave looked up, his gaunt expression plain enough in confirmation.

He trying to tell us this Orc is one of the good guys? Lenny wondered. His grip relented from the hilts of his blades when the slave stood up and tapped Yusuf on the back to draw his attention.

The Orc sat up too, then, his eyes red-stained and wary of Tom Weaver.

“At ease, soldier,” said Tom, his lip curling. “If I was gonna hit you again, I’d have done it by now. What’s this Selkie friend of yours doing by stopping me from getting after you again? Hmm? If I’m to take it as you and this slave here being friendly, that is.”

“No,” said Yusuf, unable to meet the eye of the slave who had saved him. “Not friendly. I-I don’t even know his name.”

“No?” asked Tom. “Then, why’s he laying across you like he done?”

“I don’t know,” said Yusuf. “M-Maybe because I . . . I tried to stop Commander Pohl and the others from doing what they did. Or that I slipped these Selkies some bread when I could manage . . .”

The slave looked to Tom and nodded in silent confirmation.

“So, he’s telling the truth, then?” Tom asked the slave to further nodded replies. The Selkie giant frowned as he refocused on Yusuf. “So, what exactly is going on down here, Orc? Other than the obvious slaughter, what’s all this about? Why are you killing all of these Selkies?”

“Not me,” said Yusuf. “Never me, sir. And I-I don’t know for certain why the others did. Just rumors that I’ve heard.”

“Like what?”

“Some say King Darius has gone mad . . . that the Blackfin sits at his right hand, whispering all manner of things in the king’s ears. There are rumors beyond counting that come out of the capital with every shipment sent down.”

“Every Selkie shipment, you mean,” Tom clarified. “People, Orc. They’re not things.”

Yusuf nodded.

“How often?” Lenny piped up. “How often does the train come down here delivering Selkies?”

Yusuf’s face reddened. “Every day . . .” he said quietly.

“And the train cars?” Lenny asked, his fists clenching once more. “How many Selkies on board?”

Yusuf did not answer at first. Not until the slave began to scoot away, opening a line for Tom Weaver to attack the Orc taskmaster again.

“How many?” Lenny repeated the question, his thoughts turning to each and every bundle of Selkie skins he had seen packed and stacked together on wooden pallets outside the crematorium.

“I don’t know,” Yusuf muttered under his breath. “Commander Pohl told us to stop trying to count them months ago. Said it was time better spent taking them