Chapter 28 From Dawn Until Dusk

The orc barked orders at me, his voice booming.

 "You will look after the field and tend to the crops. Pull the weeds, water the plants, and make sure everything grows well."

He gave a short explanation of what I needed to do, then pressed his giant finger against my chest.

 "Listen well, runt. If I catch you plucking and eating any of the crops, you'll regret it dearly. Eat the weeds if you are hungry. But do not even entertain the thought of touching the crops. Got it?"

I nodded weakly, too terrified to speak. The orc loomed over me for a moment longer, his eyes filled with contempt before he turned and walked away.

I lay on the ground for a moment, gathering my strength. The field was vast, stretching out before me like a never-ending sea of green. I forced myself to stand and began my work, pulling weeds and tending to the crops with trembling hands.

The time dragged on, each minute feeling like hours. My body screamed in protest, every movement a reminder of the beatings I had endured. My stomach growled with hunger, but I dared not touch any of the crops. I stuffed myself with the weeds but they did not give me any nourishment only a false feeling of fullness, making my grumbling belly stop begging for morsel. The orc's warning echoed in my mind, and I knew that any attempt to eat the food would result in even more pain.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, I worked tirelessly, worrying for Kaka. He was still in the shed, barely clinging to life. I hoped that Grub and his friends could help him while I was gone, but there was no way to know for sure.

As I toiled away in the crop field, I noticed a commotion at the gates. A large group of goblins, armed and ready to move out, gathered at the main entrance of the breeding farm. Among them, I spotted Slasher, his face twisted in a cruel grin.

Curiosity gnawed at me, so I limped over to another goblin slave working a bit further away. He seemed deeply engrossed in his work, his body tense with fear. I approached cautiously, not wanting to startle him.

"Hi, gobbie friend," I said softly. 

"I'm Hermit. I'm new here. Can I ask you what's going on by the gates? Do you know anything?"

The goblin slave convulsed in fright at my approach but quickly calmed down when he saw I was just another slave. With a shaky sigh, he introduced himself.

"Oh, little friend, you scared me there for a bit. Name's Grill," he said, glancing nervously around.

 "I think they're going for a hunt. The master goblin is planning a feast, and the guards and warriors are heading out to hunt some beasts. One of the elite master’s guards, the tall orc, will be leading the group."

Grill looked around anxiously, then added, "But little friend, we should get back to work. No more chatting, or we’ll get whipped."

I thanked him for the information and returned to my task, my mind racing. The sight of Slasher among the hunting party filled me with hope. If the guard was leaving, it might give us a brief reprieve from the constant terror he inflicted.

Hours passed, and I kept my head down, focusing on the monotonous tasks to distract myself from the overwhelming fear and hopelessness. Occasionally, I glanced toward the gates, watching the hunting party prepare. The tall orc, towering over the goblins, barked orders, his voice booming across the field.

Finally, the hunting party moved out, leaving the breeding farm quieter than usual. I allowed myself a small sigh of relief. With the most dangerous overseers gone, even for a short time, there might be a sliver of hope for some respite.

But that hope was fleeting. The promise of a feast meant that the remaining guards would be on edge, eager to please the master goblin. We slaves would need to be more careful than ever. Any mistake, any perceived slight, could result in brutal punishment.

The day wore on, the sun beating down on me mercilessly but I welcomed the warmth it radiated. Because of the beatings and injuries my vision blurred, and my head spun with dizziness, but I forced myself to keep going. The thought of Kaka kept me moving and gave me a reason to endure the torment.

When the orc finally returned to check on my progress, he seemed satisfied with my work. 

"Hmmm, not bad, keep this up," he grunted, "and you might just fit in."

He left me to continue my labor, and I pushed through the pain, determined to do whatever it took to keep Kaka and myself alive.

As the sun began to set, the orc returned and led me back to the shed. My legs barely carried me, each step a battle. When we reached the shed, I stumbled inside and collapsed beside Kaka, my body screaming in agony.

Kaka's breathing was still shallow and labored, but he was alive. I wrapped my arms around him, offering what little warmth and comfort I could.

"Thank the forest spirits. Kaka, you alive," I whispered, my voice hoarse with exhaustion.

 "Hold on Kaka, there is hope, there is. Slasher gone for a while, less beatings, more healing. We have a chance. Just hold on, hold... on..." With my words trailing off I fell asleep.

The night was another cold one, but the tiny spark of hope that Grub and his friends had given us and Slasher gone for a while kept me going. As long as we had even the smallest chance of survival, I would fight for Kaka and myself with every ounce of strength I had left.

The following days were a blur of pain and exhaustion. The orc and his goblins worked me to the bone, forcing me to toil in the fields from dawn until dusk and through the night I dug the tunnels to make a new breeding chamber. My hands were blistered and bleeding, and my body ached with every movement, but I pushed through the agony, driven by the knowledge that Kaka was depending on me.

The few days since Slasher left for the hunt had been grueling, but I managed to recover a tiny bit, despite working to the brink of collapse every day. As I took a closer look around the breeding farm, I began to notice significant differences between this place and the one I had come from.

The goblin slaves here were a sorry sight, scared and bruised, but they looked much better than those in my previous farm. Their wounds were less severe, and they had more energy. The entire farm was better constructed: the clay and wood walls were sturdy, and the sheds we lived in were far superior to the shabby walls and run-down tents we used to inhabit.

What surprised me most was the access to food and water. On our previous farm, we were constantly starving, but here, we had occasional chances to get food and water. There was even a small pond used to water the crops, and I managed to sneak a few mouthfuls of water when I went to collect it. This simple act of quenching my thirst felt like a luxury.

The guards, too, were different. They didn't go out of their way to beat us up out of boredom. Instead, they were always occupied - constantly marching along the walls, cleaning their crude weapons, or carrying out other tasks. This constant activity kept them from targeting us as much as I had feared.

A few days passed, I worked tirelessly, and my body pushed to its limits. But each night, I returned to the shed, bringing what little food I could scavenge, and caring for Kaka as best as I could. Kaka’s resilience astounded me. Slowly, his wounds began to heal. The stump of his torn-off hand started to show signs of regrowth, and the tiny skins of his cut-off ears began to sprout anew from his head. Though he remained weak, his strength gradually returned, a glimmer of hope in our bleak existence. I whispered words of encouragement to him each night, praying that he could hold on just a little longer.

“Kaka, you’re getting better. I can see it. We just need to hold on a bit longer, okay?”

But time was not on our side. With each passing day, the dread of the hunting party’s return loomed larger. Slasher’s absence was a reprieve, and I knew he would soon be back, bringing with him fresh waves of torment and suffering. The thought of what he might do when he returned filled me with a terror so profound it was hard to breathe.

Morning came too quickly, and the orc guards were as merciless as ever. I stumbled to the fields, my body screaming in protest with every step. My fellow slaves avoided eye contact, their faces etched with the same despair and exhaustion that I felt. The sun beat down, and the hours dragged on.

As I toiled, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the hunting party’s return was imminent. I kept glancing toward the gates, expecting at any moment to see the ominous figures of the goblin warriors and their cruel leader. My heart pounded with anxiety, and every shadow seemed to hold a threat.

Then, late in the afternoon, the sound of horns blaring from the gates shattered the oppressive silence. The hunting party had returned. I felt a chill run down my spine as I saw the familiar figure of the tall orc leading the procession, with Slasher strutting behind him, a triumphant smirk on his face.