AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I cannot say, but I don’t have time to think. I reach the fence line, just as some of my orcs appear, shovels, hoes, and other tools in hand. One hands me a digging implement and we begin our race against time. The fire is headed this way, tearing through the wheat and headed to the next field.
I don’t know how much time passes. The sky is dark by the time we finish, but the fire break works. The trench stops the fire from spreading and the mages pull at the wind, making it lose fuel. It grows smaller, more manageable. The blankets and water can finally do their work. The flames are finally out when the moon is high in the sky, but it is a success. Only one field was lost, the farmhouse and surrounding area protected by the efforts of my orcs.
I turn to the older mage who breathes heavily, obviously tired out by his efforts. “Your plan worked,” I say. “My thanks . . .” I realize I don’t know his name.
“Hoggins, my lord,” the mage supplies, getting my meaning. “My name is Hoggins. I am the Royal Mage, and head of the Mage’s Tower. And this is Heinrich, the mage you assigned to Kingsbury. I am pleased we could help these people. And without your orcs, it would have been much worse. My plan wouldn’t have worked without your efforts.”
I grunt in reply, acknowledging his words, but too tired to keep conversing. My lungs burn with smoke inhalation and my muscles protest my movement. I walk over and reach down to retrieve my cloak, which is completely ruined. With it in my hands, I trudge back to the caravan.
More than one human comes forward to thank me as Iwalk, their eyes shining out from soot-stained faces. I know I must not look any better and I yearn to bathe, but our camp is not set up and we must do more work before my orcs and I can rest.
I am surprised, however, when returning to the caravan to see our tents are already raised. The humans we brought with us from the capital are setting them up and cooking enormous pots of stew. They are filling the bowls of many who are lined up to eat.
I catch one human bustling about and ask. “What is all this? How are the tents up?”
The human looks startled to be addressed, but answers, “It was Regent Santir. When she saw the fields were taken care of, she ordered the rest of us to prepare for your return. She said that you would all need respite when you were done and that the rest of the town could use feeding.”
Pellia. At the mere mention of her, my Mating Instinct raises its head again, desperate to find her. As I look around the camp, I am reminded that Lucy never did anything like this for me. She never seemed to care about my wants or needs. My comfort.
Because Pellia is not Lucy, my traitorous brain whispers.She’s never been anything like her.
Banishing my yearning thoughts, I make my way to my tent. I brace myself before entering, expecting a flirtatious human to greet me, but the tent is empty, with the lumen crystals lit and a tub of hot water in the center of the room.
Again, the consideration of Pellia touches me, though I do not want to be softened toward her. My heart is dangerously soft toward her already. Fortifying myself against the gesture, I take a quick bath, eyes constantly glancing toward the tent flaps, waiting for the little human to appear. Do I want her to walk in on me bathing, like she did those scant days ago?No, of course not, I chide myself, all the while knowing that I am lying.
I finish my bath and no Pellia. I dress and still no Pellia. Finally, I poke my head out of the tent and see that the bustleof the camp has quieted, my orcs already sleeping or going on watch now that their bellies are full.
I see my second-in-command Friza walking to her watch post, and signal her to come over. She lightly jogs toward me and says, “Warchief?”
“Where is the human regent?”
Friza grins at the question. “That little morsel? Why do you want to know?”
“Just tell me, Friza,” I command irritably. My Mating Instinct paces in my chest, not liking that Pellia is somewhere out of my reach.
“She bedded down a while ago with the human servants. She said that you would be tired, and that she didn’t want to disturb you.”
She’s sleeping somewhere else? Oh, my Mating Instinct doesn’t like that at all. A growl escapes my chest and Friza’s eyes open wide.
“I knew it! You’re doing more than pretending to fuck the human. She’s your—”
“She’s nothing,” I lie, my eyes narrowing. I surreptitiously sniff the wind, but I can’t smell Pellia at all. She’ll have drunkorikirileaf tea in the mornings like an orc, so her scent is muted, only strong emotions discernable. I know that is her habit, one that the queen taught her. I feel the impulse to go tearing through the camp to go find her and bring her back to where she belongs, but I stop myself.
Where she belongs?I’m the one that has pushed her away. For all her excuses that she told others, I know why she is avoiding my bed. There is no one at fault but me. And that is the way things have to be.
“You are dismissed, Friza,” I snap.
“Am I?” she says mildly, not moving or leaving to go to her post.
“I don’t want to discuss this any further. Especially not right outside my fucking tent.”
“Then invite me in, Warchief,” Friza returns. “For thoughyou do not want to discuss it, discuss it we shall.”
As my second-in-command, Friza has a lot more latitude in addressing me than anyone else in my clan. Her expression is calm but serious, her body language immovable. If I try to leave this conversation, she’ll follow me anyway.
“Fine” I grimace irritably. “Come in, then.”
Friza follows me into the tent, the flap closing behind her. We are alone in the tent, but Pellia’s scent buzzes around us, an echo of her once-presence here.
