AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Filled with broth, I can think even more clearly. It is becoming obvious that we are not with the other orcs. We are alone, this strange orcress and I. But why are we separated from the others? Why am I not a prisoner or dead? Did the orcress desert the Horde and if so, why?
Pulling away from the cup, I stare directly into the orcress’ eyes. They are a bright green, and glint like gemstones in her face, which is more delicate than other orcs I have seen. One of her parents must have been an elf or a nymph. “Why am I here?” I demand, holding her eyes with mine. “What do you want with me?”
“You are here because I brought you here. I took you from the thick of battle and saved you with my magic. As to what I want . . .” The orcress, Dura, grimaces. After what seems like forever, she finally continues, “It appears you are myAsh’ka.”
The word is unfamiliar to me. “Ash’ka? What is that?”
She bites the top of her lip, a hint of fang showing as she does. The warm light illuminates her deep green skin and high cheekbones. She stands still as a statue, assessing me with her emerald gaze before finally answering me.
“It’s elvish. It means you are my mate. My soulmate.”
What?What?
Chapter 4
Dura
The captain seems more lucid this time compared to his previous waking moments. For the past month I have healed him more every day, talked him through his hallucinations and fevers and held him down when the coughing fits wracked his body, only leaving for maybe an hour a day to hunt meat and forage for herbs. He has talked to me before, ranted and threatened as well, but today . . . he appears actually awake.
I put down the now-empty cup and reach to touch him again so that I may scan him, checking for fevers or lingering infection, but he recoils from my fingers, disbelief and suspicion in his brown eyes.
“What does that mean?” he asks, his voice hard. “That I am your mate?”
I sigh a little. It would appear myAsh’kais stupid. Lucky me.
“It means what it sounds like,” I respond, and push my hand forward to him anyway, touching his bare chest, despite his obvious objection. I close my eyes and scan. No fever. No infection. The natural healing of his body reaches out to me with a strong, healthy response, greeting my magic and eager to be guided in fixing his body. The healing is still tentative in his lung, the tissue there delicate, but it is holding. If he stays in bed, maybe another week, he will be able to move around.
None of this I tell him, however. He is still weak and obviously sees me as an enemy. I suppose we still are. I know I do not trust this man I have saved, even if Fate has chosen him for me. There is too much I don’t know about him. Now that he is healing, I suppose I will have to sleep lightly to take care that I don’t wake up with him stabbing me with my own knives. He is human, after all. He has no way of feeling the Recognition. To him I am merely theorcress that defeated him in battle and helped kill his sister.
A sudden feeling of grief threatens to overwhelm me. In the last month I have had much time to myself, to think and regret. I am a deserter, a warrior who has lost her honor. I will never see my people again. Never laugh with my cousin or drink with my comrades. And for what? A fated mate that has every reason to hate me, even as my every instinct is tuned to him.
Proving my point, the man in front of me narrows his eyes. “So, you saved me because you think I am supposed to be your soulmate?”
I nod. “That is the gist of it, yes.” I pull my hand back, rocking back on the balls of my feet, but don’t stand. I regard him, meeting his hard gaze with a guarded one of my own. After all this time I can finally talk to him, get to know him, figure outwhy him, but I find I can barely think of what to say.
So instead I ask, “What is your name, soldier?”
His face becomes wary. “If we have talked before, don’t you already know it?”
I shake my head. “Your fevered ramblings were full of questions and accusations. You were never lucid enough to answer questions of your own.”
The captain takes this in, his expression considering. I can tell he is weighing his options, deciding if it would be more advantageous to withhold or offer the information I seek. After a moment, he says, “I am Sir Marvik Grimble, Captain of the Blue Guard, Guardian of the First Citadel, personal knight to King Yorian of Adrik. What is your rank and position?”
Ah, he wants an exchange of information, nothing given for free, even though I have answered all his questions honestly so far. This conversation is already making me tired and my heart heavy. “I have no rank,” I tell him, “no position. And you are not the personal knight of anyone. Your king is almost certainly dead.” I have no way of knowing this for sure, it’s true. I left before the end of the battle, but I saw which way it was headed and Rognar saidthat he would take the king’s head before marching on the Adrikian Capital.
That considering look goes over the human, Marvik’s, face again. He closes his eyes as if in deep concentration and then says, “You are right. He’s gone now.”
What does that mean? How does he know the fate of his king, but not his sister? I want to ask, but we are far from the level of trust I sense would be necessary for him to answer me.
Marvik’s eyes open again and he levels his stare at me. “I know you are lying about your rank. I saw you enter with the orc king. Not just any member of the Horde would be right next to their ruler.”
I am a little affronted. My voice is steel when I reply, “I amnotlying. I am a deserter now. Any rank or position I had is gone.” Along with my dreams, I inwardly lament.
“But you had a position before you deserted,” he insists.
I twist my lips. Finally I answer, “I was General of the Southern Horde and Keeper of the King.”
“Keeper of the King?”
