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I don’t know what to say. Idoknow that Dura went about that all wrong. What was she thinking? It’s almost like shewantsto be banished.
But I have to start talking. “Dura’s desertion was not from cowardice or lack of loyalty, but because of Fate itself. She experienced the Recognition, don’t you understand? We . . .”
“Then youareher mate?” the king asks, interrupting me.
I freeze. I . . . I think I am. I want to be. Ineedto be. With the king's question, it all comes rushing to me. I love her. Iloveher. Her stubbornness, her graceful, deadly nature, her kind yet sharp eyes. While our initial meeting was, perhaps, unconventional at best, I understand her decision. She saved me, gave me a second life, and gave me freedom at the risk of her own. I know we have started the courting process, but now I feel like I can't wait that long. But, we are not bound together in the ways of the elves or the orcs, and I think this is what the orc king is asking. However, I plan to remedy that as soon as possible.
“I am,” I boldly lie. But is it truly a lie, if it is what I feel in my heart? I don’t need a bite to tell me that I belong with Dura.
The king looks unimpressed and unconvinced. He stares me down, as if trying to read my character through looks alone. I don’t know what he sees, but he finally says, “If you are her mate, you may join her in her cell. I do not have the time to sort this out right now. Apparently, we are under attack and that must take my attention.”
I want to argue, but I know that he is right. The Barakrini attack must take precedence. There will be time for defense later.
“Marvik,” says Adalind, coming up to my side, “don’t do this.”
“I’m sorry, Addie,” I tell her, before turning back to the king. “I am Dura ka Woreki’s mate and will not be parted from her. If that means that I must go to her cell, so be it. Whatever judgment she must suffer, I will too.”
The orc king looks at me, a little more respect in his eyes, then orders, “Guard, escort Sir Marvik to General Dura’s cell. They will stay there together until the sentencing.”
An orc comes to my side, going to grab my arm, but I pull away. “That won’t be necessary. I am coming of my own free will.”
The orc guard looks to his king, who gives a nod. The guard’s hand goes down to his side and I walk with him through the crowd toward the dungeons. I hear murmurs as I pass, the gossipers of court already starting their tales of scandal. That I, Sir Marvik, the most honorable and stoic knight of the realm, have suddenly come back from the dead and am apparently mated to an orcress deserter is something that could feed the rumor mill for weeks, if not months. But I have never cared about rumors and ignore the speculative gazes and petty whispers as I enter the castle.
My orc escort and I head down to the dungeons. I have rarely been in this wing of the castle, but am not unfamiliar with it. It is dark and damp, lit only by thin windows in the cells, each less than a hand-span wide. Small lumen crystals are embedded into the wallsto give more light, but it is still a gloomy, forbidding place. The orc confers with a human at the entrance to the dungeon, the prison master, before taking me further into the dark, to a wooden cell door. Through the grate in the top of it, I can see Dura, already sitting on the cot inside the cell. My escort opens the door and I walk in readily. Dura looks up at me with alarm.
“What are you doing in here?”
The door closes behind me before I can respond, the lock clicking into place. Dura looks behind me and shouts, “You can’t just leave him in here! Guard? Guard!”
Her shouts are ignored as the orc just leaves. Dura looks up at me, fire in her eyes. “What have you done? You shouldn’t be here!”
“Neither should you, but here we are,” I retort. I look around the cell. Though dark and damp, it is clean and well-looked after. The straw on the floor is new, and there’s no evidence of rodents. The cot that Dura is sitting on has a serviceable-looking blanket and pillow. A second cot on the opposite wall is similarly equipped. This is to be our home for the next several days. It could be worse. I sigh and sit on the other cot, but Dura gets up and looms over me.
“Thisis whereIbelong, Marvik,” she insists, still agitated. “Ideserted.You, on the other hand, should be with your sister, enjoying a welcome home.Thatis whereyoubelong!”
“Why are you being so self-sacrificing all of a sudden?” I ask, genuinely baffled. “Just a few days ago, you were content to live the rest of your days as a hermit in the woods.Wewere content with that. You were building a smokehouse for all the gods’ sakes. What changed?”
“I remembered my honor,” she seethes at me. “Duty found me again and reminded me that I am not a hermit in the woods, nor am I one to play mates with a man that doesn’t truly want me. I am a shieldmaiden of Orik and running from consequences is not what I was made for.”
She thinks that I do not want her? How can she think that? I open my mouth to respond when I hear a familiar, crystalline voice.
“Well, this is all very interesting.”
I stand, turning back to the door. Adalind stands behind the grate, as shockingly beautiful as always. I have never been attracted to my sister, my feelings for her strictly platonic, but even I am not immune to the fierce majesty of her fairy blessing. It’s like standing in front of a wonder of the world or the stunning vista at the top of a mountain. The primary emotion is awe, like I imagine it would be before something divine. But even with her full, unshrouded beauty aimed at me, I do not miss the warring emotions on Adalind’s face. There’s relief and happiness, like I saw in the courtyard when she ran to embrace me, but also an emotion that normally she’d try to hide: a deep, deep anger.
“So, you were alive in the woods all this time,” she states, her voice breaking on the last syllable. I know she is glad to see me, but in her words there is also plain accusation, as apparent as if she had lifted her finger and pointed at me.
“Addie . . .” I begin.
“No! Don’t ‘Addie’ me! I mourned you, Marvik! I wept over you. Countless nights I would wake and remember you were gone and my grief was like it never ebbed! We sent scouts into the Deep Wood, searching for your bodies so we could burn you, but they came up empty and so I mourned again! But now you stand before me as hale and hearty as you please.Where were you?”
I am at a loss. “I . . . I thought you would be better off without me, after I heard of your marriage. After I heard everything my family tried to do to you. I thought I would just remind you of my parents and their abuses. I . . .”
Adalind looks stunned, then angry again, interrupting me. “Well, you were wrong! I have never seen your parents’ cruelties in you, Marvik. Until now, if you truly left me to think that you were dead on purpose.”
“It wasn’t his fault, My Queen . . .” starts Dura, but she is swiftly stopped by a glaring Adalind, who turns the whole brunt of her fairy beauty and anger on my lover.
“Oh, I’ll get to you. Both of you! Desertion, dereliction of duty! We thought you had killed each other, but really you ran off together? Howcouldyou? Whathappenedto you?”
