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“So tell us, General,” Verrick says, “did you kill the human captain as you vowed?”
A low chuckle goes through the crowd at his question. It is obvious she did not.
“No,” myAsh’karesponds, her voice firm. “No, I did not.”
Verrick turns away, looking at the king on his throne. “My King, though it pains me, as an orc that long has held your cousin in deepest respect, it is clear what must happen here. Not only did General Dura not fulfill her Oath and kill the human standing before us, but she deserted with him, mated him and Claimed him. This is an insult to the Horde which is not to be borne.”
A ripple of agreement goes through the crowd. My eyes find Adalind’s, but she just stares back at me.Thisis her plan? This will not end well for us. Then she gestures her hand to me, subtly, a sign to “go on.”
Right, the story isn’t over yet. And I think I may be able to shift things to our advantage. My father’s devious lessons on court politics come back to me; how to craft a story in your favor. If this works, I may owe something to my father’s memory after all.
“But, Warchief Verrick,” I interject into the murmuring crowd, silencing them, “we have not yet heard the entire story.”
I turn back to Dura. “General Dura, proceed. Tell us what happened next.”
Dura frowns and I can feel her confusion. She doesn’t know where I’m going with this yet. But, through the bond, I feel her trust in me. She begins again. “I went to the stairs, and we fought. It was a mighty battle, neither of us giving much ground. You are very skilled, my mate.”
I smile a little at that. “Thank you. You as well. I have never fought your equal.”
Dura gives me a small answering smile. She continues with her story. “We fought all the way to the top of the wall. I cannot say how long we fought, but my king and his Axe and Shield had already broken through the black tower’s door by the time we finished.”
“And how did we finish our battle?” I ask. “Did you ask me to run away with you and we both dropped our arms and left together?” This is obviously what some people think happened or they wouldn’t keep bringing up that we “ran away together.”
Dura shakes her head. “Our battle ended when I won and stabbed my knife into your chest.”
Some of the ladies of the court gasp. A pin dropping would be heard in the room. People were not expecting that.
“So,” I say, prodding her further, “you killed me.”
“What?” Dura asks, completely confused. “No, I didn't. You are here, before me.”
“When youstabbedme,” I insist, emphasizing the word, “was I going to survive? Would my body have healed naturally?”
Dura is still confused. “No, you were bleeding internally and your body’s natural healing stopped responding.”
“Did my heart ever stop during the aftermath?” I’m just guessing at this point, but I remember how I felt when I lost consciousness after her blow. I knew that I would die.
She hesitates. “A few times. But I restarted it with my healing.”
“Then, I would argue,” I say, neatly lining up my words, “thatyoudidkill me. I was as good as dead when our duel ended.”
“Human double-speak,” growls Verrick. “You are not dead, so she did not kill you. That is simple logic.”
“No,” I argue back, “she killed me. I was dying. My heart stopped. It was only through magical intervention that I was brought back. She fulfilled her Oath.”
Dura and Verrick both look at me like I’ve grown another head, but I can feel the tide in the room turning. Some of the whispers are in our favor now. I just need to press our advantage.
“Fine,” grinds out Verrick, “if we are to believe this human definition of dying then, you may have your point. But that still does not explain the desertion afterward or why she healed you in the first place.”
“General Dura,” I say, “please resume your tale. Why did you change your mind and bring me back to life?”
“The Recognition,” she answers readily, “I felt it as I looked into your eyes as you lay dying. I knew you were myAsh’ka.”
“So you said in the courtyard,” scoffs Verrick. “You are an orcress, General, not an elf. You cannot have experienced the Recognition. Maybe the Mating Instinct, at most.”
I ignore him for the time being. “For those that do not know elf culture,” I prod looking directly at Dura, “explain the Recognition.”
“It is a knowing, a certainty, a changing of the soul,” she explains. “It is a message from Fate itself that you have found yourAsh’ka, your soulmate. You only ever have one, and if they die, you are bound to be alone forever.”
