Page 105 of Wed to the Orc Captive

What was this? Poison? But Vrathgar’s eyes held something different. He nodded at me. I uncorked the vial, and shaky, I brought it to his lips.

He drank, gasped. He looked down, as color flushed back into his cheeks, as muscle knitted, flesh pulling back into place.

He wasn’t dying. He was alive. He was alive and…

He bowed his head. “Thank you,” he said. “I will…be a root.”

And then, the sound that gathered around us was a beating of fists on scabbards, the hollering of a chant, and I realized it was applause.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, and he caught me, fell back on the grass again. I was sobbing, my throat raw, everything in me spent. When he managed to get up, we were both shaky on our legs, and he winced as he laughed. Khal lunged to hug him, then Tyralk was there, and my husband twisted him under his arm to tousle his hair as he shouted some epithet.

Then Larrakh was barrelling in to hug us, to hug me, and Grezha, and where were the faces I’d always found coldness in? Why were there so many smiles? Even Drazha was smiling, just a little bit. And that was the child from the stream in someone’s arms, and another⁠—

Vrathgar folded me into his chest. “We’re home,” he whispered. “It’s going to be okay. We’re home.”

Then a voice called warning over the gathering, and his hold froze around me, the color draining from him.

And through the gathered crowd advanced the Gol Droth.

The one with human-like teeth on his necklace strode forward, a larger contingent behind him. I looked through their ranks, found Balnoc, the one from the cell. Found Sephar.

“Drazha.” Their leader opened his arms, the ornaments jingling ivory down his chest, over his stomach. “It seems I missed the commotion.”

Drazha stood rigid, her full height roughly to his collar bone. “We had it covered,” she said, icy.

He laughed, and his gaze slid to Vrathgar, next to me, his smile broadening. “I have come to claim something that is mine.”

“We have nothing that is yours, Grahnakh.” Her jaw was set, but there was fear in the air here. Fear, when there were only twenty of them, when we’d just defeated horrors? What was the danger? Why had Vrathgar gone so still next to me?

“Ah, no, but you see, you are harboring a fugitive. There is one among you who bared blades in the sanctuary of my people. One who threatened my nephew to his face.”

Murmurs spread, frightened. I looked up at Vrathgar, for some argument, some reassurance, but he was only still.

Drazha didn’t budge. “If one of ours has committed an offense, you can ask us for damages, but we will handle it in our own stones, in our own ways.”

“Ah, but the one who committed the offense is my kin, you see? And as my kin, I must insist that it’s my stones he answers to.” This orc, who spoke clearer Common than many from my village, slid his eyes over to me, smiled knowingly. “Ah, has our prodigal found a bride? And right before his return? How unfortunate.”

I waited for someone to argue, to put up a fight. Drazha’s mouth was a thin line, her eyes hate, but she didn’t speak.

Khal stepped forward, and I waited for threats, but what rasped out of him was, “He’s Drashik. By our treaties, you can take, but you cannot kill.” And I wanted to scream. Rowena, behind him, met my eyes, her own open horror.

The orc spread his hands. “I have no intention of dealing death. Our criminals serve their atonements. We are called to the East. I’ll take our wayward son with us.”

Vrathgar’s hand tightened on mine, the only sign he gave.

Rowena hissed, “No,” started to step forward, and Khal put himself between her and the interloping force. “Let me take them,” she spat. “I’m not used up; I can do it, let me kill them. You know I can!”

The Droth warband leader was listening, that wide smile still on his face, like he wasn’t being threatened with fire.

“I know you can take them,” Khal said. “I know. But the Droth have more, and more. They will come again, and again, and they will not stop. If we kill today, they will not stop killing.”

Her shoulders shook, and she fell against him.

I looked up into Vrathgar’s face, his eyes gone hollow, empty. I caught at his necklace, that wide collar. “I’ll come with you,” I said, and I watched him wrench himself back, his breath catch.

The broad orc laughed. “Yes, do bring the little baggage, nephew-of-mine. I’m sure food can be found for her…if she’ll serve well.”

His knuckles were white on my hands, my wrist. “No,” he muttered. “Absolutely not.” He caught the side of my face, bent his head to mine. “I will return. I will return, if…”