Page 47 of The Orc's Rage

Cedar was surprised to hear Rathka share anything personal from her life with Orgha. Most of the time, she refused to speak a word about herself or her own preferences.

“It could be a month,” Rathka said thoughtfully. “Maybe many months. Who knows?”

It landed like a heavy, sharp stone in Cedar’s belly.Many months. She hugged her middle, purely out of instinct, thinking how much would change and how quickly. She expected he would leave on campaigns from time to time, as he had before. But not for whole months.

Cedar rose from her seat, endeavoring not to let her surprise or her disappointment show.

“It’s time for Kiya’s dinner,” she said, turning to hide her face as her lip trembled. “Let’s go back.”

Rathka followed along without her usual objections, which she always made when Cedar attempted special trips for her pet. Cedar whistled and Kiya came running, and the cat received a nugget of dried chicken liver from her pocket for his obedience.

When Cedar went to bed that night, for the first time since she’d been stolen, she let herself weep. It was quiet and slow, but it was enough for Kiya to hear her and hop onto the bed, concerned. She pulled him close, wishing it was Kargorr there with her instead, and fell asleep with her head in his fur.

The following days were some of the longest of Cedar’s life. The feeling that something was missing gnawed at her insides, as if she was hungry but her stomach was in her soul. At night she could almost sense Kargorr there, a ghost separated from her by a hundred miles.

She hated it. She hated how helpless she felt, waiting and watching. If she was going to keep her mind intact, she needed to find some way to occupy herself.

As they did every day, Cedar and Rathka wandered around the village. The sky was empty of clouds, and though it was bitterly cold, the sun was welcome. Cedar asked every orc she came upon if they could use her help for something, but most of them were too surprised to give her a straight answer, and some gave her dirty looks, aimed carefully at the ground.

There may be a few humans in the village, but a new one, a strange one, was clearly not trusted.

The only orc who entertained her was the leatherworker who had given her the faun’s pelt. He had been brought a fresh kill, a massive bear, and wanted to save and use the hide.

Rathka strongly disapproved of Cedar stepping in to learn the work, saying it was below even the lord’s concubine, but Cedar ignored her and listened to what the old orc had to teach her. It was disgusting, truly. Perhaps that was why she ended up enjoying it so much. She couldn’t think of anything else but the tear of the flesh away from the hide, the stench or the endless scraping. It occupied her fully, and when the day was through, her arms were sore and the leatherworker was pleased she would come back.

“You smell foul,” Rathka had said as they ate their dinners. “We ought to visit the bath tent.”

After Cedar had some time to digest, they walked to the baths at the other end of the camp. Cedar came here as often as she could, but they glared at her if it was too frequently. This time, the tent was empty, and she and Rathka each filled a tub with hot water from the fire.

Kiya stuck up his nose at the sight of the tubs and sat irritably in the corner, as if he feared one of them trying to pull him in.

As they undressed, Cedar saw Rathka had some scars of her own. The orc woman noticed Cedar taking inventory and her eyebrows rose.

“I was going to be a warrior,” Rathka said as she sank into the hot water. Cedar tested it with her leg first, then submerged herself in the next tub. “I trained. But my leg isn’t good, and I was denied when I came of age.”

Perhaps that explained some of her bitterness.

“I’m sorry,” Cedar said. Rathka did always seem rather restless. “Could you have trained other warriors instead?”

Rathka looked at her like she’d sprouted antlers. “Only a seasoned warrior trains younger warriors. Don’t be ridiculous.”

The orc slipped under the surface of the water to wet her hair, and Cedar followed her example. Then Cedar soaped her body, but as her hands grazed over her nipples, she instantly thought of Kargorr, and her muscles went tense.

That old question came back to her, again and again. Did he still plan to take more concubines? Had anything really changed between them if he could leave without saying goodbye?

The silence drew out as Cedar was lost in her thoughts.

“You grew too attached.”

Rathka’s soft words startled her. Cedar glanced up from where she’d been staring into the dirty water.

“You think he cares for you, don’t you?” Rathka went on. There was no judgment in her tone. It was mostly sympathy.

Cedar couldn’t trust herself to speak. In truth, she did think that. Kargorr had led her to believe it. She hadn’t imagined the night before he left, and it had all been plain to her then how he felt.

Right?

Finally, Cedar decided to set her foot in the sand. To carve out a space for herself. To insist that she had one.

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