Page 37 of The War God's Woman

I stiffen, recalling Lirienne’s fearful recounting of Gaurbod’s plotting. “Yes. Which is why I want you all to keep a close eye on who volunteers to join the pilgrimage. We’ll need to gather loyal orcs who truly want resolution, not sabotage.”

Karzug claps a fist to his chest in salute. “We’ll start preparations immediately, Chieftain.”

With that, the secret meeting ends, a swirl of tasks assigned among the watchers and advisors. As they disperse, none looks entirely reassured. The idea of traveling toward the sacred altar with half the clan suspecting Lirienne as a curse—and the other half suspecting sabotage—seems like an invitation to violence.But if we do nothing, the clan tears itself apart here.

Not an hour after the meeting, a group of clan elders confronts me in the main hall. Thick pillars bear old runes dedicated to the War God, the floor scattered with animal furs for seating. These elders, hunched and grey-haired, seldom venture from their usual corner unless they want to make a point. Today, they clearly do.

One elder, draped in tattered ceremonial robes, shakes his staff so violently the carved bone charms rattle. “Chieftain, we have come to demand you heed the War God’s will!” His voice echoes off the stone walls, drawing curious glances from orcs passing outside.

I cross my arms, maintaining a steady posture. “I’ve already decided on the pilgrimage.”

A ripple of surprise flickers across their lined faces, quickly replaced by stern nods. “Good,” says another elder, her braidedhair grey with age. “We can’t abide this uncertainty any longer. The clan’s survival depends on the War God’s favor.”

I suppress a flash of irritation.You so easily assume it’s the War God’s anger, ignoring the sabotage that stands right in front of you.But I bite my tongue. “We’ll prepare to leave within the next day or two,” I tell them evenly. “You’ll have your sacred petition.”

The first elder’s gaze shifts, a flicker of cunning. “And the human? She goes too?”

My tusks grind together. “She must. Otherwise, how else will we discover if the War God condemns or spares her?”

A few elders exchange wary glances. “If He truly hates her presence,” murmurs one in a voice dripping with foreboding, “she won’t survive the pilgrimage. We hope you’re prepared for such a possibility.”

Anger roils in my gut, but my voice is measured. “That’s for the War God to decide. Not you.”

They bow stiffly, hobble out, leaving me grappling with the urge to slam my fist into a pillar.If they’re so sure the War God demands blood, they might provoke an ‘accident’ themselves.I have to ensure Lirienne’s safety on this journey at all costs.

I’ve just finished that tense exchange with the elders when an even more unwelcome figure appears near the main hall’s threshold—Gaurbod, my cousin. His braided hair glints with iron beads, the same shade as mine, though he’s slightly leaner in build. A smug half-smile twists his lips as he approaches, flanked by two warriors who share his sly air.

“Well, cousin,” Gaurbod drawls, inclining his head in mocking courtesy. “I hear you finally caved to the elders’ demands. Taking that human to the temple to beg forgiveness?”

I resist the urge to bare my tusks. “I’m doing what’s necessary for the clan. You’d do well to fall in line.”

He clicks his tongue, feigning pity. “You cling to that woman so fiercely. The clan wonders if you’re bewitched. Perhaps you hope the War God’s temple will break her hold on you?”

My rage simmers, but I force a cold smile. “If you truly believed I was under a curse, you’d challenge me openly. Yet here you stand, spouting rumors instead of facing me in honorable combat.”

A tense silence pulses. The two warriors at his side bristle, clearly loyal to him. Gaurbod’s gaze flickers. “Careful, dear cousin. The War God might not appreciate your arrogance. If I do challenge you, it will be when the clan stands fully behind me.”

So that’s his game. He wants a bloodless coup, an entire clan demanding I step down, rather than risk losing a direct fight. I laugh softly—an empty sound. “You won’t get that chance. Once I prove these omens are mortal-made, your conspiracies crumble.”

He shrugs, confidence undiminished. “We’ll see, Ghorzag. Enjoy your pilgrimage—if you return.” With that veiled threat, he pivots on his heel and strides off, entourage in tow.

My hands shake with the urge to seize him by the throat right there. But doing so would only fuel his claims that I’m unstable.Calm, I order myself. We need cunning as much as brute force to root out his scheme. If the War God’s verdict—real or perceived—comes back in Lirienne’s favor, Gaurbod’s propaganda collapses.

By midday, I’ve ordered the fortress guards to prepare a travel detail—picking a select group to accompany me. Karzug oversees the logistics, ensuring we have enough supplies for a week’s journey. We agree that only the most trustworthy warriors will come. Anyone with even a whiff of Gaurbod’s influence is pointedly excluded, though we can’t be certain we’ve weeded out every spy.

At last, I walk to Lirienne’s tent. My chest tightens at the thought of seeing her again. After our furious, desperate night together, everything has changed. But the clan’s suspicion leaves us with little time to explore that new bond.

I find her sitting on a low stool outside the tent, carefully tending to a small herb garden she’s cultivated in wooden boxes. She glances up, tension in her eyes immediately giving way to cautious relief at my presence. “Ghorzag,” she says softly.

“Busy?” I ask, voice gentler than usual.

Her gaze flicks to the half-pruned herb stalks, then back to me. “Just trying to keep my mind off the rumors.” A shadow crosses her face. “They’re getting worse.”

I nod, stepping closer. “We’re leaving soon,” I tell her, keeping my tone firm yet calm. “The War God’s priests demand a sacred pilgrimage to the temple. And you must come with me.”

She stills, fingers tightening around a leaf. “I was afraid you’d say that,” she murmurs. Then, squaring her shoulders, she meets my gaze. “What does that mean for me?”

“It means we walk a hard road,” I admit. “The temple is about a week’s journey through the mountain passes. If the War God truly despises your presence, so the elders say, you’ll face his condemnation.”

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