Page 4 of The Orc's Stolen Shepherdess

“No. No soldiers. Just look for anomalies.”

“There’s only fifteen of us,” Toj said from the back, surprising me because he was usually quiet. He was a tall, slender male with skin so dark he didn’t have to paint it when on night patrol. “That’s not enough to cover the entire forest.”

“Or even the main proximity of it,” Ogvick added.

“Do it anyway.” Brovdir’s eyes narrowed.

“I thought we were supposed to be making camps for the other orcs who are coming to settle here,” Ogvick said despite Chief Brovdir’s deep scowl. The male’s youth always showed in his inability to shut up. “Aren’t some of them going to be here in less than a moon?”

“If we don’t start soon, they’re going to show up and have to sleep in the mud,” Toj said under his breath.

“We’ll do that later,” Chief Brovdir said.

“And what about finding women?” Hendr’s voice was so loud it nearly echoed off the trees. “Some of us weren’t successful at this morning’s trade!”

“You will all stayawayfrom the humans,” Brovdir said firmly. “You have to wait until the next trade.”

“But why?” Hendr shouted. “We finally have a chance to get a conquest, to havesons, and you want us to tromp through the muck of these blasted woods instead of trying to win one?”

“Silence,” Chief Brovdir said in a grave tone that was as low as the goblin’s deepest mine. “You’ll have plenty of time to find conquests and have sons later. Now, you will walk and send birds back with reports. Fan out to cover more ground. Go!”

The crowd dispersed, though somewhat begrudgingly, and I walked through the mud back to my tent to gather provisions. We’d been staying on the outskirts of Rove Wood Clan for twenty days, longer than we had stayed anywhere, and the camp was showing its age.

Deep wells of mud marred the middle of the paths and the trek around them was growing just as bad. The logs we’d gathered for seats around our fires were breaking down. The fire pits we’d made weren’tlarge enough to properly cook the elk and boar we’d hunted, and the sticks we’d carved into skewers to roast our fish were splintering.

Usually, we only stayed in a place for a single night unless someone was gravely injured. We marched, fought, and scavenged for food along the way. We were always on guard. Always ready for the next battle. Always choosing which clan to aid next or which Waking Order scheme to thwart.

Now I was here, in these woods, surrounded by peace and tranquility, the likes of which I’d never known. My only job was to walk in the woods and report anything odd. Simple. Easy. Low risk.

And I’d never felt more on edge.

I pushed back the flap of my elk skin tent and kneeled down on my bedding, trying to keep the mud off it. I gathered up my supplies. Dried meat. A water pouch. Some bandages and healing tinctures and. . .

And I didn’t need those things, did I? There weren’t any soldiers here trying to slaughter us. The only humans were from a village that had been peaceful with orc kind for centuries.

I exhaled. An attempt to get my tension to leave me. The chatter of my brethren trailed off as they ventured into theforest. The wind in the trees felt stifling, and every crackle from the dying embers made my muscles clench.

The quiet of this place made my skin prickle and my ears strain to hear what might break it. A deep-seated ache hummed in my marrow, like the rumble of thunder after a lightning strike. Like the storm wasn’t finished with me yet.

But it was. These peaceful woods were where I was meant tostay.

Stay.

Forever.

I tied up my pack with such force I was surprised the drawstrings didn’t tear and pushed back out of the tent into the morning light.

Brovdir remained at the edge of the camp near the woods. I approached him and was glad to see his eyes were light with ease. I knew being named chief by the warlord, his brother, had been the last thing Brovdir wanted. My friend had always preferred to receive orders rather than give them.

“Been given a house,” he said as I got closer.

I raised my brows. “A house? You mean one of the tree dwellings in theclan?”

Brovdir nodded.

I hummed under my breath, “I suppose it makes sense. You are chief now, after all.”

“Halfchief,” Brovdir said. “Chief Sythcol is just as important.”

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