Page 57 of The Orc's Innocent Plaything

And the worst of it was, she was likely right.

I needed to investigate. But if Battleborn were roaming these hills, I couldn’t leave my Mate alone, either.

Grimly, I slid my hand through hers then bent to scoop up my battleax. I gripped the haft, reassured by the weight, knowing ‘twas a good weapon. A weapon which could protect Myra, could buy her enough time to escape if necessary.

“I am ready,” she breathed, understanding the need for stealth.

I couldn’t help myself; I bent down to capture her lips for a fast kiss, deep and hard. MyKteerneeded to be reminded who we fought for. When I straightened, I whispered, “Good lass,” against her hair, then turned toward the night.

Following the scent of burning wood, my nose led us toward the cliffs. The sounds of revelry grew louder as we approached, and I was grateful we’d stopped such a distance away—and that the horse was tethered well beyond the hearing of whoever was down there.

Being careful not to disturb any soil or rocks that might give away our presence, I ghosted across the top of the cliff, looking for a good vantage point.

When I found it, I almost wished I hadn’t.

Because below, on the beach, two large boats rested, their oars standing upright and the sails—sails I knew would be painted in terrifying colors to strike fear into their victims—furled.Fook.

Myra lowered herself carefully to her stomach beside me so she could also peer over the edge of the cliff.

“Battleborn?” she breathed.

Part of me wanted toshushher, to warn her not to do anything to alert them to our presence. But I stifled the urge, merely grunting my agreement grimly instead, because I knew we were too far away to be heard.

Especially not over the revelry below.

It seemed they were celebrating something and I peered about, trying to determine what.

The males seemed to be from two different groups—the different ships, mayhap? Half of them wore mismatchedcolors and cloaks made from the fur of large animals, like I did. They wore their beards bushy and their hair unkempt. They were covered in tattoos of all sorts.

Self-consciously, I reached up to finger the beads I’d woven into my braids. A male’s appearance was the first thing others noticed about him; how could these orcs not care how they were thought of? Or mayhap ‘twas the point, so their victims would know them to be slovenly and unlawful?

If so, then the second group should be less scary, but ‘twas not the case.

The other half of the males, who at least kept their beards trimmed evenly, wore simple capes and cloaks made from dark material gathered close about them. While the first group clumped around the fires, yelling and singing snippets of bawdy songs and waving tankards, this second group stood on the edges of the firelight, some with their backs to it, conversing in small groups.

As I watched, quite a few members of the second group sent disgusted glances at the drunken ones.

TheywereBattleborn, that was no doubt, and there had to be thirty of them down there. Far more than I could face alone. And honestly, well-armed enough to make me glad I had never sent my Bloodfire warriors after them. ‘Twas clear this was two separate septs of the Battleborn clan, and who knew how many more warrior and sea raiders they could expect to call up?

Still, the thought of this fierce band pillaging the coastline made my chest tight with rage. And, if I were honest with myself, guilt. I couldn’t stop them, but if Bloodfire warriorshad made a stand against them, could we have halted whatever they were celebrating tonight?

Ye would send yer men to their deaths?

I swallowed down my uncertainty.

Malla the Beginner! I hated having to make decisions like this!

Without making a sound, Myra scooted closer to me so our shoulders touched. We were lying on top of the cliff, peering over the edge, each keeping our own council as we studied the men below.

And then, two more came out of the darkness; an older male with a heavy paunch slapped the back of the other and sauntered toward the fire, calling for ale, while the second male pulled his dark cloak around him and drifted toward a knot of his own men, shaking his head as he spoke quietly to them.

I studied him.

Even from here, ‘twas clear this male was the leader. He wore the rings in his ears that some of the sea raider captains used to designate their rank, and they caught the firelight when he turned to speak to the male at his side.

Hecommanded with a natural ease I could admit myself envying.

Myra was watching him too.

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