Page 68 of The Orc's Innocent Plaything

I needed to begin my future.

The sun was playing behind clouds—teasing us with warmth now that midwinter was officially past. But still, ‘twas not even high in the sky when Myra sat back on her haunches and eyed our bounty.

“I do not think even Nan expected us to harvest this much. We will have plenty for the village—I think ‘twill be another year and a half before anyone needs to consider returning.”

“Good,” I grunted, thinking of those Battleborn warriors we’d seen the night before. A few times this morning, I thought I’d caught the scent of another male out here, but dismissed it as myKteerbeing too sensitive and anxious to claim my Mate.

“I’m no’ in a hurry to return here. I’ll load these into the bags.”

By the time we did, the horse was overloaded. Still, I swung up behind Myra and urged the beast back toward the northern end of the island where the ferry would be waiting for us. ‘Twas a battle to keep from spurring the animal into a gallop; ‘twould not make the ferry meet us any earlier, and the poor beast was overburdened as ‘twas.

By the late afternoon, I took pity on the horse and climbed down to lead it, although I kept us at a fast pace. I did my best to stay alert, but found myself walking beside the saddle more often than not, because Myra had a habit of humming slightly as she played with my beads, and the sensation was intoxicating.

So mayhap I wasn’t paying as close attention to my surroundings as I should have. Mayhap there was a sign I—or my distractedKteer—missed.

Or mayhap not.

My sensesdidbegin to tingle as we approached the north end of the island, and I found myself peering into the scrub foliage on either side of the path as we passed. The scent of salty woodsmoke eerily similar to last night’s, wafted through the air. I loosened my hammer and eventually pulled it free altogether, stamping my boot to ensure my dagger was settled properly.

Behind me, I heard Myra suck in a breath as she realized I was worried, and was proud when she said naught.

As we reached the path that would lead us down to the beach, I was pleased she was riding.

“Mate,” I murmured, as we picked our way down the washed-out trail. “Ye ride well enough. If I tell ye to run, ye will run, do ye understand? Get to high ground, someplace defensible.”

I didn’t look back—I was too busy concentrating on the trail—but I heard her breathe something.

Then she whispered, “Are they coming back? The Battleborn?”

“I dinnae ken,” I had to admit, glad she was keeping her voice down, although I suspected the horse’s heavy tread kicking scree and mud down the slope would alert any watchers to our presence. “Torvolk would ken,” I muttered.

He was our Ranger, but I’d sent him to the stones at the full moon to find my brother. ‘Twould be another month before we heard word from him. I prayed he’d return in a month with news about Kragorn so I could focus on the future I was made for: smithing, training, and pleasing my Mate.

As we reached level ground, the scent of smoke was stronger, alarming.

“There is the ferry,” Myra whispered.

Except…

The boat pulled ashore beside the untended fire with the roasting spit over it was not the boat which had rowed usand the horse to Jura. Nay, this one had a furled sail and banks of oars. This was a warship, and the colors were…

“Battleborn,” I hissed.

When the warriors materialized, seeming to melt out of the sand and scrub to surround us with their swords prominently displayed, the best I could do was urge the horse to back up. I wanted Myra facing the trail again so she could run as I distracted them. I stepped forward, hefting my battle hammer in my right hand, lightheaded from the bloodlust myKteerwas pumping through me.

Their leader, the black-cloaked male with the rings in his ear, stepped to the center of their circle, between us and the fire. He wore double swords, one larger than the other, and his hands rested on their hilts. His expression was neutral, and he wasn’t threatening us—yet.

Notyet.

I wouldn’t attack them, not with my Mate vulnerable behind me. But gods below, I would die to protect her.

Nay, I wouldliveto protect her.

I had to find a way to turn the tide in my favor.

So I lifted my battle hammer and said clearly, “Ye would all threaten us. It seems a dishonorable attack if there’s twenty of ye and one of me.”

The leader—the one who might have seen us last night—cocked his head to one side, studying me. Then he flicked his fingers and his men all stepped back, while he sauntered closer.

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