Page 12 of Faeling
Innrinhom was the most serious threat to Vallek’s unification, its chieftain a sly old soldier who never bowed to anyone. Vallek wasn’t the first chieftain of Balmirra to seek unification of the clans, but Innrinhom always proved a holdout.
Though not as large as Balmirra or Kaldebrak, Innrinhom was still formidable and occupied an important strategic territory near the Shanago River. Built atop a steep escarpment overlooking the river plain below, it was sheltered deep within an ancient forest. Innrinhom had the unique distinction amongst orcish cities of never having been sacked, by orc nor any other race. Hrothgar’s line traced itself all the way back to the ancestors who first stepped from the ships, unbroken through the centuries as it ably ruled the eastern territories.
The Innrini were proud and stubborn. Vallek didn’t relish the thought of trying to take that which had never been seized by force. He’d much rather find a diplomatic solution, and if that meant taking an Innrini bride, he was at least open to the idea.
An Innrini bride and queen would mean that none of Kennum’s daughters sat on the throne, though.
There had been those chieftains who took multiple spouses, of course. And it wasn’t rare to find bonded mates of three or even four. Still, he doubted Kennum or Hrothgar would appreciate his rationale.
Rubbing his jaw, Vallek said, “I know Chieftain Kennum is fond of all his daughters—to offer to part with even one is more than generous. I will consider it with the gravity it deserves.”
He could almost hear Eydis’s sigh of relief. They needed to discuss this and form a plan of action. Prevarication wasn’t Vallek’s preferred strategy, but he had far too much to lose now.He wouldn’t risk unification and all his work on the wrong bride.
Another evening, another goblet of mead, and another bout oftalfonwith his soothsayer. Vallek enjoyed his meads and sweet wines, but a king needed his wits about him, and so only indulged in one cup a night, once all the day’s business had been sorted. He let the honeyed liquid rest on his tongue a moment, savoring the lush richness of its buttery base and notes of elderflower, before swallowing it down.
He was savoring the game, too. He wasn’t sure when exactly he’d begun his bouts with the soothsayer; something in him had recognized the sharp mind and wit she hid beneath that thick cloak of hers. Vallek admired boldness, and it required heaps of such nerve to have marched into his camp demanding a position in his court.
He still couldn’t say precisely what had convinced him. Her little predictions that night in the camp could have easily been parlor tricks. Ulrich certainly had been in favor of leaving her tied to the nearest tree as they decamped the next day, and Vallek rarely if ever broke with Ulrich. They had been of one mind since they were young warriors, training together under the tyranny of Mordis. Cantankerous as he could be, Ulrich was loyal, and that was what counted to Vallek.
Still, he couldn’t deny the allure of a soothsayer. Halfway through their journey back to Balmirra, she proved her worth, predicting an attack from a band of outlaws. The human bandits quickly turned tail and ran when they saw how great a force Vallek had at his back—he never traveled anywhere with less than a hundred of his berserkers. So while they may never have been in danger from a roving band of human buffoons, the soothsayer had proven her skills.
Each new vision had only solidified her usefulness. She correctly predicted where Pyrrossi settlers would encroach on their eastern borders, as well as over a dozen particularly bad storms. Given the notice, Vallek could dispatch his troops to drive off the settlers as well as warn his people to take shelter.
She’d been invaluable time and again, and Vallek was grateful to her for helping hasten the unification, as well as keeping his people safe.
None of that meant he needed to form a friendship with her, though.
That had come of its own accord—and as quite a surprise to him.
Vallek hadn’t formed such an attachment without a bit of information, of course. Eydis watched over the soothsayer carefully, and he knew Ulrich was always suspicious. Between the two of them, if the human meant Vallek, Balmirra, or any orc any harm, they would have known it by now.
So, not too long into their acquaintance, Vallek had invited her to playtalfonwith him.
Perhaps at first it’d been a way to figure her out. Vallek understood the critical importance of information, and he had to know everything about those closest to him. Assassination was more the style of the dragons, but it wasn’t unheard of within the orc-kin. And he was no ordinary chieftain. He’d more than a few enemies within his own kind, let alone outside his borders.
Much could be gleaned about a person based on the way they playedtalfon. Some had no patience for the game at all. Which set they chose to field often implied underlying character traits, such as who might be more cautious. How did they handle the ebb and flow of the game—and most importantly, how did they handle losing?
Seeing how she lost every bout they played, Vallek would say his soothsayer handled it admirably.
Perhaps what had him coming back was an itching fascination. Why did she not use her gift to predict his moves? Did the gift not work like that, or was it that such predictions sapped the thrill from the game?
Whatever her reasons, he enjoyed her company. And that he won. It was another burning question of his whether she always let him win—he’d begun to keep a tally of games he won outright and which he suspected she threw.
According to the tallies, they were evenly matched.
Peering at her over the rim of his cup, Vallek considered his opponent.
She may have been beautiful once, to human eyes. She was soft in the way humans seemed to favor, with downturned eyes and a small mouth. Fine wrinkles lined her forehead and fanned from the corners of her eyes, hinting at her age. Her skin was a deep tan, but he couldn’t say whether that was because of years in the sun or hailing from more southerly climes.
He couldn’t say much about her at all, really. She never spoke of her life before, other than a few allusions to a lost family. Eydis suspected from her accent that she’d grown up along the western coast, perhaps even amongst the islands known as the Scales. Ulrich despised not knowing more of her story, and perhaps Vallek too should have been bothered by it.
He just…wasn’t.
Nothing about her seemed threatening to him, and she’d proven her loyalty and usefulness tenfold. What he’d come to learn about her from their evenings spent playingtalfonwas that he enjoyed her conversation, relished her cutting wit, and looked forward to watching her sharp mind at work.
After years with only Ulrich and his sisters as friends, it was an indulgent pleasure to have something of a friend in his soothsayer. He need not be king or chieftain, and she need not reveal her painful past. They could leave that all behind for a few pleasant hours, chatting and drinking.
Would he enjoy the company of his bride like this, he wondered?
