Page 107 of The Orc Chief's Baker
He placed a hand on her shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze. “All will be well. I vow it.”
She looked up at him with such trust his heart felt like it might burst. She edged in closer, nearly to his side. “I suppose I know for sure of one place that is safe.”
She said this so quietly he nearly didn’t catch it. With his head tipped in confusion, he asked, “Where?”
Trinia looked up into his eyes. Her smile was soft and her gaze was filled with such warmth he wondered if he was melting.
“With you.”
Was it possible to suffocate from delight? Because he could have sworn that was what was about to happen.
Trinia’s eyes drifted back to their path and then widened. “What... exactly are they doing?”
Brovdir stopped abruptly, suddenly realizing that they had reached their destination. Through the trees, he could see ElderPlog surveying a clearing and the sons were all around him working on... on...
On digging up the frozen ground.
“Hello there!” Elder Plog hobbled over with his same wide grin and his fresh demeanor, but the mischievous glint in his eye had Brovdir wishing he could turn tail and run back to his home. With Trinia.
One glance at his woman, however, had him rethinking his quick exit. Her expression was bright with curiosity, and a light smile played at her lips.
He would stop at nothing to keep her happy.
So, in the madness, they would stay.
“Well, don’t you both look about as pruned as a plum,” the elder said. “Little baker, you seem a little more prune than usual. Is something haunting you?”
Trinia’s face fell and Brovdir wanted to smack the male for reminding her of her troubles.
“All’s well. What is going on here?” Brovdir said decisively. Trinia squeezed his hand and gifted him with a grateful smile.
“Come to see our progress, did you?” the elder said with a beaming smile. “They’re doing well, aren’t they?”
“Whatarethey doing?” Trinia’s eyes widened as a young male who could not have been more than seven lifted a rock the size of his abdomen out of the hole and chucked it onto the frost laden ground.
“Digging boar traps, of course!”
“Foolishness,” Brovdir muttered nearly at the same time. The elder shot him an amused look, which he ignored. “Stop this.”
“How will we prepare for the boar then?” the elder asked almost flippantly. “And besides, the boys are enjoying themselves. They need to practice their magic, you know. Otherwise, it will get as rusty as my old paring knife. They’ll be good for nothing but washing and flaking off rust in chunks.”
“Are you talking about the knife or the children?” The mirth in Trinia’s voice was clear and Brovdir’s irritation lessened.
“Both, I suppose. One and the same, aren’t they?”
“The children and your paring knife are one and the same?” Trinia asked.
The old male laughed heartily in response to Trinia’s question and then turned to Brovdir. “So! What brings you here? Have you got the skewers?”
“No,” Brovdir growled low. “Here tostop you.”
The statement had the children all popping their heads out of the massive hole, which was much deeper than he’d thought.
“What? We’re stopping?”
“I don’t want to stop!”
“We’ve almost got it deep enough.”
