Page 128 of The Orc Chief's Baker
Tipping toward the town.
“Ogvick, run down to a stable point, climb over the wall, and evacuate them!” Brovdir ordered.
Ogvick sprinted off into the trees.
There was another tremendous crash as more of the land was sucked away. The frothing brown water roared as it spiraled into the deep.
“I’ll try again!” Sythcol said. “If I could just plug the tunnel.”
Brovdir inhaled sharply and Trinia turned to find him yanking a scrap of paper out of his waistband. He pricked his thumb with his claw and scrawled a note in blood.
“What are you doing? What are you writing?” Trinia said, craning her neck to see. “You... you’re calling onElder Plogfor aid? What? Why?”
Brovdir whistled, and a bird swooped down, snatched the note from his outstretched palm and disappeared into the trees.
“I don’t understand! What are youdoing?”
Brovdir turned to her and gripped her shoulders tight in his hands. The warm, heavy weight grounded her and the steadfastdetermination in his face helped her breathe. He took a long inhale through his nose, and she copied him, filling her lungs, exhaling with him.
The panic eased.
A tremendous boom sounded, and they both jumped and spun around.
A huge stretch of ground beneath the wall had been swept away.
The wall rippled and leaned.
“I must tie the branches of the willow to the wall.” Brovdir gripped her shoulders again. “I must.”
She knew he did. She knew he had to try, even though it seemed impossible.
Her eyes flooded, and she wanted to start wailing and never stop.
“Stay here,” Brovdir ordered. “Stay here... my love.”
Her stomach flipped over, and her eyes widened. Her blood heated up in her veins.
“I love youtoo.”
Joy flooded his features, and he pressed a hard, fast kiss to her lips.
“Come back to me!” she demanded as tears began to course down her cheeks. He paused only briefly to brush one with his thumb.
And then he was gone.
Chapter
Forty
BROVDIR
She loved him.She loved him!
He refused to lose her!
Brovdir barreled toward the willow and sprang halfway up the tree. His plan to call on Elder Plog for aid would work. Ithadto! There was no other choice!
The willow buckled and swayed with every one of his motions. Already a third of its roots had been washed out, but where the wall leaned toward the village, the willow leaned away. With any luck, tying them together would hold the oaks in place or even pull them away from Oakwall entirely.
