Page 137 of The Orc Chief's Baker
The lead conjurer took a long, deep breath and then said, “No. But I will after today.” He looked to Brovdir. “I’d like to come with you to speak to the headman.”
Brovdir nodded. “Good.”
Sythcol sagged with relief, and they began walking again. “I heard you did well bridging the gap yesterday.”
Trinia’s brow furrowed and Brovdir looked just as confused. “You mean the sinkhole?” he asked.
“No,” Sythcol said with a slight chuckle. “Though it is good you found a way to mend the wall. I mean the gap between thewarriors and the conjurers of Rove Wood Clan. And the even wider chasm between the warriors and thehumans.”
Trinia couldn’t help smiling at the memory. The villagers had been so stunned that the warrior orcs were helping mend the wall. They’d been especially shocked by Ogvick who had worked tirelessly to evacuate every child and teacher from the school.
“You make a good chief, Brovdir,” Sythcol continued. “Far better than I’d given you credit for.”
“Trinia helps.” Brovdir took her hands, and her cheeks flushed at the praise.
“That she does,” Sythcol said quietly. “Can I assume you will continue helping?”
Trinia nodded. “For as long as he wants my help.”
“Forever.” Brovdir’s grip on her hand tightened. “I want your help forever.”
A warm tingle shivered from the top of her head, all the way to her toes, and she smiled at him helplessly.
Sythcol cleared his throat. “That is good, then. With the two of you working together, I believe you will mend the bridge between our communities.” He took a deep breath. “As long as I stay out of the way.”
Trinia exchanged a shocked look with Brovdir. “Sythcol, you’re stepping down?”
The male took a deep breath and then nodded swiftly. Decisively. “Not... completely. I’ll still aid you when you need it. I’ll act as your second-in-command and help as much and as often as I am able. It’s just that...” Sythcol sucked in a hard breath and closed his eyes as if trying to find the words. “I’ve been spending too much time in Ergoth’shead.”
Trinia clutched Brovdir’s hand tight. “What does that mean?”
Sythcol wouldn’t meet either of their gazes. “I’ve been poring over his notes, his thoughts, his very essence. It’s swirlingaround me faster than the sinkhole from yesterday, and I don’t have the strength to shake it off.”
He broke off and placed his palm to his forehead, wincing like a headache was blooming.
“Should you stop?” Brovdir asked.
“I can’t... I must discover what is going on, what he washidingor we’ll...”
“We’ll what?” Trinia asked, but Sythcol just shook his head.
“So, my plan, if you will agree”—Sythcol looked at Brovdir—“is to default to you the same way you’ve been defaulting to me.”
She could feel Brovdir tensing against her.
“You’re ready,” Sythcol insisted. “You have what it takes to lead this clan well and I know you will put the wellbeing of our orcs first, both conjurers and warriors alike.”
Brovdir swallowed hard. “Will still . . . need help.”
“And I will still be around to give it. And I know Trinia will too. I know you will do well.” Sythcol chuckled, but the mirth didn’t meet his eyes as he looked up at the tree canopy and said quietly, “In many ways, you are a much better chief than I am.”
“We are good in our own ways,” Brovdir said. Then he stopped and held out his hand to Sythcol. “Leave it to me.”
Sythcol hesitated for a moment before clasping Brovdir’s hand and giving it a shake. “Thank you.”
The rest of the walk was passed in companionable silence and Trinia found herself holding Brovdir’s hand tight as the wall of oaks that gave her town its name came into view. Back when her town was founded before the wall was built, the orcs were considered fearsome enemies.
So much had changed since then. For the better.
