Page 20 of The Orc Chief's Baker
But she got it done, and soon enough, Victir was loping up the dirt path to her bakery. She gave the usually quiet and calm older man a smile and found the white bread she’d made him.
“Here you are, Victir. Thank you for pulling my cart again today. The family isn’t coming with you?” His wife and four children almost always attended the trade with him.
Her brow creased as she looked at his empty arms. He didn’t reach out to take his bread. Her hand lowered slowly. “Where are your fabric samples? Are you not going to take any commissions today?”
His eyes grew wide a moment and then understanding flooded his warn features. “You weren’t at the town meeting this morning.”
“No, I wasn’t. What’s going on?”
Fades, what if the trade had been called off for today?
“The warlord is visiting with an entire troop of warriors.”
Trinia felt suddenly very cold. Her eyes grew so wide she could feel the breeze on them.
Victir continued as if he didn’t see Trinia had been struck dumb. “Viravia sent word late last night and asked if theyallcould attend today. Nearly fifty of them.”
“How . . . er . . . I mean,whendid they get here?”
“Couple days ago now.”
It all clicked rapidly into place then. The scars, the way he’d easily scared off the cat, the good quality knife and blacksmithing skills...
The orc wasn’t a courier, he was awarrior.
A warrior for the dreaded Warlord of Baelrok Forge.
She went so dizzy with shock that for a moment she thought she might be sick.
“I don’t feel right going.”
She rapidly came back to present and stared at Victir in muted shock.
“I appreciate you making the bread, but I’ll not bring my kids into a fray of orcs worse than Govek. No matter what the headman says.” Victir stepped away, shaking his head. His graying hair was messy, as if he’d been raking his hands through it in worry. “Sorry, Trinia, I won’t be able to pull your cart today.”
Her breath caught in her throat and her stomach clenched so hard she felt nauseous. “But... Victir, I can’t pull it on my own.” It was stacked full this time. There was just no way.
And it didn’t matter who the orc was. Warrior or courier, sheneededto get these pans commissioned. She just had to!
“Terribly sorry,” Victir stepped back. “I’ve got to get back. My kids are in a right state.”
With that, he turned on his heel and began a rapid pace down the path into town.
“Victir!” Trinia called, stepping forward to follow him, but the set of his shoulders told her it was no use. His mind was made up.
She watched him disappear into the trees. Smoke from the other homes curled above the oaks and firs. A few of the log cabin houses peeped between the foliage. Just a short way up the path stood the gates of Oakwall. All those who were attending the trade today would already be gathering there.
There was no time. The trade group would be leaving in a few moments. Anyone who was attending the trade would be gone. She’d not be able to find another person to pull for her.
She left her wares and her cart and bolted toward the gates.
Chapter
Six
BROVDIR
“Just look at how pissed our dear uncle is,” Karthoc chortled as he led the group of warriors along the woodland path. The scent of the deep forest was soothing despite the predicament they had gotten themselves into. The chill of the morning was harsh against Brovdir’s naked upper half but that wasn’t the reason he regretted not finding a shirt to wear.
