Page 121 of The Orc's Captive Bride
The stew was a simple fish chowder, but it was hot and delicious and exactly what she needed.
Khorrek ate mechanically, his eyes constantly scanning the room and looking for threats. She wanted to tell him it was okay, that they were safe, but she could feel his tension.
They finished eating and he put a pile of coins on the table.
The woman’s eyes widened when she came to collect their empty bowls. “That’s too much.”
“We need a horse.”
Understanding flickered. “Don’t have any to sell.”
“I’m not buying.” His voice was flat, matter-of-fact. “But when one goes missing in the morning, you’ll have enough to replace it.”
The woman stared at him for a long moment before her gaze shifted to Thea.
“Brown mare,” the woman said quietly. “In the stable behind the tavern. She’s gentle and she has good stamina. Take her.”
Khorrek couldn’t quite hide his surprise. “Why?”
“Because whatever you’re running from, it must be worse than horse theft.” She leaned closer. “And because High King Lasseran’s men were through here earlier, asking questions and making threats.”
Thea’s blood ran cold. “What did you tell them?”
“Nothing. Because I hadn’t seen anyone.” The woman straightened. “Still haven’t. You understand?”
“Yes.” Khorrek stood. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. Just go before his hunters return.”
They didn’t need to be told twice.
The stable was small and dark, smelling of hay and horse. The brown mare was exactly as the woman had said, calm and well-cared-for. He approached her with confident, gentle movements and ran a hand down her neck. The horse accepted him without protest.
He saddled the mare quickly, then helped her mount before swinging up behind her. They left the village at a steady trot, not running or drawing attention. Just travelers continuing their journey.
The moon rose, and her heart sank at the size of it. Less than two weeks until the Blood Moon and Lasseran’s ritual. The timelinefelt impossible, but then impossible had become relative since she’d stepped through that portal.
Khorrek urged the mare into a canter as soon as they left the village behind, following the coast road north towards mountains she could barely see in the darkness.
Towards Norhaven.
Toward safety or disaster. She honestly wasn’t sure which.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Three days of relentless riding had stripped away the last of Khorrek’s illusions about who he’d been. Every mile north had been another thread severed. Another tie to Lasseran cut. Another piece of his carefully constructed identity left bleeding in the dust behind them.
He’d been a weapon, a thing shaped and honed for a single purpose.
Now he was just… Khorrek.
No master, no orders, and no certainty about what came next. Just him and Thea and the desperate hope that they could find sanctuary in the one place he’d always been taught to despise.
The brown mare—Thea had named her Courage, which was either adorably naive or surprisingly apt—picked her way through the rocky terrain with admirable stubbornness. Three days of hard travel and the horse was still moving. Still putting one hoof in front of the other despite an exhaustion that had to match his own.
A good horse. They’d been lucky—no, not lucky. Blessed. That woman in the fishing village had given them more than a horse. She’d given them a chance. He’d remember her kindness when the time came to repay debts.
If we survive long enough for debts to matter.
