Page 11 of The Iron Oath
She eyed Barto who had made his way to the bank and was casually grazing on the brush not too far away. She relaxed back against the tree and glanced around. It was peaceful here. Shecould see why someone would want to live out here. No hustle and bustle of the town or the stronghold. An orc could be one with nature.
Magoza couldn’t even remember the last time she’d done anything for herself. Or even took a break. Now that she was entering the trials, she was going to have to train even harder. She refused to let her family down. It was an honor to represent their clan, but she had to prove herself to be the next chiefess, and she would.
She reached for the waterskin sitting next to her and lifted it to her lips. She paused at the sound of soft singing floating through the air. Magoza sat forward and strained to listen to the melodious sound that filled her ears. She pushed off the ground and swigged from her waterskin again, capping it. She tossed it down onto her saddlebag and stepped in the direction of the voice.
The voice called to her. She pushed aside a looming branch and took a few more steps. Her heart rate increased, and her breaths came faster. Magoza didn’t know who this was, but their singing was quite lovely, and her feet would not stop. She came to a dense part of the woods and paused.
On the other side would be the person who the voice belonged to. They were far from the village. Who in the seven hells could be out here? Magoza cautiously rested a hand on the handle of her axe. She never could be too safe. It could be a vicious siren who’d made it to land from the sea. Magoza’s muscles tensed. She moved the leaves enough so she could peek through them. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight that greeted her.
It was her.
The tuskless beauty.
Amuleta.
FIVE
Amuleta bentdown and pushed the fabric into the water. It was laundry day, and she had promised her mother that she would take their clothes to the river so she could wash them. The twin suns were high, and she had to admit the coolness of the river felt good around her calf muscles. It was warm, and doing laundry was not an easy task.
Amuleta raised the shirt and narrowed her gaze on the front of it where she remembered dripping some kind of sauce on it. She grimaced seeing a hint of the stain still in the light material. It called for more scrubbing. She was determined to get the stain out. This was one of her favorite shirts, but this wasn’t going to get her down. She had woken up refreshed and in a good mood.
Her plan was to get these clothes washed and set them out in the sun. It wouldn’t take them long to dry. With this heat, they would be ready in an hour or two, which would be plenty of time for her to go off and forage a bit. There were a few things she had seen on her way here that had caught her eye. She was about a mile from home and had brought her tools. Gelisha had locked herself in her sewing room, busy at work. Amuleta felt the warmth return in her chest at the thought of how happy Gelishahad been after their trip to town. It was like a breath of fresh air to see her mother—the one she had grown up with—not the broken, lost woman she was some days.
A song came to mind that Amuleta had learned when she was a child. Gelisha had taught it to her. It was in the ancient language of her mother’s grandmother people, the Fae. Amuleta began to sing as she made her way back to the bank of the river. She had folded her pant legs until they rested above her knees. She hadn’t needed to go far into the river in order to work on their clothing. Her feet met the soft warm earth as she moved to the area where she had laid out a few other items.
The song was about finding their one true love. It was a fairy tale that all little children were taught. Her grandmother had taught her mother, and Gelisha had ensured Amuleta knew the song. She spun around and danced back to the water’s edge and bent down to snag a skirt that needed cleaning. She only had a few more items left to attend to.
She went back into the water, her voice carrying through the air. She needn’t worry about anyone hearing her. She and her mother didn’t have neighbors for miles. She went through the motions of cleaning the clothing. The act of doing this chore didn’t bother her. It gave her time to think and dream. She twisted the skirt she was working on to get the excess water out of it. A smile appeared on her lips.
“Almost done,” she murmured. She stood to her full height and stretched to give a little relief to her back. She inhaled deeply and froze in place. The hairs on the back of her arms stood to attention. There was the sense that she wasn’t alone. Her gaze scanned the area across the river, but she didn’t see anything. She half expected a wild animal to be venturing toward the water to get a drink. Her blade she kept for protection was currently on the bank behind her.
Slowly, she turned and tried to act natural. Her gaze roamed the area near her, but she still didn’t see anything.
Was she going crazy?
Maybe she was. There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. She made her way back to where she had her other clothes resting on the bushes. It wasn’t the best place to hang clothes, but it always worked out. She placed the skirt down on a wide alkony bush and spun around.
“Time to forage,” she murmured.
The sensation was still there. Amuleta went over to her shoes and bent down and put them on. A slight rustling in the trees led her gaze to a pair of amber eyes staring at her. Her breath escaped her as she quickly reached for her blade sitting on top of her bag.
“What do you want?”
Her heart was beating a mile a minute. She stood to her full height again, holding her blade as her father had once taught her. He had always ensured she and her mother knew basic self-defense.
“I come in peace. I promise,” a husky voice announced from the tree line.
A tall, muscular figure stepped from shadows of the trees and branches. Amuleta’s eyes widened at the person who had been watching her. It was the chieftain’s daughter, the commander, Magoza Cydassi.
What was she doing this far out into the woods?
Amuleta automatically reached up and brushed her hair from her face. With the heat and washing clothes, she was sure she looked a mess. She swallowed hard and wondered what the commander would think of her appearance.
She blinked.
Why would that matter?
Amuleta took her time in assessing the female orc in front of her. Magoza’s dark hair was held back away from her face in intricate braids, her amber eyes wide and unblinking as she took in Amuleta. Her tunic revealed her strong muscular arms and physique, and her form-fitting trousers showcased her powerful thighs. There were twin axes resting at her waist. She was a purebred orc, with the tusks and the size to prove it. Amuleta wasn’t sure why, but her body was reacting to the feel of the orc’s gaze on her.
