Chapter 21

The howl of the new whelp fills my ears. I sit up in the tiny chair at the dining room table, watching for any sign of what’s happening in the room.

I worry about Vavi as much as I worry about Simka. If her sister were to die, she may never be the same again, and Gorren will certainly take more drastic measures in his grief—if the bond doesn’t take him first.

Finally, against my better judgment I peer into the room.

“Try to feed him,” Masha is saying to Vavi, showing her how to latch the baby on. “It will help with the bleeding.” But Vavi is too weak, and she falls back against the bed.

Simka holds the whelp, who continues to wail. Her father is crouched over them both, as if protecting them from the world. He cleans the newborn, rinsing off the coating of blood and creamy detritus. The whelp is much too small, even for a human. I hope it lives, or all of us will suffer Gorren’s wrath.

The midwife finally stands, wiping sweat from her forehead.

“She has a chance at surviving this,” she says to Simka and her father. “Let me see him.” She checks the whelp over, and sighs. “It was too early. He will struggle.” She starts barking orders at us. Simka fetches towels, I search for a basket, and Simka’s father locates goat’s milk. The midwife brings out a soft nipple made of leather and fills it with the milk, and instructs Simka how to put it in the baby’s mouth.

I expected Vavi to die after losing so much blood on our long journey. Though her breaths are shallow and uneven, her chest continues rising and falling, and I have hope that I’ll be wrong. The infant suckles, then stops and cries again. Simka holds it close, rocking it back and forth, and I kneel down beside her to look.

Human. It’s odd, but I’ve seen many strange things in my time. My former captain gave birth to an orc whelp herself. This creature is soft and tiny, helpless and fragile, but as Simka cradles it, I imagine her someday holding one of our own. I put my hands on her shoulders and bracket her head between my tusks, giving her a gentle kiss on her crown.

When it seems as if Vavi is stable again, the exhausted midwife performs one last check of the baby, and leaves us with detailed instructions. She will return soon to attend to him, but he’ll need special care, and she has many ingredients she’ll need to fetch from Morgenzan for mother and child. But the way will be treacherous, and everyone fears the wild orcs.

“Go with her, troll,” Simka’s father snaps. “You will protect her and make sure she gets what she needs. It’s nighttime, and there are wolves out there. Whatever is happening here…” He gestures at Simka, and then at me. “It will not go on in my house.”

It’s disappointing, but I expected this. Will he let Vavi return to the orc camp? What will Gorren do when his mate and offspring don’t come back?

I think of the huge orc’s fury and shudder. If he attacks in order to find Vavi, this village will not survive.

Before I go, Simka stops me at the front door. Her father glares but doesn’t intervene as we whisper to each other.

“You must convince him to let us go back to the mountain,” I tell her. “He doesn’t want to risk what will happen when Gorren comes looking for his mate and whelp.”

Simka shudders. “Dad won’t let her go.”

“I know. But he has to. I will try to convince him when I return.”

Suddenly Simka has her arms wrapped around me, her face pressed into my chest. “Thank you,” she whispers, drying her tears on my blood-soaked clothes. “Thank you for making sure my sister lives. Come back to me.”

I smile down at her. “I will always come back for you. No matter where you go, you’re stuck with me.”

She lets out a tremulous laugh, and rubs the blunt end of my broken tusk once, as if for good luck, before slipping back into the house.

* * *