Chapter 26

PALOMA

“Ifinished checking the traps like Sendra showed me,” I tell Ossa when I return to camp. Ossa had assigned Sendra to walk me through the process of setting, checking, and the gross part of clearing the traps of whatever game they caught. The orcs waste nothing. They eat whatever game they catch and use the furs and bones when possible.

For the past week, I’ve eaten a different meat each night, always praying it wouldn’t disagree with human physiology. So far, no issues, except the lack of vegetables in the orc diet.

“I need vegetables. There are a variety of herbs and roots that are safe for humans on Kovos but I haven’t found any of them growing near Mount Racha. I need to search farther out. I’ll start a garden once I procure the plants.”

“Not until Atox returns. He will send a warrior with you.”

“I don’t need a guard. I mean, you and the other women don’t have guards when you leave camp.”

Ossa draws her axe and a knife. “I know how to use these to defend myself against the animals here. Do you?”

She has a point.

“Then teach me how to defend myself.”

“No.”

“You’re as stubborn as your brother.”

She flashes those tusks which aren’t as large as a male orc’s but still quite scary if you can’t distinguish anger from amusement in an orc. The two expressions look similar, but I’ve come to know Ossa. More or less.

“And you’re a human,” she adds.

“Nope.” I sport a wide grin. “Atox says I’m orc now.”

“Ha! That only proves our grak is losing his mind!”

“Our grak. See? You admit it. I’m one of you now.”

Ossa hitches an eyebrow. “You are as clever as Atox says.”

“Atox says I’m clever?” I smile, pleased by the compliment. I sometimes wonder what he truly thinks of me. Oh, the sex is good, amazing, actually, but he didn’t talk much when he was last here three days ago. I fear I stirred up too many bad memories for him by asking about his father.

“He likes you, Pawloma. At least what you give him in his furs.” Ossa grins, outdoing me because of her tusks.

“I think I’ve angered him. He’s been quiet.”

“I’ve heard the noise in the tunnels. He and you, human, are not quiet.” Ossa stares at me. “Are you ill? Your skin is turning red.”

“Embarrassed. I didn’t think anyone could hear us.”

Ossa is easy enough to talk to, now that I have the language chip, but we’re not sisters-in-law. There’s an orc ceremony which Atox and I need to perform before the other orcs consider us mated. Maybe after the ritual, Ossa will see me as more than the female her brother is banging.

“A female should take pride in pleasing her male.”

I really need to change the direction of this conversation. “Do you know what’s bothering him? He says he was leaving to check in with various patrols and warriors he stationed in other areas outside orc territory, but I fear there’s more to his leaving.”

“Sojek,” she answers. “And Narzik, our father.”

“Atox apologized to Sojek. I know it doesn’t change what happened, but he regrets it.”

Ossa nods. “You are right. It changes nothing. Atox will not forget our grak. Narzik was a wicked orc. Killed our mother when she tried to protect Atox. He was ten seasons when our grak gave him a particularly nasty beating. I was sixteen and locked in my rooms for disobeying our grak. He never touched me or our youngest brother, Baxen. Only Atox, because Atox was the male who would be grak one day.”

“And now he fears turning into him.”

“I was angry with you when Atox cut Sojek. I thought...” Ossa’s eyes catch mine. “I thought you caused Atox to cut Sojek. I should have known it was the legacy of our grak surfacing. Atox finds it easier to ignore the past than confront it. He won’t listen to me when it comes to our father. I am only his sister.”

“Then I’ll have to make him listen to me.”

“I wish you good fortune, Pawloma.”

I like how she continues to try to perfect the pronunciation of my name.

“Have you looked east, along the river? The topography is different, and it’s mostly smaller game there,” Ossa says. “The river is heavily patrolled but take a knife as you never know when you will need it. Someone once sent a device down the river.”

“Device? What did it do?”

“Nothing. Atox destroyed it. He suspects it was a weapon, or a device for spying. Since then, he keeps more patrols in that area. If you run into danger, yell and the warriors should hear you.”

“I’ll do that. And now that I can finally talk to you, can you tell me where to find the clothing I wore here? And I had a pack with me, but Verig took it from me on the ride here.”

My birth control pills are in that pack. I’m not sure if I’ll use them. I want kids; I always have. Getting pregnant by Atox… Weeks ago, the idea horrified me. Now it makes me smile. Regardless, I’d like my belongings. The picture of Mom and my sisters. The wooden dove Renata carved for me, and the extra set of underwear which will be particularly useful for when I clear the traps. I feel as I’m flashing the world when I bend over, even when no one is around.

“All of your belongings are in storage. I will have Evve bring them to your chamber.”

I nod my thanks and head toward the river. The topography transitions to less wooded and more open areas, almost like the terrain my colony farms.

When I find a small patch of fevula lettuce, I do a happy dance. The leaves of the local lettuce are long and flat like romaine, but softer, like bibb lettuce, despite having a deep purple hue. This is perfect for salads. If I can find a jiv tree, then I’ll have fruits to eat and press into a dressing.

After searching for another hour, without any additional finds, I take a break by the river and sit back, listening to the rushing water. It’s relaxing here. The sun’s shining bright and a cool breeze sifts through the trees. The area reminds me of Earth. With the exception of a reddish-brown soil and trees that have two tree trunks winding around each other like vines climbing a trellis. I like the mountains better than the plains where my people settled and I don’t miss farming.

Now that I’m getting to know Atox, I can picture myself living here. I no longer care that my father and the councilmen sold me, though I’ll never forgive them for the betrayal. For the first time since I arrived on Kovos, maybe even before, I’m happy.

As for my sisters, I’ll find a way to see them. Eventually, they’ll have their turn selling our colony’s produce and wares at Pen’Kesh. I’ll ask Sojek to keep watch for them, and when I learn it’s their turn to man the tables, I’ll make the trek in with him.

When I hear voices nearby, I freeze, wondering how far I am from camp. I haven’t learned the boundaries yet but based on a discussion with one of the women yesterday, I had the impression I could walk for hours and still be in orc territory.

Across the river and farther down, two warriors fill their flasks with water. I relax, realizing it’s only a patrol.

“Hi,” I call out in English, forgetting I have to make a mental switch in order to speak Orcan.

“It’s the human,” one of the warriors says in Orcan as he nods in my direction, acknowledging my presence. “She finally found her way out of the tunnels without having to follow Zendar,” he says to his companion, laughing. “Our grak should have chosen from a brighter species.”

The warriors don’t know I have a language chip and can understand them speaking in Orcan. But their sentiment is nothing new. Not all the orcs have accepted me. It will take time. At least no one is giving me any trouble.

“You are too judgmental, Selek. The humans need time to adjust. I, for one, want a female of my own, even a human. You do not know what sharing a cave with Garal is like. A female, however…”

“We have a while before we get females, Urik. First, Atox’s female must conceive.”

Urik caps his water flask. “And if this human doesn’t? Then we have to wait for Atox to take the moxxel female waiting for him. They are even uglier than the humans.”

The truth slams into me like a tidal wave. I can barely breathe as my whole world crashes down on me all over again, except this time from the male I’ve come to admire and… love.

No, I can’t love someone who would discard me if I can’t conceive. But that’s exactly what the warriors said.

ATOX IM GRAK

I returnto camp after another long day of negotiations with the humans. They are eager for more warriors to guard their borders and for us to train their men. My warriors are already spread thin protecting my people and territory. While the humans have females they plan to give us in exchange, I won’t take any more until I have proof that humans and orcs can produce offspring.

Orcs are larger than humans, and our offspring might be too large for a human female to carry. Will my female survive the birth of a youngling? I could lose both the youngling and her. This worry plagues me each time I release inside her.

A fear I’ve never known strikes me so hard I lean against the tunnel wall inside my mountain, stunned by the emotion. Not even when my father killed my mother did I experience such fear.

The thought of losing Paloma… I grind my tusks. I cannot think like this. Not about her. And yet I cannot ignore the possibility. The very outcome I’ve sought all this time, to have her bear my youngling, may kill her.

I promised I’d always protect her and yet I must find a way to grow our numbers, or we will die out as a species. I must use my own female, a female I’ve come to care about, to test what is possible.

May the gods help me, I am no better than the cendagi who experiment on people.

Or my father, who’d use a female for his needs, regardless of the risk to her.

My people or my female. I must choose, but I cannot.

I enter my bedchamber, eager to hold my female and feel her soft body beneath mine as I slide into her. When I push the door open, darkness and the smell of stale air greet me. I turn on the light to confirm what I already know. She hasn’t been in our quarters for hours despite the late hour.

“My female, Daelix. Is she in the tunnels?” I ask the guard I posted at the main entrance. I still had no answers as to why a herd of yengas stampeded the base of the mountain where dozens of my people work. Yengas roam the forests and plains mostly, instinctively avoiding mountains and canyons, areas where they could be trapped.

“She entered with Ossa, Grak.”

Hearing that my female is with Ossa calms my fraying nerves. My sister is one of many who did not like the idea of sullying our race with outsiders, but she won’t defy me. My orcs understand if we are to survive as a species we need females. We will no longer be pure orcs, but we will teach each generation our ways. We live as orcs—be orcs—even if we no longer fully look orc.

The sound of younglings playing and laughing increases as I descend to the lower levels where families live. Unmated warriors occupy the upper levels, serving as the last barrier, defending our females and younglings, our most precious resources, against invaders. Not that any invader should breech our other perimeters.

But the yenga did.

The laughter of younglings is a sound I don’t hear often. My work often takes me far from camp. There are far too few younglings among us and we keep them close to the mountain for the same reason they sleep in the lowest levels. Protection.

It makes me wonder if I should take a chamber on a lower level now that I have a female. Except a grak’s place is always with his warriors.

How long before my female grows large and round with my youngling? What if she doesn’t conceive? What if she does, and it kills her?

“Ossa?” I call out as I pound on the door to her chambers. She has one of the larger chambers since she has three younglings.

The door opens. Little Evve, only eight seasons, and so striking, answers. One of the last pure orc females born to our people. My own younglings may not carry the same beautiful ridges on her forehead or look up at me with such hypnotic green eyes.

“Uncle grak, why are you here?”

“Evve,” her mother chides. “Don’t be rude. Invite your grak in.”

“Uncle grak,” Evve corrects her mother.

I hear a laugh somewhere to the back of the chamber. The breath I draw fills my nostrils with the scent of my female, both calming and arousing me. I push any thoughts of bedding her aside for now, given Evve’s presence. While public sex is common among orcs, we avoid areas where younglings are present.

“I came for my female,” I announce.

“You haven’t entered our chambers in over two years,” Ossa scorns. “Evve has given up on rides, Duvik no longer practices his knife skills, and Sojek says little because he thinks you detest him. Add to that the marks you left on his face, and?—”

I hold up my hand. My sister wields guilt as a weapon, a very sharp one. I have an entire settlement to oversee. These are not my younglings, they are hers. I love them, but I cannot favor them over others.

“You know why, Ossa.”

“He’s dead. As is their father. You’re not.”

“Who’s dead?” my female asks as she steps into the main chamber from Evve’s room.

“Why are you here?” I find it easier to ask questions than answer them. And being grak affords me that privilege.

“Because I no longer wish to be with you,” Paloma says, her face stern. I’ve learned my female’s expressions. First, anger and fear, and later empathy, approval, and lust. This expression, one of contempt, I have not seen in a while.

“You’re my mate. Why do you not want to be with me?”

“I’m your mate, but for how long?” Tears gather in the corners of her eyes.

“Do not speak in riddles, female.”

“I heard your warriors talking. They said if I don’t conceive, you’ll go to the moxxels next and get a woman from there. One that has already been chosen and is waiting for you. Is that true?”

Behind me, Ossa curses under her breath.

“I’ve told you why we need females.”

“Will you discard me if I can’t conceive, Atox? That’s not something a man does if he cares about his mate. I thought we’d grown closer, that we’d come to know and respect one another. But I was wrong. You don’t care about me, only whether I can give you kids. We don’t know each other at all, Grak.”

By calling me grak, she’s creating distance between us, and I don’t like it, not at all. “You don’t have all the information,” I say. Sharing details with a female is not something warriors do, but my female thrives on knowing my plans. I must be careful what I say to her, especially here with Ossa and younglings present.

“Are you telling me what I heard was wrong?”

“You heard correctly. That was the plan, but no longer. Not fully.”

“What’s changed? What is your plan now?”

“Do you expect me to tell you every strategy I have?”

“Yes.”

“I’d be a fool of a grak.”

“Then just tell me I’m wrong, Grak. That you want me for more than my ability to give you children. That you don’t plan to get a woman from the moxxels if I can’t have a kid with you.”

“I must help my people survive, and that will not happen without women who are compatible.”

She stumbles back, gripping the wall for balance. “I’m another tool for your use, like your sword or your knives.”

I’ve begun to think of her as more, but challenging me like this in front of others, even if only Ossa and her younglings, compromises my position and effectiveness as grak.

“Tell me, female, how am I to rule with no younglings to train to defend us? Warriors grow old and weak with time and new warriors must take their place.”

“I get that you need women because you have so few, but to discard someone because she can’t conceive… It’s barbaric. You’re barbaric!”

Too many times, humans and other species in Pen’Kesh taunt my people, calling us filthy animals, saying we are barbaric. We are none of these and I always ignore the insults because they come from beings inferior to orcs. Hearing my female call me these names brings out a rage in me I did not know existed.

I step forward, towering over my female, and in a low voice say, “Do you know how to defend against the enemy, how to plan an attack, how to negotiate without giving up your advantages? How to fight off those who would destroy your people? Tell me, female. What do you know? Do you know anything that will save my people other than the plan I’ve devised?”

“I know none of those things, but I have value, more than giving birth to kids. I can cook, clean, farm, tend to animals…. And I’m willing to learn and do whatever it takes to help others, but I won’t be treated as if my only value is in my reproductive organs. If you can’t see that, then you are not the grak I believed you to be.”

“As grak it is my duty to do whatever is necessary to protect my people, human,” I snap back, realizing too late I’ve made this about her species instead of the true issue.

I don’t want to lose her.

“Yes, your people. How quickly I’m back to being just the human again. I’ll never be orc in your eyes, never be what you want or need.” Her hands clench at her sides. “I don’t belong here and we both know it. Go get your moxxel baby maker, Grak, so I can leave and get on with my life.”

“You are not leaving. Especially now that you could be carrying my youngling.”

“I’m not. My cycle started. Which is just as well because I don’t want to have a baby with a man who doesn’t see me as a person.”

“Pawloma is right,” Ossa says. “You cannot discard her based on her ability to have younglings. No female deserves that. Even a human. You took a risk in choosing her, and now you must accept the outcome, no matter what it is. Casting her aside and taking another mate in her place… that is something Narzik im Grak would do.”

I growl. Loud enough that little Evve steps back and Ossa moves in front of Duvik, shielding him from me in a way that reminds me of when my mother shielded me from our father.

And lost her life.

Narzik im Grak.

Narzik the Cruel.

Narzik the father… mate… murderer of innocents.

I need to get out of here before the evil that comes from my father surfaces. Without a word, I storm out of the chamber and barrel through the tunnels at an unsafe rate given some of the narrow passages. Stone scrapes my left shoulder and arm, but I don’t feel any pain, except in my heart.

Paloma. This female, this human… I poured all my energy and hope into her and she still wishes to leave me.

Because she sees me as Ossa does. A younger Narzik who would use, punish, and slay without conscience.

The moment I emerge from the mountain, I release a growl so fierce the animals flee into the woods. Daelix draws his sword looking for the danger he assumes I’ve spotted. He doesn’t realize the danger isn’t in the darkness surrounding us, but the darkness of my heart.