2. Kharag

"Another round, please," I said, and the din of the patrons fell away. It was just me, my hound, and the bartender. I listened to the sounds of the tavern—the clinking of mugs, the boisterous laughter, and drunken singing.

The ale was bitter and hearty, but not overpowering. It was the strong, earthy smell of barley and hops. Each drink I"ve ever had was the same—not enough to get drunk, but enough to fill my belly.

The tavern smelled of sweat and piss, and stale ale, but it was bearable. Some men pushed it too far by relieving themselves in the corner, but the large beast would eat their hands if they tried to relieve themselves near me.

My hound and prize stud, Nuar, a scaled beast with horns and smoke coming from his nostrils on the exhale, snored at my feet. Not exactly showing why we bred him to all the bitches, but he was tired from the journey here, as was I. But he trusted me enough to sleep, though I had no doubt he'd be awake in a second if he sensed any threat.

I hated being stuck in this town for longer than necessary, but the auction had been delayed a couple of days to allow for a new girl to be added. She was the chief topic of conversation around the fire, with the inn's guest ranks swelling at word of a fire-headed female up for auction. She was a rare prize indeed and would command a higher entry fee. The delay would eat up some of the participants' available funds at the inn for their stay and food, so maybe that would narrow the field.

I didn't care if she was fire-headed or golden or raven-haired, as long as I could find myself a mate for the long winter season to come. I was tired of being alone and didn't want to risk trial by combat in the Orc King's tournaments, not that I could afford the exorbitant entry fees there. This wasn't my first auction, and I'd been passed over every time before, since there were always more males than females and I wasn't exactly the most attractive orc out there with a scarred face and broken tusk that turned off most females. Life as a mercenary brought in good money for my clan, but was hard on a male's body. Now I was older than the much younger orcs, including the young lordling who was holding court by the fire, who probably never saw a day's work in his life. If the females wanted a pretty face and fancy manners, well, I'd lose again.

This would be my last year. I wouldn't put myself through this agony again. I was getting too old for this, too tired of the disappointment. I wanted orclings, a family of my own, but the gods had something else in mind for me. I was done with being a mercenary, heading home to my clan to take up my role as clan leader. But I needed a mate to complete my life and role.

A mug of ale slammed down in across from me and a large shape obliterated the view of the orc lord and his court. My hound, familiar with Jarrus, barely twitched. Lazy bastard.

"You're not with your kind?" Like I fit in with an orc lord. Not likely.

A huge bull of a minotaur, Jarrus, sat on the bench across from me, the wood creaking under his weight. I glared at him. "You're not with yours."

Jarrus was a mercenary like me, and we often together and partied together while battling for various factions. He was one of my closest brothers, despite being of another species. I would trust him with my back. He was honorable and a true friend. I would miss him once we went our separate ways. His herd wasn't far from my clan and our groups had ties to help each other, especially since my clan had fled the Orc King's lands to save ourselves years before. We needed all the allies we could find.

Jarrus settled more fully and shrugged. "I was with them. Now I'm with you. You going to the auction tomorrow?"

I nodded. "Not sure why I bother. Not as many females this time. May not be worth wasting my coin. You?"

Jarrus looked morose. "I saw the women at the showing today. None of them looks sturdy enough for me. Most seemed terrified. A couple seemed intrigued by me but…"

We stared into the fire in shared sympathy. Jarrus had his own struggles. Few females were able to handle a minotaur without training and true desire to do so. Most females tended to avoid them, though there were some who wanted to try but often couldn't. When a minotaur mated, it was for life and, if the physical side couldn't manifest, the male minotaur was doomed to not find another chance with another mate. He had to be sure of his choice. And with few minotaur females, other races were their only hope. Which was why their race, like so many others, was fading. Human females were their best hope for success.

Like me, Jarrus had been alone for a long time, both of us often traveling together to the auction and leaving alone. I feared for the minotaur, that he could not last much longer alone, but a mate might not be in this season's auction for either of us. Nuar shifted and groaned, then let out a fart that smelled like sulfur. Jarrus and I groaned.

"This is my last auction," I stated quietly. "I'll head home to my clan now that my fighting days are over. Devote myself to training the young who need it." I might or might not be a clan leader if I could not find a mate.

Jarrus grunted. "You never know. This could be your season."

Loud, raucous laughter drew our attention from the fire, and Nuar jerked awake. The young orc lord was dressed much finer than me or Jarrus, with fine spun fabric and rich cloth the likes of which were not often seen in a border town like this. Even his guards were better dressed than us.

"What female would choose me over him? Better I save my coin and buy land or stock for my farm and clan, help us survive against the winter and the Orc King. There aren't enough women for both of us."

"So why stay?"

I gestured for another ale and some food, and soothed the beast with a few long strokes until he settled. "You suck at pep talks. We need more females in my clan. We only have three, and we need more young to keep the clan going. We're small and most of our males are too young or too old. Between warring with other clans and lack of females, our males are leaving or dying. And since we live outside the Orc King"s lands, we're vulnerable. As new clan leader, I need a female and orclings to carry on the line."

"How can this be your last year, then?"

"I'll give up leadership to one of the younger orcs, let them enter the auction in the spring. It's my duty, if I cannot carry out my role."

We sat in quiet for a moment, drinking our ale. Jarrus looked morosely into his mug, and I shifted Nuar's head off of my lap to stand. He groaned and stretched, then let out a loud belch that echoed down the length of the bar. The barmaid brought us two more mugs of ale and swung away to serve others.

"You know," Jarrus said at last, "you can always make the best of this. You don't have to feel helpless. You could offer some services in return for a female companion—take care of her needs and provide security and a home in exchange for her loyalty and fidelity."

I took a swig of ale and stared out the window at the setting sun. "I could... but it wouldn't be enough. To do that, I would have to give up my duty as clan leader—if not in name, then in spirit—and I can't do that without knowing who is going to take my place beforehand. Someone has to guide the younger orcs into manhood, train them in battle tactics, teach them our ways so one day they can succeed as clan leader someday...it must be done if our clan is going to survive. But where will we find someone who is willing? Who will have both strength and intelligence? Orcs are not easy creatures to control—too wild at times or too dull when afraid; it needs someone with true courage that can inspire them like my father did when he first became leader."

Jarrus huffed, shaking his horned head, the fur settling around him. "Our clan is losing members, too. Fading into history as our numbers dwindle and birth rates are low. I worry that, if I don't succeed this season, I'll have to divert any of my funds to another, younger minotaur next season."

I studied him morosely. "What will happen to you without a mate?"

"Plenty of minotaurs have survived without a mate. It's not easy, but survivable. As long as I don't find a female to whom I could bond. Which is why I am considering not joining the auction tomorrow. If I don't expose myself to females, a bond won't manifest and I won't be vulnerable."

I stared at the fire. "Then we both have every reason not to attend tomorrow."

"And yet, we'll both be there."