Chapter 21

Chapter

Twenty-One

MIRANDA

“ A re you sure we really need permission to go to the trade? Your dad already invited me, and you said you weren’t banned or anything...” Miranda kept her voice quiet. The sunset was to her back and the massive hall was before her. The Rove Tree’s crystalline leaves glittered as the dimming sunlight burst pinks and reds all over the sky.

Govek had paused outside the doors of the hall, unwilling to touch them. He’d been warring with himself internally all day. She could see it in his quiet scowling, his bunched fists, the tight set of his shoulders that no amount of rubbing could release.

“I must ask, Miranda. I have not attended for a long time. My father may want to warn the village headman that I’ll be there.”

“Okay.” Miranda took his free hand in hers. She’d brought up a million alternatives to this already. They could sneak over to the trade without anyone noticing, or show up later before anyone could stop them, or even send a message to Oakwall’s headman themselves.Govek had shot them all down. He truly thought speaking with his father on the matter was the only option.

She sighed, wishing her gut thought this was the best option, too. “I’ll follow you.”

Govek shot her a grateful look and pushed open the door. The warmth of the hall roared over them like the smothering of a forest fire. Miranda fought for air.

But that initial anxiety gave way when no one noticed them entering. The hall was busy, but not nearly as crowded as it had been on the day of Karthoc’s announcement. Its long tables had large gaps between groups. The pots above each fire were unmanned. Miranda couldn’t tell if they were early or late, but either way, they hadn’t come at a busy time.

Govek worked hard to keep them unseen. He tucked her close to his side and shut the door gently so it wouldn’t make any noise. He kept to the perimeter, using the dark and distance from the tables as a shield.

Miranda looked past him into the room, noting that most of the orcs were laughing, chatting amicably, clearly enjoying their meal. The doors behind them opened again and the male who entered immediately called out to his friends and went to join them.

Miranda scanned pensively but thankfully Maythra didn’t appear to be there.

With how desperate the orcs had been to talk to Govek, she’d expected complete chaos the moment they crossed into the hall. It dawned on her that Govek was able to sneak in like this because he had practice .

How many times had he slunk into this hall, trying to remain unseen and avoid withering glares, while everyone else was welcomed exuberantly? How many times had he stood at the outskirts going hungry and watching others eat?

Her stomach twisted up, and she hugged his burly arm, resting her head on the firm muscle. She felt his tension ease.

“I’ll get you some food first,” Govek said quietly, moving her toward the outermost fire where an elk was set on a spit off to one side. There were carving knives below it and bowls on a small table so it could be divided out.

Miranda suspected it was the elk Govek had taken down. There were puncture wounds on its flank that she remembered. The memory of watching him get bucked around lightened her tension.

As they drew nearer it became obvious that there were deep cuts in the hide, all along the side and back, long and jagged.

“Wow, what happened to it?” Miranda asked as soon as she realized that the cuts in the meat were not meant to be there. Govek said nothing but his shoulders tensed slightly as he sliced some of the meat from the elk and placed it in a bowl for her.

It wasn’t until he turned, and she raised her brows, that he finally relented. “My father... prefers my larger kills to go to more novice butchers. It is good practice.”

Miranda wasn’t the least surprised. “Wow, seriously?” It was clear they’d tried to salvage parts of the meat, but some of the cuts had been too deep and the edges burned black.

Her stomach twisted as Govek’s expression went flat. He’d worked so dang hard to make that a clean kill, and his dad threw it to some rookie like it was garbage.

Govek finished filling her dish with roasted vegetables and fruits from another table nearby. All the ones she liked best. Her anger had dimmed by the time he handed it to her.

But then he did nothing. He just stood there. With his hand on her shoulder, and his tense frame looming, and his gold eyes flickering around the room as if waiting for someone to try to swoop in and start harassing him.

“I... need to go speak with my father now.”

“I’ll go sit over there.” Miranda pointed to one of the darker, empty sections of table. They’d talked about how he wanted to speak to his father alone.

“You should sit with the other women. No unmated orcs are allowed to approach you there.”

Miranda glanced toward the table of humans and their mates. Still no Maythra, but that didn’t mean much. She knew how most of them felt about Govek. But she also knew Govek was on a wire’s edge and having to worry about her while he was trying to concentrate on his conversation with his dad wasn’t ideal.

“I . . . uh . . . I can take her over.”

The meek voice caused them both to jump and spin around. Beleda stood there, half hidden behind a tense orc Miranda hadn’t met yet. The orc was slender and short, with intricate braids along his scalp.

Govek’s grip on her shoulder tightened, looking hard at the orc Beleda clung to. “Tayveth.”

The male orc’s dark green eyes only narrowed slightly.

Oh, for crying out loud. This guy wanted to fight? Govek would flatten him.

And it wasn’t the best idea. Their low profile had been destroyed by Beleda’s address and most people in the hall were now looking in their direction, craning around each other to watch. Some were even getting to their feet.

So much for hiding in the corner.

“Miranda, it’s good to see you again,” Beleda said, her voice shaking a little.

“It’s good to see you too, Beleda,” Miranda said, glancing at the angry orc behind her.

Beleda hurried on. “This is my mate, Tayveth. We’re all eager to meet you. Would you like to eat with us?”

She heard Govek gulp.

To help ease the tension, Miranda turned to Govek, stroking down his cheek. “I’ll be all right with her.” She carried her touch down to his chest and gave a little shove. “The faster you have your convo, the faster we can go home.”

Govek’s jaw worked, and his eyes flashed from hers to Tayveth’s.

Miranda hooked a finger into the collar of his shirt and pulled him down to whisper. “Dude, you’d eviscerate that guy. He’s got the muscles of a toddler. I could take him for crying out loud. Ain’t no way I’m leaving this”—she stroked Govek’s bulging bicep—“for that twig.”

Govek’s heated chuckle shot triumph down Miranda’s spine and forced her to grin, helplessly. He buried his face in her hair a moment, nuzzling the top of her head. “Fuck, woman. You and your comparisons.”

He released her and addressed an angry looking Tayveth. Clearly, he’d heard Miranda’s insult, but thankfully Beleda hadn’t. “Keep her safe.”

Tayveth snorted. “As if I’m the one?—”

“We will,” Beleda quickly interrupted, putting a hand on her mate. The male huffed but relented.

Miranda watched pensively as Govek moved off toward his father’s platform.

He’d be gone for a couple minutes. Nothing bad could happen in a couple minutes.

And Maythra wasn’t here. It would be fine.

“Come this way, Miranda,” Beleda said, gesturing for her to follow. Miranda tried not to get all antsy about the way Tayveth followed close behind her, as if he were herding her along. “We’ve been hoping you would join us for a while. We wanted to see how you are, uh... settling in.”

“I’m settling in great,” Miranda assured them. “Govek has been treating me really well.”

“Of course,” Beleda said with a light smile just as they arrived at the table. As they did, all the orcs got up and went to sit elsewhere.

“Oh, they—they don’t have to leave on my account,” Miranda said, even as they were already gone.

Beleda fidgeted. “It’s not you, it’s...” She glanced toward where Govek stood. He’d paused half way to the platform and was watching.

Ah. Miranda understood then. None of these guys wanted to get into a punching match.

“Sit down here by me,” Beleda said, gesturing Miranda to one of the bench seats. “Let me introduce everyone.”

There were ten women seated at the table, and every one of them had the same expression on their face—pale shock and brow-pinched pity. Two-thirds of them were younger, around her age, and the rest were much older. She realized that all the middle-aged women were probably with their children at the seasonal communion.

Beleda rattled off their names so fast Miranda’s head spun.

“I swear I’ll try really hard to remember all of your names.” Miranda cast them a smile that she hoped didn’t reveal how tense she was.

One of the older women chuckled. “Just call everyone dear. That’s what I do.”

“You saying you don’t remember my name, Glenna?” another elderly woman replied.

“I have better use for my memory, dear ,” Glenna teased, but then she looked at Miranda. “I’ll remember your name, though.” Miranda tensed as she finished. “Miranda is an odd one.”

“I hope odd isn’t bad.”

“Certainly not,” one of the younger women, Renni, said. She had cropped short black hair and very dark brown eyes. “In fact, it’s better. Adds variety.”

“And it is very pretty,” the woman on her opposite, Aviah, said. She had tanned skin and large brown eyes and a smooth voice. “Is it a family name?”

“Oh, uh. I’m not sure,” Miranda said. “My family died when I was little.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Glenna said with genuine concern.

“It’s okay,” Miranda assured them. “I was only three. I barely remember it.”

“Well, we’re happy to be your family now. I am Hilva. It’s an easy one, so I am sure you will remember,” the youngest at the table said. Her sharp, pale eyes kept shifting to an orc at the opposite table and Miranda assumed he was her mate.

“Thank you for the welcome, Hilva,” Miranda said carefully, uncertain about the inflection the young blonde woman had used. To test it, she continued, “Govek has made me feel like family already.”

Hilva’s expression pinched, confirming Miranda’s suspicion.

Beleda quickly changed the subject. “Are you coming with us to the trade tomorrow?”

“Uh, yeah, I think so. Govek is telling the chief now,” Miranda replied absently as an orc approached Hilva and whispered something in her ear that made the girl gasp.

“Do you mean... Govek isn’t coming too, is he?” one of the other women asked, drawing her attention away.

All eyes were suddenly on her, and the whispering stopped.

“That’s the plan,” Miranda said quietly.

Murmurs shot up from the adjoining tables, but before the women could do anything but gasp, Beleda said, “Oakwall will be glad to trade with Govek again. He typically takes hunting requests. I’ve heard a few people talk about missing them.”

Miranda’s tension eased slightly at that, even though Hilva was back to whispering.

“In fact, if you want, Govek could linger behind and I could be a guide to you. Show you where the best wares are. Then you could take the hunting orders back to him when we return from the trade,” Beleda offered.

“That’s a fine idea,” Aviah said with a relieved smile.

“Oh, uh, no. I don’t think—” Miranda glanced between Hilva, who had just spouted something like “we have to tell her,” and Beleda, who was now rigid.

Miranda had enough.

“Look, either tell me what you’re whispering about or knock it off.”

Hilva did not hesitate, thank god, “He lied to you.”

“Hilva!” Beleda cut in.

“He did!” Hilva said, her cheeks reddening. “We’re really going to just let him get away with it?”

“It isn’t our place to interfere.”

“Welp, ladies, that ship has sailed. You’ve interfered,” Miranda said. “So, you’d better get on with spilling the rest of those beans.”

The women looked between each other, clearly not quite understanding.

“Just tell me.”

Finally, Beleda sighed and spoke up. “He told you that a butcher cut that meat.”

It took Miranda a second to realize what they were talking about. They meant the elk. “Okay, go on.”

“The butchers would never do such horrible work. The meat came to them like that. Already cut up.”

“What are you saying?” Miranda went cold as the other women avoided her gaze.

Hilva rose to her feet, skewering Miranda with her sharp, angry eyes. Her voice rose high enough to echo off the crystalline leaves of the Great Rove Tree, raining poison down around them all as she said.

“Govek caused those marks. He tortures animals as he kills them.”