Chapter 3

Chapter

Three

GOVEK

“ I cannot believe you stole that woman.”

Rogeth’s clipped tone punctured Govek’s thoughts and had him curling his claws to hide them, pulling his lower jaw higher to conceal his teeth. The ache of this effort throbbed in his jaw like an old, bitter enemy returned to mock him.

Every step he took away from Miranda made Govek want to turn back. Like a tether hooked deep in his chest, pulling him toward her, growing tauter with every step.

“Chief Ergoth is going to be furious. What about the other women? Did you abandon them somewhere? Or did you never go to fetch them at all?”

Govek maintained his silence. There was no point in arguing. No one would believe his words. It wasn’t worth the energy. He wanted to concentrate on addressing his father and then get back to Miranda as quickly as possible.

“You know how precious those women are to us. With only Oakwall for conquests, how could you not...”

Govek turned his attention away from the male’s irritating blather and looked off into the woods. He and Miranda being found changed nothing, really. Gathering supplies might be more of a challenge with the clan breathing down his neck, but he and Miranda would still leave in two days’ time. They would still go to Karthoc. He would explain this to his father now and all here would be glad to see him gone.

A breeze picked up in the autumn trees, raining leaves down onto the path before them. The trees swayed and moaned, and for one shuddering moment, Govek was struck with the gut driven urge to remain in Rove Wood. To return to the goblin mines with Miranda and take their chances weathering the winter, just so he would not have to leave this place.

He may not have been well blessed by the Fades, but he was still one of their creations. And their Great Tree beckoned him just as it did all orcs.

Govek took another deep breath and froze.

“Is Warlord Karthoc here?”

Rogeth faltered in his step.

Govek released his jaw to scent the air. The pungent odor of orc warriors wafted in on the breeze, growing thicker with every gust. Blood and sweat and thick oiled leather.

Govek turned on his heel and walked toward it.

“Govek, stop! I order you to?—”

“You what ?” Govek shot the male a withering look. Although he was universally disliked among the clan, although their opinions of him were wretched and he avoided them like the blight, none of them had ever dared to order him to do something.

He was the chief’s son after all. Born from the blood of Rove Wood’s leader, Ergoth and his beloved mate, Corine.

Corine, who was blessed to carry and raise a prodigy like Tavggol for six blissful years.

Then cursed with the horror of giving birth to Govek. And that bliss ended.

Because of him.

His body shuddered and his fists clenched until his claws cut deep and his guts churned up as he pushed that pressing truth to the back of his mind.

Being born was his first crime, and there was nothing he could do to undo it.

He was an outcast before anything else. Had always been an outcast and would always be. At least in this clan.

Govek turned away from Rogeth’s stunned expression and began to march toward the warrior camp he’d scented.

“I-It is your responsibility to report to the chief immediately upon your arrival to Rove Wood,” Rogeth argued, following behind, though he made no move to stop Govek by force.

“I am to report to the highest authority in the clan. That is my cousin. Or are you trying to argue that Chief Ergoth is above our warlord?”

Rogeth scowled, unable to argue with that logic. “I’ll be going to the hall. Expect our chief to join you.”

Govek snorted. He expected nothing less.

He continued on the trail, following the scent of the orcs to the western most point of Rove Wood Clan. The smoke from their fires grew thick and he could hear their voices on the wind long before he saw the first beige leather tops of their tents.

Karthoc’s warriors were well accustomed to making camp. They traveled often to aid anywhere orcs were being threatened or attacked by the Waking Order. Many clans outside Rove Wood had been razed, and many lives had been lost but the horrors would have been far worse without Karthoc’s strong leadership and cunning battle strategies.

Govek had always been in awe of his cousin’s vigor. He hoped he would not prove to be a burden to the warlord after he joined Baelrok Forge.

As he entered the camp, many of the warriors—burly males, thick with muscle and covered in scars—were busy pitching tents and building fires. Their sharp rows of teeth were on full display and Govek was tempted to uncover his own. Warriors did not abide by the tradition of hiding one’s more dangerous attributes.

But Govek was not a warrior, so he kept his jaw tucked up.

Most of them looked up as he passed. A few offered him a nod in greeting, but none approached, save one.

Brovdir.

Govek’s younger cousin looked well but for the many pale-green scars along his hide. The male was nearly as tall as Govek, but leaner and swifter. He was one of Karthoc’s fiercest but bore the title with little arrogance.

Of course, it was hard to boast about one’s accomplishments when you could barely speak. Brovdir had suffered a horrible wound across his neck in his youth that had cut through his ability to talk. His raspy voice grew tired after a few words.

So, when the male greeted him with no more than a strong pat to the back and a nod, Govek did not urge him for chatter. “Brovdir, I am glad to see you looking well. Can you take me to the warlord?”

Brovdir nodded and guided Govek through the camp. He recognized a few of the orcs from his travel to Clairton, but was glad they all turned back to their duties without wanting to speak.

“How long have you been here?”

“This afternoon,” Brovdir replied raggedly.

So soon. What were the odds? Govek wondered if the Fades were smiling on him after all. Traveling with a band of fifty orc warriors would be far safer for Miranda.

Brovdir whistled shrill just as Govek saw Karthoc up ahead. His cousin was chatting with another warrior and looked up. His deep scowl and square features were striking, even in the growing twilight.

Then his dark eyes widened as he saw Govek, and he let out a laugh that struck Govek a little dumb. Karthoc stormed over as Brovdir, patted his shoulder, nodded, and returned to the camp. To an area where a few burly orcs were placing logs into a large circle.

“Govek! Fades be all.” Karthoc clapped Govek hard across the back. “Chief Ergoth told me you’d gone to get women from Estwill, of all vile places. What the fuck were you even thinking ? How did you make it out of there unscathed?”

“I never went. I knew it was folly to even try.”

“Of course, you did. No kin of mine would be stupid enough to try to break through Estwill without a full legion,” Karthoc said with a shake of Govek’s shoulder. His grin was wide enough to split his face clean in half.

Miranda’s opinion of leaving one’s teeth uncovered rang in his mind.

“Honestly, you look way better with your jaw in the right spot.”

His gut warmed, and he lowered his jaw back into the right place.

“Come, let’s share a meal. We caught so many fish in your springs our blood will smell of it before our time in these woods is done.”

Karthoc kept a firm grip on Govek’s shoulder as he guided him toward the large bonfire at the center of the camp.

“What are they doing?” Govek asked, watching as Brovdir carried a massive fallen log out of the woods. The ground shook with the weight as he dropped it into the circle. Others came to help shear off the remaining limbs with their claws and smooth it out, so no sharp edges were visible.

“Building a challenge arena.” Karthoc said casually, and Govek was struck once again by the differences between Rove Wood and all other orc clans.

“Have you ever been challenged?” Karthoc asked, dark green brows raised, and Govek shook his head. “What the fuck does Ergoth even do when there is strife among his males?”

“Judgments,” Govek said, unable to keep the bitterness from his tone.

“Judgments,” Karthoc muttered. “That’s right. You haven’t been in one recently, have you?”

Govek’s brow furrowed, wondering just what his cousin was getting at. “Not recently.”

After Tavggol’s death, he had kept himself away from the clan, stayed in the woods or in his home on the outskirts. One couldn’t stand accused in a judgment if they had no contact with other orcs.

Though he’d half expected Yerina or one of her friends to bring one about eventually. Take the rumors she’d spread about him after he’d refused to see her again to his father to get revenge.

But she hadn’t. Yet .

“I thought perhaps Ergoth sending you to Estwill was some sort of extreme punishment.”

“No.” Some punishments he’d endured over his life had been extreme, but not that extreme. “Being sent to Estwill to retrieve the women was meant to be an honor.”

Karthoc scoffed and spat upon the ground. “An honor ? It is an honor to be slaughtered?”

“I do not believe Chief Ergoth understood how bad off Estwill truly was—is,” Govek replied.

“How could he not know? Is he so blind to how Faeda has fallen?”

“We have no contact with any outside the Rove Woods besides the warriors you send to fetch tinctures.”

“Not even to get women? I’ve seen a few here already.” Karthoc lowered his voice, “You can’t tell me they all came from that single village here in the Rove Woods.”

“They are all from Oakwall Village, yes.” Oakwall had been trade partners with Rove Wood Clan for centuries and was cut off from all outside humans.

“Lower your voice,” Karthoc muttered, looking around at his warriors. “I don’t want my warriors knowing about it or they’ll fight to death over who gets to visit.”

Govek nodded. He couldn’t imagine Chief Ergoth would be keen on the warriors visiting Oakwall either. The peaceful trade between Oakwall and Rove Wood Clan was the only reason their communities could survive without ever leaving these woods.

The humans of Oakwall flinched when Rove orcs bellowed and bared their fangs, he couldn’t imagine how they might react to one of Karthoc’s battle scarred warriors.

As if to prove Govek’s thoughts correct, a thunderous roar sounded. Govek jerked, glancing toward the arena, which was still being created, and found that two males were engaged in bloody carnage. One slugged the other in the nose and blood sprayed in an arc.

Karthoc barely glanced at the battle. “So, you really think Ergoth didn’t know what he was doing when he ordered you to your death?”

Govek’s gut twisted, and his hands balled, and he took a few cleansing breaths of the crisp autumn evening. Now that time and distance had softened the order, Govek could see reason. Think logically. Put himself in his father’s place. “I know he didn’t.”

Karthoc narrowed his eyes. “So, you’re saying you didn’t even try to tell him that Estwill is their main stronghold this side of the Wyin Mountains?”

“I did.” Govek recalled the last meeting he had with his father. In the hall. In front of his clan. Where Govek had tried to impart how going to Estwill would lead to his death more swiftly than any other act.

But his father had not listened. Not when he had missives from Govek’s mother, who supposedly lived in Estwill, claiming that she had five young, fertile women wanting to join Rove Wood Clan and play conquest to orcs.

“I know your mother’s hand better than any other. Corine was my mate for seven years until you were born.”

“I believe the hope that Corine might return to be his mate blinded him,” Govek managed to say even as the memory of the clan’s haunting silence descended on him. Of their piercing eyes as they watched him walk his death march.

Perhaps his father was too consumed by grief to think, but the rest of the orcs should have known. And not one of them rose to stand on his behalf.

Govek no longer wanted anything to do with them. “I was not going to Estwill. I was going to travel to you . To finally take you up on your offer to join your clan at Baelrok.”

Karthoc’s brow furrowed deep. “Is that . . . so?”

“Yes. With Tavggol gone, there is nothing holding me here.”

“Hmm.” Karthoc muttered looking back to the still fighting orcs. Each blow cracked like thunder. “Tell me, Govek, are you still able to conjure magic?”

Govek’s stomach twisted. Was his cousin changing his mind about inviting him? Had Karthoc decided that he and his cursed magic were too dangerous to live among his warriors after all?

But he could not lie. “I . . . can.”

Karthoc nodded and his face relaxed, and Govek wanted to sigh with relief. “I am making an announcement at your hall tomorrow after the morning meal. You will be there.”

“Yes, Warlord?—”

“Govek! My son.”

Govek turned, chest tight, and saw his father moving toward him through the camp with opulent purple robes billowing around him. His slender arms were outstretched, and his white hair was tight in neat braids.

“My son!”

Ergoth threw his arms around Govek and he jolted, a sweltering zing of shock shot down his limbs and froze him to the spot.

His mind reeled at the oddity of being touched by his father. He could not recall a time Chief Ergoth had ever done so for any reason.

“My son, you have returned alive and successful!”

“Chief,” Govek managed, though the greeting came out strangled. His tongue tasted sour.

“Let me look at you.” Ergoth released him and Govek took a breath. “Let me see that you are well. Are you harmed? Since this afternoon when Karthoc told me of how atrocious Estwill was, I’ve been in utter ruin thinking that I had sent you to your death. By Fades, Govek, tell me, how do you fair? Do you have any injuries?”

“He’s fine as you can see,” Karthoc said, standing back to watch the uncomfortable exchange.

Ergoth continued his examination, embracing Govek quickly again and babbling about how well he looked. Govek could not for the life of him recall his father ever greeting him with such exuberance before, especially not in such a public place. All of Karthoc’s warriors were watching.

It made Govek’s skin break out into prickling discomfort. His hands balled into fists and his jaw clenched tight, covering his teeth.

He’d longed for his father’s approval all his life. He should be grateful for it now. But instead, he wanted the male to get off him.

“You are certain you are well? You were not attacked on the way to Estwill?”

Govek resisted the urge to step back, to put distance between him and his father. “I was attacked by a boar. One that was blighted. It had spikes tied to its tusks that were laced with goblin poison.”

“Goblin poison?” Karthoc exclaimed. “Fuck the Fades, how did you survive that ? And who did it?”

“It must have been humans,” Ergoth said, finally stepping away. Govek breathed a quiet sigh of relief. “Oh, the horror. I cannot believe I nearly sent you to your death.”

“Calm down, Ergoth,” Karthoc snapped. “Goblins went underground more than two decades ago and took all their magic with them. Govek, do you know how humans could have gotten it?”

“No.”

“Those Waking Order wretches must have stolen it,” Ergoth said. “And does it matter? My son was nearly killed. ”

“So worried now when it was you , uncle, who sent him to his doom.”

“Yes, and I will regret that decision every day for the remainder of my life.” Govek’s father said with such earnestness that Govek blinked.

“I’m sure.” Karthoc snorted.

His father skewered Karthoc with a glower. “Govek, you have done well. Rogeth says that you managed to bring a woman here despite not making it to Estwill.”

“A woman?” Karthoc said with far too much interest and Govek’s claws instantly burst from his hands. “You didn’t mention a woman.”

“She is mine,” Govek rumbled.

“What do you mean she is yours?” Chief Ergoth said slowly. “You rescued her, did you not? Brought her here to live? You cannot claim possession over her, Govek. That isn’t our way.”

Govek gritted his teeth. Of course, he would not force Miranda to do anything, but blast. His infernal imprint was screaming at him to drag his woman to his home and bar all the doors.

“Rogeth says she is with Maythra now. I will tell her to bring this newcomer to the hall. She can mingle with her new clan while you rest at home.”

Have Miranda mingle with other orcs at the hall while he was forced to remain in isolation on the outskirts? Fuck no.

“Miranda stays with me,” Govek snarled.

His father’s brow furrowed. “Govek, control yourself. She should be allowed to come to the hall if she wants to.”

“Fuck all, why are we even bothering with this?” Karthoc said, waving a hand. “Govek is the one who brought her here, so clearly she is his conquest.”

Ergoth narrowed his eyes. “That isn’t how we do things in Rove Wood, my young nephew. Your warriors may cart women around like property, but the orcs of Rove do not. Every woman here in our clan, in Oakwall, or outside it, is her own being deserving of respect.”

“I never said they don’t get respect . And of course, they are not our property. But Govek clearly feels for her and what point is there going to your hall unless she is there to meet other orcs? Orcs shouldn’t be trying to steal women away from each other.”

“The fact that you think they can be stolen insinuates that you regard them as property and not beings with their own sovereignty.” Chief Ergoth lifted his head high.

“You twist my words, Ergoth. Orcs no longer fight for their women as we did in the past. The woman has control over who she plays conquest to. She can choose to belong to any she sees fit.”

“Exactly,” Chief Ergoth said with a quick nod. “So, Govek, Miranda will come to the hall tonight, meet others and have a meal. So that if or when she decides to play conquest, it can be an informed choice rather than one made only out of desperation. Rogeth told me she was lost in the woods. Poor thing. She must have been terrified.”

Govek gritted his teeth, his claws sunk into his palms. Of course, Miranda hadn’t chosen to be with him out of desperation. Of course, she hadn’t given herself to him only because he was her only option.

Right?

His guts were in tatters.

And then Karthoc leaned in a little toward Govek, sucked a breath in, before bellowing out a laugh. “Not so terrified she wouldn’t take Govek here into her bed.”

Ergoth’s scowled deepened, accentuating the sharp lines on his forehead and darkening his eyes. “Nephew, that is unseemly. How dare you insinuate something so crude.”

“You can smell her on him, can’t you? She’s clearly been all over him. Multiple times judging by the strength,” Karthoc said and Govek could not decide if he was affronted on Miranda’s behalf or relieved this truth was so apparent. “Is she pregnant?”

“No,” Govek said in an instant before his father could think any worse of him. “She’s been through a trial. I brought her here expecting nothing from her in return.”

“But you still took advantage of her vulnerability?” Chief Ergoth asked coldly.

“No vulnerability smells like that, Ergoth,” Karthoc snapped. “She was wanting, clearly. Or have you never had a hot, willing woman before? Perhaps you don’t know the scent of it?”

Ergoth’s face grew dark and his gold eyes bulged, and Govek clenched his fists so hard that he could feel the warm, wet blood trickle between his fingers.

“I know better than any, my young nephew. Far better than you. Corine worshipped —” Ergoth sucked in a breath, shook his head as if trying to dispel his fury. “This is pointless. I relent. But Govek, I trust you wouldn’t hold this woman against her will. If she would like to come to the hall for a meal, you will allow her.”

“Yes,” Govek responded. He already knew that trying to take command would ruin things where women were concerned. He would give Miranda any boon she wished if it meant she stayed at his side.

Hopefully, for tonight, his home and everything in it would be enough.

“Now, if you will excuse me, I am weary from all the interrogations we have suffered this day.” Ergoth looked pointedly at Karthoc.

“I only wanted to know why you would send Govek to his doom, uncle . He is your only living son, after all. I would have thought you would treat him better.”

“It is not I who dismisses his worth. After all, how many of your messages mention him even in passing?”

Karthoc scowled.

“Exactly. It is clear that your only care is for the healing tinctures my clan provides you. And that is fine, since they are winning you the war and saving your warriors’ lives. My conjurers gladly turn their hands black to keep your legions safe. But do not, in your arrogance, assume that my clan’s only worth is to keep up with your ruthless demands. We few orcs born under this Rove Tree are the only ones the Fades blessed with magic, and you best not forget that fact.”

With that, Ergoth turned on his heel and disappeared back into the woods, back to the hall, and Govek felt all the tension in him evaporate as exhaustion took its place.

“It is not my arrogance that is the problem,” Karthoc said, his dark eyes following Ergoth. “The whole lot think themselves superior only because they conjure magic. But tell me this, who would have held back the forces at the base of Mount Rayvol? Who would have ended the siege at the Blur-ang River? Who would have prevented the burning of the very Rove Woods these orcs hold dear if not my warriors?”

Govek understood his elder cousin’s words, but his eyes were trained to Karthoc’s own brother, who was still working on smoothing the logs. To the numerous scars and marks covering Brovdir’s hulking frame. To the deep slashed scar along his neck that carried the proof that without Rove Woods healing tinctures, most of their warriors would have perished long ago.

“Magic is only as powerful and useful as the beings who wield it,” Karthoc said. “How did you survive goblin poison? Was it your magic?”

“No.” The question betrayed how little Karthoc truly knew about conjuring. “My conquest saved me with water from the Spring of the Fades.”

“This woman you found, from where does she herald?”

“She was lost in the woods.” Govek was uncertain how much of Miranda’s past to give.

“Did she give you a name?”

“Miranda.”

“Miranda of…?”

Earth. “I’m not sure.”

“How did she know about the spring’s effects?”

“I told her. I managed that much before I collapsed, and we were close enough for her to accomplish it.”

“Fucking odd,” Karthoc said, looking back to his warriors. Govek was well aware that most of them had tried and failed to find conquests. “Most humans would rather skewer you through and steal your wares. Take your hospitality and leave you nothing but dark yearnings in return.”

Govek narrowed his eyes, trying to work through his cousin’s double meaning.

“Enough of this. We will be taking some time here to regroup. The Waking Order is planning something. I suspect a siege on Baelrok will be their next move, but it would be foolhardy of them to attempt it so close to winter.” Karthoc crossed his bulky arms and looked off toward a large black tent near the edge of the clearing. “My seer says time with the Spring of the Fades under your Great Rove Tree might reveal their intent. I don’t have much hope. These day’s he can barely divine his own ass in the privy.”

Govek’s jaw slacked with shock. “Seer Evythiken is with you?”

“Yes, though it only serves to slow us down. Blind fool can barely handle the travel on a good day. He’s constantly plagued with visions from the Fades and can barely concentrate on anything else. Sometimes he can hardly walk. I would order him to be carried if I had the power.”

Govek gritted his teeth. The seer wasn’t well? What did that mean for Miranda and her longing to have Evythiken divine for her?

“Why? You want to ask him something?”

Govek was unwilling to mention Miranda’s plans. “I only wondered if he might know a place free from the war.”

Karthoc looked away, toward the camp, toward his brother. His brows furrowed and his concern was plain to see. “Evythiken does know a place and the blind fool thinks that we all should...”

Govek startled. He hadn’t expected that response. “Should what?”

Karthoc waved him off. “The seer’s mind is muddled and raw. He is in constant agony from the onslaught the Fades force upon him. He can hardly eat and move, let alone divine the will of our creators. It was no wonder the overlord dismissed him from his fold.”

Govek’s eyes widened. He hadn’t known that Evythiken had been dismissed from the overlord’s council. He’d assumed the powerful seer had been reassigned to help Karthoc.

“Most of his babbles are fucking rave dung,” Karthoc muttered before changing the topic. “This wears on me. Tell me, instead, of your woman, Govek?”

Govek bristled, jaw unhinging, claws slicking out. Fuck his instincts and his inability to control them.

Karthoc, in all his too observant ways, rose his brows in shock. “For fuck’s sake, how did you get imprinted on her so wretched fast?”

“How can you tell?” Govek asked. To his knowledge, there were no outward signs of imprinting.

“I have my ways,” Karthoc said, obtusely. “But you’ve only been gone a handful of nights. You barely smell of her. I’ve never seen an imprint hit so quick.”

Govek had no response for that. Imprints typically occurred over the course of many seasons, even years. It had taken two seasons for Yerina’s to firm within him, and even then, it had not been nearly as deep as Miranda’s was now.

Karthoc continued. “Brovdir has had many women flee him. All within my forge have. I was just pondering that she may have been a lost conquest.”

“She isn’t,” Govek snarled. “She is mine and smells of no other male.”

“For fuck’s sake. That isn’t what I meant,” Karthoc said, his amusement growing even higher. Govek couldn’t decide if he wanted to rage at the male or let his tension ebb. “I only thought to warn any fools thinking to challenge you for her. I’ve seen your battle rage, Govek, how your magic-laced blows could render even the mightiest to pieces, and I have no desire to lose good warriors to your prowess.”

Govek’s blood simmered under the weight of Karthoc’s words. Govek had lived with the dreaded knowledge of his brutality for far longer than Clairton, but the events there had pushed the truth into the light. He could no longer hide away in Rove Wood and pretend he wasn’t the dangerous wretch his brethren knew him to be.

It was only a matter of fucking time before Miranda was informed of it. Dread stirred so thick he couldn’t swallow.

“Let’s get you to her, then.” Karthoc made his way out of the camp. “I’m eager to see the woman who can put up with your wretched ass.”

The insult was eased with a smirk that did nothing to quell Govek’s dread. He wanted to tell Karthoc to fuck off. To get back to his own business. To stay far away from his mate until Govek could fully win her.

“When she decides to play conquest, it can be an informed choice rather than one made only out of desperation.”

His stomach rolled.

They met no others on the paths as they walked. All of the Rove Wood orcs were likely making merry in the hall, and would continue to until late in the night, enjoying their meat and mead as though Karthoc and his warriors were not even here.

The silence was easy between him and his cousin, but Govek was glad this night was done so he could spend the rest of it with Miranda in his secluded home on the outskirts. Alone.

He would find boons to prove to her he was the right choice.

And then her honeyed scent wafted toward him.

From the opposite direction of his home.

“Fuck,” Govek said, turning the exact direction he didn’t wish to go. Further into the clan.

“What?” Karthoc said, but Govek ignored him and went to find his wayward mate.