SWNOVELS Her Orc Protector: Chapter 14
Korr is gone when I wake up, and with him the chance to talk about what I heard him say last night. I’m not sorry—because I don’t know what I would say in return.
He’s falling in love with me. How can that be? He barely even knows me, and I haven’t told him my most dangerous secret either. He was pushed into this union with me by some twist of fate. I cannot trust that his feelings are that deep yet, no matter what he claims. Real love takes longer to develop. What he’s experiencing is something else, likely nature’s sneaky way of ensuring the survival of the orc race. Our relationship seems completely lopsided, with him putting all his hopes and dreams on my shoulders. I cannot tell him the same—the words would be a lie, and he deserves better than that.
But to say that I don’t feel anything for him wouldn’t be true either. The kind, passionate orc has wormed his way beneath my skin in a matter of several short days, and every time I think of leaving him, my gut lurches painfully. So maybe it’s best that we don’t have any serious conversations until I clear up the confusion in my head.
I tumble out of bed, naked, and head straight to the privy for a wash with a cloth and the freezing-cold water pouring from a spigot in the wall. The wide trough-like sink allows me to rinse my hair, and Korr’s herbal soap does the job of removing any remaining blood that was crusted in there from my injuries.
If I’m about to meet Mara and the queen again, I want to put my best foot forward.
Which might be hard since I have nothing to wear.
I end up putting on the beautiful chemise and layering one of Korr’s clean shirts on top of that, then cinch the ensemble at the waist with a leather belt I find in Korr’s wooden chest. I remember how Korr stared at me when he saw me in the chemise, and heat rushes to my face. His dirty clothes and the tunic I’d worn the past couple of days are nowhere to be seen, so Korr must have picked them up on his way out.
Finally, I braid my still-damp hair and decide to brave the corridors on my own. It’s curiosity that drives me, but I’m also ravenous despite our late-night snack.
I crack the door open, peering out, and find the hallway beyond just as I expected. It’s dark, but lanterns hang at intervals, illuminating the path just enough for me to see.
I’m fairly certain that Korr’s room was on the left side of the corridor when we arrived, so I turn right in an attempt to find the great hall again. I figure that’s the best place to start looking for Mara, especially since I don’t know where her rooms are.
But the corridors of the Hill are tricky. I was too tired last night to remember all the twists and turns. I try to guess which way to go at every intersection but soon get hopelessly lost. I pass a beautifully carved wooden door, though I don’t dare knock on it to check whether anyone’s inside. Finally, I stumble onto a couple of orc guards standing at attention in a corridor that doesn’t seem to be illuminated too well—the end of it fades into blackness, as if it’s not in frequent use. Still, I gather my courage and ask them for directions.
“Third turn on the right,” says a handsome warrior who introduces himself as Neekar, “then second on the left, then fourth on the right. You can’t miss it.”
I stare at him, perplexed, then mouth the instructions, trying to commit them to my memory. I was never good with this kind of thing and decide to get a piece of paper and a quill to write down the directions. I can’t keep stumbling around this place blindly, asking people for help, or they’ll soon think I’m simple.
“You’re Korr’s mate?” asks the other guard.
I didn’t pay attention to him while Neekar explained the directions to me, because he seemed content to listen, his gaze on me. His hair is cropped short on the sides, which is unusual on an orc, but the rest of his hair is braided in a complicated pattern, the effect stunning. He’s not dressed as a warrior either, his linen shirt starched, his silk vest impeccable, though he has a weapons belt slung around his narrow hips, bristling with knives.
I’m only too aware of my hastily braided hair, still dripping water down my back, and my less-than-perfect attire.
“Yes.” I lift my chin. “I’m Ivy.”
The male cocks his head to the side. He’s familiar, somehow, his eyebrows the same shape as Korr’s, but his disdainful stare is nothing like my orc’s kind gaze.
“Just a little thing, aren’t you?” he remarks, almost as if speaking to himself.
He steps closer and sniffs at me, then curls his nose. “And you reek of him. How typical.” He retreats and leans against the wall, his arms crossed over his powerful chest. “Korr picked up the first human he could find.”
I gape at him, shocked at his rudeness. I want to tell him where to stick his observations, but I don’t know this orc. He’s hostile for no good reason—and seems to have something against Korr.
“Excuse me.” My cheeks warm from embarrassment. “I have to go.”
I turn swiftly and scurry back down the corridor in the direction I came from, too flustered to even count the openings in the corridor. The orcs behind me exchange several curt words, though they are too low for me to hear. I don’t care what they think of me. I only want to get away from them.
“Ivy,” calls a deep voice behind me. “Wait, you’re going the wrong way.”
I stop but don’t turn around. I don’t want Neekar to see how embarrassed I am—and I know it’s him behind me because the other orc would probably have let me wander on in the wrong direction in the hopes that I got lost again.
“Hey,” Neekar says as he draws to a stop next to me. “I’m sorry about that. I had no idea he’d be so rude.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek, then finally face him. “Why did he act that way?”
Neekar shakes his head. “That’s Marut, Korr’s brother.”
“Oh!” I peer down the hallway again as if I could see the male from around the bend. “I thought he looked familiar.”
Neekar motions for me to walk beside him, and we take a turn I just missed, then another soon after.
“Aye, they were much more alike when they were young, though not identical,” Neekar says.
He leads me past an open classroom in which a multitude of children are attempting to sing some sort of counting song while banging on various instruments. The effect is far from harmonious, but everyone seems to be having great fun. I smile at the scene, my mood improving a little.
“So I take it he and Korr still don’t get along?” I think back on the dour orc.
Neekar peers down at me. “Has Korr told you about him?”
“He mentioned him in passing,” I say, evading the prying question.
I don’t know how many in this clan know about Korr’s aversion to closed spaces, but from the fact that his room is still located in the depths of the Hill, I suspect he never mentioned it to anyone. Also, I have no idea if Neekar and Korr are even friendly. As much as I want to believe that everyone here likes to live in peace, Marut the Horrible just showed me otherwise.
Giving him a nickname helps me get over his rudeness, too, and the last of my bad mood dissipates when Neekar and I emerge into the great hall. We’re greeted by the scent of sausages and eggs, freshly baked bread, and boiled cabbage—the last of which is served in a stew that everyone seems to be eating despite its pungent smell.
Neekar hands me over to Mara, who has brought her work to breakfast. She glances up at us, smiles, and closes the thick leather-bound ledger in front of her.
“You don’t have to stop on my account,” I say quickly, not wanting to be a bother.
“Don’t be silly,” Mara says, motioning to a space opposite her. “Do you really think I would pass up on the chance to meet Korr’s new mate? It’s wintertime. We don’t get nearly enough entertainment at this time of year. You’re doing me a favor.” She peers at me. “You will tell me everything that’s happened, right?”
I grin at her enthusiasm, then glance at Neekar. “Thank you for escorting me.”
“Anytime,” he says. “And don’t fret about Marut too much. He likes to keep to himself anyway.”
He lopes off in the direction he came from, disappearing from the great hall. I turn back to find Mara staring at me, her eyebrows raised.
“You had a run-in with Marut?” she asks.
I grimace, then reach for a plate and put two hard-boiled eggs on it. “Yes, but it’s fine.”
She taps her fingers on the table. “Are you certain? He can be a complete bastard sometimes.”
I pause with a bread roll clutched in my hand. “You know him?”
“We grew up together,” she says. “I’m younger than the twins by several years, but we’re second cousins.”
That explains her desire to help us. “I didn’t know. Korr didn’t mention you were family.”
She waves a hand dismissively. “The fact is that most of us are related in some way or another,” she grumbles. “The king himself is my first cousin on my mother’s side. It’s why everyone was so happy to see him and his warriors mated to human women. We cannot find mates in a Hill full of our relatives.”
She shudders, and I stare at her, contemplating the issue, then turn to glance around the Hall. There are many families here with young children—likely too young to attend school—but I also heard those younglings singing back in the corridor, so obviously some have managed to find orc mates. But even though the hall is spacious and the tables and benches indicate that the clan is large, I can imagine what it would be like to only be able to choose among a limited number of potential suitors.
“You’re not, uh, mated, then?” I ask tentatively.
Mara lifts one shoulder in a surprisingly dainty shrug. “Not yet. My time will come.”
But her dark eyes turn wistful for a moment before she shakes it off and insists I try the blueberry preserves with my scones.
The more I think about it, the less I’m certain which way is best, human or orc, when it comes to choosing life partners. Theirs seems dependent on meeting many new people until their instincts tell them they have found their mate. What choice do they have in the matter? But then I had all the choice in picking my own husband, and look how that turned out.
I know I’m being overdramatic. My parents’ marriage had been happy, and they’d loved each other in a quiet, lasting way. I always thought that my future would be similar. That I’d find a kind man who would make me feel safe and stay with him forever.
And…perhaps I have. Only Korr is an orc. Not that I mind—it’s not that. But living in an underground palace with no windows where Korr is so uncomfortable, he runs away at the first chance, is not what I imagined at all.
“You needn’t worry about Marut,” Mara says, returning us both to our previous conversation. She gives me a small smile as if acknowledging the brief awkwardness between us, then adds, “He doesn’t like people much. He prefers his books and scrolls and only leaves the library when he’s on guard rotation.”
“Really?” I lean my elbows on the table.
Mara slathers more jam on top of a buttered scone and hands it to me. “He’s the clan’s archivist. Doesn’t like to be outside at all.”
I nearly laugh at the information. Could he and Korr be more different? Korr would spend his entire life in the forest if he could, I’d wager, and his brother is content to play the recluse.
I’m glad I met Korr first. He’s the better twin for sure. I can’t imagine what would happen if Marut met me and decided I was his mate. I pity the one who is destined to be his partner for life.
After breakfast, Mara takes me to see Poppy, the seamstress who made my chemise, and secures several dresses for me from the rack of premade clothes Poppy and two of her helpers have sewn. It seems that the Hill has been busy these past months, and the head seamstress, while unfailingly friendly, seems a little frazzled, so we leave her to her work.
“Is she all right?” I ask Mara as we retreat down the corridor. “Does she need help?”
Mara shakes her head, her smile rueful. “She’s got four more women from the village working for her. They can’t get here because of the heavy snow, but it’s not an issue for anyone but Poppy. It’s just that she takes everything to heart. She sent her mate, Steagor, to the village with the women’s weekly wages, so they don’t run short on coin. And now she’s worried about him. She’ll be fine once Steagor returns.”
My heart jolts. I remember that Korr, too, is out in the snow, and I didn’t consider what might happen to him out there.
“Is it safe?” I ask. “For him to leave the Hill?”
Mara gives me a strange look. “Of course. He’s an orc. And our clan territory is safe.” Then her expression softens. “Oh, you’re worried about Korr?”
At my nod, she puts her arm around my shoulders and squeezes me affectionately. “Don’t fret. That orc could survive in a blizzard with only a knife and a string. He’s a brilliant hunter.”
Her words settle the wobbly feeling in my chest. She’s right. I saw firsthand how capable Korr was, so there’s no use worrying about him at all.
Mara shows me the way to the hot baths, which I decide to try when Korr returns, and introduces me to everyone we meet in the Hill. The names run together in my head, along with the directions to various places she rattles off, and finally, I have to ask Mara for paper and ink.
“You’ll learn soon enough,” Mara says as she watches me scribble the directions from the great hall to her rooms on my new notepad.
I add the last turn to the page. “Perhaps. But I’d rather not keep getting lost.”
A large wooden door opens ahead of our arrival. A young orc boy exits, followed by his parents. His arm is bound tight with bandages and strapped to his chest in a sling.
“No more climbing the walls,” an older orc woman says sternly.
The boy dips his tear-streaked face in a nod. “I won’t. But Rork bet me five biscuits I couldn’t do it.”
The father runs a palm down his face. “Don’t worry, Taris. We’ll have a good long talk about this.”
The family leaves, and the woman focuses her attention on us.
“You’re Taris?” I blurt, stepping forward.
She cocks one dark eyebrows. “Aye. And who are you?”
Mara opens her mouth to introduce me, but I step forward, my hand outstretched.
“Ivy, pleased to meet you.” I shake her hand vigorously. “Korr told me you gave him the healing salve. Thank you.”
The older woman’s hand twitches in mine, and she gasps, so I loosen my grip, thinking I’d accidentally hurt her. But she recovers immediately and grants me a good handshake and a smile.
“Well, then. Would you like a cup of tea?”
I turn to Mara. “Are you joining us?”
“I think you’re in good hands,” she says. “But you know where to find me if you need me.” She motions at my map.
“Thank you.” I step closer to press her hand.
She grins at me, then wraps me in a tight hug. “Welcome to the Hill, Ivy.”
Taris waits for me by the door to the infirmary. It’s a large space with several sickbeds, all empty but the one at the far end, in which a middle-aged male orc is snoring loudly.
“I’m keeping him here overnight,” Taris explains. “The fool mixed up the potion I gave him for his toe fungus with his cough syrup and spent the better part of the morning throwing up.” She sets two clay cups on the table and motions at me to sit, then pours us both some hot herbal tea. “Good thing, too, or I’d have to purge his stomach.”
Before she takes her own seat, though, Taris inspects the wound on my forehead that Korr treated in his hut. She clucks at his clumsy stitches but plucks them out without issue, ensuring me the cut is healing nicely. She even hands me a small silver mirror so I can inspect the cut. It’s an inch or so long, and if I arrange my hair right, it’s barely visible. Still, I know how lucky I am. An injury of this kind could have been the end of me in different circumstances.
Taris finally sits on the chair opposite mine and picks up her cup with a sigh. I lift mine and inhale the steam coming from it, then take a sip. The taste of peppermint and clover blossoms explodes on my tongue, and I hum appreciatively.
“You added some ginger root for brightness?” I ask, then inhale again. “And sage for clarity? This is a lovely morning blend.”
Taris’s dark eyes light up with interest. “You know your herbs.”
I set the cup down and confess, “I’d been planning on coming to see you since Korr mentioned you were the clan’s healer. I wanted to ask if you’d consider taking on an apprentice.”
Taris surveys me with a critical look. “And you fancy yourself a healer, too?”
I shake my head. “Just an herbalist. I do know most useful plants in these woods. My mother was a midwife, and I learned a lot from her before she passed.”
“Hmm.” Taris takes another sip of her tea. “I have an apprentice already. But he’s still young, and strangely enough, needs to sleep from time to time. As do I. It would be easier if I could trust both of you to take shifts here whenever we have someone in overnight.” She motions at the sleeping orc.
“I could do that,” I agree.
“Not without a proper trial, you couldn’t,” Taris snaps. “I wouldn’t trust a stranger with the health of the clan.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Of course not. But I’d like a chance to prove myself.”
She doesn’t seem particularly impressed, but just when I think she might dismiss me for being overconfident, she says, “You start today. We’re visiting a mother who’s just had her baby. Check my bag, see what’s inside, and try to find anything you think is missing.”
A test.
I drain my cup of tea and get to work. Taris’ healer’s bag is well stocked for most basic procedures she’d have to perform daily, from sewing up cuts to healing coughs or stomach issues. But for a new mother, I add some dried nettle leaves in a jar and dig through Taris’ impressive, well-organized cabinets of herbs until I find a beetroot tincture that will help replenish the blood she lost. I pick up some linen pads as well, which seem to have been boiled and pressed, and close the clasp on the bag, throwing Taris a questioning look.
“Good,” she says. “See if we have any aniseed left. Might help with the baby’s stomach cramps.”
An orc boy of seventeen years or so arrives to take over the infirmary while we’re gone, and Taris introduces him as her apprentice, Tomork. The boy stares at me with rounded eyes until Taris reminds him he’s being rude, at which point he flushes a deep green and ducks his head.
“You were too hard on him,” I whisper when we walk down the corridor. “He likely hasn’t seen many humans.”
Taris’ expression softens. “Aye, I know. But as a healer, he needs to contain his emotions. We can’t have him gawking at people when they arrive at the infirmary either.”
I file that away for later, reminding myself not to stare at the orcs we encounter.
Our visit with the new mother goes well. She’s breastfeeding her baby, a little girl with soft green skin. As Taris checks on the mother, I undo the baby’s swaddle under the watchful gaze of her father and two older brothers, orc boys no older than four years.
“When will she play with us?” demands one of the two, nudging his father with a carved wooden horse. “She’s boring. All she does is sleep and eat and cry.”
“And poop,” I joke when I find her full nappy. “Don’t forget about the pooping.”
The boys squeal with delighted horror and tumble away, laughing.
The father grins at me, his white tusks gleaming. “Aye, there is a lot of that.”
It’s clear how much he dotes on his mate from the way he always seems to keep her in his sights—and from how he takes care of their home while she’s resting. In the time that we’re there, he sets out snacks for the boys, helps one of them visit the privy, and changes the other’s tunic when he spills tea all over himself.
“He’s been like this after every baby,” the orc woman tells me with a smile. “Won’t let me do any work at all.”
When Taris and I leave, I mull over the idyllic family scene we witnessed.
“You’re awfully quiet,” the healer remarks as we return to the infirmary. “Anything I can help you with?”
“Are…are all orcs good parents?” I ask. “No, that’s not the right question. I’m just wondering…”
“If Korr will make a good father?” Taris asks.
“Yes.” I sigh. “I’ve been meaning to ask for the ingredients for a tea that will prevent pregnancy. I’m just… I need to take precautions.”
She shrugs. “I’ll do you one better.” She reaches for a drawer and takes out a glass jar filled with an herbal mixture. It’s one of several she has stashed in there. “I keep it on hand. Come by whenever it runs out.”
I cradle the jar in my hands. “You didn’t answer my question.”
She glances at Tomork, who is sitting on one of the empty cots, engrossed in a book, then turns back to me. “Not all orcs are wonderful parents,” she says quietly. “Just as not all humans are either. But Korr will be a wonderful father. You have to know, however, that it might hurt him if he tries to stay inside with you and the baby for too long.”
“You know?” I stare at her. “He told you?”
Taris lets out a weary breath. “No. I’m surprised he told you, but I suppose it’s hard to hide when you’re sleeping in the same bed. But I was the one who found him in that cellar. Years ago, it was.”
I remember Korr’s story. “He said it was a kitchen maid.”
“Aye.” Taris’ smile doesn’t reach her eyes for once. “The old king didn’t much care for women working in important places like the infirmary, no matter what they were good at. I was a kitchen maid before we left the old clan.” She runs her fingertips over a candle burn on the wooden table. “I’m not surprised Korr doesn’t remember it was me. I’d wager he’s tried to forget all about that experience.”
“But he hasn’t,” I say, pressing my hand on top of hers. “He hasn’t forgotten at all.”
“Maybe you’ll figure out how to help him,” she says softly. “It would be good to see that boy happy. Him and his brother both.”
My face must show what I think of Marut, because Taris laughs, the tension between us broken. When I explain what he said to me, she only shakes her head and says he’ll meet his match soon enough, then dismisses me for the night, saying I should return first thing tomorrow for work.
I find my way back to the great hall with the help of an elderly couple who invite me to sit with them at dinner since Korr hasn’t returned yet. I wave at Mara and Dawn from across the hall but stay to answer the many questions the two old orcs—and their three friends who join us—have about my life and the current affairs in the human world.
It’s nice to have company, and I was busy enough with work before, but I find myself missing Korr. I didn’t even know him last week, and here I am, lamenting his long absence. I think of Poppy and how she cast worried glances toward the door of her workshop. Searching the crowd of faces with my gaze, I find her sitting next to a burly orc warrior with a scarred face and kind eyes. They’re talking quietly, oblivious to the rest of the world, and as I watch, he gently takes a curl of her golden hair and winds it around his fingers, then tugs her closer for a kiss. It’s sweet and passionate, a coming together of two souls who love each other, and it has my heart hurting deeply.
This is what I want. And I don’t know if I’ll ever get that with Korr, not with how we are. I still haven’t told him the truth about myself, and I’m not yet convinced that the Hill will become my permanent home.
I’m afraid of being honest, even though I don’t think Korr would hurt me. But I’ve lost one safe haven already because of this, and I don’t want to lose another.