Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Alwyn
They set out in the morning on fresh horses, their saddlebags laden with supplies. It was a far less bleak situation than they had been in just a few days ago, but when Drol Kuggradh faded from sight, Alwyn was more nervous than when he’d left Castle Aefraya.
It truly felt like winter now, the cold air biting his skin wherever it was exposed, even in the afternoon. As they traveled northwest, they expected it might snow before reaching Zesh’s camp; but for now, the skies remained blessedly clear. A small thing, but one he was grateful for all the same.
They would eventually have to cut through untamed wilderness, so Alwyn was also trying to be thankful for the path while it lasted.
Ahead of him, Krujha seemed as annoyingly cheerful as ever, humming and whistling as their horses trod the worn dirt path.
He wondered how Krujha could be in such a good mood with such an insurmountable task set before them.
“You’re wound tight as a spring,” Krujha commented when they paused to eat a midday meal and stretch their legs.
The food was cold but fresh: wild rice wrapped in fragrant leaves and stuffed with an herbaceous mushroom filling, another thing Alwyn tried to be grateful for after days of cheese and hardtack.
He grimaced over at Krujha as he took a bite of the rice.
“I don’t understand how you’re not more anxious,” he mumbled. “We’re probably going to die.”
Krujha barked out a laugh, and despite his annoyance, Alwyn couldn’t fight the tiny smile on his lips in response. He hated how endearing the orc was. “We could die before we even get there. We could have died from any number of things at any point so far. Why let it bother you so much now?”
Alwyn’s smile faltered again. He couldn’t explain to Krujha that his true worries were not that he would die, but that he would fail in killing Zesh. So instead, he only shrugged. “I guess I don’t know how. How do you just not worry about something?”
“I think of other things.”
“I’ve been trying to do that. Like how I’m glad it’s not snowing, and that we have fresh food, instead of old rations.”
“That’s a good start,” Krujha chuckled, and a wicked gleam flickered across his eyes. “Helps if you have something to look forward to, like when we make camp tonight.”
Heat flooded Alwyn’s face, but he couldn’t deny the thrill of anticipation that raced through him.
“It’s been cold enough, we should probably share a tent,” he said dryly, hating how easily he abandoned his conviction that last night would never happen again. But the way Krujha’s grin widened made his stomach flutter and his head swim, and Alwyn knew he couldn’t deny himself.
Their days continued in much the same way.
The surrounding landscape became all the more stark and brown as winter dug its cold claws into the earth.
Each day was a little cooler and a little shorter than the last; on the third morning, they emerged from their tent to find a fine dusting of snow on the ground around them.
At night, Krujha pulled Alwyn into his bedroll, leaving them both sated and warm by the time they actually settled to sleep.
It was... strange. Not at all like the sex he’d had back in Aefraya, which had been more transactional than anything else.
Krujha seemed entirely concerned with his pleasure in a way he hadn’t experienced before.
Alwyn thought maybe he would be willing to try working up to some part of the orc’s cock being inside him, but Krujha hadn’t pressed the matter at all.
The whole situation made an unfamiliar warmth curl somewhere deep in his chest, something like affection.
As much as he told himself that they needed to keep each other at arm’s length, they spent their days within a few feet of each other at all times—their nights even closer—and he couldn’t bring himself to fight or regret it.
Alwyn was careful to never kiss him, and Krujha had never tried.
It still felt like a line that could never be uncrossed.
After all this was done, he would probably never see Krujha again—kissing him would be too emotionally fraught, knowing their time was limited.
In the end, their connection could only be physical.
There was no lasting emotion behind it, so there was no need for something like kissing.
On the fifth day, they knew they would be approaching the camp soon.
Krujha’s humming and whistling died away as they traveled more slowly, searching for signs and taking care to avoid possible scouts.
By evening, they could see the faint haze of smoke on the horizon.
The camp was still too far to spot, but if they stayed the course, they would arrive there within a day’s travel.
Alwyn lay shivering beside Krujha in the bedroll that night.
It was cold, but his shaking was more from nerves than anything else.
Krujha curled closer around him, trying to keep him warm.
When that didn’t help, he gently rubbed Alwyn’s back, as if comforting a small child.
It should have been humiliating, but Alwyn closed his eyes and leaned into the contact with a soft hum of contentment.
That was what this was doing to him—making him soft. He would allow it for just one more night. Tomorrow would come soon enough.
“Everything will be alright,” Krujha’s voice rumbled against him as he finally dozed off. “I’ll protect you.”
Alwyn wasn’t sure if he believed it, but the words carried him off into dreams like smoke, rising from a glowing flame until it dissipated into the night sky.
He dreamt of the waterfall house again. He could hear the heavy rush of it in the background as he stumbled after a tall elf in a long skirt.
His hands were too small as he reached for her, gripping the fabric to keep his footing.
She turned her head to him, but the sun was blinding as he looked up, and her features were lost in the flash of light.
In the morning, he woke up with Krujha’s arms wrapped around him, tighter than usual.
As he stirred, the orc’s grip loosened just a bit, still holding him as he craned his head to peer up into Krujha’s face.
He was awake, golden eyes bright in the dim light of their tent, and a small, familiar smile twitched at the corner of his lips as their eyes met.
“Good morning,” he said, his voice low and rough with sleep. “Ready?”
Alwyn stared at him for a moment, wondering how he managed to remain so chipper, even at sunrise, and knowing the danger that lay before them.
“Yes,” he finally replied. His voice came out barely above a whisper. He cleared his throat and added, “I’ll get the fire going for breakfast, if you’ll pack up the tent.”
With that, Krujha finally released him, and they stepped out into the wintry morning air.
Powder snow dusted the ground around them again, but Alwyn knew it would melt away quickly as the sun climbed higher in the sky.
The remains of their campfire were a few steps away; he fed it a tiny spark of his magic and soon had it crackling away again, as he set a pot of water to boil for porridge and tea.
Not that he had an appetite. Still, he forced down the food and tea when it was done. Too soon, Krujha was burying the embers of the fire, and they were setting out on their horses.
There was no path here, so they made slow and careful progress across the rocky hills. Alwyn could see the distant smoke of campfires in the sky. Before midday, they crested a grassy hill, and the full rebel camp came into view.
Alwyn froze, staring down into the valley.
The camp sprawled out much further than he could have imagined—well over a hundred tents, pens containing horses and livestock, the ringing of a hammer on metal and the billowing smoke of a blacksmith’s forge, rows and rows of barrels surely full of food and water.
As the seat of Zesh’s power, he knew this camp would be larger than the rest, but it set his heart racing with fear all over again to see it laid out so plainly before him.
This was not some small or disorganized fringe group.
No, Zesh was carefully and effectively gathering a whole host to take back Drol Kuggradh and destroy everything that had been built up between the elves and orcs in the past two years.
“Careful,” Krujha said quietly, pulling Alwyn from his spiraling thoughts. “Let’s back up a bit. Don’t want any scouts to spot us.”
Alwyn nodded, and after one last look at the camp below, he tore his gaze away.
“I don’t know what I expected,” Alwyn muttered as they backtracked down the other side of the hill they’d just climbed. “But that was... a lot.”
Krujha was silent with a pensive expression.
“Did you know it would be like that?” Alwyn asked. Krujha turned to him, his eyebrows raised. “You were tracking a camp like this, weren’t you?”
“A smaller camp, but yes,” he sighed. “I admit this is all turning out to be on a larger scale than I imagined. But I thought I recognized some of those tents—I think the camp I’d been tracking might have joined up with this one.
I think he’s gathering his forces to him, to hunker down for the winter. ”
“Or make a move on the city,” Alwyn frowned, and Krujha grimaced.
“It’s possible. Though winter is typically not the best time to lay siege to a city, so perhaps not,” he said.
For a moment they were both silent, and Alwyn let himself feel the utter hopelessness at the sheer enormity of the task before them. He’d known it would be challenging, but how could he possibly kill Zesh in a camp of this size with any hope of making it out alive?
But he had his orders. He had sworn to himself he would succeed, or die trying, so he would keep pushing forward.
As if sensing his thoughts, Krujha let out a heavy sigh and turned to him, a grim determination settling over his face.