Ballad and Blade (Destiny’s Edge)

6. Chapter 6

Chapter six

T he sweet scent of freshly opened blossoms drifted across the balcony on a breeze. Tamaka closed her eyes and inhaled, her nausea abating for the moment. She turned back to the mess she'd made of the enormous cliffside cave, the ancestral dwelling of orcish kings, and sighed. The balcony room was strewn with clothing. She didn't need to be doing this now, but she felt tense and unsettled most hours of the day. She needed to do something to take the edge away from her worries in the rare moments she had to herself.

The moment she wasn't busy, she was terrified.

A call echoed from the front hall of the cave and Zoli entered, her daughter Bula in tow. "Murzol said you finished your meeting with the sorcerers early—" Zoli began, then broke off, staring at the mess of clothing. She hummed softly and raised an eyebrow.

Tamaka sighed. She would have to tell someone sooner or later. She might as well tell her best friend now.

"Dregu!" she called. Her son emerged from the kitchen with a roll of bread between his teeth and another in his hands. He was nearly as tall as her at the gangly, awkward age of thirteen, his long braid of hair mussed since he didn't allow her to help him with it anymore. Despite the mountains of food he ate each day, he was still a skinny youth, his hip bones jutting out above the belt of his kilt. "Go and practice your archery with Bula. Or whatever you want," she told him, and he grinned around the bread in his mouth. He tossed the other roll to his friend and they hurried down the hall to the king's private dining room and council chambers. She could hear their boasting echoing through the cave. Tamaka half-smiled. Her son was a handful much of the time, but he had also been a delight since the first moment she'd felt him move in her womb. Now that his father was gone, she was closer to him than to anyone else in the world.

"What is wrong with you?" Zoli mused, stepping over a pile of tunics and sitting on the daybed at the side of the room.

Tamaka opened her mouth to answer, then pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes at the threatening onset of emotion. She slumped down beside her friend. Zoli clicked her tongue, resting a hand on Tamaka's shoulder. "I haven't seen you so out of sorts in years," she said. Not since Vagar's death. Neither of them mentioned that.

"I was panicking," Tamaka said softly, twisting her trembling hands in the hem of her tunic. She'd left it unbelted. For the past few days, she'd eschewed the normal half-corsets she wore. She was not showing much yet, but it felt odd to have something so tight against her stomach. She needed the larger, roomier tunics she'd worn when carrying Dregu. She needed to hide as long as she could. No tight clothing, nothing that lay close to the skin.

"What's happened that I haven't heard about?" her best friend asked.

She shook her head quickly before Zoli could worry. "No reports from the front lines," she said. The orcs' war with the elves was a stalemate for most of the year, which felt like a blessing on some days and a curse on others. "It's..." she sighed. "I was looking for my bigger clothes. What I wore when I was pregnant with Dregu. I... wanted them."

They sat in silence for a moment while Zoli's gaze roamed over the clothes again, her brow furrowing. "Why?" she asked.

"It's your fault," Tamaka snapped. "I drank erliti tea for two days after you told me to sleep with that bard, but it didn't work." She covered her face with her hands. "It's not your fault," she said more softly. "I'm sorry. You don't control the fates."

Zoli sucked in a breath. "You're not with child!" she gasped.

Tamaka nodded. "I can feel it, just like with Dregu. I'm even sick to my stomach at the same time of day. I asked Murzol to throw the bones after our meeting today, use his magic to tell me for certain." The old mage had read the runes on his bone dice with a stern frown, looking at Tamaka with concern, and it had taken everything in her at that moment not to cry. Now, she attempted a smile. Zoli's wide eyes didn't blink. "It's another boy."

For a moment, it seemed Zoli had forgotten to breathe. She choked slightly, her hand dropping from Tamaka's shoulder. "Gods, I..." She swallowed. "I didn't mean for this. I'm so sorry, Tam. It's only been three months. Is it... is there still time..." She drifted off, pressing her lips together.

Tamaka hesitated. "I could still end the pregnancy if I wished. It's not too far along." The Priestesses of Otuna had herbs for that as well, for any woman not ready to become a mother or too ill or weak to survive childbirth. And for pregnancies too far along for their herbs to be of use, there were ancient spells mages could use to peacefully end a child's life in the womb without badly harming the mother. They were sometimes dangerous, but she had options, if she wanted them.

When she'd first missed her monthly blood, she'd been certain she would want those options. That feeling had passed quickly.

Perhaps she was a fool, but she wanted this child. She didn't know how she would explain to her people that she was giving them another prince, with no husband to help her raise it. She didn't know how she would explain to Dregu that she had moved on from his father. He would probably love to have a little brother, and she and Vagar had always wanted to give him a sibling, though the time had never been right. But he was still vulnerable about the subject of his father's death. He'd lost Vagar at the age of nine, and she knew he still clung to his memories. Would having another child, from another male, feel like a betrayal to him?

"Maybe it would be wise to speak to the priestesses," she said softly. Tamaka stood, shoving the clothes back into the baskets and chests she'd pulled them from.

Zoli stopped her with a hand on her arm. When Tamaka tried to pull away, she held fast. "Stop," she whispered. "Stop and look at me."

Tamaka reluctantly met her eyes, the sympathy there making her lip tremble. She swallowed the feeling. That was what she did with feelings. For four years. Everything hurt too much otherwise.

"You were never the sort of person who cared about what was wise, or prudent," Zoli said. "You have always followed your heart. At least, you used to. I know—" she sniffed, wiping her eyes roughly. "I know better than anyone how hard things have been for you recently. I understand why you lost yourself for a time, but you can't lose yourself forever." She gripped both of Tamaka's shoulders, shaking her slightly. "What do you want? You, in your heart? Not what the kingdom needs, what the people need. Be honest; with yourself, with me, and I will help you. Whatever you wish to happen, I will help you make it happen. You know this, Tam. You know I will stand by you, whatever you choose."

Tamaka nodded sharply, tears slipping down her cheeks, and Zoli enfolded her in her arms, holding her so close she could feel her friend's heartbeat against her own. "I don't know what to do," she sobbed.

"I didn't ask you what you should do," Zoli said calmly, one hand stroking Tamaka's back. Tamaka melted into the touch. She had embraced few people since Vagar's death, apart from her son. She had been so afraid every small action might make her seem weak, make her people fear for their future that they'd placed in her hands. She had never been afraid of that when she had him by her side. She had loved him openly. She had never feared seeming weak. She wished she was still that person. She was not meant to be alone. She second-guessed herself too much, doubted every choice she made.

"What do you want?" Zoli asked again.

Tamaka pressed a hand between them, over her stomach. Despite the fear, this child had felt right since the first moment she suspected she was pregnant. She knew it would not be easy raising another little one now that she was on her own, but—

She wasn't on her own. She had Zoli. She had a whole kingdom of people who had never doubted her, even when she doubted herself. She had closed herself off, but that had been her choice. No one had pushed her away. No one had closed their hearts to her. She had shut them out, thinking she would be safer if she didn't have to love again, but she wanted to love again.

She already loved this child.

"I want this," she said. "I want this son."

Zoli pulled back with a chuckle. "Then to hell with your old clothes, if you can't find them. Go to the tailors and get new ones."

Tamaka bit back a watery smile, brushing away her tears. "Am I a fool?" she asked.

"I've known you to be many things, but I've never known you to be a fool." Zoli bent, her face on level with Tamaka's stomach. "Your mother was a hellion once open a time," she whispered, "but don't let her ever tell you she was a fool. You're going to be as smart and headstrong and brave as her."

"And perhaps he'll have a voice like his father's, since I can't sing a note," Tamaka laughed.

Zoli frowned, then pursed her lips. "I'll help you clean up." She picked up a few more scattered items of clothing and folded them on the daybed as Tamaka pulled the rumpled items back out of the chests and set them to rights. Tamaka could feel the question in her silence.

"Say it," she said. "Whatever you're trying so hard not to say."

"Do you want him found?" Zoli asked. "The bard. Do you want him... notified? I'm sure that tavern keeper has his name. I could send out scouts."

Tamaka started, dropping the leggings she'd picked up. "No." She'd tried her best not to think of Anslo in the past three months. She didn't regret a moment she'd spent with him. Perhaps that was part of the problem. She would have liked more. She missed his touch, his gentleness and kindness, his wicked smile. But dwelling on it would make her heartsick.

It was not his fault this had happened, and she had no intention of burdening him with it. It was her choice to keep the little orcling. Thinking about its father would undoubtedly be painful at times, joyful at others. But she'd managed perfectly fine with Dregu the past four years. She would manage on her own with this young one, too.

"Don't do that," she ordered. "I wouldn't want to bother him."

Zoli hummed noncommittally but said nothing else.

Together, they packed the rest of the clothes away, Tamaka feeling lighter with every minute. There was still a weight on her soul: the kingdom, the war, her son growing up without his father. Those were not worries that would go away easily. They might stay with her forever. But she didn't need to add to them with this.

She would have another child, and a few people might look sideways at her, but that didn't matter. In this one thing, she could let herself be happy.

One of the king's guards entered as they closed the last of the chests. "Apologies, my king," he said between rapid breaths. "There has been..." His face screwed up with discomfort and he looked at the floor.

"Is it the elves?" Zoli asked sharply. Her mind was always on the war with the Crimson Forest elves; her first thought at each piece of bad news was always that the war had turned against them. Tamaka didn't blame her. She felt the same, though she held her tongue. As king, she could not afford to show fear so openly.

"No, commander," the guard hastened to assure her. "There was an incident. At a bakery in Stonerath."

That did not sound like the sort of small issue the king was usually bothered with, though Tamaka was always happy to help any citizens who needed her. "What kind of incident?"

The guard grimaced, scratching the back of his neck with a large grey-green hand. "Your children... were involved."

Zoli sucked in a breath and Tamaka frowned. "Are they injured?"

"No, Your Majesty!" The orc fidgeted and an unpleasant feeling simmered in the pit of Tamaka's stomach. "There was some food destroyed. A counter broken. The baker is... not pleased."

"Our children destroyed property?" Tamaka asked. Bula and Dregu were a bit wild and often encouraged each other in less than productive ways, but they were not destructive. They were kind, thoughtful children beneath the normal bluster and foolishness of their youthful years.

Zoli looked equally bemused. "And where are they?"

The guard shifted uncomfortably again. "The prince refused to come see you, my king," he said. "When they were detained, he said he preferred to be... arrested."

That was even less like Dregu. When he behaved poorly, he was quick to attempt making amends. He'd always had a soft heart, been the sort of child who rescued injured animals and cried to see them hurt. He had a great deal of Tamaka's tempestuous temper, but he had much of his father's caring nature as well.

"Take us there," Tamaka ordered, marching out of the cave. The guard hurried ahead of her.

"I don't believe it," Zoli muttered behind her. Tamaka nodded.

The guard led them down from the mountainside neighborhood of King's Rest to the streets of Stonerath. A small crowd was gathered around a bakery on the high street, a few little orclings watching with wide eyes as Tamaka stormed inside. Zoli followed her, the guard blocking the door so no one else could slip inside for a closer look.

Dregu was sitting on a crate, his arms crossed and a fierce scowl on his face, a guard holding fast to his shoulder. Bula stood as far away from him as she could get in the front of the shop, her hands clasped behind her back and a suspiciously innocent expression on her face, betrayed by the smear of powdered sugar on her cheek.

The floor was littered with shards of glass, splinters of wood, and stepped-on pastries. Behind Dregu, one of the bakery's display cases was smashed. A very irate baker stood behind it, her pointed elven ears crimson with anger.

"Gods above," Zoli whispered.

Bula pointed quickly at Dregu. "He did it," she said. Dregu curled his lip at her then slumped further on the crate, his chin dropping to his chest.

"He did," the baker confirmed. "And then she stole three pear tarts."

"Did you?" Zoli asked, her voice a deceptive calm that would have terrified one of her scouts. "Are where are those three tarts?"

Bula swallowed, looking at the floor. "In her stomach," the baker snapped.

"She'll bring you the money for them tomorrow," Zoli said with a sharp nod, gripping her daughter's arm. "And you will not be having sweets for a month, possibly two," she muttered to Bula as she dragged her out. Bula cast an apologetic look at Dregu over her shoulder, but the prince was too busy staring at the floorboards to see.

Tamaka had not seen her son look so utterly miserable since Vagar's death. She crouched in front of him and waved the guard holding him away. "What did you do?" she asked.

At the soft tone of her voice, he looked up quickly, then back down at the floor, his forehead creasing in guilt. "Broke it," he grumbled.

"A day's worth of baking, gone," the baker added with a huff. "And a display case, brand new from the glaziers, utterly ruined."

"Yes, thank you," Tamaka said, her eyes never leaving her son as he seemed to shrink even further into himself. "I assure you, you will be compensated."

Dregu wiped his nose on the back of his fist and Tamaka sucked in a breath, catching his arm and turning it to the light. His forearms were covered in scratches and cuts, shards of broken glass still embedded here and there in the skin. She'd wondered what he'd used to smash the case. He must have used his bare arms.

What, in all that was holy, had possessed him?

She stood abruptly. "I will be back to speak with you," she told the baker. "Come." She put a hand on Dregu's shoulder and he edged away from her slightly. She cleared her throat so he wouldn't hear the threat of tears in her voice. "Let us go home. Be careful of your arms."

Head still lowered, he followed her out of the bakery. A few of the guards flanked them, shielding him from some of the curious stares of the on-lookers, but that wouldn't stop the gossip. By tomorrow, it would be all over the city that the king's son had rampaged through a bakery. So be it. He would have to live with the consequences of his actions. As soon as this fit of temper was over, she knew he would be eager to apologize and make amends, but he would live with the shame for a little while.

Dregu remained silent the whole way back to their home carved into the cliffside of King's Rest. He barely looked at her when she sat him down in the kitchen and wet a cloth to clean his wounds. Tamaka knelt beside him and picked the glass from his cuts. "What happened?" she asked.

Dregu's sniff was loud in the silence of the cave. "Wanted some pastries," he muttered.

"So, you broke a whole case and scattered them on the floor?" Tamaka clicked her tongue. "I don't believe that for a moment." He looked up at her as she wiped the blood from his arms with the cloth and she bit back a smile. "I believe you did it," she said, holding his arm up as proof. "But I don't believe you wanted pastries. You would have come home for money." She took a jar of salve from the cabinet that she kept to soothe burns and cuts from cooking, and dabbed it on his cuts. "Why did you do it?"

Her son remained silent for long minutes, his sniffs punctuating the silence, though he refused to wipe his tears. Tamaka waited. He wouldn't be able to hold out forever. He would speak when he was ready.

"I heard you," he said finally. "You said you're having another son."

Tamaka froze. She'd counted on having another few weeks to process her own feelings before having to talk to Dregu about this. She would give anything for Vagar to be here right now to explain everything in his patient, calm way.

But if Vagar was here, they wouldn't be in this predicament to begin with.

"Help me understand," she said slowly. "You overheard me speaking with Zoli and then... you committed a crime?"

Dregu's shoulders hunched, his chin jutting out as he frowned up at her. "You don't love father anymore," he grumbled. "And you don't love me, and you're going to replace me."

Tamaka blinked at him for a moment. Then she pulled him up from the stool and wrapped him in a tight embrace. He stood stiffly for a moment, refusing to touch her, before his hands slowly wound around her waist, his cheek pressing against her chest. "Oh, my love, my darling," she breathed against his hair. "I will never, ever, replace you." He shuddered slightly and she felt a few tears soak into the front of her tunic. His hands clutched at her as if he still worried she would push him away.

Smoothing her hands over his back and the bony jut of his shoulders, she held him close until his tears subsided. Then she took him out to the balcony room and sat him on the daybed while she fetched bandages from the armory in the back of the cave. He was still sniffling when she returned, but he held his arms out obediently for her to wrap them.

"There has not been a day of the past four years that I have not missed your father," she told him. "And when I miss him the most, I have only to look at you and I feel happiness again. But no matter how much we may want him to, he is not coming back. You understand that, don't you?" She took his chin in her hand when he didn't answer and lifted his head, and he nodded once.

"I will never be able to replace him, because he was unique," she explained. "But after people lose someone they love, eventually they move on. They don't forget, but they find new people to fill their hearts. Does that make sense, Dregu?"

His lips thinned for a moment as she tied off the bandages. "But you're going to make another family," he said.

"I have a family with you." She sat beside him and smoothed a hand down his braid. "And you are going to help me welcome another child to our family. But I am not going to make a family without you. Never. I promise you that."

He shifted closer, resting his head on her shoulder, and Tamaka relaxed slightly. "But... you will have another mate," he whispered. "What if he doesn't like me?"

"Perhaps, someday." He was far too large to sit on her lap anymore, but she hugged him close, arms wrapped around him. "This child—" She hesitated. He understood how orclings were made, though he was still at the age where he found the concept repulsive. Yet she wasn't sure how honest to be with him about their situation. She almost laughed. Neither of them had been in this situation before. They would muddle through together. "This child's father is far away by now. He is a traveling bard, a nice man, but we didn't mean to make a child. It was an accident. I am not sorry, though. I think it was a good accident, and I have always wanted to give you a little sibling. Your father always wanted it, but... we ran out of time."

He looked up at her. "You will not marry him?"

"Like I said, he is far away. He may never come back. And I will miss him, but that's alright. He has his own life, and I will be happy to raise this little one alone. Though I won't be alone, will I?" She squeezed his shoulder. "You are going to be a wonderful big brother, and you can teach him everything you know." She smiled as his mood brightened slightly. "He will adore you, Dregu."

"You think so?" he asked.

"I know so. It is impossible not to adore you. Even when you resort to crime," she scolded.

He ducked his head again. "I'm sorry about the bakery."

"I know you are." She sighed. "You did all that because you thought I was going to abandon you?"

Dregu shrugged, picking at his bandages. "I felt like... I wanted to break something. And Bula cheered. She thought it was good fun."

"Of course she did." Tamaka rolled her eyes. "But you know better than to use your fists when you can use your words. Your father would be disappointed at what you did today." He flinched slightly and she wondered if that was too harsh a thing to say when he was already feeling his father's absence more strongly than he had in a while. "It's alright to make mistakes, so long as you make amends," she reassured him. "You are going to apologize to that baker and clean up her shop, and then you're going to work there, fetching, carrying, sweeping, kneading dough, whatever she needs until you've worked off the cost of that display case."

He nodded solemnly, then his gaze darted to her stomach. "But don't you need my help? Isn't it difficult to do things when you're pregnant?"

Gods, she loved this child. He was all the best parts of her and Vagar put together. "Not for a while yet," she laughed. "Not until I grow much bigger." She mimed a very pregnant belly, and his eyes widened. "You will help me, but first you will fix your mistakes."

"And you promise I get to hold him?" Dregu asked, pointing at her abdomen. "I get to take care of him?"

Tamaka kissed the top of his head. "I promise."