Chapter 9 #2
“Yes, General!” the prince barks out in that ruined voice of his.
“Then follow Gunag and I’ll see you at the evening drills,” I say.
Rognar moves to obey, but hesitates just for a moment, turning back. I think for a moment he is looking to be dismissed by the king, but his eyes are only for his mother.
“It’s all right, Rognar,” Lady Melelea says, her voice quiet and encouraging. “Go. I am proud of you.”
Very deliberately, Rognar makes the sign of respect toward his mother and father, but I get the feeling that it is meant for his mother alone. Guruk must have made his disappointment in his son very clear to have so little regard from Rognar.
Guruk does not seem to notice the slight, however, accepting the sign of respect as if it were meant for him. He waves a dismissive hand. “Obey your general, Son. We’ll see you in a few years when you have toughened up.”
Rognar accepts his father’s word stoically, then turns swiftly and follows Gunag into the cohort. Gunag will take him to the trainee tent and then get him in rank.
“Now,” says Guruk, sounding jovial once again. “Shall we feast?”
I incline my head and respond, “Of course, My King. We have prepared a sumptuous meal for you and your retinue. If you’ll follow me.”
???
LATER, DEEP IN the night, when the revels of the feast are still going, I duck out and relieve the perimeter guard.
This is where I feel most at home. In the dark, under the stars, watching and wary, with no audience with expectations of me.
The quiet is my home, with no responsibilities of command to burden me.
We train not far from my clan lands, and I feel like I can smell the scents of home on the breeze if I concentrate hard enough.
Maybe someday soon, I’ll be relieved of my command and I can go home to pick up a plow, but that will not happen this day.
Besides, I find that I do not miss home quite as much today, now that I have Melelea’s son under my care.
His being here gives me a purpose that I have not felt in a long time.
As I stand guard, I suddenly hear some quiet weeping not far from where I am standing.
Cautiously, I move toward the sound. We have received quite a few new trainees in the last few months, and it is not entirely out of the ordinary for one of them to weep from the fatigue of training or homesickness.
It is frowned upon at large in orc society, where serving in the Horde is seen as a great honor, but I find that a comforting ear from a superior officer does wonders to dismiss such things in a way that censure does not.
I round one of the tents, fully expecting to see a trainee, when I am surprised to see Lady Melelea. She weeps like her heart will break, and it tears into my chest like a blade. Her quiet sobs are muted through her hands as she obviously is trying to hold back her cries.
This is an intimate moment, a vulnerable time.
I doubt she would welcome me to intrude.
She probably would wish for Guruk or someone else.
Maybe to just be alone. I step back, intending to leave her to her solitude, when I accidentally step on a twig, which snaps.
Lady Melelea starts, rounding toward the noise, then relaxes when she sees me.
“Oh, General Wodred, it is just you.”
“Apologies, my lady,” I say. “I seem to have a knack for startling you.”
“You do,” she says, but there is no censure in her voice. She wipes her eyes and continues, “I’m sorry if I disturbed you. I just find saying goodbye to my son . . . difficult.”
“You are a good mother,” I remark.
For some reason, Lady Melelea flinches at those words. “I could be better,” she says softly, almost low enough that I can’t hear her. “Stronger.”
Is this some nonsense from Guruk? Blaming her for her son’s lack of sibilance? A crying child is no one’s fault. To blame herself is foolishness.
“You are strong, my lady,” I reply firmly. “You are not the first parent to weep when their orcling reaches the training years, and you will not be the last. That is not a failing on your part.”
Lady Melelea absorbs my words for a moment, then a small smile graces her lovely lips. “You are kind, General Wodred. Has anyone ever told you that?”
“Never,” I respond. “I am more often told that I am uptight and boring.”
“Ah, yes,” she laughs softly. “‘Brother Wodred.’ I’d forgotten. They are wrong though. You are serious and duty-minded, but behind that is kindness, which is its own type of strength. I’m glad that if I must leave my son, I am leaving him with you.”
“I will protect him with my life, my lady,” I vow to her and I mean it. I will protect him as if he were my own.
Lady Melelea sniffles slightly. “I will hold you to that, General. Now, I must go. Guruk will be wondering where I am.”
The mention of Guruk douses cold water on the close feeling of this exchange. Of course, her husband. She is with him, not me. I must remember that.
“Good night, General,” she says softly, her husky voice feeling like velvet over my skin. Then she ducks between the tents and is gone.
“What was that?” I hear Salthu say behind me. I whirl around to see him standing not far away. I was so engrossed in my talk with Lady Melelea that I didn’t hear him approach.
“What do you mean?” I hedge.
“You were comforting Guruk’s female,” Salthu says bluntly. Then mockingly mimics, “‘I’ll protect him with my life, my lady.’ What are you doing, giving borderline Oaths to females that aren’t yours?”
“She’s the Queen Consort,” I say, once again dodging the question.
Salthu snorts. “Barely. She’s just a female in a long line of females that Guruk has had. But be careful, my friend. He is the most territorial over that one. He will not take kindly to you getting close to her, even if you are ‘Brother Wodred,’ and he doesn’t have to worry about you.”
“Your concern is noted,” I say dryly. “But I’m not trying to take Guruk’s wife.”
No matter how much I wish to, I finish silently.
“Good,” Salthu says, obviously considering the matter closed. “I came to find you because I have news.”
“What news?” I ask.
“I’m leaving the Northern Horde.”
My brows raise. “Really? I thought you were happy here?”
“Don’t misunderstand. You are a good friend and leader, but I need a command of my own. I’m ready to step into my own light and Guruk has just offered one to me.”
“Congratulations,” I say. “What command?”
“I’m to be the head of his hunters,” Salthu tells me. “It’s not as prestigious as ‘general,’ but I’ll have my own cabinet of orcs and be at court. It’s an auspicious position.”
“Well, I am happy for you, my friend,” I say. “You deserve it, after all your years of service.”
“I’m sorry to leave you in the lurch, though,” Salthu replies. “You’ll need a new second.”
“I’ll find one,” I respond evenly. “I always make do.”
“That you do,” agrees Salthu. Then he gets serious again. “But, truly, Wodred, do not get close to Lady Melelea again. Guruk likes you now, but he will crush you if he thinks you intend to steal his female.”
The thought that Guruk could crush me is amusing, though I do not say so. In a Challenge between us, there is no doubt in my mind, I could kill him. It is only Lady Melelea and the fact that I do not want to be king that stays my hand.
“Lady Melelea is not the kind of female that can be stolen,” I reply. “She is honest and loyal. If he doesn’t trust her, he is a fool.”
“Be that as it may,” Salthu warns, “fools are easily angered and logic has no meaning to them. Just stay away from that trolless. For your own good.”
“You worry too much, Salthu,” I say. “I have no intentions toward the lady.”
Salthu narrows his eyes at me, looking at me with a critical glare, before nodding. “All right, Wodred. But if you ignore me, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I won’t,” I say, then change the subject. “But what are we doing out here when we should be drinking to your promotion? Chief Hunter Salthu. It has a good ring to it.”
Salthu laughs, “That it does. All right, let’s drink. It’ll be the last we'll be together for a long time.”
“True,” I say. “Lead the way.”
Then we head back to the feast, my ears ringing with Salthu’s warnings and Lady Meleleas’ tears.