Chapter 8 #2
“The rest of us,” he said, “we chose to deal with the baron. We entered the contract with an expectation of good faith. You didn't have that luxury.” At the bottom of a stair, he helped me to the ground. “If you’ll come this way, we’ll have something to eat soon.”
The forest floor in this bizarre cavern, this place with its pocket of sky, was open and soft, paths denoted by rocks, only roots and ferns to step around. Water burbled ahead, and orcs, older than the ones I’d met, faces kind or creased with concern, waved to us from courtyards and firesides.
“They all know you,” I said.
“Of course.”
An older woman with animal claws as earrings openly stared, her disapproval following me.
Children’s voices broke the quiet, echoing off the trees.
“Khal!”
A knot of them barrelled out of the tall ferns, several colliding against our legs, and Khal steadied me. They seemed so alien with leaves in their hair and the cast of their skin, but these were children’s faces, children’s eyes, and they shrieked and babbled at us, grabbing at him.
Khal answered them, pointed at me. They gasped.
The whole cohort was staring at me now, wide and challenging eyes.
A small girl- I think she was a girl- grabbed my skirt and tried to lift it.
I pulled away. It was like they were asking a hundred questions, rapid fire, and Khal was firing back answers, very quickly, till he switched to Common.
“And we’re all being rude, because Rowena doesn’t speak Orcish. It’s Common or nothing.”
There were cries of consternation.
“I don’t care. She’s hungry, and I’m taking my wife to get food.” He started moving, and they moved with us, running and sliding and scrambling on the leaves.
"Why did you marry a fa-grik?"
"We don't use that word."
"Yeah, but why?"
"Because we chose each other." He was starting to walk faster, brusque. There was color at his neck.
"Is he strong?"
"She's very strong."
"She doesn't look strong."
"There are different ways to be strong."
"Is she strong in her arms, or in her butt?"
I choked, not at what the child said, but at the look on Khal's face.
He cleared his throat. "She is strong inside."
"In her guts??"
"...I killed a pthralgar," I spoke up on an impulse. I wanted to make this less awkward for him. Right away I knew I'd said the wrong thing.
The children were laughing. "A pthralgar!" one hooted. The girl-child puffed out her cheeks. "Now I'm a pthralgar!"
"A pthralhirgar," Khal corrected quietly.
"I killed a pthralhirgar."
They stopped laughing. "How?"
"She hit it with fire, from her hands."
"She's got fire?"
“She's got magic!"
"I told you," he said. "She's strong." Khal didn't look at me as he said it. A knot twisted in my gut.
A voice in Orcish called over the others, and the children abandoned us, shrieking down towards the bank.
A figure with a walking stick stood in the rushes, before he was bowled over by the whooping throng, and laughter echoed upwards, rich tones.
My heart sped. Even at this distance, I knew he was human.
Khal had stiffened beside me, stopped in his tracks. His face was a torrent of emotion. “I didn’t know he would be here.”
“Who?”
“My father. He’s usually in the fire circles or with the weavers. He must…” He looked away.
I touched his arm, on impulse, and he flinched. There was more fabric under his shirt. Why was Khal still wearing a shirt? “Khal—" What to say? "—we don’t have to go this way. We could go back. Or…or if you wanted, I could go back…”
He shook his head. “I haven’t been cooking. We both need to eat.” There were shadows under his eyes. “He’s not…dangerous. I had just meant to keep you apart a little longer.”
I wanted so badly to ask why.
“He is…very set on the idea of you staying. With me.” He didn’t meet my eyes.
This was not a problem I had even vaguely considered. “Oh,” I whispered.
“This isn’t fair to put on you. If he gets to be too much I will demand that he stop—"
“No. No, it’s fine.” Having people imagine that I was a better person than the reality was not the worst thing I could endure. “I’ll…I’ll be okay.” I was still holding his sleeve.
His eyes lingered on my face, those lips still pressed tight in concern. But he jerked a nod, started guiding me, again, down towards the water. My steps really weren’t as steady as they should be.
There was a house there, ferns and moss grown over the roof. In contrast to the houses we’d passed before, the door and window frames here were painted, bright patterns of wildflowers and leaves.
An older orc woman rushed over, and Khal didn’t shrink back, and I tried not to flinch. She took his face in her hands, a fluid stream of Orcish tumbling from her lips. He answered, gently. She shook her head, and looked at me.
“Rowena, this is my grandmother. She’s only worried that I haven’t slept.”
I looked at this woman, her soft cheeks and sad eyes. Her mouth was a thin line, like any attempt she made at a smile was swallowed up by worry. “Nice to meet you,” I whispered.
Khal translated, the words taking far longer for him.
She was leading us inside. She pulled at his hands, his arm, did not touch me. Khal slipped an arm free to keep me from falling, help me over the stoop.
I expected the house to be dark inside, like commoners’ houses usually were.
Instead a fire burned cheerily in the center, and glowing fungi in various colors traced between the rafters.
An older orc man, thin and severe, sat by the fire.
He did not look at us. Khal greeted him verbally, and he did not respond.
The quiet was paralyzing as the old woman fetched gourds down from the rafters, and started ladling some kind of stew into each.
Khal murmured thanks and I attempted to mimic him, though my tongue stumbled.
She nodded tightly. Khal was drinking his out of the gourd- maybe spoons weren’t a thing here- and I tried it.
It tasted rich, like butter and kidney and cabbage.
And suddenly I was so hungry that I felt like I had a hollow inside.
Khal watched me, started to give me part of his, and the old woman’s voice scolded, took my bowl to ladle in more.
“Thank you,” I said. She didn’t answer.
A voice boomed in Common behind us. “Someone told me I could find my son and daughter-in-law in here!”
I turned to meet Piotr Drazha’s-Husband for the first time.
Khal’s father was shorter than him, slighter, maybe only a few inches taller than I was.
He carried a gnarled and polished walking stick, and it took me a moment to register that he needed it- one of his legs was decidedly shorter than the other one.
His eyes were bright, fierce, and he was the only person in this house of suffocating silence that smiled.
He wagged a finger at Khal. “I understand some hiding from your mother after that cheeky stunt, but from your old man? Are you trying to make me die of anticipation?”
“Apologies.” Khal’s voice was tight.
“Now, no apologies here! This is time for celebration! Our family grows at last! Do you know how long this rascal has been avoiding the nuptial noose, daughter-‘o’-mine?”
“Dad. Not that.” There was a warning in his tone.
“Fine. Fine! But don’t stand around here like strangers. Take a seat! I’m sure your grandpappy won’t mind, will you, grandpappy?” He repeated himself in Orcish. The old man didn’t even shrug. “See? He’s fine! Gather round, gather round.”
“We’re fine. We should be leaving soon—"
“Are you sure about that?” He tipped his head at me, still firmly standing in the path of our exit. “Because your wife looks like she’s swaying on her feet.”
I clenched my legs, tried not to sway. Khal was already frowning.
“Fine,” he said icily. “We’ll rest for a bit.”
Khal’s father dragged his staff across the floor. “Good, good! Sit, sit!”
I sat as close to Khal and as far from everyone else as I could, trying to look comfortable and not like the atmosphere was killing me. Khal was wooden, block-shouldered.
“So Rowena was your name, wasn’t it?”
Khal winced.
I stuttered. “I…yes.”
“I’m told you had quite the harrowing journey here.”
I nodded.
“Killed one of the blood cats, too, they tell me,” his eyes shone.
“Your son killed one too.”
“Did he? He forgets to brag about himself.” He tapped Khal’s shoulder. “We need more people around here who recognize his worth, wouldn’t you agree?”
I kept the smile. Khal was eating, tense, and…oh, there were spoons on the side of the gourds, I hadn’t seen them before. I pulled out mine, tried to copy him instead of drinking meat out of a bowl. What must I look like to him?
“So Rowena. Tell us about yourself.”
“Da,” Khal said tightly, “she’s tired. She’s just awoken.”
“Khal, this is how people get to know each other. Rowena doesn’t mind. Do you, Rowena?”
“I…no.” I didn’t want to insult Khal’s father. “…but there isn’t much to tell.”
“You grew up in the baron of Belnor's castle? Beautiful area.”
I noticed he avoided the topic of my birth.
“I wouldn’t know. I didn’t get to roam much.”
“Now that’s a travesty. You must want to stretch your legs and adventure after so much time inside. Khal here, he’s an excellent traveling companion—"
“Da.” Khal’s voice had a warning tone. His father stared back, all innocence.
“I know he is.” I broke the quiet, if not the tension. “Khal is…good at everything.”
His father’s face shone. “Exactly what I’ve been saying. Could anyone find a better man than—"
“Da, that’s enough.” Khal was on his feet. There was no smile on his face.
His father’s eyes softened, grew sad. “I’m sorry, son,” he said. “You know I only want your good.”
“This is not about my good.” Anger was rolling off of him, and I wished I had a place in this scene to touch his arm, to calm him, even to speak. But this wasn’t my place. It wasn’t my home, or my father. I was the poison in the mix, making everything bad for him.