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“Are you and Tok mated now?” I ask her.
“We may as well be,” she grumbles. “I’m always in his tent now. You’re in Bak’s. But, you and I, Jogug—we always intended to get mated at the same time. Not exactly a marriage, like the humans perform. But we hoped the orc king would pronounce us.” She shrugs. “It was a stupid, little girl wish. Back when he used to tell us he was all-powerful.” She gives a giggle at that and I’m confused. Isn’t he powerful?
She reaches over and pats my knee. “You’ll see. Just give us a chance. Even if your memories don’t come back, you may find that you like us anyway. That you could be happy with us. Probably happier than you were with your... clan.” She tries not to wrinkle her nose when she says the word, but I can see the distaste carefully washed from her expression.
“They were not the most attractive—or clean—of males,” I admit. “Unsure of where they learned their manners, but they ate like pigs. Smelled like them too.”
She giggles. “Not like Bakog.”
“Not like Bakog at all. I never knew orcs could look like him.”
“Or like Tok,” she says dreamily. “You don’t remember him, but he’s a bit older than us. Was a full man when we were still girls. Set me on fire, he did.”
I can’t help the unladylike snort. “Drove him crazy, didn’t you?”
She turns serious. “Oh, you know it. I’ve never seen a male hold out as long as him. And the distraction was a thing too. Distracting Bakog, that is. You see, you had to distract him by dancing with him all the time so I could chase after Tok. Worked really well. You were the only one that could make Bakog’s brain go completely gaga.”
“But he held me off too, didn’t he?”
“Aye. He felt he had no choice. Probably kicking himself now, knowing the prediction couldn’t be averted and he wasted years of being fully mated to you.” Her hand covers mine. “Still, I think the goddess has a way of working things out for the better. We have so many trials and each one that we endure makes us stronger. Your mother, for example. Did you know she had a previous husband?”
I can feel my lips tighten. Because isn’t that what West Mountain orcs do? They covet women, even when they belong to another.
“Treated her so badly. He was old and ugly. Her father refused to allow him to marry her, so he paid the Blackhearts to burn half the village, including their farm. When she was orphaned and homeless, she had no choice but to marry him. But she got away on her own and took his prize steed, Pegasus, for her own. And she still remained sweet and generous through all that. When she met an orc whose steed had just died? She had nothing to her name but her coin purse, and empty satchel, a vessel for water and a pot. Yet she gave her horse to another because, as she said, he needed it. When the orc prince, Brun, asked her what she would do if she wanted to leave Solaya after giving away her steed? She shrugged and said she’d figure something out. So, for that one, heartfelt gift—giving something so precious to another that made all the difference for them—the goddess blessed her over and over, giving her anything that she wanted. A baby girl? She got you. When you wanted brothers? Joanna only had to ask and the goddess gave her two.”
“And now she wants another?” I ask.
“Aye, the last. Only Joanna could decide she’ll have one more, and blam. One moonlit blessing later, she’s seeded.” Then she turns sly. “Though our precious old Mag claims the credit. Says it was our magics that appealed to the goddess. And your mother is so sweet, she tells her that is probably the case, even when every other female in the village rolls her eyes.”
I can’t help the snort. It must be fun to be around these females.
“I know you want to leave the village soon,” she says softly. “But will you at least stay another night or two until the next full moon and we offer another ritual? I think it will help to give you back your memories. We all want to help.”
“All?” I ask, somewhat warily.
“Your sisters.” She waves her hand at the village behind us. “All of us females that participate in the magics.” Then she stops to think. “Actually, I think every female in the entire village has been in at some point. Huh. I never realized that. We’re quite a popular group. No wonder the males were so curious when they first started, but it’s been so long now it’s just become a fact of life.”
Bakog and I have already stayed an extra day. I imagine one more, two or three tops, won’t make much of a difference.
“I think we can stay,” I say finally.
Seeing the relief on her face is worth it. She truly believes their rituals will help.
I’M MORE IMPRESSED with the Southpeaks than I had been the first time I rode out. Not only did they capture two of the rogue Blackhearts, but they tricked the others into thinking they were safe and then locked them up for us.
Even more impressive is the same scout who’d approached us before happens to be one of the clan leaders. Unlike some clans who dispatch lowly scouts out, this clan sent a leader.
“We meet again,” I say, dismounting Tobias.
“Aye, prince.” He spits sunflower shells on the ground as I approach.
“What do you wish as payment?” I snarl, in case the spitting was an insult and he doesn’t intend to release the prisoners at all.
I’ll decorate every tree in their territory with their limbs, if so.
His response is a smirk. “Gold? How much would you be willing to give?”
“How much do you want?” I counter. There’s nothing I wouldn’t pay for these three. But he doesn’t need to know that.
