Korik stood there for a long moment alone, turning the conversation over in his mind. He had no qualms about swearing loyalty to Zorvut or to the elves—he’d had no love for the warlord and was grateful for the peace the alliance had brought—but still the exchange felt heavy somehow.
He was just tired, he thought, and Zorvut had been tired and vulnerable as well. That was all there was to it. He would feel better after resting.
His footsteps echoed loudly down the empty hallway as he turned and headed for the guest quarters that had been prepared for him. He’d get some rest, check up on the prince and the newborn princess in the morning, then finally head back to his home and his shop and his cat. He’d feel better about it all then.
Chapter One
Korik
“Asummonsforyou,Healer Korik.”
The elf soldier handed him a folded-up slip of parchment. He had been by the shop enough times that Korik recognized his face, though not his name. Even elves now relied on him as a healer in Drol Kuggradh, and he had made an effort at least to remember their names, so he reasoned that this elf was a more recent transfer to the city.
The summons was unexpected. He had been summoned to the tower where the king and his husband resided many times before, of course; but these days he was scheduled to come by once per month for a routine checkup on their daughter, the young princess Nahara. His last visit could not have been more than ten days ago; but if it were an emergency, or someone was injured, the soldier would surely have had a more urgent air about him. The elf only stood holding out the slip of parchment, eyes flickering away from Korik to look at Roz where she was perched on the counter, idly licking a paw. If he were more interested in the cat than the message, it could not be anything dire.
He took the parchment. The elf soldier gave him a sharp nod, then turned away from him entirely to offer the calico cat his hand. Roz paused her grooming to sniff it, but was unimpressed; she went back to licking her paw and ignoring the elf, who only chuckled and let his hand drop.
“I’m to bring your reply, too, sir,” the soldier added. Korik only nodded, unfolding the note.
Healer Korik,
A sensitive matter has arisen for which your assistance would be greatly appreciated. Please report to Commander Varen Petkas at your earliest convenience.
Prince Taegan Glynzeiros
That was all. Korik frowned, looking at the soldier again.
“Do you know what this is about?” he asked. The boy shook his head.
“They tell me to deliver a letter, I deliver the letter, sir. Sorry,” he replied. “I’m not important enough to know anything else.”
Korik sighed and scanned the note again, as if it might offer him more details this time. He did not know the commander named in the missive; and it was strange that the letter came from the prince, yet bid him to report to a different elf.
His first thought was that another elf was pregnant—that was why he had been in the service of the prince in the first place, after all. While there were elven healers in Drol Kuggradh, the three currently stationed in the orc city were less versed in the sort of medicine Korik could provide. He had no formal training in midwifery either, but had helped deliver a handful of orc babies before the elven prince approached him about his own child. In the year since, he had helped deliver two more half-elf, half-orc children born within the city, and while he had no such patients now, he expected to see more the longer the peace treaty was in place. Now, he’d become something of a fixture amongst the elves living in Drol Kuggradh; whatever their medics couldn’t help with, or were too busy to address, ended up landing on his plate.
He couldn’t complain. It made for good business. Besides, he’d never entirely fit in with other orcs, even the few who had chosen to live in one place like him, and this was just another oddity to add to the list.
He’d been staring down at the slip of parchment for an uncomfortably long moment; the elf soldier was busying himself with trying to get Roz’s attention, but he could see the boy’s bright eyes glancing back toward him impatiently.
“I will need to close up the shop,” Korik replied simply. “But I’ll be there shortly.”
“I’ll pass the message along, sir,” the elf replied, giving a half-hearted salute before turning to go.
When the elf was gone, he and Roz shared a look.
“Annoying,”she hissed, and he chuckled, patting her head. He had the same thought. As his familiar, her reactions were very often his own, though he had the decency to keep them to himself.
“I know,” he sighed, tidying the counter. “Tell me if anyone comes by while I’m gone.”
A faint sense of acknowledgment came from her, though she had started grooming herself again, this time swiping her paw over her face.
Korik took his time closing up the shop, mulling over the missive again. It couldn’t be something the matter with the king or the prince themselves, otherwise he would not have been directed to report to a different elf. But then, he wondered, why the summons? Why couldn’t they just come here?
Well, the sooner he made his way to the elven barracks, the sooner he’d find out. Just in case, he brought his travel kit with the basics he would need for a typical house call. Then he locked the shop door behind him, Roz watching him through the window, and headed toward the edge of the city where the elven military force was stationed.
As he walked, he passed a family of elves that he didn’t recognize near the town square. Their little child stared at him with huge eyes as he hurried past. His height always drew attention—no matter how much he tried to hunch over, or cover his frame with loose clothes.
The past two years had changed everything about the city, so it was no longer surprising to see elves on the streets. Orcs were by far still the majority in Drol Kuggradh, but the elven presence was steadily growing. Now, there were even a few families completely unrelated to the military presence in the city. Since King Zorvut had taken the throne and done away with the old customs, Drol Kuggradh felt entirely different, at least in some ways. Korik was still the same—spindly and awkward and quiet—the regular residents of the city were used to him, but with every day that passed there were more unfamiliar faces gawking at him.
