His voice was careful on her name, but proud, too, and his other hand slid close around her bare waist, drawing her forward. Wanting these terrifying orcs to see her, and though Ella’s form slightly trembled, she managed to hold her head up, and even tried for a smile.
“Hello,” she said, with a little curtsey. “It’s so lovely to meet you all.”
Natt’s hand gave an approving squeeze to her waist, and then he began the introductions, while Ella fought to embed the names and faces into her memory. The tallest two orcs, both spiky-haired and similar-looking, were named Thrain and Thrak, and they were apparently blood brothers, born to the same mother. Next was Varinn, slightly shorter and broader, wearing a long braid, and flashing Ella a sharp-toothed smile that felt wary, but genuine. And last was Dammarr, the loose-haired, nipple-pierced orc who was still looking Ella up and down, and sneering as though she were somehow offensive by her very presence.
“You did not say, brother,” he said, his black eyes finally flicking to Natt’s face, “that she was scent-bound to you.”
It sounded almost — accusing, somehow, and Ella could feel Natt shift beside her, the muscles tensing under his skin. “Ach,” he said, “for now.”
Dammarr’s eyes snapped back to Ella, narrowing with clear disapproval. “Are you not betrothed to a man, woman?” he demanded. “Do you not seek to wed this man? The one who hunts our brother, and seeks tokillhim?”
Ella felt herself wince, her eyes casting a furtive, uncertain glance toward Natt. “Um,” she said, under her breath, “I’m not certain we should speak of such things, here?”
“Ach, we know all his secrets,” cut in one of the tall, spiky-haired brothers — Thrak — with a smirk toward Natt’s forbidding face. “But these are not spoken of among the rest of our kin.Ach, Dammarr?”
He’d reached around Varinn to yank at a handful of Dammarr’s loose hair, but Dammarr entirely ignored him, and kept frowning at Ella. “So you yet mean to wed this man,” he said, the contempt all too clear in his voice. “So why has this man not claimed you for his own? Why has he not touched you? Why are you yet scent-bound to anorc?”
Ella was feeling entirely lost, and she shrank backwards, darting another helpless glance up at Natt — only to find that he was already glowering at this Dammarr, his face thunderous, his jaw set. “Ignore my brother, lass,” he hissed. “And you shallleavethis, Dammarr.”
But Ella was oddly caught on that unfamiliar wordscent-bound, and she heard her traitorous voice speaking, before she could stop it. “I — I don’t understand. What do you mean, I’m scent-bound to him?”
Dammarr’s lip curled, but he didn’t reply, and beside him Varinn cleared his throat. “He means,” he said, with an elbow into Dammarr’s side, “that you smell only of Nattfarr, and no one else. We call this scent-bound. It is” — he shot a glance at Natt’s face — “a rare prize, among orcs. And most of all amongst the Grisk.”
Oh. Ella’s cheeks felt very hot, and Dammarr pointed a clawed finger at her, again almost accusing. “Why have you not touched this man, or another? You are not a new woman. Is there aught amiss with you?”
Natt twitched beside her, and Ella felt her own body reflexively stiffening in response. “I — I don’t think so,” she said, her voice thin. “I mean — my mother didn’t approve, and virtue is a valuable currency for women like me, and I, well” — she drew in breath, and just said it, in a rush — “I swore a pledge. To Natt.”
And she couldn’t explain why, but standing here beside Natt, dressed like this, facing four strange orcs, in Orc Mountain — that last part felt real. Felt the most true. And surely, that pledge hadn’t been why Ella had waited, all that time? Or had it?
All four orcs were looking at Natt now, Dammarr with raised eyebrows, Varinn with something not unlike sympathy, and the other two with surprised, identical faces. To which Natt gave a jerky shrug of his shoulder, and snapped something in black-tongue that made Varinn grimace, and had Dammarr angling another sullen, sneering look toward Ella.
“You smell as though you havebathedin our brother’s seed, woman,” he snapped. “You ought not to tease him thus. The Speaker of the Grisk ought to have better than one who should dangle such a gift, and next steal it away, and grant it to the manhuntinghim.”
Oh. Ella flinched, her eyes held to the floor, her exposed body drawing backwards. And suddenly the need to leave, to run, was almost overpowering, and she tugged against Natt’s grip, as surreptitiously as she could, needing to go —
But Natt was too strong, his hand clutching her close against his side. “I told you to leave this, Dammarr,” he growled. “If you wish to keep your place in my guard, you shall obey my commands, and treat my woman with kindness. I shall not warn you again.”
There was an instant’s quiet, in which Thrak gave another surreptitious yank at Dammarr’s hair, and Natt took a swift, threatening step closer to Dammarr, while keeping his arm firm around Ella’s back. And Ella could see the moment when Dammarr relented, his black eyes angling uneasily away, his head bowing.
“Forgive me, Speaker, woman,” he said. “I ought not to have spoken thus. I only wished to ensure mylifelongbrother’s honour, and hispeace, when he has too oft been robbed of these. When he” — his eyes flicked back to Natt’s, an odd challenge in them — “too oft robshimselfof these.”
There was meaning behind those words Ella couldn’t identify, but Natt surely did, judging by the replying hiss in his throat. “You shall pay no heed to my brother, lass,” he said loudly, as he roughly shoved forward past Dammarr, dragging Ella close behind him. “Should he speak thus again to you, I shall gladly break his pretty nose whilst you watch. You shall find joy in this, I ken. I know I shall.”
There was a muffled laugh behind them — Thrak, perhaps — but Natt didn’t look back, and only pulled Ella down the corridor beside him. Walking past even more huge, unfamiliar orcs now, every single one giving them curious or uneasy looks, but Natt only nodded as they passed, and didn’t stop to speak.
“Where are we going?” Ella asked, tentatively, once the most recent of these unnerving orcs was out of view, and Natt’s steps slowed, his narrow eyes blinking at her. He was still angry, she realized, at whatever Dammarr had said, and she could see his shoulders rise, and fall.
“We have been summoned by our Captain,” he said smoothly. “I take you there now. We shall pass through the Bautul wing next, to reach the Ash-Kai.”
“And your Captain is Ash-Kai?” Ella asked. “The last one was too, right?”
Natt nodded, his gaze flicking back to the corridor ahead. “All our Captains have been Ash-Kai, back to the oldest tales. And to match this, our Speaker is always Grisk. There ought also to be a Priest, from Ka-esh, to guide our zeal and learning. I am told that Skai and Bautul once had these leaders also, though the truth of them has been lost. For now.”
Ella considered that as they walked, the corridor gradually tilting upwards. There were more openings at steady intervals in the walls, most of which she couldn’t see into, but there were the distinct sounds of movement and voices beyond, and more occasional orcs passing by in the corridor.
And these orcs, Ella noticed, seemed even larger and more alarming than before. Their faces craggy and harsh, their hair wild and thick, their bodies marked and heavily scarred. Their eyes on Ella and Natt had almost seemed to become more dangerous as well, some guarded, some disdainful, some scornful. And some, oddly enough, perhaps evenfearful.
Natt had continued nodding as he passed, but more curtly now, and when one huge orc muttered something in black-tongue, Natt snapped back in kind, the growl burning deep in his throat. Setting the orc scurrying back against the opposite wall, his black eyes gone wide and blank, and Ella only had a moment to digest that before Natt’s hand tightened around her waist, and pulled her closer against his side.
