It was a thoughtful layout, to be sure, and when Ella said as much, she earned another approving pat from Natt, another glare from Dammarr. And next, Natt thankfully drew her away from his brothers, into a small room hung with fabric, and smelling strongly of incense. There was a long, narrow table at one end, featuring a row of carved figures, and when Ella stepped forward to look, she realized that this was a shrine. A place to worship one’s ancestors, perhaps, or one’s gods.
“Who are they?” she asked, eyeing the row of figures, and Natt accordingly went over, and told her their names as he touched each one with a careful, quiet reverence. Lingering particularly on one that looked vaguely familiar — “This is Grisk, the first of my people,” he said, while Ella’s thoughts flicked to the wall, and the image of the first Speaker upon it. And next Natt hesitated on a figure that was carved, oddly enough, in the shape of a woman, but with a large, rounded belly, and a pair of disproportionately swollen breasts.
“I wish you to come, and pay honour to our goddess Akva,” Natt said, with a wave over his shoulder toward Ella. “She is the mother of all five clans.”
Ella nodded and stepped closer, eyeing the fantastical figure — it was beautifully carved, and really quite shockingly vivid — and she glanced uncertainly up at Natt. “What should please her? Should I kneel?”
There was more amusement on Natt’s mouth, another flash of a challenge in those eyes. “A woman does not honour Akva with kneeling,” he said. “You must freely share with her proof of your joy, with an orc. Only then shall she count you among her daughters.”
He truly meant that too, and Ella was really doing this, shewas— but even so, she felt herself swallow hard, her eyes darting furtively between Natt, and the figure. “Is it enough if I stand here before her,” she said, “and show her this?”
She gave a fluttery wave down at her messy, sticky thighs, sure proof of their pleasure together — but of course that would be far too easy, and Natt gave a slow, purposeful shake of his head, his eyes glimmering with amusement. “Not enough,” he said. “Here, I shall help you learn this lesson.”
With that, he came closer, and spun Ella bodily around, so her back was to the carving — and then, as Ella gasped with shock, he bent her double, and yanked her too-short skirt up. Displayingeverything, utterly wanton and humiliating, to a damnedgoddess, and then — Ella moaned — sliding his clawed finger gentle, tantalizing, into her dripping-wet crease.
And then, as his fingers carefully opened her wide, and Ella could feel more of that betraying wetness slipping down her thigh, Natt spoke. Not in words that Ella understood, but instead in slow, rolling, reverent-sounding black-tongue. Asking the goddess’ favour, clearly, on Ella’s behalf, and it was all she could do to hold herself there, bared and exposed and leaking before agoddess, fighting to follow, to breathe, tobe.
When Natt finally drew Ella up again, his eyes were both dark and oddly bright, as his wet fingers came up to her mouth, sliding their salty-sweet mess between her lips. “Good lass,” he said, soft. “Akva sees you, and knows you. She is pleased with you. She is sure to bless you.”
Well. An odd, inexplicable relief unfurled under Ella’s skin, and she gave Natt a shy, shaky little smile. “Thank you,” she murmured. “I’m sure I shall need some blessing, in all this.”
Natt’s grin was warm, approving, all sharp white teeth. “Ach,” he said. “Now come. The sooner we go to Efterar, the less he shall scold us.”
But, Ella soon discovered, after another blessedly uneventful trek through the black corridors, that this big, bare-chested, scar-faced Efterar orc was indeed a scolder, and particularly when it came to Natt. “How long have you been walking around on this leg, Grisk?” he demanded at Natt, in flawless common-tongue, once he’d ordered him to sit on a lone wooden table, in what appeared to be an examination-room. “This bone has a stress fracture, your muscles are held together bythreads, and” — he peered down at Natt’s arm — “what thehellhas happened to your rotator?”
Natt gave a meaningful roll of his eyes toward Ella over Efterar’s shoulder, prompting this Efterar orc to stand up tall, and glare at Natt’s face. “I felt that, you fool Grisk,” he said flatly. “One of these days, you’ll lose a damned limb, and you’ll deserve it.”
“Ach, Ash-Kai, and some day you shall show some worry that your Speaker ishunted,” Natt shot back, though there was little true heat in it, and Ella couldn’t help feeling that they’d done this many times before. “And that your swollen-headed Captain has forbidden me from even lifting a blade. Let alone drawing the blood that ismine.”
“Yes, and he also forbade you from going out at all,” Efterar countered, now holding his big clawed hand carefully against Natt’s wounded thigh. “And look how well that worked.”
“Ach, well, he did not forbid it this time,” Natt snapped back, his eyelids fluttering closed, as he drew in a hiss through his teeth. “This time, he —“
But he abruptly broke off there, his eyes darting a furtive glance toward Ella. And there was something in that, something Natt still didn’t want her to know, and Ella fought to swallow down the surprising hurt, to hold her head high. She would prove this to him. She would.
“Will Natt be all right?” she asked, toward Efterar’s scarred back. “He really was quite grievously wounded.”
The look Efterar shot her over his shoulder was wry, and far more mild than the look he’d just given Natt. “Yes, he’ll be fine,” he said, as he moved his hand to Natt’s shoulder, and gently rested it over the wound. “You, on the other hand…”
He dropped his hand from Natt’s shoulder, fully turning toward Ella, and behind him Natt gave an experimental roll of the shoulder, his expression undeniably pleased. No doubt because — Ella’s mouth fell open, shocked, again — there was no sign of where Natt’s wound had been, not even a scar, or a scratch. More impossible magic, from these impossible orcs.
“Ach, I ought to have taken more care with her,” Natt said now, leaping down from the table with ease, and coming to frown down toward Ella. “She is a hearty lass, but shall you look, brother? Please?”
Ella twitched, both at the odd referral to herself ashearty, and then, at the surprising politeness, because surely she’d never heard Natt saypleasebefore? But the Efterar orc was already nodding, stepping closer, and looking — downthere. Almost as if he couldseeElla’s most secret places, through the leather of her skirt, and she fought the urge to cover herself, to hide away. Surely, if Efterar was some kind of physician, he’d have seen such things before, wouldn’t he?
“She’ll heal, Grisk,” he said finally, “but I can help it along, if you like.”
Natt immediately nodded, and patted the counter where he’d just been sitting. “Come, lass,” he said. “And no touching, brother.”
That last bit was said quite sharply, and Efterar sighed, and rolled his eyes. “You Grisk and your delicate noses,” he said. “Over your hand, then?”
Natt gave another curt nod, and thus began another surreal, thoroughly humiliating incident, in which after a moment’s explanation, Natt thrust up Ella’s skirt, spread her legs wide apart, and once again pressed his hand flat against the dripping, messy core of her. While this Efterar then rested his own hand over Natt’s, ostensibly using his astonishing magic to heal her, even through Natt’s warm, cupping fingers.
“That should do it,” Efterar said, once he’d pulled away, and Natt pulled away too. And then — Ella’s shock felt closer to an amused resignation, this time — Natt began licking his fingers clean, slowly and thoroughly, as though Efterar weren’t even there.
But Efterar didn’t seem to notice, either, his eyes firmly on Ella’s groin again, even after she belatedly yanked down her too-short skirt. “Is that better, Grisk?” he asked her. “Do you feel any pain?”
Grisk. There was another moment’s shock, more deafening this time, because this orc thought — he thought Ella wasGrisk. He thought she and Natt weremated.
