Beside Ella Natt felt very rigid, but his head was raised, his eyes flinty on Efterar’s. “Ach, I did,” he said. “I covered her with my scent and my jewels, and gave her the farewell she was due. I took great joy in this.”
Efterar gave a heavy, irritable sigh, and behind him Kesst sidled up, and brazenly snaked his long fingers around to Efterar’s front, grasping at his already-swelling groin. “Deep breaths, Eft,” he purred, though his eyes on Ella were just as disapproving. “Perhaps you’d like to be cleaned up a bit for your man, sweetheart? Keep him from losing his shit — and deciding to start a war after all — when he takes you to bed tonight?”
But even the thought was making Ella feel suddenly, powerfully ill, and she gave a hard shake of her head. “No, thank you,” she said firmly. “I’m fine, just as I am. Alfred will not be taking me to bed, ever. And I would appreciate” — her eyes darted around at the milling-about orcs — “if you are quite clear, when you so publicly speak, of my full intention to remain faithful to Natt.”
There was unmistakable surprise, flaring across both Kesst and Efterar’s eyes, but Ella didn’t elaborate, and thankfully they didn’t push further. And when Baldr came up, speaking a sincere-sounding farewell, with Drafli standing close behind him, it was easier to smile at him, and to thank him, for all his help and kindness.
After him the orcs kept coming, first the group of Grisk — Ella, fortunately, remembered all their names, and was gratified to note that none of them seemed to know her real reason for leaving — and next was John, giving her a curt, watchful nod that suggested he knew rather more than the others.
“This will, your father made,” he said to her, out of nowhere. “How was it filed? Privately, or publicly, with the Sakkin magistrate?”
Ella blinked at him, but obediently cast her memories backwards. “Publicly, with the magistrate,” she said. “There’s a copy at the library in Dusbury. He sought to protect me with it, and he was quite proud of how he’d managed it, so he wanted to make it as official as possible.”
John gave a thoughtful little nod, but backed away, leaving Ella to consider that, her thoughts suddenly, incongruously, filling with images of her father. Her father, who’d cursed her with this horrible marriage deadline. But who’d also sought to protect her, in any way he could. Who’d worked so hard to keep her home, and safe.
The warmth of that truth was almost overpowering, and Ella put a hand to her chest, feeling the gold chains hidden beneath her layers of clothing. Her father had been misguided, selfish, perhaps even cruel, Ella knew that now — he had still known her, and loved her. She had been given so many gifts. She was grateful.
“Are you ready to go?” a voice asked, and when Ella blinked up, it was Jule. Smiling, but still with that tiredness in her eyes. “We’ll be with you.”
But Ella hesitated, and her gaze slid past Jule, toward the huge orc standing behind her. Grimarr, with his scarred face and wary watching eyes. The orc who’d given Natt this hard choice. The orc who’d let Natt be hunted, for all these years. Natt’s enemy, who he hadn’t been able to defeat. Not yet.
“Thank you,” Ella said, with an attempt at a smile toward Jule. “But I have one last request.”
The room was growing quiet all around, the assembled orcs’ attention slowly settling upon them, and Ella lifted her chin, found Grimarr’s eyes, and spoke truth.
“Before I go,” she said, “I want to see my — Nattfarr, of Clan Grisk, made full Speaker. Not only of the Grisk, but of all five clans.Now.”
34
Ella knew her words were a challenge. A public, provocative proclamation of her power here, her purpose, her loyalty. Natt would be Speaker, or she would not go.
The threat didn’t need to be said, especially before all these uninformed orcs, but Ella almost enjoyed watching the discomfort in Grimarr’s eyes, his brief, darting glance around the room. At his mate, his two hands, his loyal brothers, the Grisk. At Ella.
“Natt deserves to be made Speaker,” Ella said, into the too-tense silence. “He has proven his fealty beyond doubt. He has proven that he can make hard choices, on his brothers’ behalf. He has proven that he can host a Revel, and only speak of brotherhood, and call for truth. He has proven that he is a match for the men. He is a match foryou.”
She held Grimarr’s gaze with all the force she could muster, glaring deep and strong and true. And the look in those eyes upon hers might have been angry, or perhaps appreciative, or perhaps — Ella blinked — even — approving?
And when Grimarr’s mouth finally, slowly twitched up, Ella almost thought she might faint, right here in this room full of orcs. “You have proven yourself a fierce and loyal mate, Ella of Clan Grisk,” he said slowly, with a careful incline of his shaggy head. “And for this, most of all, I shall grant your request to your orc. Come, brother, and have your due.”
Ella was still holding Natt’s hand, and her sudden, relieved grin back toward him found him looking utterly, entirely shocked. His mouth hanging open, his eyes gaping between Ella and Grimarr, his huge body almost radiating his astonishment and disbelief. But Ella tugged at him, and abruptly he came, his steps uncharacteristically jerky, his fingers suddenly almost trembling in hers.
But then, Natt was there. Here. Standing tall before his Captain, looking straight into his craggy face, while Grimarr brought a heavy hand to each of Natt’s shoulders, and looked him in the eyes.
“Nattfarr, of Clan Grisk,” he said, his deep voice rumbling through the room. “I grant you today the place of Speaker of the Grisk, and of all five clans. I call you to Speak for your brothers, and thus earn their truth, and their fealty. I call you to set aside your own wants, your own vengeance, and serve us all with kindness, fairness, and justice. And, I also call your guard” — Grimarr’s eyes flicked up toward them — “Varinn, Thrak, Thrain, and Dammarr, to uphold you as you serve.”
The words seemed to unfurl throughout the room, settling on Natt’s shoulders with the strength of Grimarr’s hands, the deep power of his voice. And Ella could almost taste the truth filling Natt, settling him, brightening him with its light.
“I answer your call, Grimarr the Fierce-Heart, of Clan Ash-Kai, Captain of Five Clans,” Natt said, his gaze steady, alive, speaking its own truth. “I shall be the twelfth orc of my line to Speak for my brothers. Should you not grant me your truth, I shall draw it from you, and speak it for all to hear. I shall set aside my own wants, my own vengeance, and serve all my kin with kindness, fairness, and justice.”
There was a wry smile on Grimarr’s mouth, a slight nod from his head — and Natt nodded too. And then, to Ella’s distant surprise, Natt gently dropped her hand, and then reached up both his arms, to rest on Grimarr’s huge shoulders.
“And I thank you, my brother,” Natt said, “for saving my life, when your own father sought my death. I thank you for the shelter you have given me. I thank you for the wisdom and bravery you have shown in Speaking with me as you have, and seeking most of all for the safety of all Grisk, and the future of our clan. I do not agree with all your ways, and I shall always be a thorn to you — but I am honoured to call you our Captain.”
There was a hurtling silence, a look in Grimarr’s eyes that surely hinted at astonishment — but then, in a swift, lurching movement, the two orcs were locked together, their arms tight around one another, Grimarr’s messy head buried deep into Natt’s neck.
Suddenly there were stomps and shouts all around, hoots and clamours and claps, and Jule was rubbing at her eyes, and sidling up to Grimarr, and tucking herself into his side. And he immediately maneuvered the hug to include her, dragging her close, while Ella watched from a distance, and wiped at her own liberally leaking eyes.
Natt was Speaker. Finally. They’d done it, and she’d seen it, and it was right.Nattwas right again, finally, after so long.
