She truly did mean that, and felt a reflexive ripple of delight at the twinge of approval on John’s mouth. “There are foolish Ka-esh also, foolish woman,” he said. “But along with all this blame I bear, I at least now wield the power among my clan brothers to foist the fools away.”
“Small mercies,” Rosa replied, with a genuine grin. “What do you do, pack them off mining? Set them to digging tunnels for a few weeks, or months?”
The look on John’s face suggested that he did exactly that, and Rosa couldn’t help a peal of laughter, another bump at him with her shoulder. “Devious orc,” she said. “So whyaren’tyou Priest of Orc Mountain, anyway?”
Her voice was light, but the meaning behind it wasn’t — and she could almost feel the heaviness settling again, weighing on John’s shoulders. “The Priest wields much power,” he said slowly. “He walks before the captain in the darkness, and guides our kind into the unknown. He commands funds, and labour, and resources. And thus, all five clans must agree upon this choice. I have not” — he grimaced — “gained this blessing, from the Skai. And thus, from the others also.”
Oh. Ohhhhh. That explained alot, actually, including John’s clear animosity against the Skai, and the way it seemed almost personal for him. A twinge of irrationality, even, a crack in all his outward composure, and Rosa was still considering that as he led her back into the library. Which, thankfully, was now only occupied by Tristan, who was bent over the table, writing on a sheet of paper in clean, elegant-looking common-tongue.
“There is more I must do away from here today,” John said, as he turned toward Rosa, and rested both hands heavy on her shoulders. “Shall you stay calmly here without me, or shall I return to find you caught in another ill-founded frenzy?”
Rosa tried to glare at him, but couldn’t quite pull it off. “It wasnotill-founded,” she countered. “It was entirely logical and empirically sound, based on the information I possessed at the time.”
John’s eyebrows went up, but so did the corner of his mouth, twitching with unmistakable amusement. “Foolish pet,” he said. “I shall return.”
With that, he leaned forward, the scent of him flaring deep into Rosa’s lungs, and then, oh gods, he —kissedher. Kissed her full on the lips, for only the second time in theirentire acquaintance, and even as Rosa was simultaneously calculating and lamenting that truth, she felt herself immediately sinking into it, drowning in the wonder of it. An orc’s soft, heated, delicious-tasting mouth, all clever lips and long tongue and sharp teeth, kissing with careful, calculated thoroughness, just as he did everything else. And the hunger was already surging again, Rosa’s mouth eager and moaning, maybe he would put her on the table again, kneel again, and then —
He drew away far too soon, leaving Rosa open-mouthed and gasping, her lips feeling swollen and reddened, her face very hot. While John, the ragingreprobate, only looked coolly, smugly satisfied, and lightly patted her cheek before turning and striding out the door again.
“Devious bastard,” Rosa muttered, once she’d found the breath to speak again. “Has he always been so —”
She snapped her mouth shut, glancing guiltily toward Tristan — but Tristan was smiling back, warm and surprisingly stunning, his ear-tips again turned a faint shade of pink. “Ach, John-Ka has always been thus,” he said. “I find it is easier to yield from the start.”
Rosa looked at him for an instant, while her brain resumed its wild frantic shouting, spewing out what could only be more abominably unnerving jealousy. “Um,” she said, while her eyes desperately searched the room, and settled on Tristan’s sheet of paper. “Right. Um, what are you working on?”
Tristan’s long-lashed eyes blinked, once, but he accordingly looked down at his paper, and smoothed out the edge with his hand. “I write letters to the humans, on our captain’s behalf,” he said. “With these, we seek to express our regrets at what our errant brother has done, and reassure them that he has been confined to our mountain, and forced to hard labour.”
Hard labour? Despite everything, Rosa felt her mouth curve up, her eyes glancing at Tristan’s neat letter-charts on the table. “Learning to read is hard labour?”
“Ach, for an orc like Simon, it is,” Tristan replied, with a half-smile of his own. “Most Skai are taught only to fight from birth, at the cost of all else. This has been to our gain, but mayhap not” — his smile twisted — “to theirs.”
Oh. That was another intriguing piece to the puzzle — a hint, perhaps, that Tristan might not share John’s views on the Skai — and Rosa mentally filed it away with all the rest. “And do you think these letters will actually help?” she asked next, as casually as she could. “Will they stave off more war?”
She was thinking again of her three-week deadline, of Lord Kaspar. Of the fact that she was supposed to behelpingwith this damned war. Learning all she could, searching for more atrocities, saving her future…
Rosa rubbed hard at her prickling cheeks, but thankfully Tristan didn’t seem to notice, his eyes still fixed to his letter. “Letters have helped us, in the past,” he said. “Many humans do not think orcs capable of reason, so our letters stand against this. With these, we also ask to meet, and oft make offers, and send gifts. Aught we can do” — he again smoothed at the letter’s edge — “to remind the humans that we are not monsters. That we cannotbearmore war, and more death.”
Oh. There was a sudden, glinting vehemence in his eyes, draining the warmth from Rosa’s face. And any kind of appropriate response seemed stuck in her throat, of course you aren’t monsters, of course we don’t want more war…
“Rosa!” interrupted a voice, and Rosa spun gratefully toward it. It was Jule, tall and pregnant and smiling, striding into the room, and giving Tristan a companionable clap on the shoulder before dropping herself into the chair beside him. “It’s so good to see you still up and about. Tell me, how are you faring? Has John been behaving himself?”
Rosa’s tongue still felt thoroughly tangled, but she somehow managed an answer that didn’t give too much away — did she want to divulge that John had tied her to a bed, or worse, that she’denjoyedit? — and then directed the conversation to the fascinating things John had shown her around the mountain so far, and her current studies of Aelakesh.
Jule seemed intrigued by that — her own Aelakesh was extremely rudimentary, she confessed, gleaned mostly from listening to Grimarr and the other orcs speak. A fact that was truly lamentable, Rosa rather felt, and she eagerly launched into a detailed explanation of Aelakesh’s many virtues. Earning a warm, approving smile from Tristan, who quietly offered his help however it was needed — and soon they’d passed a highly enjoyable hour practicing phrases and pronunciations together, and laughing at their many mistakes.
“One other thing, Rosa,” Jule said, once she’d reluctantly stood to leave again. “If you don’t mind me asking — what’s the situation with you and Lord Kaspar Sippola? I heard” — her dark head tilted — “you work for him?”
Her voice was careful, with a slight inflection on the wordwork, and Rosa’s heart abruptly began thudding, her eyes dropping to the table. Good gods, Jule probablyknewLord Kaspar, from her previous life as Lady Norr, and she could not guess, she could not know, John could never,everfind out…
“I don’t actually workforLord Kaspar,” Rosa blurted out, without thinking. “He’s the patron of the library where I work. And he’s” — she squared her shoulders — “a real asshole, actually. Thinks he’s a brilliant gentleman scholar, when he’s really just marginally clever, with enough power to wring the real work out of everyone else around him, and then take the credit for it. While he fucks his way through their wives andchambermaids.”
Her voice had turned chilly, strangely bitter, and she was distantly surprised to see Jule give a terse, knowing nod, her arms crossing firmly over her chest.
“Kaspar forced himself on one of my youngest serving-maids,” she said, voice flat. “When he came to Norr Manor with his father on a diplomatic visit, a few years back. And when she became pregnant, Kaspar refused to help her, or acknowledge the child as his. I’m glad you’re away from him, Rosa. Quite frankly” — she grimaced — “poor Louisa deserves better, too. She’s already had to toleratewaytoo much bullshit from scum like him.”
Louisa.Lady Scall, she meant. And as Rosa was still digesting that, Jule turned and strode off, leaving only a sickening, uncomfortable churning in Rosa’s belly. It truly hadn’t occurred to her that Lord Kaspar might be hurting Lady Scall, too — and while Rosa hadn’t before heard that particular tale of the serving-maid, it sounded very like many of the other whispers and warnings she’d heard about Lord Kaspar over the years.
And suddenly Rosa couldn’t bear to think of it, ofhim, and she lurched up out of her chair, and toward the nearest shelf. The shelf, it turned out, with all those books written in Osadan, and Rosa gently, gratefully traced her fingers along their bindings. Dragging in the faint, familiar scent of paper and dust, while willing her jumpy heartbeat to slow. Lord Kaspar wasn’t here. She still had nineteen days…
