Page 6 of Wed to the Orc Captive

The Overseer’s face was practiced in its sorrow. “My good woman, it is a thing none of us want. But what shall we sacrifice? What if one life can save your other daughters, your husbands, your sons?”

In the crowd, someone sobbed. Pete Weaver’s widow.

“Now, we had intended,” irritation crossed his face, “To bring at least two of them, but they’re beasts of such intense strength that only one was subdued. The council and I have discussed deep into the night, and we have chosen from among our number a suitable bride.”

I stepped into the center row. Had I ever been bold before? Maybe self-destruction did this. “You don’t need to pick someone,” I called out, my voice, still hoarse from disuse, still managing to carry. Now every eye was on me. “I volunteer.”

A WEDDING NIGHT

In the chaos after my pronouncement, there were faces that stood out in the crowd: Todderick’s, furious, Bogdana’s, severe.

“I’m the perfect choice,” I said. “I have nothing, and no one will miss me.” I found Odelle’s eyes in the crowd, sorrow. Regret.

The Overseer clapped for silence. “Order!” he shouted. “Miss…Miss Annora…” he was struggling, looking for some reason to remain in control. “In light of you having just lost your dear father, I want to assure you that you have a place in our community⁠—"

“I did,” I said, clear as a bell. “So please. Let me save it.”

Todderick glowered from his pew. His hate almost took the sting out of the knowledge that I was right, out of having no one argue for my sake. I could let his hatred fuel me into the next life.

The overseer withdrew to confer with the council, and I stayed standing there, weaving a little on my feet. I couldn’t faint now. I had to look strong a little longer. Overseer Marsen returned. “Miss Annora,” he said. “The council has accepted your sacrifice. You’ll be wed to the orc at evening bells, and we will send you on your way with a small dowry.”

A dowry. A dowry for an orc. I nodded, once. “Thank you for your generosity.” More than I’d spoken in public in two years.

The meeting was dismissed. I floated from the chapel. I think I responded to the people who spoke to me, maybe not. Their faces were what I’d remember, guilt, discomfort, the kind of faces that give you platitudes and ask for pity.

Strong hands gripped mine.

“With me,” Bogdana ordered, fierce. I followed after her crown of white hair through the throng, down the rutted streets.

When the door to her cottage banged shut behind us, she wheeled on me. “What in seven hells are you doing, young woman? An orc?”

My eyes stung. She had changed so little, in the last few years. Maybe the wrinkles were deeper. Maybe I was taller. “I…Todderick,” I croaked. “I’m getting away from Todderick.”

“Chadwick’s son?” She shook her head. “And you didn’t think to come to me?”

“You already have an apprentice. You couldn’t⁠—"

“Do not tell me what I can’t do when you give me no chance to tell you what I can! You’ll throw your future away over one boy who’s an ass?”

My throat was tight. “Odelle. He told me…they were going to make Odelle do it.”

My old mentor cursed.

For a moment it felt like before, the same warm safety, the same being not alone.

“Sit down. You’re going to eat, and you’re going to take what I give you.”

I sat. The room was warm. Pottage simmered over a low-banked fire, and she ladled it out.

“I have an aunt in Mereborough. You go to her, and she’ll put you to work. If she can’t take you, she’ll find a place. Do you hear me?” She reached high into the rafters, into the baskets and drying bundles and hanging knives. “You give her this and tell her I vouch for you.” She pushed a small, braided charm into my hand, a flower-shaped knot like one would wear on a belt or a waist chain as a memento of a sweetheart. I’d never dream of a sweetheart ever again.

“I can’t leave now. They’ll bring me back. Or they’ll send Odelle⁠—"

“I’m not telling you to run. You’ve made your bed, you’ll lie in it. They want you to control a monster? Alright.” She was sorting through bottles and jars, setting things out on the table. “You’ve never been the coward type, and I’m not asking you to start now. You’ll marry the orc, and you’ll be pushed out of this town. You’ll travel far enough that no one knows you. I’m not telling you to sacrifice another girl. ” She pulled down a small cloth bag, and set it in front of me. “I’m telling you that after you’re widowed, you’ll go to Mereborough.”

“But why would I be widowed?”

She stared, her eyes like flint.