Page 24 of Orc’s Hex

“Captain.”

Rhun blinks. Looks at him. Looks at the hall.

“Sir.” Rough voice. “I⁠—“

“Don’t.” Low. “Brynna. Now.”

Someone moves for the healer—Brynna, the hold’s healer, a broad-shouldered orc woman whose unhurried efficiency cuts through crisis faster than anyone else in the room. Drazhul stays on his knee until people come to take Rhun. He keeps one hand on Rhun’s shoulder while that happens. The assembly has eyes.

He stands.

Brakka hasn’t sat back down. He’s standing at his bench with both fists pressed to the wood in front of him and the expression of a man whose argument just got answered in a language he didn’t want used. Ash is standing too. The two officers who drew weapons have sheathed them.

Varek is looking at him the way he looks when he’s updated his position.

“The witch stays.”

No summary. No explanation of what they just watched. The hall has eyes. The people in it can see the same cracks spreading from the far wall toward the dais—wider now than this morning, the deepest one dark enough to see nothing below.

He looks at Ziva.

Her eyes hold his—one beat, two—and then she tips her chin toward the Blood Archive corridor.

Work to do.

He nods.

Garrok Stonefist intercepts him before he can follow her out.

“Most efficient demonstration of a point I’ve seen since Brakka’s first assembly.” At a volume the nearest three people definitely hear. “Brakka’s going to be impossible for a week.”

“Brakka’s always impossible.”

“You usually let him work up to it slower.” Garrok glances toward the hall entrance, where Ziva has already disappeared. “She good?”

“She found the maintenance evidence in the Foundation Crypt before she’d been here three days.”

Garrok takes that in without performing a reaction to it.

“Rhun’s going to be rough when he comes back to himself.”

“I know.”

“He’ll blame himself.”

“He shouldn’t.”

“Doesn’t matter what he should do.” Garrok’s jaw works a moment. “The good ones always go first with this thing. You know that.”

“I know.”

“Then you know we don’t have a lot of time before⁠—“

“I know, Garrok.”

One nod. Then he claps a hand on Drazhul’s shoulder—the only person in this hold who does that without calculation—and goes.

Varek appears at his left.