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Jasmine
We leave with Edwin and are accompanied by an escort back to his residence.
It has been a long day. One that will leave a legacy upon my heart. Doug insists that he carries me. He gets a familiar mutinous set to his jaw when I tell him I have two capable legs. So I relent, and as my hands rest gently against his chest, I’m again sorrowful for the terrible bruising I see around his throat.
With the arrival of the rain, the stifling heat is gone, and the temperature plummets. Swathed in a thick cloak that the warlord ordered one of his servants to fetch for me, and tucked in Doug’s arms, I am cocooned from the world and protected from the heavy rain that pounds the streets of Krug.
Although my body is well cared for, my heart is sore and aching. My mind is a jumble of thoughts and impressions. I don’t think I shall ever forget the moment he dropped, nor the desperate hope that rose in me when the warlord stormed the gallows with his many orc guards. As someone had cut Doug down, I prayed to the Goddess that he was not yet gone.
My breath hitches at the memory. Doug rumbles a distressed sound, and I force my thoughts to still.
It will take time. I understand this. But, for now, all I need is the feel of his warm, sturdy body beneath my cheek as he carries me effortlessly through the streets.
When we arrive at Edwin’s home, many bondservants and orc guards are gathered, eager for news.
I’m lowered to my feet as a concerned Bard greets me, relief evident on his face. And there is Pippa and the head cook, and Bron, who protected me when Doug could not.
We are not allowed long before Edwin dismisses everyone. “There will be no more duties today,” he says. “Eat and take rest. At the end of the week, we shall be leaving, and new orders will be given.”
As the door shuts on our little rickety quarters, a tiny space that barely holds a mattress, I recognize that I am numb with delayed shock as I stand, unable to do anything for myself. Doug sits on the side of the bed, draws me close, and strips me of my rough, homespun dress. After ushering me under the blankets, he strips himself.
He does so without me asking, and the realization finds a chink in the numb, so that a little warm place begins to bloom. He settles with me on the bed, gathering me close in his arms as he lies on his back.
“Will it hurt you if I lie beside you like this?”
He shakes his head stiffly, his throat working as he swallows. The sight of the bruising makes my stomach churn. Although the physician did not examine him long, he assured the warlord that the short time Doug was hanging would leave no lasting effect.
I press my cheek against his chest and hold him as tightly as I can.
Outside, the rain batters the shutters and door, a steady thrum that gives an indication that the season is changing. Not only the season but our lives.
A promise of freedom offers me time with Doug where we might learn about one another in all the ways I have hoped.
My mind quiets, and my ears are filled with the strong beat of his heart.
Here in this orc city, so far from my former home, I find unexpected peace with my brave white orc.
ChapterTwo
Jasmine
The early change of the season brings the building work to a close. There is no more brick moving for Doug. Instead, all haste is made to complete the preparations to leave, before the rain shifts to snow.
Melody is excited and dances around her room as Bard and I pack up her small number of possessions. The light stockings and summer dresses are discarded. In their place is more practical clothing to protect her from the weather as we travel. Serviceable brown pants, a linen shirt and a tunic, along with a new fur-trimmed blue cloak. The rather drab clothing emphasizes the brightness of her red-gold hair.
“I am an intrepid explorer,” she announces while modeling her new cloak.
I share a smile with Bard.
“The child is indomitable,” he says, throwing a look heavenward. “After yesterday, her mischief and merriment are just what we all need.”
“What happened yesterday?” Melody asks. “Where did you all go? I was bored. Pippa’s hair is short and does not make good plaits.” She commandeers Bard’s walking stick from the nook beside the door and proceeds to vanquish an imaginary foe with it. It is far too large for her small arms. I wince as she narrowly misses a lamp.
“We had a meeting with the warlord,” Bard says, diplomatically, while nimbly extricating the long cane from Melody before anything can break. “He explained about us leaving for this trip with General Tulwin.”
“General Tulwin is not a pretty green color like Edwin. Can’t we stay here?”
I choke down a laugh.
