Page 5

FIVE

Amuleta bent down and pushed the fabric into the water.

It was laundry day, and she had promised her mother that she would take their clothes to the river so she could wash them.

The twin suns were high, and she had to admit the coolness of the river felt good around her calf muscles.

It was warm, and doing laundry was not an easy task.

Amuleta raised the shirt and narrowed her gaze on the front of it where she remembered dripping some kind of sauce on it.

She grimaced seeing a hint of the stain still in the light material.

It called for more scrubbing.

She was determined to get the stain out.

This was one of her favorite shirts, but this wasn’t going to get her down.

She had woken up refreshed and in a good mood.

Her plan was to get these clothes washed and set them out in the sun.

It wouldn’t take them long to dry.

With this heat, they would be ready in an hour or two, which would be plenty of time for her to go off and forage a bit.

There were a few things she had seen on her way here that had caught her eye.

She was about a mile from home and had brought her tools.

Gelisha had locked herself in her sewing room, busy at work.

Amuleta felt the warmth return in her chest at the thought of how happy Gelisha had been after their trip to town.

It was like a breath of fresh air to see her mother—the one she had grown up with—not the broken, lost woman she was some days.

A song came to mind that Amuleta had learned when she was a child.

Gelisha had taught it to her.

It was in the ancient language of her mother’s grandmother people, the Fae.

Amuleta began to sing as she made her way back to the bank of the river.

She had folded her pant legs until they rested above her knees.

She hadn’t needed to go far into the river in order to work on their clothing.

Her feet met the soft warm earth as she moved to the area where she had laid out a few other items.

The song was about finding their one true love.

It was a fairy tale that all little children were taught.

Her grandmother had taught her mother, and Gelisha had ensured Amuleta knew the song.

She spun around and danced back to the water’s edge and bent down to snag a skirt that needed cleaning.

She only had a few more items left to attend to.

She went back into the water, her voice carrying through the air.

She needn’t worry about anyone hearing her.

She and her mother didn’t have neighbors for miles.

She went through the motions of cleaning the clothing.

The act of doing this chore didn’t bother her.

It gave her time to think and dream.

She twisted the skirt she was working on to get the excess water out of it.

A smile appeared on her lips.

“Almost done,” she murmured.

She stood to her full height and stretched to give a little relief to her back.

She inhaled deeply and froze in place.

The hairs on the back of her arms stood to attention.

There was the sense that she wasn’t alone.

Her gaze scanned the area across the river, but she didn’t see anything.

She half expected a wild animal to be venturing toward the water to get a drink.

Her blade she kept for protection was currently on the bank behind her.

Slowly, she turned and tried to act natural.

Her gaze roamed the area near her, but she still didn’t see anything.

Was she going crazy?

Maybe she was. There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.

She made her way back to where she had her other clothes resting on the bushes.

It wasn’t the best place to hang clothes, but it always worked out.

She placed the skirt down on a wide alkony bush and spun around.

“Time to forage,” she murmured.

The sensation was still there.

Amuleta went over to her shoes and bent down and put them on.

A slight rustling in the trees led her gaze to a pair of amber eyes staring at her.

Her breath escaped her as she quickly reached for her blade sitting on top of her bag.

“What do you want?”

Her heart was beating a mile a minute.

She stood to her full height again, holding her blade as her father had once taught her.

He had always ensured she and her mother knew basic self-defense.

“I come in peace. I promise,” a husky voice announced from the tree line.

A tall, muscular figure stepped from shadows of the trees and branches.

Amuleta’s eyes widened at the person who had been watching her.

It was the chieftain’s daughter, the commander, Magoza Cydassi.

What was she doing this far out into the woods?

Amuleta automatically reached up and brushed her hair from her face.

With the heat and washing clothes, she was sure she looked a mess.

She swallowed hard and wondered what the commander would think of her appearance.

She blinked.

Why would that matter?

Amuleta took her time in assessing the female orc in front of her.

Magoza’s dark hair was held back away from her face in intricate braids, her amber eyes wide and unblinking as she took in Amuleta.

Her tunic revealed her strong muscular arms and physique, and her form-fitting trousers showcased her powerful thighs.

There were twin axes resting at her waist. She was a purebred orc, with the tusks and the size to prove it.

Amuleta wasn’t sure why, but her body was reacting to the feel of the orc’s gaze on her.

Was that heat in her gaze?

Her attention landed on Amuleta’s chest for a moment, trailing down to her feet.

Amuleta’s breaths came faster.

Did she find her appealing?

Magoza was a legend amongst their people.

This woman was a great warrior, respected by all, and was expected to be the next leader of their people once her father no longer held the position.

She wouldn’t be interested in a half-breed like herself.

Amuleta wasn’t to snarl at the term.

She was proud of her heritage.

The orc side of her represented her beloved father and the human side was from her mother.

She would never be ashamed of who she was.

Others may have issues with it, but that was their problem.

She had learned to be proud of who she was.

Her father wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“You can lower your weapon. I do not mean any harm,” Magoza said.

She took another step forward, her eyes locked on Amuleta.

“I’m sorry. One can never be too careful,” Amuleta finally found her voice.

She reached down and picked up her bag.

She slid the knife into the outer pocket that would allow her to easily grab it if she needed it.

She glanced around and realized she should go.

Maybe the commander wanted to use this part of the river.

“I was just leaving?—”

“Please don’t,” Magoza said, her voice softened.

Amuleta’s eyebrows rose sharply at the request. Did the commander need something?

Was she lost? If so, Amuleta didn’t have a problem helping her find her way.

She knew this part of the forest like the back of her hand.

There was a patch of crotori berries not far from here.

She wanted to check in on them to see if they were ready for harvesting.

“You were the female who was watching the training the other day.”

Amuleta stiffened.

The commander had spoken with the three warriors.

She had been too embarrassed by how they had been speaking about her.

It wasn’t anything she hadn’t heard before in passing.

Plenty of orcs could be lewd and disrespectful when it came to her looks.

She’d been propositioned plenty of times by orcs and others who wanted to test out a half-breed.

“Yes, that was me.” She lowered her head and gave a nod.

Of course the commander would remember her from the warriors laughing and making crude comments about her.

She had jumped up from where she had been perched and left.

She didn’t want to hear any more of what they had to say.

Just because she was used to people making comments about her and her heritage didn’t mean she had to stick around and listen.

“I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Magoza Cy?—”

“I know who you are,” Amuleta interjected.

She flicked her gaze back to Magoza.

Did she truly think Amuleta didn’t know who she was?

“Oh, my apologies.” A smirk appeared on her lips.

She eyed Amuleta curiously.

She took another step toward her.

Amuleta gripped her bag and watched her move forward.

She had the sudden urge to run away, but then yet something in the back of her mind was telling her to stay.

“Well, seeing as how you know who I am, who do I have the pleasure of meeting?”

Amuleta remained silent for now.

She had been so used to staying to herself.

Even in town, she doubted most of the townsfolk knew her name.

Half-breed was always thrown out when someone tried to get her attention.

After a while it became pointless to correct them.

Even when she did tell them her name, it never did any good.

“Amuleta. My name is Amuleta,” she replied softly.

She held on to her bag tightly as she took a step back.

She glanced over at the clothing drying on the trees and bushes.

She motioned to the water.

“If you were wanting some privacy here, I’m about to leave. I’ll come back for my things once they are dry.”

“I hope I’m not scaring you off.” Magoza took another step forward.

Her amber eyes watched Amuleta.

There was something in them that Amuleta couldn’t read.

“I’m sure you heard what those warriors were saying about you,” Magoza said.

Amuleta stiffened and made to turn, but Magoza held up her hand.

“I just wanted you know that those warriors were punished for how they spoke about you.”

“But why?” Amuleta sputtered.

Her hand flew to her mouth at the thought that someone would actually punish them for their crude remarks and talking about her.

She had never had anyone stand up for her before—at least since her father had passed.

“Because their language and conversation was unfitting for warriors who should have been training.” Magoza closed the gap between them.

Amuleta was frozen in place.

She tilted her head back and stared up at the beautiful orc.

“And they should never have said such cruel things in front of a beautiful lady.”

Amuleta’s eyes widened.

She must be dreaming.

Maybe she had finished washing their clothes and had settled down on the thick grass near the tree line and fallen asleep.

That was it.

She was asleep.

She slid her hand down her arm and pinched her skin.

She held back a wince.

Nope. She was wide awake, and Magoza was still standing in front of her.

“Do you often come and watch the warriors train?” Magoza asked gently.

Amuleta nodded, unable to form a single word.

Magoza, the daughter of the chieftain, a fierce warrior, had just called her beautiful and a lady.

“And why is that?”

“Um, I have always found it fascinating. Even as a child I would come and watch—” Amuleta stopped.

She didn’t want to reveal that she would watch her father train and work with the other warriors.

Her mother never wanted him to be dishonored by the clan for having a human mate and a half-breed child.

That had happened once already, and they hadn’t wanted to risk it again.

Magoza’s eyes narrowed on her.

She probably sensed that Amuleta was hiding something.

“Had dreams of becoming a warrior?” Magoza’s lips curled up in the corner.

There was now a twinkle in her eye as she teased Amuleta.

“Oh, Goddess, no.” Amuleta found herself giggling.

She reached up and tucked a stray hair behind her ear.

Her father had given her lessons, and it would seem she was not cut out to be a warrior.

Now defend herself to where she would have a chance to run away, she was able to do that.

“It was just interesting to watch warriors train and to see the dedication each one of them exhibits. I have much respect for what you do.”

A silence fell between them while they studied each other.

Amuleta wasn’t sure what to say or do.

She had her foraging she needed to do.

Herbs and berries wouldn’t magically appear in her bag.

“Why have I never seen you around the village? Do you live far from here?” Magoza asked.

Amuleta bit her lip and pondered the questions.

They appeared to be innocent enough.

She gave a shrug.

“I go into town at least once a week for market day, and as to where I live, well, not far from here.” She took a step back from Magoza.

This close to her allowed her to see the flecks of gold that were in her amber irises.

Or the small scar that ran along the underside of her jawline.

Her tusks were pearly white as if she took great care of them.

Her hair was silky black, and the braids were immaculately done.

Amuleta clenched her hands into fists.

She had to resist the urge to reach out and run her hand over Magoza’s exposed arms. She wanted to feel her muscular arms and test out their strength.

She inhaled sharply and backed away some more.

She doubted the warrior would appreciate her touching her.

She may have called her beautiful, but she probably said that to all women.

“But I do have to go.”

“Is your mate waiting for you?”

“What?” Amuleta gasped.

She clutched the strap of her bag in her hand.

Her face grew warm as embarrassment filled her.

She couldn’t believe Magoza would ask her that question.

As much as she wished she had someone, she did not.

Amuleta had heard stories of Magoza.

Many of the gossipers in town didn’t pay her any mind when sharing their stories.

Her ears always burned when they spoke of Magoza and her many lovers.

“I don’t…I don’t have a mate.”

Something flared in Magoza’s eyes.

Amuleta wasn’t sure what it was, but it created a stirring in her belly.

She tried to offer the warrior a smile as she was finally able to get her feet to move.

Once again, she reminded herself that those wild berries and herbs would not forage themselves.

“I’m sorry. I have to go.”

“Mind if I tag along with you? I hear that there are some crotori berries nearby, and I’ve been craving some.”

Amuleta spun around and stared at Magoza.

How did she know what she was off to do?

Did she tell the chieftain’s daughter no?

She wasn’t sure why she would want to tag along with her, but for some strange reason, Amuleta found herself nodding. “Of course.”