Page 11 of The Orc Chief’s Baker (Orc Mates Of Faeda #4)

Chapter

Seven

TRINIA

T rinia was out of breath, half panicked, and completely illogical by the time she’d made it to the group waiting to walk over to the trade.

She had to find someone to help her. She just had too.

The open area in front of the village gates was large enough to fit every craftsman in the village and their wares comfortably.

On a typical day, it would be nearly filled with fifty or more families bustling around.

Children would be dashing through the yard and causing mayhem.

Elderly folk usually sat beneath the only tree, which was barren of leaves now.

The chatter would be loud and the laughter even louder.

But not today. Today Trinia walked onto the packed dirt meeting place to find near silence and less than twenty craftsmen.

The ones who had shown up looked somber and nervous.

Even Hermest, who was usually bellowing greetings and booming with laughter, was silent as he waited next to his cart of cheese and milk.

Those who did speak, did so in hushed tones as they strapped their goods down tightly.

Some of the folk who typically had cows or donkeys to pull hadn’t brought them today.

Trinia’s stomach twisted as she looked around for anyone who might be willing to pull her cart for her.

She gave up after a few moments and made a beeline for the headman, who, as usual, was at the head of the line with his ledger book, checking in folks attending and writing down their inventory.

Even if he hadn’t been in his usual spot, Headman Gerald would have been easy to find.

He was the tallest man in Oakwall and one of the burliest, though that didn’t make him any less spry.

He had a boisterous laugh and a kind smile and had done right by their village since he’d been made headman nearly twenty years prior.

He always went out of his way to help and such altruism is what got him voted into the position year after year.

She hoped that would extend to her today.

Headman Gerald saw her rapid approach and looked up. In his eyes, she could see how exhausted he was.

“Trinia, hello, you’re here to check in?” The eager tone of his voice had her both nervous and relieved.

“I want to, it’s just...” She glanced around, still searching for someone, anyone who could pull her cart.

“I swear to you that the warriors mean no harm. They only want to trade. And, as promised, every family who participates is guaranteed one full elk processed and dried by the warriors themselves. Just for participating. Additional trades with them can still be bartered.”

Trinia snapped her gaze back to Headman Gerald, eyes wide. One full elk each . It was a wonder more families hadn’t chosen to attend.

But then... she could also understand their reservations. They were probably picturing the burly and quick-tempered Govek. His reputation for being unpredictable and dangerous was so prominent, it nearly drowned out all the good his hunting skills had done for them over the years.

“It’s true,” Headman Gerald said with a quick nod.

“I just received the bird from Chief Ergoth a few moments ago with this offer. They are bringing the elk to the trade as we speak. Before they only made assurances of our safety, but they must have realized that some of our members might be put off and well...” He looked out over the group readying to trade with a long sigh.

“Hopefully, this means that more will participate. I am thankful that you are here, at least. Your goods will be well received.”

“I want to participate, but Victir decided not to come. He can’t pull my cart for me.”

The headman blinked his gray eyes wide. “Ah. That is a problem. Let’s see...” He glanced around, obviously seeing what she did. A complete lack of anyone who could help.

“Tobbis can pull for you, Trinia.”

Trinia turned around to find Ronhold, the best and most profitable cobbler in Oakwall, approaching with his teenage son. The young Tobbis looked about as grumpy as a sheep on sheering day, but his father’s burly hand was so tight on his shoulder there was no way to escape.

Ronhold and his family were well-known in the village, both for their outgoing personalities and their extremely successful footwear business. They were the only cobblers in Oakwall with the skill of making boots large enough for the orcs’ feet.

And it earned them many successful trades.

“Tobbis would be happy to pull for you today, wouldn’t you, Tobbis?” Ronhold looked to his young son, daring him to argue. The boy looked at the ground and grumbled something Trinia couldn’t hear.

“Are you sure, Tobbis?” Headman Gerald obviously saw the same hesitation that Trinia did.

“Course he’s sure!” Ronhold slapped his son’s back. “Now go on son. Follow Trinia back to her cart.”

Trinia wanted to argue, but she didn’t have any room to do so. The only other option was to have the headman himself pull for her. So, she waved Tobbis toward the path to her bakery and examined his scrawny arms. She wondered if he even had the strength to pull all her goods.

“It’s just this way,” she told him.

“I know where the bakery is,” he grumbled indignantly.

She rose her brows.

“Tobbis. Get along,” Ronhold said sternly.

The way it was worded had Trinia wondering if he meant get along on your way or get along with her.

Didn’t matter regardless. He was just pulling the cart for her. If she did a good enough trade, the load would be lightened, and she’d be able to pull it back on her own. The awkward walk would only last for a small portion of the morning.

She glanced at Tobbis from the corner of her eye. The boy was about as gangly as a wet noodle with stringy brown hair to match. His mother and father had lush waves of auburn hair and she wondered how their son had gotten the color but lost the texture. Or perhaps it was just unwashed?

The silence was deadly uncomfortable, and she ventured to break it.

“You... just turned nineteen, didn’t you? A few days ago at that,” Trinia asked casually. She only remembered because his mother had commissioned a cake. “Congratulations on becoming an adult.”

He blinked at her and then scratched the back of his neck. There was a noticeable sweat stain under his arm. One that was dry. There were old oil and food stains marring the cream-colored cotton too. How many days in a row had he worn this shirt? Trinia edged away, grateful she wasn’t downwind.

“It was. You and your sister didn’t show.

” His voice was rather flat and Trinia’s brow pinched with confusion.

Being the only child of the best cobbler in town, the man who made all the orcs’ shoes, Tobbis was well renowned.

Their meeting hall had been used to host his coming of age party and the entire village had been invited.

But he’d noticed her lack of attendance?

“I’m sorry. I was too busy with the bakery.” A pang of guilt twinged in her chest.

The boy just shrugged.

“Figured. Baking’s about all you ever do.”

The flat disinterest in the boy’s tone made her feel a little slighted. “People do like bread,” she remarked with narrowed eyes. Her goods were considered more of a luxury than a staple in their village, but she still had regular customers.

“I guess.” He started to pick at his teeth with his pinky finger. “The cake was dry.”

Trinia’s mouth fell open, but before she could quell her urge to trip him, he said, “How come Yerina didn’t attend, then?”

That question had a mite more emotion behind it. Emotion akin to a toddler whining about a toy. “I don’t know. I’m not my sister’s keeper.”

“I thought her and Govek were broken up.”

“They are.”

“I’ll give him a what for if he tries to touch her again.”

Trinia barely managed to prevent a snort. Govek could flatten this little boy with his big toe.

“She’s going to the trade today. I saw her looking all prettied up. She going to meet someone?”

Trinia rolled her eyes. Of course, Tobbis would have a crush on her sister. Just about every teenage boy in town did. “She wants Govek back.”

“What?” the boy shrieked so loud his voice cracked.

“He’s going to be the next chief of Rove Wood Clan,” Trinia remarked carefully. “Or have you not heard?”

“I heard. I thought they were bad jokes!”

“Well, according to my sister, it’s not. And she wants to be matriarch of Rove Wood, so...”

“What the blast does she even see in that beast anyway? All he’s got is a raging, dangerous temper and a hideous crooked nose.”

“It’s probably the muscle. Most women like a man who’s fit.” Trinia mused over how fit the orc from the woods was. He was a little leaner than Govek, a little less intimidating.

And he was probably one of the warlord’s fighters. Her stomach twisted up again.

“You’ve got no room to be arrogant.”

Trinia snapped from her thoughts. “Excuse me?”

“You think you could get someone with muscles looking like you do? You could stand to skip a few meals.”

White hot anger flashed down Trinia’s spine and her palm itched with want to slap the mouth right off this wretch’s face. Her voice took on a deadly low tone. “ Excuse me .”

“N-nothing.” The boy actually shrank away a bit and Trinia gritted her teeth. Slapping him would do no good in the long run. Even if it would feel mighty fine right now.

Tobbis hurried over to her cart and lifted the handles. He wouldn’t even meet her eyes as he adjusted the weight of it. She walked to the back to load up the last few bags.

“You aren’t thinking of riding, are you?”

“And what if I did?” she said low and slow. “You saying you’re so weak you can’t even pull a full cart? No wonder Yerina doesn’t give you the time of day.”

The boy went so red she almost felt bad, but he just turned his head away and muttered something under his breath that he was lucky she didn’t catch. Then he began to pull.

Trinia’s mood was dark as she picked up her basket of cookies and creams.

This would be a very long walk.