Page 54 of The Orc Chief’s Baker (Orc Mates Of Faeda #4)

Chapter

Forty-Two

brOVDIR

“ D on’t you worry, Headman. These boys have got a fine hold on that wall. None of your villagers are going to splat today. And we’ve got a boar’s butt all nice and plugged up under the water too so the sinkhole can’t get any bigger.”

“That— They... what? ” the headman exclaimed. His face was pale. The group of five human men that had come with him were equally shocked and disheveled. “Where is Chief Sythcol?”

“Our conjurer chief is a little out of sorts now. Think he’s unconscious in the woods over yonder there. Right, boys? Where’d you cart him off to?”

“He’s on a rock somewhere.”

“We draped him nicely. Like a tablecloth! Humans like those, right?” Ulid looked to Elder Plog expectantly.

“That they do, son. Very wise.”

Brovdir would have groaned had he been able to produce sound out of his worthless throat.

Plog continued. “Sythcol might be underdressed, but our warrior chief is right over here with your baker. He’s in much better shape, though a little damp from his catapult into the sinkhole.”

“He was—you were—are you all right?”

“Fine,” Brovdir coughed. He tried to get more volume, but it was no use. He’d bellowed too much and now he had no words left. At the absolute worst time.

“He’s fine, Headman Gerald,” Trinia said as he quickly went back to digging her leg out of the muck. It popped free, and he gave it a quick once over. She was no worse for wear. Thank the Fades.

Headman Gerald let out a sharp breath that seemed to give him courage, and he stepped in closer to the huge sinkhole. Little waves lapped gently at the muddy banks. It seemed the intake had slowed to nearly a halt now that the outtake was plugged.

“Careful, Headman!” Estoc’s oldest son proclaimed. “It’s undercut there, I think.”

Headman Gerald backed off and examined the group with confusion before his eyes found the group of thirty or so boys with their arms outstretched toward the wall. The younger sons had their brows knitted with concentration, but the older ones looked almost relaxed.

“Are you boys all right?”

“Course we’re all right! It’s just a little bit of magic. Can’t you see that?” one son said snidely.

“Humans can’t see magic, you dolt!”

“You’re doing well, boys. Keep it up while we call for help,” Headman Gerald said in a much more powerful voice. He straightened his back and looked around with more purpose. “Everyone on the other side of the wall has been moved, but we need to brace it. You boys can’t hold that magic all night.”

“Bet you we could!”

“I’m not even breaking a sweat!”

Headman Gerald turned to Brovdir. “This is what you were meeting with me about tomorrow, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “And... more...” His throat felt like open blisters were being grated with a metal file.

“Let’s speak on it tomorrow,” Headman Gerald said with a sure nod. “One task at a time. Could your warriors cut down and carry some larger trees? We could use those to brace the wall.”

Brovdir rose his brows but nodded.

“You want to use the warriors?” Trinia asked. “Folks won’t be put off by them?”

Headman Gerald shook his head and dug in his coat pocket for some paper. “It’s high time we saw the benefit of having warrior orcs in these woods. The tension between our communities has gone on far too long.”

With that, he held out the parchment to Brovdir expectantly.

Brovdir exhaled with relief and took it. Trinia gave his arm a squeeze as he began to write.

As the birds flew off, Elder Plog approached. “I suppose the conjurers can help cut down trees too, as long as they’re willing to learn the magic from me.”

Brovdir’s brows rose at the elder and the male shrugged.

“Physical tasks have always been put to the wayside in our clan. It’s not the kind of magic Ergoth liked to have taught, so nobody knows it. But I learned it long ago all on my own. Great fun to throw things at people too far away to know it was you!” Elder Plog said with a laugh.

“So, you taught it to the boys? Just now?” Trinia asked as Brovdir helped her to her feet. Her leg seemed to hold weight well.

“Earlier during the digging.” The elder shrugged.

“Too many big rocks, too many small hands. You know, it’s not hard to learn it if you try.

This kind of magic is what we’re meant to do.

Orcs are guardians of the land. We aren’t supposed to use the Fades gifts to force growth.

We’re meant to work with Faeda, not try to change it. We forgot that along the way.”

Brovdir’s shoulders sagged as he thought of his brethren who had never even tried to commune with the Fades before.

A warm hand patted his shoulder, and he looked down at Elder Plog’s kind face. “We’ve all lost our way, haven’t we? All lost the purpose the Fades set us before they went into the great unknown.”

“You mean when they went to sleep?” one of the sons asked.

The elder chuckled and shrugged and Brovdir could not fathom what Plog meant by any of this, but after today, he would never again think the male’s odd words were entirely nonsense.

“Brovdir,” Headman Gerald said, “if your orcs cut and place the trees, my men can build braces at the bottom.”

Brovdir considered. “Set in holes?”

“Yes, that’s a good idea. We’ll need some for both sides. How many trees do you think it could take?”

The conversation continued until the orcs and men arrived to work. There was no time to linger on the devastation, and soon everyone had a task to do. Warriors alongside conjurers. Orcs alongside men. None noticed their differences as they pulled together to right the wall.

“It’s unusual for you, isn’t it?” Trinia asked him as she clasped his hand. “Having a mixed community like this.”

He nodded. He’d never seen the like before, not in all his years.

“This is why the peace is so important,” she said quietly. “Because in times like this, when hardship inevitably rears, it takes all of us to right things again.”

That he could agree with wholeheartedly.

“Hold that steady!”

“Shit, it’s too heavy!”

Brovdir jerked around to find two conjurer orcs trying to bring down a huge tree. It was cut partway through already but leaned dangerously toward the wall where others were working. They struggled against its weight as Brovdir ran over.

Hendr got there first and pushed the tree back toward the forest with one hand while slicing through the remaining bark with another. Toj caught it as it came down and hoisted the huge trunk on his shoulder as the conjurers stared in awe.

“They’re... really strong.” Trinia’s voice was breathy with shock.

Brovdir blinked down at her, considering this level of strength was fairly typical for warrior orcs. He noted that most of the warriors had no trouble moving the trees on their own, while it took two or three conjurers to lift them.

As the work continued, the shock gave way to determination and the repetition of building the braces became routine enough for light conversation.

Humans and orcs arrived with food, all of which was put in a central location and shared.

The orc sons were relieved of their duties and ran off to play with a few of the human children who’d joined their parents to help.

As he listened to their laughter and looked into their smiling faces, he could see that the brush with death had left no lasting mark.

The sun had begun to set when they finally got the last brace into position. It wasn’t perfect, but it was stable, and the humans seemed content with it. Goodbyes were shared and thanks were given, and the relief was palpable.

“This is what we needed,” Headman Gerald said quietly as he joined Brovdir at the edge of the sinkhole.

Most everyone was already heading off into the woods.

“There’s been too much tension of late, too many unknowns.

Pulling together like this is exactly what our peoples needed to get back the sense of community we had before. ”

“Apologies,” Brovdir managed despite the pain the words brought him. “Was the warrior’s arrival that brought tension.”

But Headman Gerald shrugged his burly shoulders and shook his head. “It was, but the only constant in this life is change. There will always be new challenges, and it will always be up to us, as leaders, to pull our people together and see them through the hardships.”

Headman Gerald looked to Brovdir, met his eyes expectantly.

He took a breath and nodded. “Yes. Agreed.”

No longer would he stand aside and hope that another would step into the role given to him. No longer would he allow his judgment to be waylaid by the opinions of others.

He would be chief of these orcs, warrior and conjurer alike. From this point forward, he would put the peace of their communities first.

Headman Gerald smiled knowingly. The creases at his eyes became more pronounced and his age showed. This male was as wise as the elders themselves.

“Tomorrow,” Brovdir said. “I will tell you all. Start fresh.”

Gerald’s smile widened, and he gave Brovdir a nod before heading off toward the group of humans that remained. “Let’s head home.”

Home. Brovdir looked up to search for Trinia and found that she was already coming over to him. Her clothes were a filthy mess, and her curly hair was disheveled, but her expression was nothing but warm.

She was breathtaking. He loved her with all he had in him.

Trinia held out her hand, and he took it in his, soaking up her warmth and infusing her with his own.

“Let’s go home,” she said, and he found himself smiling, because with her at his side, he already was.