Page 6 of The Orc Chief’s Baker (Orc Mates Of Faeda #4)

Toj stepped forward, looking only half as burly and not nearly as swift as his warlord counterpart. But still he repeated strongly, “I challenge you!”

“ What ?” Karthoc’s single word was a breathy, shocked hiss. He had not a single mark on his hide to heal. Brovdir hadn’t even gotten a chance to strike.

Toj rose his square chin. “I will fight you for the right to meet these humans of Rove Wood.”

“No,” Karthoc said, more in disbelief than anger.

“I challenge as well.” Hendr spat thickly upon the ground and Brovdir was not surprised in the least that the obstinate male had stepped forward.

“You know how dire our numbers are. How can you, as our leader, not give us a single fucking chance to woo these humans? How can you deny us the opportunity to find a conquest? To have sons ?”

There was a hum from the other warriors. Murmurs of agreement.

And Brovdir exhaled low and slow, releasing tension as his plan was set in motion.

“This is my command ,” Karthoc growled low in his throat. “It is the agreement that Ergoth and I came to.”

“Since when do you follow that whiney Chief Ergoth’s whims?” Hendr demanded.

Brovdir went cold as he watched as Karthoc’s face flattened. His brother’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed. His long, sharp claws slunk out from between his fingers. They still dripped with Brovdir’s blood.

“I have never followed Chief Ergoth’s whims.” Karthoc’s words were low and clipped.

“And in this, I only based my decision on his logic . The only way the Rove Wood orcs can sustain their numbers is through the peace with Oakwall. We cannot risk threatening that peace by thrusting you warriors into their midst. You know how different you are from them.”

“We wouldn’t scare them off!” Ogvick argued.

“It is not worth even risking it. Without the human women playing conquest, the conjurers of Rove Wood would die out in just a few generations, and their healing tinctures will die out with them.”

“But we have magic wielding warriors now,” Ogvick said.

Karthoc scowled. “Yes, and you all know that those warriors don’t know how to do a blasted thing with their magic, let alone produce enough healing tinctures to sustain our legions.”

Another tense silence descended as the warriors considered their warlord’s words. Brovdir could see their thoughts on their faces. The will to obey their leader’s commands fighting against the desire for a son.

The crowd of orcs grew restless. Their muscles bunched and flexed. Their feet took steps forward. Their murmuring hardened into mutters of indignation.

Karthoc’s eyes widened just slightly in shock that his incredibly loyal subordinates would argue, but Brovdir wasn’t surprised. Deep in his guts, he’d known which one would win. He knew which he would choose if he were in their place. Which one he had chosen.

“I challenge you, Warlord Karthoc. For the right to at least meet these humans,” Toj said again.

“I will not?—”

“I am done with talk!” Toj stepped forward as the others stepped back. “Fight me or concede.”

Karthoc swung back his fist without preamble and slammed it hard into the stomach of the male. The orc crumbled instantly, gasping and writhing.

And then another male stepped forward.

And another.

And more still .

Every male in the circle stepped forth, ready to challenge the moment Karthoc cut another down.

Brovdir felt a hard pang of remorse in his chest.

He’d preyed upon their kinds’ primal urge to bear sons. To find conquests. The drive to protect and woo and win was instinctual. As ancient and strong as the Fades themselves.

Every male in the clan would fight Karthoc, one by one, despite odds and logic. They would follow Karthoc into certain doom under any other circumstances, but the need to breed was a force the warlord could not fight against.

His brother would have to fight every male in his party to stop this now.

It was no wonder he’d wanted to keep Oakwall a secret from the males.

Karthoc growled low under his breath, fury lacing his every muscle.

“ Fine ,” he snarled so harshly dread skittered through Brovdir’s veins. “I will find a way for you to meet with the humans of Oakwall Village. But you will obey every one of my orders while we do so.”

Brovdir felt his still stitching body tingling hot with relief.

His plan had worked.

His brother had conceded to the will of the warriors.

“Yes, Warlord.” A chorus of low voices sounded as the males stepped back.

“And if any one of you steps out of place, I will challenge you. You may be my best warriors, but I will not have insubordination among my males. I’ll cull you the very moment you step out of line.” Karthoc’s tone left no room for denial or hesitation. He meant what he said.

The males all nodded silently and returned to their duties. But there was a distinct energy to them. A kind of unsteady relief and brightness.

Hope.

There was not one of them in this party who had not tried to have a son before. And very few of them had succeeded.

But now, with these humans who did not fear or hate them, they might stand a better chance.

Trinia’s bright face flashed behind Brovdir’s eyes and his breath caught in his newly healed lungs.

“Brovdir.” Karthoc’s voice was a deadly low rumble that quaked in Brovdir’s gut. “Follow me. Now. ”

Brovdir didn’t hesitate and he finally clambered back to his feet, though his body danced with the anxiety that he was about to be challenged again. And this time, Karthoc would not hold back.

He followed his brother into the tree line and deep into the forest, past deep springs that were bubbling with healing waters, over fallen logs that were springing with life even in death, around huge trees so thick all fifty of the Warlord’s orcs could fit inside the mighty trunk.

Karthoc finally paused in a clearing and Brovdir stood tense under his brother’s furious gaze.

“ What happened ?”

Brovdir tried to speak, but all that came out of his throat was a painful garbled growl. The old wound in his neck might have been physically healed but only rest would allow his voice to return. No magic could bring it back.

“I told you to avoid Oakwall. It was my highest order. How dare you defy me?”

Brovdir swallowed hard, willing his voice to come so he could explain about the blighted cat that had forced his hand.

“Did she even see you, or are you just caught up in your own blasted urges?”

Brovdir stood tall and tapped next to his eye.

“She really saw your ugly mug and didn’t run screaming?” Karthoc snapped. “Fuck, I guess the warriors might have a blasted chance.”

Brovdir’s gut twisted at the slight.

“I’m already run to the bone trying to get Ergoth and his half-crazed conjurers to see a little reason and now I must also add this task as well!

How the fuck am I going to manage to introduce fifty orcs to the people of Oakwall?

It’s not like I can just show up at their gates!

They’ll think we’re there to fucking invade . ”

Brovdir swallowed hard, worked for the last scrape of volume he had and managed a single word.

“Trade.”

“Trade.” Karthoc searched his face, but Brovdir’s eyes were already watering from the pain that single word caused and he was unable to force another. “What do you mean trade ?”

Brovdir held up the beeswax bag and pointed toward Oakwall.

Karthoc searched his face a moment, putting together the parts. “Do you mean the trade Ergoth mentioned? The one they all do with Oakwall twice a moon?”

Brovdir nodded, tapped his chest, the bag, and then pointed toward Oakwall again.

“You saying she invited you to the trade?”

He gave another swift nod.

“Fuck, Brovdir.” Karthoc threw back his head in exasperation. “Why didn’t you just sneak over there and leave the rest of the males out of it? Why did you have to make this whole thing a fucking blasted mess ?”

Brovdir gave his brother a dry, unamused look and jerked his head toward the Rove Wood Clan.

“Don’t give me that. You could have managed to get there somehow.

..” Karthoc paused, swiped a hand over his face, and cursed under his breath.

“Fuck. Fine, you’re right. They would have spotted you.

You really met a woman from Oakwall? One whose never met a warrior outside Govek , with your teeth looking like that and all your battle-hardened scars, and instead of running like the rest of them do, she fucking gave you sweets and invited you to see her again? ”

That pretty much summed it up.

Karthoc groaned and Brovdir held his breath.

And then the tension finally left his brother’s frame, and he thought he might collapse with relief.

“Brovdir, I can’t decide if I want to slap your back or punch your nose clean off your face.”

Brovdir huffed a laugh and was pleased to find that his ribs had fully healed.

“You really have made my work here so much more complicated. I was hoping we could leave in a few days’ time. I’ll never be able to tear my males away from the women if they start getting their attention.”

Brovdir brought arms up and rocked them as if he was cradling a babe.

Karthoc sighed heavily. “Yes, I know it would be worth it. I know better than all of you.”

His brother’s expression turned haunted and Brovdir lowered his arms back down. Karthoc hadn’t had a son, but he’d gotten incredibly close. The woman he’d taken for his own had lived with them for nearly a year and none could deny how dearly their warlord had cared for her.

Brovdir did not know what had transpired between Karthoc and Ovinia in those final days before she had gone, but whatever it was still haunted his brother even now.

“Fine.” Karthoc’s voice was flat. “I will find a way. Perhaps Govek knows of a path we could take that would conceal our sight and scent and prevent Ergoth from stopping us. But you are going to owe me quite a weighty boon. I hope you realize that.”

All the pain was instantly forgotten, and he gripped the bag tight in his hand. Pleasure and contentment burst through him at the warm, sweet scent.

He’d pay any price to see his woman again.