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Cedar

W hen she awoke, though, the furs were cold, and Lord Kargorr was gone.

Cedar hastily climbed out of bed, threw on her tunic, pants, and boots, then went to the door. Kiya slept peacefully on the floor, as someone must have let him in during the night.

When she peered out and found no one around, she slipped out into the morning. The camp looked emptier than usual save for a few orclings and their mother. The air was cold, so she went back inside to get the cloak the leather craftsman had made for her.

“He left, you know,” came Rathka’s voice from behind her. Cedar spun around, reflexively clutching the cloak to her chest. Kiya growled where he lay in his bed, and Rathka eyeballed him, making sure to keep a wide berth between them.

“Left?” Cedar echoed. She didn’t understand it. He hadn’t said anything about leaving.

“On a long raid. He gathered up all the warriors before dawn. They hadn’t intended to leave until tomorrow... but he had a fire inside him.” She arched an eyebrow. “Did something happen?”

Cedar’s mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. Something had happened, she thought, but not something that would send Kargorr running at first light without saying goodbye.

Though she supposed he’d never said goodbye before. Why would she expect it now? Because they’d had amazing sex last night, like always?

The warm brightness that had surrounded her when she awoke fully dissipated. Rathka observed her face as Cedar cycled through one possibility after another. He must have changed his mind abruptly in the night about which day to leave, probably because of the weather. He didn’t want to disturb her, so he left quietly.

Still, she couldn’t help wondering if she’d done something wrong but was utterly oblivious to it.

“Nothing happened,” Cedar finally answered after sifting through her options. “I expected him to go.” It had only been a matter of time after the delegation returned. He’d let her in on his plan—she had to remember that. Kargorr had probably assumed she would understand what was demanded of him next.

She wished he’d told her how long he would be gone. Now she couldn’t possibly ask Rathka, or the old orc would figure out the perfect way to drive the needle into Cedar’s belly.

But Rathka almost seemed to pity her. She didn’t object when they went on a long walk with Kiya, or stopped to play with the orclings near the leatherworker’s tent, or even when Cedar ventured out of the camp to let Kiya run.

“You’re going to get cold,” Rathka grumped, sliding Cedar’s hood back on over her head.

Perhaps the orc woman was making up for what she’d done. Perhaps this was her deference, the one that Cedar had demanded yesterday.

She didn’t mind it.

That night, though, Cedar found she’d grown so accustomed to Lord Kargorr’s presence that she felt awkward eating her dinner alone. Then she made the cat get on the bed with her, though he was no longer interested in snuggling.

Cedar ran her hands over her belly, hoping she hadn’t misunderstood everything.

Kargorr

He’d awoken early, before the sun rose, his blood alight.

He had taken his yapira . He had pleasured her and filled her with his sarga . He had a new energy he’d never sensed before, as if he could lift a mountain himself.

After a life-mating, almost always the grrosek remained holed up for days on end, wild with their newfound bond, fucking again and again until an orcling was made—or the need was sated and the demand fulfilled.

But Kargorr did not intend to claim Cedar, not yet. He would certainly not go into a wild rut and delay his trip. He could not be perceived as attached while he was still courting the other parog . Not only was a mateless grrosek naturally more aggressive, more driven to explore and take and ruin, but sometimes mate bonds that crossed a parog could bring them together. Other kazek needed to think Kargorr was an option for their own unmated warriors.

And so, instead of curling himself around Cedar and pleasing his sarga with her once again when he awoke to the sunrise, instead of giving in to the urges of the bond and staying for days to fuck her into the bed, he’d risen and demanded his warriors rise, too.

He wanted to destroy.

Most everything had already been prepared for their journey. They were traveling light on the assumption they would find goods and supplies in conquest. They brought only what they needed for the next few days, slung over their cats in leather bags, and ran away into the morning.

Orgha had not asked Lord Kargorr his reasons for the schedule change, and the dour look on Kargorr’s face led his right hand to remain silent.

It didn’t please him to be leaving right now, when all he wanted in the world was to curl up in Cedar’s nest with her and fuck her until she knew she was his—but this was the right thing to do if he wanted to succeed.

They rode long and hard that day, pitching their camp in the dark. Kargorr was glad for it because his sarga ached, almost worse than before he had used them on Cedar, and he was forced to ejaculate two times before they were finally, though temporarily, sated. He tried to argue to them that his yapira was already carrying his orcling, and so there was no need for them to desire her, but in this matter they were unconvinced.

Another day of riding later, and Orgha suggested stopping early for the night so their mounts would have time to eat and rest. They were making good time, and Kargorr wanted to keep beating the sunlight, but he knew his right hand was correct. He needed his warriors fresh.

When they reached the first outpost his scout had discovered, they rode in without preamble. Lord Kargorr swung his axe from Liga’s back, so filled with his lust that he wanted to move fast, to demolish his enemies quickly so he might return to the parog . To Cedar.

But he had other things to do first.

Cedar

When less than a week had passed, Cedar’s pride finally eroded enough that she asked Rathka, “How long will they be gone?” She thought surely Kargorr would have returned by now, or at least soon.

But the knowing smugness she had expected didn’t appear on the orc woman’s face. Instead, Rathka frowned, like the question worried her.

“You don’t know?” She sighed deeply as they sat on some high rocks above the camp, watching Kiya playing with one of his siblings. “It is at least four days’ march to their first destination. Orgha was not sure how many destinations they had. ‘As long as our strength holds out,’ he told me.”

Cedar was surprised to hear Rathka share anything personal from her life with Orgha. Most of the time, she refused to speak a word about herself or her own preferences.

“It could be a month,” Rathka said thoughtfully. “Maybe many months. Who knows?”

It landed like a heavy, sharp stone in Cedar’s belly. Many months . She hugged her middle, purely out of instinct, thinking how much would change and how quickly. She expected he would leave on campaigns from time to time, as he had before. But not for whole months.

Cedar rose from her seat, endeavoring not to let her surprise or her disappointment show.

“It’s time for Kiya’s dinner,” she said, turning to hide her face as her lip trembled. “Let’s go back.”

Rathka followed along without her usual objections, which she always made when Cedar attempted special trips for her pet. Cedar whistled and Kiya came running, and the cat received a nugget of dried chicken liver from her pocket for his obedience.

When Cedar went to bed that night, for the first time since she’d been stolen, she let herself weep. It was quiet and slow, but it was enough for Kiya to hear her and hop onto the bed, concerned. She pulled him close, wishing it was Kargorr there with her instead, and fell asleep with her head in his fur.

The following days were some of the longest of Cedar’s life. The feeling that something was missing gnawed at her insides, as if she was hungry but her stomach was in her soul. At night she could almost sense Kargorr there, a ghost separated from her by a hundred miles.

She hated it. She hated how helpless she felt, waiting and watching. If she was going to keep her mind intact, she needed to find some way to occupy herself.

As they did every day, Cedar and Rathka wandered around the village. The sky was empty of clouds, and though it was bitterly cold, the sun was welcome. Cedar asked every orc she came upon if they could use her help for something, but most of them were too surprised to give her a straight answer, and some gave her dirty looks, aimed carefully at the ground.

There may be a few humans in the village, but a new one, a strange one, was clearly not trusted.

The only orc who entertained her was the leatherworker who had given her the faun’s pelt. He had been brought a fresh kill, a massive bear, and wanted to save and use the hide.

Rathka strongly disapproved of Cedar stepping in to learn the work, saying it was below even the lord’s concubine, but Cedar ignored her and listened to what the old orc had to teach her. It was disgusting, truly. Perhaps that was why she ended up enjoying it so much. She couldn’t think of anything else but the tear of the flesh away from the hide, the stench or the endless scraping. It occupied her fully, and when the day was through, her arms were sore and the leatherworker was pleased she would come back.

“You smell foul,” Rathka had said as they ate their dinners. “We ought to visit the bath tent.”

After Cedar had some time to digest, they walked to the baths at the other end of the camp. Cedar came here as often as she could, but they glared at her if it was too frequently. This time, the tent was empty, and she and Rathka each filled a tub with hot water from the fire.

Kiya stuck up his nose at the sight of the tubs and sat irritably in the corner, as if he feared one of them trying to pull him in.

As they undressed, Cedar saw Rathka had some scars of her own. The orc woman noticed Cedar taking inventory and her eyebrows rose.

“I was going to be a warrior,” Rathka said as she sank into the hot water. Cedar tested it with her leg first, then submerged herself in the next tub. “I trained. But my leg isn’t good, and I was denied when I came of age.”

Perhaps that explained some of her bitterness.

“I’m sorry,” Cedar said. Rathka did always seem rather restless. “Could you have trained other warriors instead?”

Rathka looked at her like she’d sprouted antlers. “Only a seasoned warrior trains younger warriors. Don’t be ridiculous.”

The orc slipped under the surface of the water to wet her hair, and Cedar followed her example. Then Cedar soaped her body, but as her hands grazed over her nipples, she instantly thought of Kargorr, and her muscles went tense.

That old question came back to her, again and again. Did he still plan to take more concubines? Had anything really changed between them if he could leave without saying goodbye?

The silence drew out as Cedar was lost in her thoughts.

“You grew too attached.”

Rathka’s soft words startled her. Cedar glanced up from where she’d been staring into the dirty water.

“You think he cares for you, don’t you?” Rathka went on. There was no judgment in her tone. It was mostly sympathy.

Cedar couldn’t trust herself to speak. In truth, she did think that. Kargorr had led her to believe it. She hadn’t imagined the night before he left, and it had all been plain to her then how he felt.

Right?

Finally, Cedar decided to set her foot in the sand. To carve out a space for herself. To insist that she had one.

“He does care for me,” Cedar said matter-of-factly. She didn’t follow it up, because she had no need to explain herself to someone like Rathka.

“Hmm.” The orc woman washed her hair thoughtfully. “But has he taken you as his yapira ? No. He would have, if he cared for you the way you think he does.”

It was true that he’d made no commitments to her. As far as they were concerned, Cedar was nothing more than a concubine to be sown. But perhaps humans couldn’t be yapira s, and he wanted her anyway. Could that be enough?

Cedar didn’t want to argue about it with Rathka. The old woman could believe what she wanted, but only Cedar knew what had transpired between them, and that was what mattered.

So she remained silent, and Rathka appeared to understand the message. They both bathed in the quiet, no sound but an owl hooting beyond the leather walls. Soon the water grew cold and Cedar stepped out, pulling down one of the furs left out for drying to wrap herself up.

Rathka still did not emerge from the water. Her eyes were closed, and her head was leaned back on the edge of the tub, as if she was asleep.

“He has not taken you as his yapira because he plans to have others.” She turned her head slightly toward Cedar and opened one eye. “Surely you know that by now.”

The words pierced deep. Cedar was already soft, already vulnerable, and Rathka had found the perfect dagger to slide into her chest.

You are mine. You will always be mine. Kargorr had clearly staked his claim on her, but that didn’t mean he belonged to her in return. He had said this was the beginning—could he have meant she was simply the first?

“The tent,” Rathka said. “It’s much bigger than his previous one, is it not?”

Cedar froze as she hovered over her pile of clothes.

The tent was bigger. Much, much bigger. One whole side remained empty, which Cedar had simply assumed was for the baby. Or perhaps Lord Kargorr’s spoils.

Did he really intend to share that space with another concubine?

“You are carrying his orcling,” Rathka went on, and Cedar wished more than anything the old orc woman would stop, but she didn’t have the voice. “So you serve no further purpose for the next year. Lord Kargorr will want many orclings. When he returns with his next concubine, she will take your place.” Rathka closed her one eye and turned back to the ceiling, exhaling with relaxation. “You will be relegated to the bed in the back.”

Cedar’s chest burned. Her throat closed, so her breaths came fast and shallow. She struggled to put on her clothes, her hands trembling as she tried to slip on her pants and tunic.

Rathka was wrong. She had to be wrong.

But that had always been Kargorr’s plan. She knew his ambitions, how he sought to create an empire. What made Cedar think that would change now?