Page 4 of Her Orc Blacksmiths

“Come on, then,” she says. “Let’s get you back on the road.”

I scramble after them and untie the reins from the branch. “How long before I get there?”

Ritta shoulders a large traveling pack. “We’ll be there after nightfall. If we hadn’t found you, you would have had to stay in the forest overnight, because the road gets a bit treacherous in places.”

“Wait, you’re escorting me?” My face flames again. “That’s?—”

I want to say it’s unnecessary, but wasn’t I frightened of the forest just earlier? It won’t get any better when night creeps up on me.

“That’s lovely, thank you,” I force out instead.

I don’t know whether arriving at the Hill accompanied by two orc scouts will make my arrival any less strange, but maybe being accepted by these women is a good sign.

We start out on foot, with me leading the horse beside me, but soon enough, it becomes apparent that I’m just no match for the orcs’ loping stride. Sarrai gently suggests I should get up on my mare. I climb in the saddle despite my aching muscles and sigh in relief. From then on, we proceed much more quickly, and I realize that they’d been holding back on me.

We stop once more to let the animal rest, so I hand out more of the biscuits and receive a strip of well-cured dried meat in return. I chew on it, looking from Sarrai to Ritta and back. They’re both incredibly beautiful, with large dark eyes and full lips, but surprisingly delicate eyebrows and ears. Sarrai’s are pierced with several gold hoops that jingle lightly whenever she turns her head.

“Ask away, human,” Ritta says, her lips twisting in a wry smile.

“Huh?” I blink, aware I’d been caught staring at them. “Oh. It’s just… Why would the orcs from your clan pick human women if they have, well, you?”

Ritta bursts out laughing, and Sarrai grins, her white teeth flashing.

She steps toward me and gently takes my chin in her hand. “I asked myself the same at first, but there’s a certain… Ah, I don’t know, a certain appeal to you, I’ll admit. You’re very pretty.” She lets go of my chin and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Unfortunately, you smell all wrong to me.”

“Oh!” I take a step back, sniffing at my clothes. “I’m so sorry. I’ve been on the horse all day?—”

“No, no,” she hurries to say. “I meant, you’re not my mate, much as I would like it. I’d know if you were.”

Ritta shoves her hands in the pockets of her jacket. “I prefer men, but you’re not mine either.”

I purse my lips, thinking. “So when Uram picked Rose to be his mate at my father’s inn…” I muse, “he didn’t choose her for himself? He just knew?”

“Exactly,” Sarrai says a bit sadly.

“That’s not what I imagined,” I murmur, brushing crumbs from the front of my dress.

Ritta lifts one eyebrow in a mocking expression. “Did you think you’d march right into the Hill and have your pick of all the available bachelors?”

“From what you’re saying, I imagine that won’t be the case,” I reply a touch testily.

Sarrai studies me for a moment, then asks, “What sent you running all the way here?”

I glance down at my riding boots. I could lie by omission and say I only wanted to meet my friends and find myself a husband, but these two have been kind to me in a way I hadn’t expected since I told them I’ve come to essentially steal away one of their clansmen.

Finally, I swallow the lump that has become lodged in my throat, and admit, “It was my wedding day yesterday.”

Ritta balks at this. “You’re married and want an orc husband? I don’t think?—”

“My groom never showed,” I say loudly enough to cut through her words. “So, er, I’m not married, no.”

“Oh.” Sarrai steps forward and wraps me in a tight embrace. “I’m sorry to hear that. It must have been so hard for you.”

My surprise at being hugged by a stranger only lasts a moment. Then I put my arms around Sarrai’s waist and squeeze back, because it feels nice, being comforted. It’s then that I realize that my mother never hugged me after the entire debacle with Ansel and the nonexistent wedding. She’d fussed and patted my shoulder, but I missed being hugged like this.

When I let go, my eyes are damp with tears, so I dash them away with the back of my hand.

“Thank you,” I choke out. “I needed that.”

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