Page 120 of The Orc Outcast's Mate

Govek’s mind reeled. What had mild-mannered Brovdir done to muck up relations with Oakwall?

Did this mean Oakwall knew about the upcoming merger?

Govek turned slightly to search out Miranda in the crowd, using her presence to aid his addled thoughts. She seemed well chatting with the other women.

“I can tell you how to find it and you could arrive early.”

“Wouldn’t your father scent our trail?”

“How many males are you planning to take with you?”

“All of them.”

What the... “That’s too many, Karthoc. Just take three or four.”

“There’s no time to work a challenge, and with how badly my males want to go, I’d likely have three or four dead by the end of the fighting.” Karthoc glanced toward the platform where Govek’s father was still seated. The chief hadn’t spotted them.

“Viravia makes scented oils,” Govek said, recalling the brief conversation from the night prior that had Miranda cackling with glee. “They might cover your tracks.”

“Tavggol’s widow? I’ve not even been introduced to her yet. You think she’d give me anything without complaint?” Karthoc asked, narrowing his eyes on the women seated across the room.

“Viravia isn’t like the other women. She won’t chase you out.”

Karthoc grunted. “Let’s hope the women of Oakwall share that sentiment.”

Govek’s eyes widened.

He was taking all fifty of his warriors to the trade to find conquests? No wonder he didn’t want Chief Ergoth to find out.

“Govek, what are you doing over there?”

A shiver went up Govek’s spine at his father’s call, and he turned to face him.

Ergoth’s golden eyes narrowed with suspicion as they landed on him and Karthoc. “Come over here, my son. Now.”

“Do not tell him,” Karthoc hissed before giving Govek a sharp pat on the shoulder and walking away.

“Karthoc,” Govek called, words slipping quietly from his lips unbidden. His cousin turned back. “Do you really have... seventeen?”

He’d been choosing not to think about this. It didn’t matter. The warriors who could wield magic were at Baelrok Forge, and he and Miranda would be here in the Rove Woods.

And yet . . .

“Yes,” Karthoc said with a sure nod and a rush of heat flooded Govek.

Seventeen other orcs like him. Seventeen warrior males who could conjure magic.

Govek curled his fists to fight the rising tide of emotions. It didn’t matter. It changed nothing.

He turned to make his way to his father.

Agol and Wolvc stood at the bottom of the platform, chests puffed, but they allowed Govek to climb the few steps onto the wood stage and into his father’s daunting presence.

“My son. Finally escaped from the woods, I see. What were you speaking on with Karthoc?” Ergoth asked, still seated comfortably upon his thrown, barely bothering to look Govek’s way.

“He asked for directions to the best hunting grounds.”

Ergoth flashed him a scowl, obviously suspicious, but instead of prying, he scooped up a cup of mead from the thick arm of his chair and took a long swig.

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