Page 53 of The Orc's Wife

“We give our thanks to this abundant land for feeding us,” said the Imperator, his voice loud and clear over the crowd. “Let us drink our thanks, and then, let us be merry. This land is forever ours, and we are forever strong!”

He downed his mead, drinking heartily, and as soon as he put the goblet on the table, a servant topped it off. The Imp drank again.

Urgan glanced at his men. They each took just a sip to be polite, but otherwise, they weren’t drinking. He grinned. Smart orcs. Mead blunted reflexes, and they knew it. After all, he had trained them himself.

No one knew how long it would take for the poison to work. Savinia, the human healer, mixed it in the mead, adding herbs that would disguise the smell and taste. But she had been afraid to add too much poison. If some started dropping dead before others drank their fill, the plan would fail.

Good thing the orcs were drinking without restraint.

Soon, there would be food and music, and they would drink even more. All that was left to do was wait, and everything would resolve itself.

Or not.

A human woman’s cry of pain drew his attention to the Imperator. Ragan was holding a human servant’s wrist in his hand, watching her cruelly as she writhed in his hold.

It was Una.

“You will stand here, by my side, and you will watch when they bring in his body,” he was saying. “I want to see you weep, human girl. And if you don’t, I’ll find another way to make you cry.”

Una clamped her mouth shut and stopped resisting. Ragan was holding her close, but at least now, he wasn’t hurting her.

The Imp rose again and spoke.

“Now, we have another victory to be grateful for. The traitor who had schemed with humans to slaughter orcs is dead. Urgan the Bloodthirsty is dead! Soon, my guards will bring us his head on a platter.”

Urgan rose, stifling the hiss of pain when his knee protested. It was a complication. The Imp had been supposed to announce his death much later. There would be mayhem if they discovered his body wasn’t there. He would have to play for time if needed.

That was why he would have never used poison himself. So damned unreliable.

It took only a few minutes for the guards to arrive. Ten of them, all armed, with steady hands and watchful eyes. One of them leaned close to the Imperator and spoke. Before the Imp could react, Ragan stood up and twisted Una’s arm, bringing her to her knees.

There was fear in his eyes. Ragan feared that Urgan was alive and would come and punish Ragan’s betrayal. Which was exactly what he should be fearing, thought Urgan viciously.

Only Ragan was a warrior, and warriors were trained to turn their fear into violence. As Urgan watched, his blood turning to fire in his veins, Ragan gripped Una’s arm so hard it could break…

“Don’t kill her,” said the Imperator, and Ragan’s hold loosened just a notch. “Get up, slave. Where is your mate?”

She stood up, and even though she was trembling, she straightened her spine and looked the Imperator in the eyes, her face cool. Urgan almost sagged with relief, seeing she wasn’t angry or fearful. She knew she should play for time.

“Dead in your dungeons,” she said, adding just the right amount of hate and pain to her voice.

She cried out when Ragan squeezed her arm hard. The crowd was quiet, but not completely silent. There were gasps, muffled giggles, murmurs of gossip spreading as fast as a lightning.

“Speak to your Imperator with respect, filth!”

She clenched her jaw and said nothing. The Imperator leaned close to her and sniffed.

“She’s lying,” he said, his face twisting into a hateful mask. “She’s using the human magic for deception. No smell. No truth.”

Ragan twisted Una’s arm harder, and her scream sounded so pitiful. Urgan could tell she had tried to hold it back but couldn’t. It was hurting too much.

“You’ll tell us where he is!” the Imperator bellowed, taking hold of her hair. She whimpered once, her expression crumbling.

“I am right here,” Urgan said.

He let the cloak fall off his shoulders and stepped into the light of the nearest torch, forcing his legs to walk with ease and confidence, even though the pain was making his vision blur. The guards weren’t rushing him yet. Everyone was shocked, and even the unsettled crowd fell into a tense silence.

This was his only chance to make his sacrifice worthwhile.

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