Page 54 of The Orc's Wife

“You are weak, Imperator. You let others do your dirty jobs, and how does it end? They told you I was dead, and you didn’t even think to check yourself. You’re getting lazy in your old age. It will be your downfall.”

The Imperator’s roar was so loud the orcs at his table covered their ears with their hands. He straightened to his full height, tall, strong, formidable. No one would think him weak and old in that moment.

And yet, Urgan knew he had only seconds to convince the Imp he should duel him instead of ordering his guards to kill him. If they converged on him now, he would be dead, and Una with him. If the Imp dueled him, Una would have time to run.

“Yes, very impressive. Pity now you’ll sit back on your fat bottom and just watch as others fight your battles.”

The Imperator stepped away from the table and faced Urgan.

“Very well,” he sneered. “I challenge you to a duel.”

Chapter 18

Una

“No!”

I tore away from Ragan’s grip, which had gone slack as he’d watched Urgan mouth off to the Imperator. What could I do? What could I…?

“No!” I shouted, remembering a dueling rule Urgan had told me when he was teaching me about orc culture. It seemed like ages ago. “I am your mate! I have a right to duel in your place!”

Urgan trained his eyes on me, and they were cold and filled with anger. I recoiled. Ever since I learned he had rejected me to save me, I had believed that he truly loved me. But in that moment, I doubted it.

“I repudiated you. You’re not my mate. Get out of my sight, woman.”

I gaped at him, my mouth open… until I saw it. A softening around his eyes, the tiniest drawing up of his brow. He was saving me again. And I couldn’t let him.

“No! No, you mustn’t…”

“Silence!” the Imperator roared, among teeters and laughs of the audience. I realized the gathered orcs were laughing at me. It was preposterous that I wanted to fight for Urgan. A human woman fighting a grown orc. Laughable.

“She is no longer his family, but I am,” came a strong, fearless voice from the crowd. A moment later, Oriana stepped out.

The Imperator was getting ready to roar again, and Urgan didn’t speak. I could see he was working hard to contain the trembling of his body, to hold back the wince of pain. He was in no state to duel. If he fought now, he would die.

“Or are you afraid of fighting with a human?” Oriana taunted, looking at the Imperator with brazen scorn. “You’d rather fight Urgan, whom you have weakened with torture, than a healthy human, is that it? Are you such a coward?”

The crowd was deadly silent, and in the silence, I could almost hear the Imperator’s wrath boil over. His eyes filled with a red mist. I had never seen this, only heard about it. He was going berserk.

“You can take his place. I’ll fight you,” he said. His voice was quiet, but it carried over the crowd.

I rushed to Urgan’s side, holding back tears.

“Run,” he said, his voice a gasp of pain. “While they are occupied. Don’t let her sacrifice go to waste.”

But Ragan was walking to us, two guards with him. Soon, his heavy paw tightened on my shoulder. He was swaying, and his grip wasn’t as hard as before, but he was still standing upright.

The poison was too slow to work. I covered my mouth with my hand to force the sobs that were ready to spill back in my throat. I wouldn’t cry for Oriana while she was still alive. I wouldn’t.

I found Urgan’s warm hand, and he squeezed my hand, his touch feeble, tremors going through him.

I wouldn’t cry.

The Imperator was looking down at Oriana, who had sauntered into the ring of cleared space that had quickly appeared among the tables as the crowd moved to the sides to watch. She threw off her servant’s disguise, revealing her leather clothes.

Of course she would have them underneath.

I would have grinned, but I was too focused on looking at her skin, swarthy and wrinkled. Her hands, which had dark spots on them. Her silver hair in a long braid, which she now gripped in one hand and hacked off with her short sword.

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