Page 3 of The Widow and the Orcs

Hervoice had dropped, her eyes uncertainly searchingLouisa’sface, andLouisabit back another sigh.SheknewElisehad been a firsthand witness to that entire situation betweenJuleand the orcs, which had begun with a deadly, terrifying orc raid onJule’shousehold — but it had also all happened well before the peace-treaty, when the orcs and humans had still been at war.Andsince then,Louisahadn’t heard a single reliable account of an orc raid anywhere in the realm — and instead, she’d heard multiple astonishing tales of orcs helping humans, just like they were helping her.Doingodd jobs, clearing roads and building bridges, giving food to people who needed it.

Andwithout that food, how wouldLouisakeep feeding her household?Gods, what was she supposed to do?

“Look,Elise, of courseIunderstand if you aren’t comfortable with the orcs being nearby,”Louisafinally replied, her voice wooden. “Soif you’d rather start looking for other employment, please be assured thatIwill support you without qualification, and give you as many glowing references as you need.I’lldo everythingIcan to ensure you and the children are —”

“No, ma’am!”Eliseinterrupted, her eyes a little wild, now. “That’snot at all whatImeant —Iwouldn’t like another post at all!You’vebeen so generous, andI’mvery, very happy here!”

Louisa’sshoulders sagged, the relief studding through her chest, and she gaveElisea wan smile. “I’mglad to hear it,” she replied, “but you don’t owe me anything,Elise.Especiallywith your pay being late this month.Again.”

ButEliserapidly shook her head, flapping her flour-covered hands. “Weunderstand, ma’am!” she said. “Weknow times haven’t been easy for anyone lately.Andthe children are so happy here, and you give them so much freedom — and me, too.We’dbe so upset to leave here,please.”

Louisa’sshoulders sagged lower, her breath exhaling. “Thenof course you’ll stay as long as you like,” she said, as firmly as she could. “AndI’mgoing to just — head to bed early, and give this more thought.I’llsee you in the morning, then?”

Elisewarily nodded, andLouisaturned around, and trudged up the stairs toward her bedroom, high up in the attic garret.Whereshe’d always felt safest, alone in the peace and quiet, and as far away as possible from the likes ofRikard.

Butdamn it, maybe she would soon lose this, too.She’dalready sold off so much — including her own heavily mortgaged house in the nearby town ofDusbury, and most of her horses, and all her fine clothes and jewels.She’dalso cut costs wherever she could, and she’d pensioned off multiple staff.Leavingher only withElise, her elderly housekeeperGladys, and her capable, long-serving head groomJoan.AndthoughJoandid her best to help out with the grounds and gardens, too, it was just too much for one person to handle — soLouisahad begun taking on much of the manual outdoor labour herself.Weeding, gardening, making repairs, feeding the chickens, fetching eggs, even hunting small game.

Butit wasn’t enough.Notnearly enough.Thelarder was bare.Theroot cellar was empty.Thedebts were still crushing, the payments never-ending.Andwhat wasLouisasupposed to do, she would not sell her freedom, she would not marryRikard, notever—

Shestrode into her dark bedroom without looking, yanking off her belt and riding dress, hurling them onto a chair.Andthen she lurched to the dressing table, feeling for the lamp in the dark, lighting it with a familiar flick of her fingers.

Butin the lamp’s sudden light, she caught sight of her own pale face, frowning back toward her in the large looking-glass.Showingin stark relief the heavy furrow between her brows, the dark shadows beneath her eyes, the deepening lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth.Andeven the silver hairs sprouting from her widow’s peak seemed more plentiful than usual, silently shouting at her of being —Rikard’sfoul voice loomed in her thoughts —past her marrying prime.

Louisashook her head, squeezed her eyes shut, gritted her teeth tight.No.No.Shewould never marry again.Shewas living her life on her own terms, and she was going to keep trying, find a way through this…

Buthow?Damnit, how?Howthe hell was she supposed to survive, for possibly another forty whole years?Howcould she take care of her staff, those children, herself?Withno coin, no food, andRikardbreathing down her neck?Andnow she’d made it so much worse by threatening him with the orcs, and now she had to find a way to keep the orcs off his property, and —

Aprickle.Something— wrong.Creepingup her spine, wrapping cold fingers around her chest.Something—behindher, oh hell, andLouisawhipped around so fast the room spun, her eyes searching, finding — finding —

Theorc.

3

Therewas an orc.Here.InLouisa’sbedroom.

Hewas sprawled sideways on the chair beside her writing desk, and his tall, scarred body was leaning back against the wall, his booted foot propped on the desk’s edge.Andhe was —half-dressed, wearing only a ratty-looking pair of grey trousers, with a gleaming steel scimitar hanging from his belt.Andhis hair was bound up in a messy knot on his head, and there were twodaggersstabbed through the knot, and…

Andhe’d been…waitingforLouisa.Waiting, and watching her, with cool, assessing black eyes.Eyesthat gazed out of a lean, grey, sharp-looking face, framed with tall, pointed ears.Andhis supple quirking mouth wassmirkingat her, and what — what —

“Whatthe hell,”Louisacroaked, as she fumbled for her abandoned clothes, and somehow found the knife again, its hilt mercifully solid in her fingers. “Thisis — this is a private bedroom, orc!”

Shebrandished the knife toward him, and found — to her ever-increasing alarm — that he didn’t seem even slightly disconcerted.Instead, his smirk only twitched higher, as his glittering eyes flicked down her form, and then back up again.

Andwait, curse it,Louisawas now wearing only a thin, skimpy shift, and her chagrined glance downwards found it also stained, with multiple holes, as well.Andit stretched far too tight across her hips and breasts, showing every lump and scar, every single imperfection, for this invading orc’s perusal.

Andthe orc was perusing, damn him.Hisglinting eyes slowly, leisurely sweeping downLouisa’sbody, and back up again.Lingeringon her groin, her hips, her breasts, her neck, before flicking down to — the knife, now visibly shaking in her outstretched hand.

“Oughtnot to hold your blade out thus, woman,” he said, in a husky, accented voice, as his own hand — with its long black claws — rose to his hair, and snapped out one of the daggers from his topknot. “Oughtto keep it tight and close.Bettermeets any attack from the side, ach?Andguards your front, also.”

Heeven demonstrated as he spoke, first holding out his own dagger just the wayLouisahad, and then drawing it in closer to his bare chest.Andshe could easily see his point, curse him, and she instinctively drew back her own knife, matching his pose, which did feel better, and —

Shewhipped her head back and forth, and thrust the knife down to her side.Whatthe hell.Whatthehell.

“Idid not invite you here, orc,” she snapped, as steadily as she could. “Thisismybedroom!”

Theorc gave a smooth, rolling shrug of his shoulder, and flipped his dagger in his fingers. “No, is it?” he said coolly. “Ihave become lost, then, forIthought this was a kitchen.Ormayhap a root cellar.”

Louisa’sdisbelief surged, together with a sudden, sharp dislike.Thistrespassing orc was mocking her?Tauntingher, here, in her own damned bedroom?

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