Page 35 of Her Orc Protector

The morning air outside was cool and damp, mist clinging to the cobblestones and softening the edges of buildings. Uldrekset a measured pace beside me, his long stride shortened to match mine. Hobbie had disappeared somewhere between our room and the front door—brownies rarely ventured out in public daylight, preferring to move through the hidden spaces of the world.

Ellie stirred against me, making a small sound of discomfort. I adjusted her wrap, making sure the poultice stayed in place, and pressed my cheek to her forehead. Still too warm.

"Not far," Uldrek said, his voice a low rumble beside me. "The ink shop is just past the market square."

"Ink shop?"

"Rowena's place. Kazrek's mate. He keeps a small healing space in the back."

We turned onto a wider street, the cobblestones giving way to smooth flagstones. A few early risers were already about—a baker's boy with a basket of fresh loaves, an elderly elf sweeping her doorstep, a pair of guardsmen making their morning rounds. They nodded respectfully to Uldrek as we passed, and I wondered anew at his place in this town. Not quite settled, he'd said, yet familiar enough to warrant such easy acknowledgment.

"How long have you known Kazrek?" I asked, as much to distract myself from worry as genuine curiosity.

Uldrek glanced down at me. "Since before the war. Fought together for a time."

We rounded a corner and found a small, tidy shop between a weaver's stall and a stonecutter's storefront. Its painted sign swung gently overhead: a dark quill and a silver leaf crossed above an inkwell. The windows were narrow but clean, their panes fogged slightly from the warmth within.

"Here," Uldrek said, moving ahead to open the door.

I followed him into a space that smelled of ink and lavender, warm wood and old paper. Shelves lined the walls, crowded with parchment rolls, pigment jars, and carefully labeled vials. Thelight was soft—lamplight filtered through amber glass—casting the whole room in a quiet, golden glow.

A woman looked up from where she was arranging a display of wax seals. She had coppery hair in a loose braid and freckles scattered across her pale skin. Her eyes brightened with recognition when she saw Uldrek.

"Well, look at this! The wanderer returns." Her smile was warm as she came around the counter. "And with company, I see."

"Rowena," Uldrek said, fondness in his voice. "Is Kazrek in?"

Her expression shifted when she noticed Ellie in my arms, concern immediately replacing her easy welcome. "He is. Just finishing with Mistress Twigg's joints." She gestured toward the back of the shop. "Come through. I'll let him know you're here."

We followed her past the counter and through a doorway hung with a deep blue curtain. The back room was larger than I'd expected, divided into several areas. One corner clearly served as a workshop, with a large table covered in bowls, pestles, and staining cloths. Another held simple bookshelves filled with ledgers and samples. And at the far end, partially screened by another curtain, was what appeared to be a small clinic—a padded table, cabinets of supplies, and a basin of clear water.

A gnome woman was sitting on the edge of the padded table, her legs dangling above the floor. She was elderly, her white hair tucked into a neat cap, and she rubbed what looked like a greenish salve into her knobby fingers while an orc—Kazrek, I presumed—gave her quiet instructions.

Rowena approached them, speaking too softly for me to hear. The orc healer looked up, his gaze finding Uldrek first, then Ellie and me. He nodded once, said something final to his patient, and stepped around the screen toward us.

Kazrek was shorter than Uldrek but broader, with the solid build of someone who relied on strength as much as skill. Hisgreen skin was a shade darker, and scars traced the left side of his face from temple to jaw. He wore a loose tunic and undyed linen trousers. His apron bore the permanent stains of a hundred salves and tinctures—work, not decoration.

"Wolfsbane," he greeted Uldrek, clasping his arm briefly. "Didn't expect to see you before the full moon." His eyes shifted to me, then to Ellie. "And who's this?"

"Issy," Uldrek said. "And her daughter, Ellie. She's fevered."

Kazrek's demeanor shifted immediately, healer's focus replacing casual greeting. "Bring her over," he said, gesturing to the screen. "Mistress Twigg is just leaving."

Indeed, the gnome woman was already gathering her things, muttering under her breath as she slid off the table. She gave Kazrek a sideways look as she passed. “Mind you, I’m not some brittle stick you can boss into idleness.”

“Twice daily, Twigg,” Kazrek replied, unbothered. “And no more whittling in the cold.”

She huffed. “Tch. I’ve outlasted three husbands and a lightning strike—I’ll survive a bit of frost.”

Then she spotted me, gave Ellie a once-over, and added a little grudgingly, “But looks like you’ve got more pressing cases. Go on, then.” With a nod to Uldrek and a grumble about “Orcs and their timing,” she hobbled toward the front of the shop.

As soon as she'd gone, Kazrek turned his full attention to us. "Let's have a look then."

I moved to the padded table, reluctant to let go of Ellie even for an examination. Kazrek seemed to understand because he didn't ask me to set her down; he just indicated that I should loosen her wrappings.

"How long has she been fevered?" he asked, his voice professional but gentle.

"Since yesterday afternoon," I said. "It started mild, but by nightfall..."

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