Page 91 of The Orc's Thief
Arlon lets out a soft chuckle. “Aye, but we won’t have to cross them. The border of the kingdom is close by, and the fortress is wedged in one of the valleys that cut through the mountains. It’s never been conquered. At least, that’s the story we were told when I was young.”
I turn to him, my belly squirming with anxiety. “What’s beyond them? Have you ever been there?”
The mountains are so tall, it’s almost impossible to imagine. Perhaps they’re the end of the world, a natural edge to all life.
“More land,” he says with a shrug. “I think King Trak sent scouts to scale the passes farther east, but they returned without success. The glaciers are too treacherous to climb, with deep ice crevasses waiting to swallow you up. The king probably figured that if our people couldn’t cross the mountains, no one else could, either.”
I shiver at the thought. “Well, I hope we won’t have to travel that far to find Lindie.”
“I can’t imagine where else the Ravens could be going but the Stonefrost Fortress,” he says, nudging Pip onward. “If that’s the case, they’ll be harder to reach than even those mountains.”
Clover’s hooves thud over the peaty ground as I bring her alongside his horses.
“What do you mean? I thought we’d ask around, see if anyone knows anything…” I duck under a branch that would have smacked me in the face, then focus on Arlon again. “If the villages beyond the border are mostly settled by orcs, the Ravens will stand out there just as much as you did in the human villages.”
Arlon keeps his gaze on the hills ahead, as if gauging the best path forward. “You’re imagining a human kingdom. There are no villages left in the borderlands. The kingdom’s been at war for the past several decades, and everything out here has been razed to the ground.” He points to where a valley cuts through the sheer wall of the mountains. “These forests are all that’s left. All the settlements have been moved beyond the great ramparts.”
“That sounds ominous,” I remark.
We wind around a cluster of boulders, but on closer look, they turn out to be abandoned houses, reduced to rubble. A small village, perhaps, or a once-abundant household. My heartsqueezes at the sight. The people who lived here are long gone, and only traces of their lives remain.
“Itisominous,” Arlon mutters, riding closer to me. “The valley is closed up with a series of stone walls, each twenty feet thick and just as high. No army has ever breached all of them. They break well before that, and the valley is easily defensible because of it. Once the clan holed up behind those walls, no one could reach them.”
“But they conquered other clans’ territories, no?” I think of everything he’s told me. “Are you saying they left those empty of people?”
He shakes his head, his long braid moving on his back. “I don’t know. I only ever traveled through these parts once, on our trip to Bellhaven.”
I gaze up at the mountains, wishing we knew more about the situation we’re walking into. But Lindie and the entire caravan of people from Ultrup passed through here safely—or so I hope, at least, given that we’ve found no signs of fighting yet. They’ve simply been one step ahead of us this time, and I can’t help but think that’s strange. How have they managed to climb those hills so quickly if their horses are pulling heavy wagons?
Since this morning, the land has been changing steadily, the wide-open plains giving way to gentle, rolling foothills. Large swaths of new forest line both sides of the road, likely old fields slowly reclaimed by nature.
When Arlon and I get stuck in the brambles for a fourth time, we give up on following alternative paths and take our chances on the main road. We ride more slowly, and Arlon dismounts to scout ahead on several occasions while I wait with the horses, anxious for his return. Every time he reappears, a relieved smile on his handsome face, my own relief deepens—he’s risking his head for me.
We stop by a stream in the early afternoon to water and rest the horses. Arlon leads them to the water while I stretch out my legs, groaning at the ache in my ass. He grins and sits behind me to rub my back, his strong fingers digging into my muscles.
“Ohh.” I lean forward on my knees and relax under his care. “This feels amazing.”
“I could rub some of that ointment on your back tonight,” he murmurs as he moves lower, kneading and stroking. “It’ll help more than anything I can do.”
I turn my head to look at him over my shoulder. “You’re doing a lot. This-this is great.”
I want to tell him how much this means to me, to be taken care of like this. Even though we haven’t spent more than two nights in the same place, we’ve fallen into a routine, both of us contributing to make our days less difficult. It’s not just that we’ve grown closer as lovers, but as partners too, and I’ve come to rely on his steady character more than I’d care to admit.
But I did admit it, only Arlon doesn’t know it yet.
I bite the inside of my cheek, holding back the urge to ask him to reach into his jacket pocket for the letter I slipped in there this morning. I wrote it before he woke, using his own paper and ink, planning to give it to him when he woke up. But then he startled me, I snapped at him, and the whole plan unraveled. When he returned from washing, I didn’t have the courage to hand it over, so I tucked it somewhere he’ll find it eventually and read what I spilled onto paper.
The thought is terrifying, so I jump up before Arlon can notice the shift in my scent and ask what’s wrong. Instead, I busy myself with our late lunch, pulling the slightly stale bread from the saddlebags.
“If we don’t find the caravan tonight, you might have to hunt,” I tell Arlon as I hand him his share of the food. “Will that be a problem?”
He squints into the dense underbrush. “I’ve seen plenty of tracks, so finding game won’t be an issue.” He blinks, then turns to me with a grimace. “I’m more worried about lighting a fire out in the open. At night, we’d be visible from a distance, even if we hid in a hollow. Unless we find good shelter, it’ll be too dangerous to risk it.”
A shiver runs through me at this. “I didn’t think of that. I’m beginning to realize I’m a city dweller through and through. I don’t know how to survive in the wild.”
“I’ll teach you what you need to know,” he says, voice teasing. “We’ll start with the bow. You’re small and weak, so you need a long-range weapon to bring down your enemies.”
I jab my elbow into his ribs. “Hey, now. I got the drop on you, didn’t I?”
