Page 5 of Promised To the Orc
Pulling the weapon from the forge, I feel a rush of absolute excitement as I hold it before me. I heated it four times in the flame and is ready to be cooled in the salted water. A long time ago, Beyri mentioned that she’d put powdered crystal gebzyte in the water and mixed it with salt from the ancient seabed and used it to cool an orichalcum knife. The result was a weapon that produced purple-blue flame from its tip.
Gebzyte crystals are extremely rare, but she had a tiny stash of powder left in her supply. Just enough to bathe Tor’s sword. Tor would be grown now, of course. Tall and powerful like his brethren. What would he look like with such a powerful weapon slung over his back and his thick, dark hair falling around shoulders?
My arms ache from the weight of the sword, but it’s temporary. The metal will lose some of its weight and become the sleek, easy to handle, deadly weapon it’s intended to be once it’s cured.
The powdered gebzyte sparkles on top of the water and I slice through it, driving the sword inside the pool all the way to my elbow. It hisses and bubbles around me; the water growing so hot I know it will scald my sensitive skin. The blisters will be worth it. Forcing myself to hold, I keep the blade submerged for several long beats of my heart and then slowly withdraw it.
“It’s a beauty.”
Conna, a human from the village, comes toward me with a small bundle in her hands. “Is that sword for the king?”
She sets down what she’s holding and looks at me with hands on her hips. Conna likes to boast that she was the oldest member of the science team to come through the rift at fifty, but was still energetic enough to keep up with people half her age. She is still sparkling and full of energy and is one of the few people I have allowed to get close to me.
Since my father died, I’ve had little desire to form close bonds with other humans or orcs. Beyri took me in as her own after we arrived in Ritka, and she was the only companion I needed. A gruff, old orc woman, Beyri always treated me with respect and dignity, especially when I showed talent at working the forge.
Conna likes to re-create bread and things called pastries from Earth using flours made from grains collected in the orc village. While I have nothing to compare them to, I think her creations are delicious. The best part of my day is when she brings me something warm from her stone oven.
“It’s not for the king,” I say as I critique my handiwork. Turning it this way and that, I can’t keep the smile from my face at the perfection of the blade. I’d originally intended to stamp a design into the metal but decided against it. Its beautiful, glassy, golden surface is unmarked and so stunning it takes my breath away.
I don’t think I’ve ever created something so beautiful.
She stands beside me and nods. “That is stunning. But I must ask, do you have something prepared for the king?”
“Yes.”
Something in her tone catches my attention. I’d been so busy with the sword; I hadn’t noticed at first. Holding its easy weight between my hands, I turned to look at her. “Why?”
Conna’s lips flatten and discomfort shows on her face. “The king has sent an escort to retrieve you. He’s requesting your presence for the Great Feast.”
Well, there goes my decision on whether to attend. How can I be sure the escort he sent won’t kill me en route and steal my weapons?
She looks at me with great concern, as if she’s thinking the same, then shakes her head. “I don’t like this, Alta. I think you should ask an orc warrior from our village to accompany you.”
“I can’t put anyone in danger because of me. Not after they’ve offered us refuge.”
“Jeluca is speaking to them now. I’m sure she’ll give you her impression on whether it’s safe for you to travel with these escorts are not. Perhaps she will send some of her own men, just in case.”
I appreciate the older woman’s concern. To be honest, I am afraid. It’s safe and comfortable here and I don’t want to leave. If I hadn’t made a set of orichalcum armor for Jeluca’s grandson, he would have never bragged about it while drinking ale with some of the king’s men, and I wouldn’t be in this position now.
“That would make me feel better,” I say, while setting the sword down. I’m almost afraid to walk away from it, as if it will disappear while my attention is elsewhere. Going to the hand carved wooden box that holds the king’s throwing knives, I retrieve it and hand it to Conna. She opens the lid and peers at the weapons. I have stamped each blade with an ancient orc pattern I found in one of Beyri’s notebooks. It took nearly a month to hand stamp each blade.
“Do you think these will suit the king?”
Despite being eighty-five years old, Conna’s eyes are clear and bright and show the emotions playing inside her. She’s scared on my behalf but satisfied with the weaponry. “Yes. These are beautifully done, Alta.”
“Thank you. There also extremely sharp and are as useful for eviscerating as they are for throwing. I’ll use them on my way to the palace if I must, and then I will hand the king his bloody knives in this very box.”
Big talk for someone who’s never had to fight hand to hand combat for real. I’ve practiced many times with the orcs in the practice ring, but I’ve never had to defend myself… Or to kill.
“I’ve heard the new king is reasonable for an orc in such power. Perhaps you can make him a proposition that will ensure your safety. Give him a reasonnotto kill you.”
Taking her hand, I squeeze, needing reassurance as much as she does.
“Don’t worry. I have a plan.”
Chapter Two
Myorcescortsmightbe massive, but I catch them looking twice at the amount of weapons on my body.
