Blood of the Orc Prince by Lionel Hart

4

Chapter Four

Taegan woke with a start while it was still dark. Zorvut must have gotten up to close the window and blow out the candles, and was now sleeping soundly next to him, one arm draped loosely around his waist. He gingerly pushed his arm away and sat up, glancing through the windowpane. The faintest hint of sunrise was peeking over the horizon.

He crept out of bed and lit a candle before dressing for the day. His hair was a mess; by the time he had brushed it out and tied it back, more light was coming through the window.

As the light began to just barely illuminate the room, he heard Zorvut stirring as he was packing his bag.

“Taegan?” he heard his voice come quietly. In the near-darkness, with sleep still tinging his voice, he sounded so vulnerable and soft, almost like a child.

“I’m here,” he answered quickly, and Zorvut sat up to look at him, a sleepy smile spreading across his face. The sheer bliss that came through the bond when their eyes met caused Taegan to stop and smile back. He had not expected such warmth first thing in the morning, but Zorvut’s still-waking heart must have been glad to see him. “Good morning, my love.”

“Good morning,” he answered, stretching. The beds creaked under his weight, and that seemed to snap him into a more alert state as he carefully got out of bed and stood. “You’re up early.”

“Well, we went to bed rather early as well,” he replied, nodding. “I’ve just started packing our things back up. I would have brought you breakfast, but it seems I wasn’t quiet enough.”

“That’s all right,” he answered. “I’ll start getting ready to go, and we can eat together.”

Taegan nodded and resumed packing. Zorvut dressed quietly, just in the light of the rising sun coming through the window and the faint flicker of the candle Taegan had lit. He meant to continue packing, but couldn’t help but watch the half-orc’s muscled form as he pulled off his sleeping shirt and dug through his pack for a clean one. He seemed to notice Taegan’s gaze, and looked back at him with an amused smirk. Taegan glanced away quickly with a flash of embarrassment, trying to return his focus to the task at hand. But soon they were both dressed and packed, and by the time the sun had fully risen and the sky had become a pale shade of blue, Zorvut was pulling back the bed he had pushed up next to the other and they left the room.

Down in the dining room of the inn, it was empty and quiet, save for the woman who had checked them in last night, greeting them with another smile.

“Early risers, I see,” Nessie chirped as they descended the stairs. “Me, too. Some breakfast before you’re back on the road?”

“Please,” Taegan answered, and Zorvut nodded in agreement. They were served a simple breakfast of bread, cured meats, and a dish of scrambled eggs mixed with a variety of vegetables that, though rather plain, was certainly serviceable. She offered them drinks as well; Zorvut took another ale, but remembering the vinegary wine from the night before, Taegan only asked for water.

“We do have tea if that might be more to your liking,” she said with a wink, and he chuckled.

“Tea, then,” he agreed, and it was brought to him.

As they ate there came the sound of another person descending the stairs, and after a moment the stable boy who had helped with their horses came stumbling down, yawning and scratching his belly underneath a rough woolen shirt. He gave a slight start as he noticed them, and hurried behind the bar with sudden purpose.

“Go on, go on,” the woman chided as he snatched a roll of bread from her grasp. “Be a dear and get our guests’ horses ready once you’ve had your breakfast.”

“Yes’m,” he said quickly even as he shoved the bread into his mouth and darted out the door with the lanky awkwardness only gangly teenagers could manage.

“So where are you two headed?” she asked idly as they watched him hurry out the door. “Not many elves and orcs getting along with things being what they are. No offense meant, of course, just that it must be important if you’re working together.”

“Well,” Zorvut said quickly, sensing the spike of nervous energy the question elicited in Taegan. “I’m a half-orc.”

“Oh, my apologies, then,” she said quickly, looking him up and down. “My, you’re one of the biggest half-orcs I’ve ever seen, then. Gods! What are you, seven feet?”

“That’s exactly how tall I am,” he replied with a grin, though there was some bitterness to it that only Taegan could feel. “If you’ll believe it, though, I’m usually head and shoulders shorter than most full orcs I’ve known.”

“Goodness!” she exclaimed, and the topic seemed to distract her enough from her original question that she did not pursue it. “We don’t get any full orcs around here, at least not on the road. That must be a fearsome sight, then, if they’re that much taller than you, sir.”

“Oh, yes,” Zorvut agreed, nodding. He regaled her with a story of an orc battle that Taegan was almost certain he was embellishing for dramatic effect, not that he could blame him for the effort. While he talked Taegan sipped his tea quietly—while he, of course, considered Zorvut to be quite charming, he had not seen him working so hard to be this overtly charismatic before. But the woman seemed rightly impressed, her eyes wide and focused on him, nodding along to the cadence of his tale.

“Well, by the gods, I hope you two stay safe out there, then,” she exclaimed as Zorvut seemed to wrap up the story. “I’ve never seen an orc raiding party this far south before, but there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there? And you, sir.” She met Taegan’s gaze, and he raised a surprised eyebrow at her. “I hope you take good care of this fellow. I know what the stereotypes are, so it’s good you’re able to see past it. He seems like a very capable and strong worker.”

Taegan gave a wry smile. If only she knew! “Yes, he is. I believe I was just telling your husband yesterday that my friend here has never let me down.” He did not need to look over at him to know Zorvut’s mouth had spread into a shy grin at that.

Their breakfast done, she took their dishes and wished them safe travels, and they made their way out to the stable. Taegan could already see Ember saddled up and tethered to one of several poles outside the stable, but the boy seemed to be struggling with Graksh’t. The massive horse was stamping the ground nervously as the boy, visibly just as anxious, struggled to get the saddle adjusted correctly over his impressive frame.

“Let me,” Zorvut said, and the boy jumped, noticing them. He took the saddle from the human’s smaller hands, and set to work easily getting the horse outfitted.

“My apologies, sir,” the boy said nervously, eyeing Zorvut up and down with no small measure of visible fear in his gaze. Taegan pursed his lips, watching silently. While the woman had been pleasant enough, he supposed not all humans would be as outwardly comfortable in Zorvut’s presence. Whether that was due to the boy’s youth or some silent prejudice, he could not say.

“Ready?” Zorvut asked, glancing over at Taegan and shaking him from his thoughts. He nodded, and mounted Ember as Zorvut got onto his own horse.

“Safe travels, sirs,” the boy said as they trotted out to the road, and Taegan gave him a curt nod of acknowledgement but did not respond. When they were a little ways down the road, Zorvut glanced back at him with a curious expression.

“You didn’t like that boy,” he remarked simply, and Taegan sniffed.

“He didn’t like you,” he said. To his surprise, Zorvut laughed aloud—just once, a sharp and bitter laugh, but a laugh all the same.

“He was a child,” he said with a shrug. “It is not surprising to me a child would be afraid of the unknown. You heard it from his mother, they’ve never seen full orcs. I doubt he’s seen many half-orcs either.”

Taegan scowled, but he couldn’t argue with that. “You are much more forgiving than I would be,” he replied, and Zorvut’s amused grin softened somewhat.

“Well, if I wasn’t, I would probably just be sad instead. So I’d rather forgive and forget,” he said with a shrug, and turned back to look toward the road ahead of them. Taegan glanced away but gave a relenting nod of agreement even though Zorvut could not see him.

Though they were out of the mountains, it was still a rocky, craggy trail through the last of the foothills. They would not see any more signs of civilization until reaching a farming village on the edge of the foothills at the end of the day. From what Taegan remembered of the map, they were around five days out from the port of Naimere where Tomlin Whitmore was rumored to have retired. They had already survived a week; he could manage another five days.

* * *

The remainder of their journey was largely uneventful, though they began to see signs of life more and more often along the road the further into Autreth they traveled. Though the first roadside inn had been quiet, the next farming village was a little more lively, and they began to pass people occasionally on the road to the next town, mostly merchants coming to trade their wares for food and sundry items. They were able to spend the night at inns for the next three days, which was a welcome respite as well.

Though they still occasionally received stares, for the most part, it seemed mostly unremarkable for an elf and a half-orc to be traveling together. For that cultural norm Taegan was thankful. Autreth had been claimed and reclaimed by most of the major nations in history, due to its central location and large land mass, and so it boasted a huge range of cultures and races within it. For the most part they seemed to live in harmony, and here at least it was a matter of rote normality for the races to intermingle. It was uncommon to see a half-orc, but not any more uncommon than any other half race, and they were mostly left alone as they traveled. The foothills gave way to slight valleys and grasslands, and they followed the main road for a few days before breaking off to a southern trail that would eventually lead them to Naimere.

When they left the main road, they passed fewer and fewer people on the trail once again. Where there had once been at least one or two other travelers passing by them every hour or so, it slowly dwindled down to just a few a day to nearly none at all. The foothills gave way to marshy grasslands, and on the fourth day they were hard-pressed to find a place to camp that wasn’t muddy and unpleasant, but eventually set their tent on a patch of grassy, mostly dry land a little ways off the trail. Taegan’s bedroll was still damp when he woke up the next day, though.

Now that they were out of the mountains and the landscape was much more flat, there was little of interest as they walked other than the new range of wildlife in the marshes and lagoons they passed, and Taegan spent most of the day keeping an eye out for small game, shooting down a few waterfowl and two rabbits. Zorvut did not seem interested in joining him; he seemed to be pulling his thoughts away from the bond for most of the day, but occasionally Taegan would feel faint tremors of anxiety coming from him. But even if he had not been able to feel it, the expression on his face when he thought Taegan wasn’t looking at him did just as well to reveal his thoughts.

It was understandable—he would be nervous, too, if he were just a day away from potentially meeting his birth father for the first time. He tried to project calmness and compassion through the bond, and Zorvut glanced back at him with a wry smile but did not respond.

Finding a place to camp was a struggle that night as well, with their best option being a small patch of less-muddy land surrounded by soggy grass.

“It’s the last night,” Taegan said with a sigh as they started to unload their gear. “There’ll be an inn tomorrow night. We can wash everything then.”

Zorvut gave a nod of agreement, but his gaze was distant as he started setting up the tent. Taegan tethered the horses to a tall bush—trees were becoming more few and far between here—and watched him quietly, holding their bedrolls in his arms. His movements were mechanical, tired, slow; his thoughts were clearly far from the task at hand. With a sigh, Taegan carefully set the bedrolls onto Ember’s back and came up behind him, placing a hand on the small of his back. Zorvut gave a slight start, and glanced down at him with a startled expression.

“Everything all right?” Zorvut asked quickly, clearly surprised. Taegan moved his hand in a slow circle, rubbing his back gently.

“I should be asking you that,” he said. “You’ve been on edge all day. Let me help you set this up.”

Zorvut sighed, glancing away with a hint of embarrassment in his face. “Okay,” he agreed, and Taegan helped him stretch the tent over the poles the half-orc had already set up. “I am feeling nervous,” he said slowly as they worked. “It’s just unsettling to think that by this time tomorrow… I don’t know. I’ll either know who my father is or we’ll be heading back already.”

Taegan nodded. “That’s understandable. In truth, I’m rather nervous about it too. But at least we’ll have some answers, either way.”

“I hope so,” he sighed, glancing away. “He might not even be here anymore, if he ever even was at all. It was only a rumor I had to go off of, after all.”

Taegan hesitated. The small part of him that wanted to go home more than anything else perked up at the thought, but the rest of him was ashamed for even feeling anything remotely like joy at that prospect. “Well, then we’ll just have to find the next rumor and follow that,” he said. Zorvut glanced at him with a wry expression, and Taegan knew immediately that he knew it was all bravado, but he seemed to appreciate the gesture anyway.

“You’re right,” he agreed with a nod. “Although maybe we could check back in with the king first.”

“Perhaps,” Taegan said, recognizing the peace offering, though he was not sure if the prospect of immediately setting back out on the road was much better. “I suppose it would depend on where the rumors lead us. But we don’t know either way yet, so no point in making any plans.”

“True,” Zorvut sighed, grimacing. “Though that’s harder said than done. I keep telling myself there’s no point in worrying about tomorrow for today, but…” He shrugged, turning his attention back to the nearly-finished tent. Taegan could all but feel his mind flitting from one thought to the next, but whatever he was ruminating over seemed to be too difficult to put into words.

“I know,” he said, more softly this time. “I wish I could make it easier. But if nothing else we will always have each other.”

Zorvut smiled at that, a more tender feeling coming through the bond now. “We will,” he agreed.

They finished setting up the tent, and Zorvut helped him unroll the sleeping bags and start a fire. They roasted the fowl and rabbits Taegan had felled, and Zorvut didn’t bring up his worries again.

In his own private thoughts, Taegan certainly understood Zorvut’s trepidation although perhaps for different reasons. This human who they believed to be Zorvut’s father was all but a mystery to him, yet they would approach him from a vulnerable position, asking him for help they did not even know if he could give. What if the man denied his paternity? What if he had no magical ability of his own, or proved to be a poor teacher if he did? A smaller part of Taegan worried what the man would think of him, the man married to his unknown son. Elves were known for fostering relationships between any combination of genders and much of the world would not blink an eye at two men together, might be taken aback at an elf and a half-orc as an unlikely couple but certainly would not protest—and yet there were always outliers, and there was no guarantee a human might understand or accept the marriage bonds of elves. All they really knew about this man was that he was a moderately successful bard, and had the fortitude to lay with an orc woman. Anything beyond that was conjecture. Maybe his adventurousness indicated an open-mindedness that would find nothing remarkable in their own relationship, but maybe not. Yet if Taegan ended up being the reason why Zorvut could not connect with his father, he wasn’t sure if he could live with the guilt that might bring.

But just as he had told Zorvut, there was no use in worrying himself over tomorrow’s mysteries for now. He forced his wandering thoughts back to the present, and leaned closer to his husband as they sat in front of the fire. Zorvut wrapped an arm around him, kissing his forehead softly. That was all he needed, tonight and any night. They would have each other, he told himself, and as long as they did, they could face anything that might come their way.