I jut my chin out stubbornly. “I sure did and would do it again in a heartbeat. Orgath here is far more honorable, kinder, and a better lover than Travis ever was.”
Orgath makes a noise behind me that is caught somewhere between a jealous growl and a snort of laughter. His large hand squeezes my hip and I feel him nuzzle my neck. My mother watches, still looking a bit pale, but my dad manages a shaky smile.
“It’s okay, Lucy,” he murmurs to my mom. “It is nice to meet you… ah… Orgath. Welcome to the family,” he says.
My whole family jumps back when Orgath bares his tusks in a pleased smile. “It is a pleasure to meet Sammi’s human family at last. These behind me, with the exception of the troll, are my clan-kin.”
“Troll…” Momma says weakly, her hand clutched firmly at her breast. Dad adjusts his glasses and takes a nervous look at the lot of them but keeps his smile politely plastered on his face. Can always count on Dad to play the peacekeeper.
Cavek, for his part, grins at Momma and sweeps an elegant bow her way. “It is a pleasure to meet you, dear lady. Certainly, human women are fairer far more than even elves to see such beauty in mother and daughter alike.”
Momma blushes and lets out a small giggle, allowing Dad to relax significantly, though I did catch him frowning for a split second at the flirtatious troll.
“Oh, oh! Yes, welcome to you too. Please, why don’t you come inside?” He helps Momma stand and braces her weight slightly as they walk together back into the house. Orgath dismounts and pulls me from Ethiel’s back, ordering our delfass to go lie in the shade. Ethiel flicks his tail and wanders over to Momma’s prized lilac bush, curling under it. The other delfass follow him as the orcs dismount, and I silently hope that the large felines don’t damage the bush, else I will never hear the end of it.
All of my companions from Ov’Gorg look around with wide eyes as they enter my parents’ house. I’m sure it looks quite alien to them, with the electric lights, thick carpeting, and state of the art electronics. Bodi leans over to peer at the television with an old rerun of Star Trek: Next Generation playing on it. His eyes narrow on Commander Worf speculatively.
“What is this strange magic box, and these strange beings the likes of which I have never seen?” he growled, looking at the back of the screen, trying to determine the source of the image. “Though this male seems to be strong and certain as any orc. I approve.”
“It’s a television. Be careful not to damage it. It’s not magic but uses technology to play recorded images on a screen for us to watch. That’s not real—it’s an actor wearing makeup. He’s playing the part of a fictional species called Klingon.”
“Ah, I understand this concept. We have many plays during the festivals,” he says with a slow nod of his head. “A clever use of your technology to bring it into your home to enjoy at any time.”
Orgath snorts as the orcs crowd around the set. Cavek, meanwhile, proceeds to poke at the upholstered loveseat before delicately lowering himself onto it. With a surprised sound, he shifts and leans back comfortably. My mate watches him for a moment before turning his attention back to me. I clear my throat, drawing ten sets of eyes from the television.
“Guys, all weapons need to be stowed in the shoe crates by the door. I don’t think Momma will appreciate you walking around here armed to the teeth.”
As one, they all grimace but move to do as I ask.
I eye Orgath. “You too, my love.”
For a moment he looks like he is about to argue, but then stalks off with an irritated grunt to store all his knives and his prized battleax in one of several crates. I blow out a breath and turn a bright smile on my mother.
“So I couldn’t help but notice that people aren’t exactly running for the hills screaming at seeing orcs. What gives?”
Jake laughs from a stool beside the breakfast bar. “Oh, you missed out on the epic stuff that went down! About two weeks ago, all TV sets went haywire and suddenly we’re all watching this show—a projection spell they said—that addresses all of humanity. They told us that they’re joining our realms back together as nature intended.
“They also said that any hostilities will be met with ‘unequivocal force.’ Seeing all your orcs just probably made that much more real. I’ll bet my entire week of wages that your guys will show up on the news tonight. As it stands right now, no one’s going to lift a finger against anyone coming through the portals. Even the president has come on asking all humans to stand down and treat our neighbors respectfully.”
“That jackass? He’d be the last one I would have suspected to say that.”
“Yep.”
An uneasy feeling settled into the pit of my stomach. It seems like the fae court wasted no time communicating with Ov’Ge, and we only found out well after the fact. Worse, it’s probably only a matter of time before someone tries something completely hairbrained.
But for the time being, my guy will be safe here, and that was my biggest concern. No one’s going anywhere without me or one of my family members close by, though. A lone orc or troll may be too tempting of a target.
“Well, as long as no one goes anywhere by themselves and doesn’t tempt anyone to try something stupid, I think we will be okay. We’ll just take reasonable precautions. Orc-human buddy teams, maybe.” I say this last part mostly for Orgath’s benefit.
Orgath settles his weight against the counter and frowns. “We will remain on our guard. As long as humans are reasonable, we won’t have to defend ourselves. But we will not hesitate to do so if they attack us.”
Momma blanches and I rush to change the subject.
“Well now that it’s settled—what’s for dinner?”
“Trust you to show up in time for Sunday dinner,” Jake chortles.
Momma purses her lips and looks at her unexpected house guests critically. “David,” she says to Dad, “you’re going to have to go to the store and get four more boxes of noodles and five cans of tomato sauce, I think. I am going to break out every pan I have and see if we can feed this horde.”
“Mom, you’re picking up the lingo!” Jake praises, and she rolls her eyes at him.
Momma really can be a good sport when she chooses to be. Right up until the point she levels Orgath with a suspicious glare and begins to grill him.
“So, Orgath, tell me about what you do—”
I turn pleading eyes to my father.
I could kiss Dad when he clears his throat and says, “Orgath, perhaps you might like to come to the grocery store with me.”
***
Orgath
I am trying to ignore the small, furry creature that is bouncing around yapping at me. The noise reminds me of a high-pitched mimicry of the elvish hounds, but its size makes it unlikely that they are at all related. Despite its ridiculous size, it seems to think itself some kind of fierce beast.
Erra stares at it and mutters, “Do you think they raise those beasts for eating?”
I grimace. I certainly hope not. It doesn’t look appetizing, but you never know with humans.
I am distracted from my speculation over the tiny snapping monstrosity when Sammi’s mother asks me a question. I frown. What does she mean, what do I do? I don’t understand what exactly she wants to know. I breathe, I fight, I eat…
My mate turns and is making a soft pleading expression to her sire, who immediately offers me the opportunity to retreat. Grateful, I take it.
“Yes, I would like to see this… grocery store?”
Sammi leans in and says in a low voice, “It’s the human equivalent of a market.”
“Ah. Yes, your market. I wouldn’t mind seeing a human market.”
My mate’s mother, Lucy, picks up the foul little beast and makes soft noises at it, which makes the animal’s long skinny tongue start to swipe out at her face. I curl my lip in distaste. I certainly hope that Sammi doesn’t intend to bring any such creature into our home.
The market is of the like I have never seen. Erra ele
cted to come with us and let the males surround the television thing and watch a sporting event called football, according to Sammi’s older brother who’d recently arrived before we departed. She lingered at my side looking upon all the variance of produce with awe.
“And you can get any of this at any time of the year, from all of your world?” she asks again, uncertain if the male is mocking her ignorance.
David nods as he focuses on a crudely scrawled list in his hand. “Yes, it can vary sometimes throughout the year, but most things we can get imported from somewhere.”
“Such a marvel! Perhaps we will do well trading with the humans,” she spoke just loud enough for me to hear. I nod thoughtfully. Certainly, our people would enjoy such wide variety unlike anything we’d seen before. The human world has come far in such trades through Ov’Ge.
It seems like an entire market—like that of our village—is squeezed into one large building rather than enjoying the sales of numerous vendors. I am not sure how I like this. It doesn’t seem to give much opportunity for their community to share in the wealth.
I look at hundreds of loaves of bread set out in the bakery as we pass and also find myself bothered at this sight. How can the people of this large village possibly eat all that bread before it wastes? David grabs a long narrow loaf from a bin, and for the first time I can appreciate the frustration that my Sammi must have felt. The talismans provided by Cavek allow us to understand and speak the standard language of any human we come into contact with, but they do nothing for any ability to read said language.
I sigh and patiently follow behind David as he continues to throw items into the strange metal cart that he pushes. I do not recognize any of these things. I come to a standstill, however, when he pulls up in front of a section of clear wrapped meat. He pulls out several packages of ground meat, but I am distracted by the numerous packages sitting out on a shelf that blows cold air over them.
“What is this?”
“Uh, the meat section,” he says with confusion.
“Why is all of this meat just sitting here? Where is your butcher? I would have words with him for such wastefulness.”
He lets out a short, nervous laugh. “We don’t have a butcher. All of this meat is shipped to us from a large production facility where they butcher the animals.”
My mouth drops open in surprise. “How many animals are slaughtered for this display?”
He shrugs uncomfortably. “Maybe hundreds.”
I pinch my lips together and exchange a look with Erra, who is frowning with disapproval.
“Such waste is not done among orcs,” she says stiffly. “Our butcher takes orders the day before from our villagers and then allots how many beasts he needs to fill the orders. We would never kill so many of our animals.” She looks around slowly. “I like many of these conveniences you have, but it seems to me that Orgath is correct. Humans tend toward excessive wastefulness. A pity.”
David flushes a little but proceeds to go into a lengthy discourse on modern meat curing and freezing methods. It is surprisingly informative. As he concludes, he rubs at the back of his neck and asks, “Do orcs have any problem with beer?”
Erra’s somber expression cracks with a broad smile. “Now that is a passion that any orc will be pleased to share.”
He relaxes and with a little grin gestures for us to follow him as he pays for the foodstuffs. Afterward, he leads us into another adjacent building where they sold all manner of bottles and strange metal cans chilled. He grabs a large box of these cans.
“This is how we package most of our beer.”
I stare at it. It seems a mighty small portion. I could probably drink the entire contents of one of these metal vessels in one mighty swallow. Erra points to a tall reddish bottle.
“What is that.”
David raises his eyebrows and peers at the bottle she is indicating. “Uh, looks like pink champagne.”
“What is that?”
“Champagne is sort of like wine with fizzy bubbles. I believe this kind is supposed to be sweet.”
“Intriguing. I will acquire this,” she digs into her coin pouch and withdraws a silver coin. “Is this enough in exchange?”
David flushes and looks at the young male tending behind the counter who is staring with rapt fascination at Erra, specifically looking downward toward her chest. I growl threateningly; after all she is my cousin, and her mate is not there to voice his displeasure. The male’s eyes jerk over to me and he pales. Erra huffs in exasperation.
“Erm, no problem, Erra. I’ll cover it,” David says weakly and adds the bottle to our collection along with a bottle of something he calls Johnny Walker Red Label, a whiskey, whatever that is. Erra gifts him her most gracious smile, but he seems to take a few steps back out of discomfort.
Humans are odd creatures. I am glad I am so fortunate in my mate.
Chapter 21
Orgath
Sammi is in the kitchen helping her mother, and although they seem to be arguing good-naturedly, there are unfamiliar smells wafting from their strange stove. Erra is in there as well, mostly because she is fascinated with their cooking appliances.
I retreat to the living room, because with an orc and two humans, there is just not enough room left for anyone else in that small space. The males are no longer watching the football event. Jake has put in a movie called The Lord of the Rings, and the orcs are collectively jeering at the human concept of orcs.
Naturally, the elves are presented as beautiful creatures, and unlike real elves these seem to possess little guile and lack a predatory nature. Yet orcs are twisted creatures made by magic, and at heart are evil beasts. The whole thing makes me sneer in disgust.
Jake, noticing the mounting discontent, quickly switches out the movie for one he calls World of Warcraft. These orcs are more palatable, although not by much. Still, it gave us some sort of redeeming qualities. All the same, the bias against orcs as savage brutes is not lost upon any of us. The only good thing is that humans at least have some idea of our superior strength and capability in battle.
At some point I notice that Cavek is no longer with us. I look in the few rooms I would suspect him to be holed up in before approaching the kitchen.
“Delfass-ki, have you seen Cavek?”
Sammi looks up from a pot which she is stirring something red with a long spoon and frowns. “I don’t know. Momma, have you seen Cavek?” she calls across the kitchen.
Lucy turns around holding a pot with many holes through which water is straining. She purses her lips. “Which one is Cavek?”
“Troll: green skin, purple hair and eyes, sharp scary teeth,” my mate clarifies.
“Oh yes, I believe he went out to the garage with Jake. Something about looking at Jake’s little studio he’s set up in there. Jake runs a blog and has been working on some project or another since those fae made contact.”
I grunt in appreciation and make it to the door, my hand closing around the knob when I hear a loud commotion that sends me rushing in, with Uagoral at the ready. I can hear my brethren just behind me, grabbing their weapons as we all dart outside, a good dozen weapons drawn and ready for battle, and a great many knives strapped on for backup.
I don’t immediately see the source of the noise, but I do hear an amused snarl and a high-pitched human shriek.
“Hold him!” Jake shouts excitedly. “Wait, let me get a better angle for this. This is awesome.”
I round the corner of the small forebuilding—what I assume is what the humans call a garage—and am greeted with the sight of the tall troll holding a human upside down by his leg. I wrinkle my nose at the stench of urine, and a wet stain has spread over the male’s crotch. The male has a fair amount of lean muscle on him, but he is not particularly impressive, especially not shrieking and squealing as he is.
“Travis! What the hell are you doing here?” Sammi yells from behind me.
I narrow my eyes, my nostrils flaring as a red tide of anger sweeps
over me. So this pitiful male is Travis? I curl my lip into a sneer as I look him over. He doesn’t even compare to the strength and discipline of an orc. An orc would never piss themselves in encountering a hostile opponent.
“Sammi? Thank the gods you’re alive! I’ve been so worried,” he says, a wide smile curving his mouth as twin indentions appear on his cheeks. I immediately growl possessively. This male thinks it is permissible to smile and speak to my mate as if nothing had happened?
“Don’t give me that, asshole,” she snaps, pushing her way in front of me. I bristle. I do not like my wife between me and anything that is even remotely threatening—even something as pitiful as this Travis.
“You ditched me for some bimbo. You didn’t even have the nerve to make sure I got home okay. You can go fuck yourself.”
“Now Sammi—”
“And you had the nerve to lie to my family! I was up there for four days and you never came once in all that time.”
He flushes… or maybe that is all the blood running to his head. It is difficult to ascertain. I very gently push my mate behind me and stomp up to him. Travis’ eyes widen so much that I think they might fall out of his head. Slowly, I lean down until my face is level with his, my nose wrinkling as I try not to breathe in his stench.
“This is the sort of male you found suitable?” I ask my wife, snorting at him in disgust. “He is a tiny and pitiful male, without even enough honor to see to your safety. Weak,” I sneer in the male’s face. “All the better that you have an orc chieftain for a mate, seeing what a sad excuse for a male you had before.”
Sammi chuckles and I bare my tusks in a chilling grin at this Travis. I set a thick finger between his eyes and shove lightly, making him swing slightly in Cavek’s grip. The troll laughs in delight. I hear a small gasp and note from the corner of my eye that Lucy, her fist pulled up to her mouth as she watches on wide-eyed, has joined us, accompanied by her mate.
“This is how it is, human. You will apologize to my wife and her mother, Lucy. Then, you will leave here. You will not return—you will not speak to my mate or her family. If I catch you near my mate again, I will personally break every major bone in your body. Do you understand?”
The Orc Wife Page 17
