IT IS DARK WHEN I finally open my eyes.
Loud footsteps from below wake me from a dreamless sleep and I know Bazur is home. I stretch my stiff arms and rise from the bed. My stomach growls and I think this is the first time I’ve eagerly been awaiting a bowl of Bazur’s weak stew.
The stew smells better than it ever has; perhaps he finally took my suggestion to start seasoning it.
I take a blanket from the bed, wrap it around myself, and make my way down the ladder and into the warm kitchen. The light from the fireplace illuminates the space and my eyes catch on the baskets littering the kitchen table. Dozens of them heaped with meats and cheeses, fruits and vegetables, things I haven’t seen in weeks.
“Where did all of this come from?” I ask. Bazur spins around from the stove, his eyes widening. We stare at each other for a moment. The weight of his stare has my heart beating faster in my chest. I break it and walk over to the table and sift through a basket of apples. Their red and green skin is waxy and smooth.
“They’re for you.” My eyes lift to him once more. “I heard what you did for Jessica and Pardak today. The whole village is talking about it. Being able to have more than one child? It’s changed everything for my people.”
His stare is heavy again, weighing me down until I sink into the kitchen chair. His eyes trace over me, from my hair to my nose, and linger on my lips. A shiver passes through me and Bazur turns back to the stove, continuing to cook something in a pan.
“This is,” I say, picking up another basket filled with fresh bread, “really too kind of them.”
“No, it’s not. I don’t think you understand what you’ve done.”
He’s right, I don’t understand how this changes things here. I was happy to help Jessica, relieved to save her and her baby. To give her and Pardak the ability to have more children. I remember Lady Myren’s face as she told me Targoc was her one and only son. The love in her eyes was so strong but there was sadness there too. Bazur’s right: I have changed everything for them.
That idea alone threatens to overwhelm me, and I push the basket aside.
“Is it safe to assume you’re an only child as well?” I ask softly. Bazur looks over his shoulder at me before nodding once. He turns back to the stove and we sit in silence, however it’s not uncomfortable.
“My case isn’t like the others. My mother was an orc. Orc females tend to have better luck then the human women do when it comes to having children.”
“Where is your mother now?” I ask. Bazur freezes, his great shoulders hunching over the steam rising from the pan. Just when I think he won’t tell me, he does.
“She went to the Mother of the Mountain almost twenty years ago.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. Bazur only grunts as he reaches for a clay plate next him.
“What about your mother, Kaethe?” Bazur asks. I pause for a moment wondering if this is another test. However, just like earlier I don’t have it in me to lie today. There’s such a genuine quality to his voice that it pulls the truth from my lips.
“She’s passed as well.”
“Childbirth?” he asks but I shake my head.
“No, she was killed when I was young.”
“Your father? Is he still alive?”
“No, he was killed the same night.”
“I’m sorry about that, Kaethe. Truly.” All I can do is nod as we resume our silence. It’s not stew he’s preparing tonight; a decadent smell lingers in the air while something continues to sizzle in a pan. “Do you know who killed them?”
I should lie to him, but for some reason, I want him to know. Perhaps it is the grogginess I feel from the day but I want to tell him more about me. So that maybe, finally, he’ll understand. Perhaps the truth will take me further with him than a lie ever could.
“Our village was attacked one night. Raiders killed them.”
Bazur turns from the stove with a steaming plate in his hand, cooked vegetables and rich sauce coat a large piece of meat. It makes my mouth water as he deposits the food in front of me. There’s even a warm roll on the side of the plate. His eyes are soft, gentle, as he nods at what I’ve just said.
“Humans can be cruel, even to their own kind.” He picks up the empty plate beside me. His gaze on my face is so open and honest. An emotion I rarely see grace his rugged features. It’s so brutally beautiful that I can’t help but let a little more truth slip out.
“Orcs killed my family, Bazur.”
A loud shattering sound splits my ears as he snaps the plate in his hands.
