Not that she’d change anything because of that. She adored Vehel and trusted him with her life. She’d offer him the same respect and protection, should the time come.
“The human army is still at least a day’s march away, possibly more,” she said. “We can take the time to rest and build our strength awhile.”
Mudurt nodded. “Aye. Whatever you wish.”
A simple jerk of her chin to the dragon sent his wings beating the air, lifting him off the ground. He didn’t need to remain on the ground with one hundred Norcs staring at him as though he were an object instead of a living creature. He needed time out, away from the prying eyes, to hunt and rest himself, and she didn’t expect him to stay by her side at all times. She would be able to call him back when the time came.
“I’m going to take Dela and the others back to my hut to get comfortable,” Warsgra told the new Norc leader, Mudurt.
Mudurt’s gaze shifted between her and Warsgra. “Is there anything you need?”
“Food, something to drink, and warm clothes. We’re all going to need weapons, too.”
“I’ll get that seen to,” the Norc said before turning and marching back into the crowd.
Dela tried not to exhale a sigh of relief. It was important to appear confident, and there had been a few moments where she’d thought they were going to end up in a fight with the Norcs. That was the last thing she needed. She’d always assumed Warsgra would have been able to turn them around, but it seemed it was her own display of power they’d recognized in the end.
The crowd started to disperse, though many stayed to stare at the dragon. He’d settled on a rocky outcropping above the Norc village. It was a good spot for him to be able to keep a watchful eye out for her.
“This way.” Warsgra jerked his head toward the cluster of stone huts and started walking.
Dela followed, with Orergon and Vehel close behind. Vehel continued to carry the dragon egg for her, the egg held close to his body. Her feet crunched across solid rock. Patches of ice and snow hid treacherously in shadowed areas, waiting to take her feet out from under her. The sun was starting to go down, and it wouldn’t be long before darkness took over once again.
She looked around, curious. She’d never seen a different race’s homeland before—not including the small Fae village they’d come across in the north—and it was interesting to see how the Norcs lived.
Children hid behind the walls of the huts, peeping out at them, their hands over their mouths, and running away the moment they were spotted. The adults nodded their greeting to the small group as they passed through, though Dela felt sure they wouldn’t be quite so welcoming if she hadn’t brought both Warsgra and the dragon with her. That was why it was important she had each of the men by her side. She needed each of the races to see how they could work together instead of viewing each other as the enemy.
A number of the huts had collapsed roofs, and for a moment Dela wondered if somehow the dragon sending a part of the side of the mountain had also destroyed the homes. But she’d made sure the dragon had been far enough away from the settlement to not cause any harm.
Warsgra stared around, a frown on his face. He spotted one of the younger men peering out at them, and he motioned with his finger, getting the man to step out into the open. “What happened here?” Warsgra asked of him.
“We had an earth tremor a few days ago,” he called back. “A violent one. It was enough to destroy some of the homes.”
Dela glanced over to Warsgra, and he caught her eye.
“Was anyone hurt?” she asked.
The young Norc shook his head. “No, though we heard stories of fissures opening in the mountains farther along the Great Dividing Range. Some of the other clans reported seeing things, and a few people were lost in the void.”
Dela pressed her lips together. Could the earth tremor be the same one that had broken the Seer’s cave apart? They’d been a huge distance away, but the timings were right. Who knew how the mechanism of the earth worked? The tremor they’d experienced had been violent, but was it violent enough to be felt a thousand miles away? Or had the tremor originated from the Great Dividing Range, and they’d simply experienced it in the Seer’s cave as well? It had never occurred to her that the tremor had been felt anywhere other than in the cave.
Dela was grateful to step inside the hut that she assumed was once Warsgra’s home and away from the watchful eyes of the Norc clan. They had every right to study her and question her. She was asking for their trust and loyalty, and she couldn’t expect to give nothing in return. But when she stepped inside the walls of Warsgra’s hut, she exhaled a long breath and her shoulders and chin dropped. Being so strong left her drained, and she needed a short time of feeling like herself again—just Dela, the street girl from Anthoinia—and not the Dragonsayer who was going to change the world.
Vehel crossed to where a pile of animal skins covered the ground and carefully placed the egg down to nestle it within the furs.
“Mudurt will probably have sent some women to find you clothing,” Warsgra told her as he set to work lighting the fire in the middle of the hut. A circular hole in the roof allowed the smoke to escape. “It might be child’s clothing, though,” he pointed out. “The Norc women are twice your size.”
“I’ll be grateful for anything.” She wrapped her arms around her body in a hug. “The mountains are cold.”
“Aye, they are. Especially after spending so much time in the north.”
“It’s funny how it’s so easy to forget,” she mused. “It wasn’t long ago that we were dying of thirst and struggling with sunburn, but now it feels as though that was moons ago.”
“Maybe,” he replied, “but I still prefer the cold.”
Warsgra went to the sleeping area of his hut and found some fur gilets for Orergon and Vehel. He handed one to Orergon and then frowned at Vehel. “You might be better with the women’s.”
Vehel scowled and snatched the fur. “This will be fine.”
Warsgra shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
One of the Norc women bustled in with a pot of something hot. Dela’s mouth watered as savory scents of onions and spices filled the air.
“I brought your favorite, Warsgra,” the Norc woman said, her wide hips swaying from side to side as she moved.
“Thank you, Furoga. Set it over the fire.”
Dela watched the interaction between them. The woman appeared similar to Warsgra, with her long brown hair in wild curls down to the expanse of her bottom, her full lips and heavy brow. She was beautiful in a sumptuous, robust kind of way. She set the pot down on the metal trestle above the fire and straightened. Her gaze flicked over to Dela, and her green eyes narrowed a fraction. The woman didn’t trust her, she could tell that much, and was probably angry Dela had stolen their most sought-after bachelor. Not that it mattered. Warsgra was his own man, and he’d choose who he wanted. If he decided to stay with his people, Dela wouldn’t stand in his way, but deep down she knew he’d stay by her side.
Perhaps sensing Warsgra wasn’t interested, Furoga turned her attention to Orergon. “Well, aren’t you a handsome one.” She slipped her hand over the ball of his shoulder. “Your skin is so smooth.”
Dela noticed the woman completely ignored Vehel. It was hardly surprising—she probably would have crushed him if she’d tried anything. Still, that didn’t stop the surprising spark of jealousy that jolted through Dela. She didn’t want any other woman’s hands on any of the men. She wanted to make her mark, but at the same time she didn’t want to step on any toes. She wanted to be respected, not hated, and this Norc woman had no way of knowing Dela had claimed all of the men. Besides, the men were more than capable of speaking for themselves.
Orergon stepped back, blushing fiercely.
“Leave him alone, Furoga,” Warsgra growled. “He’s not interested in Norc women.”
“Why ever not?” she purred. “You don’t know how it is to have a woman until you’ve had a Nor
c woman.” She glanced over at Dela as though making a point. “There’s enough meat on us to really get a good hold of.”
“Can you find some clothing that would fit Dela?” he told her, clearly trying to steer her away from the subject. “And make it quick.”
Her lip curled. “She’ll need child’s clothing.”
“Fine, if they’ll fit a human form better.”
The Norc woman pressed her lips together, as though holding back a smirk, and turned and vanished from the hut.
Dela had to remember that she was going to be dealing with a number of different cultures. She needed to rise above snarky remarks and insults, even if she had wanted to claw the woman’s eyes out.
“Sit,” Warsgra told them all.
There were raised platforms covered in fur for seating, and Dela slid onto one of them, and Orergon and Vehel climbed on beside her. This was all as strange to the Moerian and Elvish as it was to her. She watched with amusement as Warsgra went all domesticated, dishing up bowls of stew to each of them. He handed Dela a bowl first, and then Orergon.
“Sorry, it’s all we have,” he told Vehel, clearly aware the Elvish prince was once again going to eat meat.
Vehel shrugged. “It’s all right. I know I can’t exactly be picky when I’m in someone else’s territory.”
Dela tasted the stew. It was rich and flavorful and immediately warmed her from the inside out. There was no grain or bread to go with the meal, so she lifted the bowl to her lips and drained out the gravy with a number of gulps. She wiped her hand across her mouth, aware she was looking uncouth, and not caring.
Vehel had eaten more tentatively, but, like her, he knew they needed to keep up their strength and so had cleared the bowl. She felt bad for him, but she didn’t think the Elvish didn’t eat meat for any reason other than that a diet of seafood and fruit was simply what they’d been raised on because it was the most readily available.
Orergon had also cleared his bowl. She noticed he’d been quieter than normal. He’d never been a man of many words, but he’d barely spoken recently.
Maybe it was homesickness that was troubling him. They were already back at Warsgra’s home, and she’d seen her family in Anthoinia. They’d even talked about going to the Inverlands next, but she hadn’t yet mentioned any plans to visit the Moerians, though of course that was something she planned to do.
“Is everything okay with you?” she asked him when they’d all finished eating. “Are you worried about your people? We’ll go to the Vast Plains soon.”
But he shook his head. “I’m not sure my people will welcome me back.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
He turned to face her, though she noticed he kept his distance. “Dela, I have dark magic inside me. I’m not sure I should be welcomed by anyone right now.”
“You don’t know that it’s dark magic.”
“You weren’t there. It was dark, and I had no control over it. I’m frightened it will take me over again, and it’ll hurt someone I care about.”
“You wouldn’t do that.” She reached out and touched his hand. “I know you.”
But Orergon snatched his hand away. “Back in the jungle, we talked about the possibility of the others leaving me behind, but now I think I should be left.”
A spark of fear flickered through her. “No, Orergon. We stick together. No matter what.”
His dark eyebrows lifted. “Even if it means putting yourself in danger? Putting Vehel and Warsgra in danger?”
Warsgra huffed out a breath of air. “I can take care of myself.”
“And I have my own magic,” Vehel said.
Orergon’s fists bunched into balls. “I should never have been brought back,” he hissed. “You should have let me die on the fire mountain.”
“No, don’t say that! We need you. The Seer would have said if it was in your destiny to leave us, and she never mentioned it. She said we would all rule, all of us. She never said one of us should be cast out.”
“Maybe she hadn’t seen what happened back in the castle dungeon. She can’t see everything, I’m sure. Things are bound to change, or else what’s the point in free choice?”
She sensed the pain and distress radiating from him, and wanted nothing more than to pull him into her arms and soothe away his fear. But the more she tried to reach out to him, the tenser he became. Orergon had already suffered too much pain in his life after losing his wife and child, and she couldn’t stand to see him like this. Her heart twisted as she tried to put out her hand to him once more, only for him to flinch. How could she make this better? The Elvish were the only ones who knew about magic that she was aware of. They and the Fae, and the Seer, but both of them were far up north, and with everything happening in the south, she couldn’t afford to leave here to figure out if there was a way to heal Orergon.
Furoga reappeared in the entrance of the hut, her arms bundled with furs. “I found what I could. These should fit her.”
The woman dropped the bundle at Dela’s feet.
“You may address me directly,” Dela said, not raising her voice. “And I thank you for the clothes.”
Furoga’s gaze shifted over to her. “Aye. They’re small, but they should fit your skinny frame.”
“It’s a good thing I don’t carry too much weight,” she said smoothly. “It allows the dragon to move faster.”
The woman’s face blanched at the mention of the dragon. “Aye, I can see that would be useful.”
Dela smiled sweetly, though the expression hid what she was really thinking. “These furs will help keep me warm up there. The air gets cold thousands of feet from earth.”
She muttered something that sounded like ‘I wouldn’t know,’ and then started to back out. She paused. “Is there anything else you need?”
“No, that’s all,” Warsgra said.
She retreated, leaving them alone once more.
Dela picked up the clothing. They were thick and warm, the fur soft. Despite the fire and the warm stew, the tips of her fingers and toes still felt icy, and she appreciated plunging her fingers into the warmth.
Feeling self-conscious, she pulled on the fur jacket, fastening the front together with metal hooks across her breasts. She still wore her own leather trousers and boots, and had no intention of removing them, so pulled the short fur skirt up over the top. The Norc women wore only the skirts with boots and a sleeveless fur top that showed off their strong bellies and arms, but Dela wasn’t as used to the cold as they were and had no intention of showing off any part of her body.
“You could almost pass as a Norc woman,” Warsgra said appreciatively.
Dela raised her eyebrows. “I don’t think so. But I’m certainly warmer.”
With Vehel and Orergon also dressed in furs, they all looked much more suited to these climes.
Outside the hut, the mountain range was cast in an orange glow. Night was falling.
“I want to leave to find the human army before sunrise,” Dela said. “They’ll have been forced to stop overnight, and I wish to reach them before they get on the move again.”
“Do you think they’ll listen to you?” Vehel asked.
“I don’t plan on giving them a choice. If they continue to march with the intention of fighting, I’ll be forced to use the dragon. I imagine seeing a number of their comrades going up in flames will be enough to change their minds.”
Her jaw was rigid, her shoulders stiff. She didn’t want to be the one to hurt people—especially not her own people—but she couldn’t allow them to continue on to fight the Norcs. The Norcs had done nothing wrong, and she wouldn’t see them hurt, however strong they were as a race.
“If they don’t fight, and turn and run back to Anthoinia instead, King Crowmere will see that as treason, and he’ll have all of them killed.”
Dela shrugged. “That will be their choice. Everyone knows how King Crowmere deals with things. If they choose to return to him, then I won’t stop them, but if t
hey choose to fight me, I’ll be forced to retaliate.”
“And what about those who choose to follow you?” Orergon asked. “It takes a lot of food and water to supply an army. It’s like a small town suddenly settling somewhere.”
“They’ll have supplies to last them a few days yet, and then I hope the dragon will help to feed them.”
“He won’t be able to do much if he’s with you hundreds of miles away,” Vehel pointed out.
“He can catch far bigger prey—wild deer, for example, that will last the army some time.” She could see the doubt in their faces and exhaled a sigh of frustration. “There’s no other choice. They’ll have their own supplies to last them, and I’ll help.”
Warsgra’s full lips twisted. “The Norcs won’t want to give up their food for a human army who was coming here to slaughter them.”
“We all need to work together. We need to stop thinking of ourselves as us and them, and become united. That’s the only way this is going to work.”
“People aren’t going to be happy,” he said.
“For the moment, I don’t care if they’re happy. I’m trying to keep them alive.”
Vehel nodded. “I think that’s a fair point.”
“We need to get some rest,” she told them. “In a few hours, I’ll call the dragon back, and then we can go and face the human army. We need to be strong and fresh. They can’t see any weakness in us.” She turned to Orergon. “That includes you, Orergon. I’ll need you to speak on behalf of the Moerians.” She caught his dark gaze. “I need you. Do you understand what I’m saying?” She couldn’t allow his doubts in himself to ruin things when it came to her meeting with the Moerians.
Into a Dragon's Soul: A Reverse Harem Fantasy (Chronicles of the Four Book 3) Page 4