Page 34 of Orc's Pride

“Up.” Dana cranes her neck up, and her scarf flutters in the breeze. “Right. I’ll just…”

She pulls herself up, finding a foothold, but she’ll need a boost to reach the next one. I expect her to cling stubbornly to the rock for hours before she admits she needs my help—shit, I half expect her to vault to the summit on her own. She’s not exactly predictable.

But instead she says, “Can you give me a lift up?”

And I do.

I’ve touched her before, but this time I’m more aware of her than I’ve ever been. The heat of her skin from beneath her tunic, the floral smell of her hair. It’s distracting, so much so that Idrop her a bit more roughly than I intend onto the rocky landing above.

She rolls her eyes, not too hurt, and pulls herself up the rest of the way. I climb next to her, helping her occasionally, until we reach the top.

Dana heaves herself up and sits heavily. A thin sheen of sweat decorates her brow. It’s like she’s glowing.

“Is this really what you do for fun?” She smiles. “No wonder your arms look like that.”

My arms? I glance at them and shrug.

“Are we climbing back down, or walking around?”

“I didn’t take you to climb a cliff.” I turn her around, hands on her waist. “I took you to see this.”

“Oh.” Her usual defensiveness is gone. She sounds awed. “Wow.”

From this vantage point, we can see the entire base. The thatched roofs, the soldiers patrolling, the servants pushing wheelbarrows of grain. And we can see the mountains in the distance with their snow-topped caps, and the meadows swaying with the wind.

“I’ve never seen anything this beautiful in my life.”

Pride swells in my chest. “I thought you might like it.”

“I’ll bet.” She sits on the rock cliff, and I settle beside her. “Do you take all the girls here?”

“No.”

She doesn’t seem to believe me, but my words still bring a slight flush to her cheeks. There’s a blackberry bush growing on the cliff, clinging to the small patch of earth it’s found here, and I pick them for her.

Dana eats them and stares out at the base. It really is beautiful, I think, what my people have managed to build in the midst of a war. I come here often to think, alone. To watch my people and think about their future.

But this time, I watch the juice of the berries stain Dana’s lips. The rays of the sun bounce off her sharp cheekbone. The curve of her dark lashes as she blinks.

This time, I’m not alone.

“I told Gor that I’m spending the day interrogating you.”

“Did you, now? Well, I’d hate to call you a liar. Go ahead, let’s hear your latest round of questions.”

I shake my head.

“You’ll tell me. When you’re ready.”

At least I hope that she will. I want to know her, but even more than that, I want her to trust me.

She stares at me, stunned.

And I lie back, hands bent beneath my head, and finally look at the view. We stay there like that most of the day, traveling down to drink fresh water from the stream. I catch a fish, and she cooks it over an open flame.

I don’t ask her any questions, but she tells me small things.

Her mother’s favorite flower, which grows nearby.