Splint

Chapter Twelve: Force of Nature


A cold, white light woke Rukhash from her sleep. Opening her eyes languidly, the orcess realized it was coming from the narrow window above her dresser. The fire in the hearth had burned out during the night and the orcess remained ensconced in the warm bedding for several, long minutes, staring sleepily at the thin curtains waving in a gentle draft. The cottage was quiet except for the dull howling of the wind outside and an occasional creak from the roof.

Deciding she had slept in long enough, the orcess sat up slowly; stretching catlike as she yawned. The temperature inside had dropped significantly from the night before and Rukhash shivered as her bare feet touched the rough texture of the frigid wooden floor. She stared lazily at the white nothingness revealed by the window as she pulled on her thick, dark boots. Annoyed at her obscured view, the orcess crossed the short distance to the window. Stretching over the dresser, she rubbed the sleeve of her dress against the chilled glass. This did nothing but remove a thin film of condensation, and the orcess squinted against the white vision beyond the pane.

"The fuck," she muttered. "Musta froze over."

Crawling onto the old dresser, Rukhash nudged her weapons aside with her knee and, shouldering the thin curtains out of her way, grasped the heavy bolt on the side of the pane to lift it up and out of the lock. Her first, half hearted shove caused the old paint to crack against itself and a few flakes loosed from their spot and sprinkled onto her dress. The window, however, barely budged. Cursing under her breath and squaring her shoulders, she heaved against it with all of her considerable strength. This wedged the window open with a muffled, crunching sound and Rukhash fell forward onto a frozen shelf. She looked up, dumbfounded, at a ceiling of snow; her upper body resting in a triangular hollow made by the window. Reaching up through the frozen canopy, her dark arm traveled through several inches before she managed to break free of the drift and touch the bitter, rushing air outside. The orcess cursed again and pulled her arm inside, bringing some of the snow with her. Rukhash stared at the bleak sky through the tunnel her arm had made, completely stunned.

"Bleeding bor pushdug," she hissed, alarmed. Pulling the window shut with unnecessary ferocity, the orcess sprang from her perch on the dresser and out of the bedroom, crossing the main room of the cottage in bisque strides. With a flood of frigid air, she opened the outside door to a frozen landscape. The orcess braced herself against the wind as she stepped onto the small porch and examined the severity of her situation.

Beyond the cover of the awning, a few small flurries drifted down, the remnants of whatever storm had raged through the night while she slept. With an inward sigh of relief, the orcess realized it was not as serious as the view from her bedroom would suggest. The snow was deep, but while the wind gathered impossibly high drifts against the main house and cottage, it also blew deep valleys in the barer stretches, and the orcess could still see the peppering of dry grass in a few wind swept areas. She could still be on her way today. Orc blood ran hot – Hot as the rage of Mordor, as her father would say – and while the orcess would be hesitant to make the long trip home in a raging blizzard, a few snow drifts would not be an issue.

Cadoc slept oblivious, snoring lightly with his mouth hanging open like a gasping fish. Rukhash stood for a long time in the doorway connecting their rooms, unsure of what she was feeling. There was a real part of her that wanted to stay. That much she could admit to herself. Somehow her attachment to him had grown beyond a simple need for company, or a desire to make him see orcs as something more than just an enemy, but what passed between them the night before confused and troubled her. It would be better for both of them if she left. A small tightness formed in her chest as she thought of her cold, empty cave, just three days away, and Rukhash almost scoffed out loud at her foolish sentimentality. Certainly, she had spent more time alone there than in the presence of this ranger.

Besides, she would return in spring to see that Cadoc kept his promise. The orcess found herself straighten at the thought. She would be back, after all. Then, Cadoc would lead her safely to Mordor where she could be with her own people. She could put this whole, muddled business behind her and start a real life. The life she was supposed to lead. The life of a true orc.


Cadoc woke slowly, half aware of the pleasant warmth surrounding him. He smiled as he sat up and saw the newly fed fire beyond the foot of his bed. A pair of spare logs were laid out next to the hearth. Getting to his feet, the ranger shuffled towards the open door connecting his room with Rukhash's. The bed was empty, and her sheets were turned up haphazardly. Cadoc was a little surprised she had bothered to make her bed in the first place, and smiled again at her thoughtfulness. Standing at the doorway to the main room, Cadoc noticed the fire in that hearth had also been recently fed. On the counter, the old teapot sat next to a mug and a small, brown package. Frowning, Cadoc turned to look over Rukhash's room again.

Her belongings were gone. Yesterday, Cadoc had watched Edda gather the orcess's possessions to rehouse them in the cottage. Now the hooks and dresser – which should have sported her cloak and weapons – were empty. In their place hung the gray dress she borrowed from his sister. Cadoc hobbled into the kitchen to examine the package left for him. He recognized the contents immediately as the medicine she prepared for him before they left her cave four days ago.

Though Cadoc had his doubts about orcish medicine at first, he was impressed with its effectiveness. Technically, his injuries should have been further behind in healing. Rukhash informed him that this was because of the bitter potion she made him drink each morning. Though she had insisted on a few occasions that an orc would be healed from an injury such as his by now, Cadoc knew, if left to the care of mannish medicine, he would still be bedridden.

The dark, soft brick had a row of inch square cubes cut out of it. One cube was placed in his empty teacup next to the kettle. Cadoc realized this was her way of instructing him on dosage; something she had neglected to do in the past, since she oversaw making his medicine herself. The amount she left would supply him for four weeks easily. Beyond that, he assumed his leg would finish healing on its own.

Cadoc wasn't sure why he expected a note of some kind. Rukhash had shown no sign that she knew either reading or writing, but he was troubled that she had left without saying goodbye. Had he driven her off? Was she offended by the gentle moment that had passed between them? Cadoc heated water and mixed his medicine with a hollow feeling in his gut.

In a burst of frigid air, Edda entered the cottage to find her brother sitting somber and alone at the kitchen counter; sipping slowly from a hot mug. Scanning the room, she realized the orcess was nowhere to be found. Edda shifted the large bundle in her arms to gain better purchase. Crossing the distance between them, she came to set the supplies on the counter next to Cadoc. She regarded her brother's dour expression thoughtfully as she shed her cloak.

"Where's Rukhash?" Edda asked him lightly. "Still sleeping?"

Cadoc sighed through his nose and stared at the dregs of his mug. "She's gone."

"Gone?" Edda was a little surprised. Elador had told her last night that he invited the orcess to stay as long as she liked. With the heavy snow that had fallen, Edda was sure the Rukhash would have taken him up on his offer.

"She'd mentioned before that she had no intention of staying," Cadoc informed his sister, and Edda could not ignore the melancholy in his voice.

"But with all this snow..." Edda trailed off, disconcerted with her brother's dreary mood. Cadoc shifted uncomfortably on his stool, and turned to face her fully. Gazing at the large package she had carried in, he favored her with a small, forced smile.

"What's all this?" he asked, purposefully shifting the conversation.

Edda decided to take her brother's lead and drop the subject of the orcess's absence. "Oh," she breathed. "Well, I thought to bring you a few necessities. I did not think it would be wise for you to be traveling between the cottage and the main house with your injury."

Edda untied her large package to reveal a pile of books and wrapped foodstuffs. Carefully separating the contents, she began filing away the food in appropriate cupboards. Letting Cadoc know what was where, she was careful to place everything in accessible areas. Cadoc nodded as his sister prattled off each item while he carelessly leafed through the books she had brought. Edda's library was humble, but education had been important to their late father, and Edda made sure that all of her children knew their letters and numbers. Cadoc had read most of the books she assembled for him, but many he would not mind reading again. He smiled to himself, not surprised that his sister knew his tastes so well. The books she had brought him were heroes' sagas and old mythologies, and would help to bide the time while he was homebound. A pair of Edda's older dresses were at the bottom of the package, and Cadoc ran his fingers over the rough homespun, aware of who they were intended for.

"I suppose I'll pack those away again," Edda said when she noticed where Cadoc's attention was centered. "Though it's a shame. They are still good dresses, I've just not the figure for them any more." Edda ran her hands self consciously down her matronly hips with a subtle frown. Cadoc put a warm arm around her shoulder and hugged her close.

"You've the figure of a fine woman," Cadoc assured her, aware of how affected his sister was by her looks, though Cadoc could not imagine way. If anything, her mature figure added to the gracefulness of her girlish features. "I am sure Elador would agree with me."

Blushing, Edda slapped at his chest half heartedly. "Oh, you," she laughed. "I need to feed Hallas, but I'll fetch your breakfast first."

"Tend your son, sister," Cadoc said as he lifted one of the sagas from the pile of books and made his way to the sofa. "I'm not terribly hungry at the moment." Edda tucked her shawl around her more tightly and pulled on her cloak. Coming to stand behind her brother, she laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"She'll be alright, Cadoc," Edda said, hoping to lighten her brother's mood, or to sooth whatever fears he had about Rukhash's fate. "It seems to me that your friend has been through worse than a snowstorm. I'm sure she'll be fine on her own."

Cadoc tensed at her words, but he reached up to pat his sister's hand absently. "I'm sure you're right, Edda," he said, though there was no conviction in his voice.

The next several days were punctuated by Edda's frequent visits. Elador would stop in with her often and engage Cadoc in friendly conversation over a pipe. Guthwen would see to her son's suppers and Morwen and Wulf would pop in after their chores for a story or two from their uncle. Rukhash was never discussed. Cadoc felt that was Edda's doing. His sister had always been of the mind to evade grievous topics, and Cadoc had a feeling that Edda had instructed her family to avoid mentioning the absent orc in order to spare Cadoc's feelings.

Despite his frequent, friendly company, Cadoc found his thoughts returning to Rukhash often. At first he was angry at her. The orcess's sudden disappearance seemed excessive and unfair. After all the time they had spent together in camaraderie, and the warm welcome his family had given her, Rukhash could have been decent enough to say goodbye. That anger only lasted a day or so before Cadoc realized that she was most likely trying to avoid a messy departure. Cadoc could not explain his behavior the night before she left, but he had obviously made her uncomfortable. It made sense that she would leave quietly after that. She most likely feared a repeat performance in the morning.

As for what had passed between them, Cadoc was at a loss to explain it to himself. While the liquor had made him comfortably warm, and perhaps a little too relaxed, it was not the driving force behind his actions. Cadoc could not deny that he had begun to feel something for the orcess, but what that something was still eluded him. It was definitely more than simple pity for her fate of gratefulness for her aid, though Cadoc would not describe it as love. He had loved Ingrid from the moment he met her – a part of him would always love her, despite the pain she had caused him. That emotion was too strong to confuse for anything else. Cadoc had guarded his heart jealously after his divorce, and he would know if it had betrayed him in such a way. Nor did he feel a blind, fanciful desire or perverse fascination with her race. While Cadoc considered Rukhash comely in her own, alien way, and her orcish nature was interesting at times, the more bestial aspects of her features and disposition were still enough to give him pause, no matter how domestic her appearance. What he did feel was a true affection when he thought of Rukhash; an admiration for her strength and a fondness of her gruff nature. She was a curious mixture of coarse and gentle. He did not lie when he told Hedon he considered her a friend.

She was a cherished companion, and whatever else he felt apart from that was arbitrary. Cadoc hoped that his foolish behavior had not soured their friendship permanently. He would hope to see her again in the spring and help her return to her people. As her friend, he could do no less than keep his promise.


"That girl, I'll tell you," Guthwen clucked. "Eddawen is going to spoil her rotten." The older woman was hunched over the wood stove in the cabin, stirring furiously at a pot of thick soup. Cadoc smiled at his mother.

"She just wants Morwen to have the things she didn't," Cadoc said, trying to sooth his mother's temper.

Cadoc regretted his ill chosen words as Guthwen fixed him with a withering stare and began wagging her wooden spoon in his direction. "The two of you wanted for nothing!" she admonished, and Cadoc raised his hands in a placating gesture.

"Of course we didn't," he said gently. "Mother, I don't think buying Morwen a new dress will spoil her."

She harrumphed and turned back towards the stove. "A little hardship never hurt anyone," the older woman said, more to herself than her son. Cadoc chewed quietly on a crust of soft bread and let his mother complain, recognizing that she was looking for a sympathetic ear and not a conversation.

Their one-sided discussion was broken by a curt rapping at the door.

Mother and son exchanged a curious expression. Wiping her hands on her apron, Guthwen crossed the main room to answer the knock. Though Cadoc couldn't see who was past his mother's silver head, he noticed her whole posture stiffen. Intrigued, Cadoc rose to follow her.

"What are you doing here?" Guthwen asked in a bitter tone. Cadoc sighed when he saw who she was addressing.

Ingrid was just as beautiful and severe as she had ever been. Her bright, strawberry hair was twisted up in a simple style. Her pale face offset by fierce, green eyes; sharp and defiant and cold. Cadoc swallowed roughly. Though he tried to see if his son was with her as well, Guthwen was blocking the better portion of the door, her hand clutched possessively at the post.

"Guthwen," Ingrid addressed his mother evenly. Then, looking past the older woman, she nodded in his direction. "I have business with your son."

"I'm sure you do, you treacherous little witch!" Guthwen snapped.

"Mother!" Cadoc admonished. Ingrid's fine mouth was drawn into a firm, resentful line.

"Please, Ingrid," Cadoc said calmly as he removed his mother from the entrance, "come in. Mother, go see if Edda needs your help with the children. I can see to my own affairs."

Guthwen's gray eyes flashed rebelliously for a heartbeat, but she cooperated quietly and gathered her things to leave. Ingrid remained outside until Guthwen left, exchanging a glare with the older woman as she passed. Ingrid entered with her head held high, though Cadoc noticed her eyes dart around nervously.

"What can I do for you, Ingrid?" he asked with a sense of weariness, though he had a good idea as to her purpose for visiting.

"Where is it?" Ingrid asked with a quiet dread.

Cadoc's brows furrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about?" he asked crossly. Cadoc was in no mood for subtle games tonight. If she refused to bring his son to visit, then Cadoc had no desire to entertain her more than necessary.

"The orc," Ingrid breathed. "I'd heard there was an orc staying with you. It is why I have not come to see you sooner."

Cadoc felt his jaw clench with nervous tension as he paused en-route to the kitchen area. "How did you find out about that?" he asked, doing his best to keep his voice even.

Ingrid made an unintelligible scoffing sound and positioned herself between him and the counter. "The whole village knows," she informed him. "Hedon told Nándra about your encounters and Nándra told everyone. You know how gossipy that woman is."

Cadoc had always liked Hedon's wife, despite her running tongue she was a loyal and good hearted soul, but in that moment he felt capable of strangling the tiny woman. "And what exactly," Cadoc asked slowly, "does the whole village know?"

"That an orc saved your life," Ingrid began, "and also Hedon's, and that it was staying with you and your sister. Some have said it has somehow bewitched your family, but I think that Edda is daft enough to let an orc into her house. The magistrate had to disperse an unruly mob that wanted to march up here and burn your houses down. He said that, with no proof of foul play, order would be maintained."

"The orc isn't here," Cadoc said, barely reigning in his anger. He felt a twinge of annoyance at Ingrid's relieved expression. "I suppose Baladnor had some hand in that mob," Cadoc added crossly.

Even before the man stole Ingrid from under his nose, Cadoc had not liked Baladnor. He had been an orc hunter in the years after the war, and while Cadoc had no grievances against such a profession – until he met Rukhash – Baladnor had been a part of a sect of orc hunter that would trade orc heads for money. For just shy of a decade after the fall of Mordor, many provincial leaders offered a fair reward for an orc's head; hoping to rouse men's bravery – so beaten down by a perilous war – with gold. In Cadoc's opinion, there was no honor in such a profession. A ranger preserved the peace, be he battling orcs or men, and took only his yearly stipend as compensation for his service. For all the orcs Cadoc had killed, none of them had brought him any further boon than knowing they would not destroy another village.

In the end, Baladnor had received a just reward for his chosen profession. Five springs past, not long after he married Ingrid, an orc had run him through during a battle in the northern Misty Mountains. While his comrades were able to keep him from dying, his wound became viciously infected during his transport to the nearest village. Death had not claimed him, but the infection left him permanently crippled on his right side. Baladnor could no longer ride a horse or wield a sword with any dexterity. The last time Cadoc had seen the man, he was drowning his sorrow at the tavern.

Ingrid neither confirmed or denied Baladnor's involvement in the horde intent on marching upon Elador's property, but Cadoc sensed guilt in her silence, and that was enough. Pulling the chest containing his stipend from the far cupboard, Cadoc began counting out his ex wife's alimony in plain view and wished, not for the first time, that he had bothered to hire a lawyer before signing those divorce papers. He vindictively hoped her current husband drank the whole measure away. Their son, Holgar, was now serving as a carpenter's apprentice, and making his own money. As far as Cadoc was concerned, Ingrid could suffer with her miserable choice. Cadoc didn't want to hate Ingrid for what had happened between them. His absence in her life was just as hurtful towards her as her affair was for him, but Cadoc couldn't help the spite he felt towards the pair of them.

Ingrid fidgeted nervously as Cadoc set down each coin on the wood table with a dull clank. She kept looking from the splint on his leg to his face with a sick expression. Ingrid clasped Cadoc's rough hands in her own, stilling his movements.

"Forgive me," she said quietly, and there was sorrow in her voice. "I am glad, Cadoc – truly glad – that you aren't dead. When I had heard you'd gone missing..." Ingrid's voice cracked as it trailed off, and Cadoc felt the rough edges of his anger smooth away. Their eyes met briefly, and Cadoc thought that he was looking at the Ingrid he had married so long ago. Steeling himself against his treacherous heart, Cadoc pulled his hand gently from her grasp and slid her portion of his income in front of her. After a miserable pause, Ingrid began collecting the coins from the counter, tucking them inside her dress pocket.

"I am surprised," Cadoc said as he watched her, "that your husband would let you come here, thinking an orc was on the premises."

"Baladnor doesn't know I'm here," Ingrid explained. "He is...out tonight." She did not expand on her answer and Cadoc didn't have the malice in him to press the matter. There was so much sorrow in her, and it was just as much his own fault as it was Baladnor's. Ingrid was too prideful to show her sorrow openly, so the fact that he was seeing it now made her sadness all the more poignant.

Edda took that moment to come storming into the cottage, her dark cloak swirling in the blast of winter that entered with her. Cadoc's sister marched into the main room with a triumphant smirk on her face and Cadoc positioned himself between his sister and ex wife, worried that Edda would begin a quarrel. His sister had once been quite companionable with Ingrid, but that had quickly soured after Cadoc's divorce. Edda was never good at holding her tongue when it came to her thoughts, especially her opinions of Ingrid.

"Edda..." Cadoc warned, feeling a ghost of protectiveness towards his ex wife. "What are you doing?"

"I'm sorry to interrupt, brother," Edda said cooly, "but I'm afraid you may be a bit put out this winter."

Cadoc felt a twinge of unease. Edda looked far too pleased with herself. "What are you talking about, Edda?" Cadoc asked, annoyed with his sister's ambiguity.

Before Edda could answer him, a series of boorish curses drifted in through the open door.

"Bleeding fuck, Edda," a familiar, gruff voice said from the porch. "What're you running the whole ways fer? I got a fuckin' weight on me." Rukhash appeared on the threshold, dressed head to toe in fur and leather, bowed under a large, leather rucksack with more ties and pockets than seemed necessary. Cadoc glanced towards Ingrid. She sported a horrified expression, her fist pressed against her mouth as if she was trying to stifle a scream. Edda looked completely pleased with this reaction, and ushered Rukhash inside, shutting the door behind them.

Upon seeing the silent horror of this unknown woman, Rukhash stopped short and regarded the three people in the room with her. Cadoc looked like he just swallowed a bug, while Edda's smug smirk bordered on creepy. Shifting the strap on her backpack uncomfortably, Rukhash decided that greeting Cadoc could wait and immediately headed towards her quarters.

"I'm stayin' outta whatever this is," she said, gesturing towards the three of them, and disappeared into the small, dark bedroom.

"She just showed up at our door, poor thing," Edda said innocently. "She looked so tired from her journey, I thought I'd bring her straight to her room." Cadoc shot Edda a withering glare.

"I need to go," Ingrid said hurriedly.

He grasped her arm to halt her escape, and Ingrid looked at Cadoc with wild eyes. "Ingrid," he said soothingly, "sit down. Rukhash isn't a danger to you." Cadoc led a stunned Ingrid to the nearest stool and sat her down gently.

"Edda," Cadoc addressed his sister. "Please fetch Rukhash out here so we can avoid any confusion." Edda seemed happy enough to retrieve the orcess from her room while Cadoc situated himself next to Ingrid. She looked ready to bolt from the room at any second.

Wary, Rukhash peeked out from the bedroom, a trepidatious expression on her face. Deciding Cadoc and his guest seemed calm enough, she crossed the short distance to where Cadoc stood, coming to stand an arm's length from the terrified woman seated in the kitchen. Edda remained in the doorway with her arms folded over her chest.

"Ingrid," Cadoc said, gesturing at the orcess, "this is Rukhash."

Deciding to take Cadoc's reassuring lead, Rukhash squared her shoulders and nodded amiably at the pale woman seated in front of her. "Hullo, ma'am," the orcess said. Ingrid gaped. The orcess shifted her weight uneasily and decided to try another tactic. "Yer Cadoc's wife?"

Blinking, Ingrid looked affronted. "Ex wife," the woman clarified.

"Gar," the orcess growled. "Whatever that is. You two got a lad, yeah?"

Ingrid looked uneasy. "Cadoc told you about Holgar?" The orcess nodded, and Ingrid shot a dangerous look in the direction of her former husband. Cadoc ground his teeth. Even with no frame of reference for such a thing, Rukhash could use a bit more discretion when speaking of such provocative topics!

Sensing her misstep, Rukhash decided to change the subject. "Listen, ma'am," Rukhash said, leaning towards Ingrid in a manner she hoped was companionable and not threatening. "I ain't sure what I was dragged in on, but I ain't here to cause no issue fer no one. If you need that I should leave for a bit, that's fine by me. I's just caught in a bad spot fer the winter, and Edda were nice enough to say I could crash here 'til spring come." Ingrid seemed to relax as the orcess explained herself, and Cadoc glanced at his sister. Edda shrugged nonchalantly at him with a small, knowing smile.

"I was just stopping by," Ingrid said hesitantly. "I really should be going, but it was nice to meet you...er...Rock-ash." Cadoc noticed the orcess bristle a little as Ingrid mispronounced her name, but Rukhash let it slide.

Ingrid pulled on her cloak, and turned towards the orcess as she prepared to leave. "Thank you," Ingrid said, nodding towards Cadoc, "for saving him."

Rukhash rubbed her neck sheepishly. "Weren't nuthin'," the orcess blushed. Ingrid bade Cadoc farewell and cooly disregarded Edda as she left. Rukhash watched the tender look that passed between Cadoc and Ingrid with a sinking feeling. Somehow, she imagined there was more between those two than a muddy past.

"I loathe that woman," Edda said as she glared at the front door.

"That was remarkably short sighted," Cadoc admonished, and limped resolutely towards his sister. "What were you thinking, barging in here like that? You nearly scared Ingrid half to death."

"So what?" Edda replied, annoyed.

"You know who her husband is," Cadoc said coldly. "You are lucky Rukhash was able to smooth things over before Ingrid left. Or do you not value your standing in the village?"

"Rukhash has no effect on my standing in the village," Edda informed Cadoc vehemently. "What is Ingrid's drunk of a husband going to do? Stumble around on my property?" Cadoc rubbed his face tiredly, unable to continue this conversation. When he turned around, he discovered Rukhash watching them both carefully.

"I shouldn't have come back," the orcess said, quiet, and dropped her gaze to stare at her clawed hands.

"Don't be foolish," Edda said, rushing to the orcess's side and placing her hands on Rukhash's shoulders. "You are always welcome here. You stay right where you are and I will fetch you some supper and fresh clothes and you can have a nice sponge bath. We had ham for dinner. I know how much you like that." The orcess nodded dumbly. Edda gave Cadoc a dirty look as she rushed to gather some finer comforts for Rukhash, and Cadoc hobbled over towards the orcess, intent on apologizing.

Cadoc took a seat in the stool next to her. Now that he had a moment to examine her, Cadoc noticed that Rukhash looked much more gaunt. Her cheeks appeared a little sunken, and her eyes were hollow. What had happened to her in the past eight days? She looked exhausted; not at all like the vibrant orcess that he had come to know.

"What happened?" Cadoc asked her quietly. "You left so suddenly, I thought you were upset."

"Weren't nothin' like that," she replied. "Just didn't want there to be no sad goodbyes the day after. I fuckin' hate that shit." He could hear the weariness in her voice and it worried him.

"But when I got back to my cave," the orcess continued, "it were sacked. Weren't nothin of the food I'd gathered. I know it were wolves 'cause they shat all over the fuckin' place. The whole place was trashed. I cleaned it out and managed to salvage enough fer a couple'a days, but I couldn't track down nothin' and I thought...I thought maybe I come back here and stay like you said. I were so damn hungry, and I ain't got nowhere else to go..." The orcess's voice trailed off to a whisper as she spoke. Cadoc put an arm around Rukhash's shoulder and hugged her to his chest, resting his cheek on her greasy head. She smelled awful, like sweat and mud and her own strong odor, but Cadoc would not allow her to think that he was angry with her. In truth, he was glad she did not stubbornly remain on that mountain and starve to death.

"I'm relieved you're here," he said as he released her. "Edda is right. You are always welcome." She smiled at him weakly, her expression obviously relieved.

After a bath and a meal, Rukhash looked considerably more like herself, though her movements were stiff and weak. Edda even helped the orcess wash her hair in a large basin. Rukhash kept thanking his sister, a hint of shame in her voice. Cadoc wasn't sure if Edda noticed, but the orcess was obviously upset that she had to ask for assistance.

Once Edda had finished fussing over Rukhash, she left the orcess in Cadoc's company and returned to the main house to take care of her own family. Rukhash sat next to him on the sofa, dozing in the warmth of the hearth. Soon she was soundly asleep. Cadoc knew he would be unable to carry her to her bed without causing himself injury, so he covered her with a spare quilt. Before retiring to his own bed, Cadoc stooped to lay a gentle kiss on the dark, damp crown of her head.

"I am glad that you've come back," he whispered. Rukhash's ear flicked lazily, though she showed no sign that she had heard him.