"You hurt much?"
Maukurz was lying on his back on the hard cave floor, pillowing his head on his laced fingers. He rolled his head sideways and looked to Narzum. The dim glow of the fire, just back from the mouth of the cave, cast long, beautiful shadows over Narzum's thin, wild face. Maukurz offered a half-smile. "The first few days were shit. Maybe two days, maybe three. I didn't know how bad it was. I didn't have water. I was done for."
"But then you found the migaz…" Narzum laughed, tapping out a soft rhythm on the drum he'd saved from Isengard, a piece of contraband he'd risked his life for too long to let it go in the raging Isen.
"She found me. She was right in my face, a little tickler of a knife in her hand, didn't wanna stab me." Maukurz grinned, looking at the ceiling again. Back with the other Uruk-hai, he knew Halla's appearance to be the best bit of luck he'd ever had.
"She just wanted to suck your cock," Narzum murmured, barely audible over the pulsing drum.
Maukurz hissed softly, gently through his teeth. He looked to Narzum, quiet for a long breath of a moment before he said, "Don't talk about her. I don't want anybody thinking 'bout her."
Narzum laughed louder, taking the refusal of his subtle offer amicably, though not without disappointment. "Good luck with that, big brother. She was sucking on your tongue."
Maukurz smiled like a rogue, picking at a little pebble on the floor and throwing it at Narzum, stinging him in his bare chest. "Shut the fuck up," Maukurz said. He shivered, thinking of Halla.
"What's it like? With a white-skin, like that? Who likes fucking?" Narzum asked.
Dagalur, the fourth Uruk who Maukurz had whacked upside the head, spun around, sitting crosslegged near Narzum. "I'm in this shit. Beggin' yer pardon, Cap'n. I gotta hear this shit."
They'd never let it go without some description, so one-of-a-kind was Halla. Maukurz grinned, closing his eyes. "You know how I told you about the pits, right? How if you take your time and play and taste 'em, and you don't get all fuckin' wild tearin' 'em up, you can get a much better fuck..."
"No dry cunt," Narzum said, smacking his drum pointedly.
"Yeah but it was most of the time. They didn't wanna be there, they didn't want to fuck. You just take what you can get and like it. But... shit, I hate talking about her, you fuckin' little prick freaks..."
"Come on, who's had it before like that? Nobody. Master didn't get it like that. You're like the Lord of Cunt," Dagalur laughed, grinning. "You gotta throw some crumbs to us lowly maggots."
"Fuck you. It was sweet, right? You can get all the way in, you can do how you like, and she's in your ear breathin' all fast and makin' little sounds... And it's like warm, sweet water just breakin' all over you."
Dagalur could imagine it, just a little. Narzum smiled crookedly and laughed, thumping his drum. "Bad example for me, maybe. Water and all."
"Nah, you just don't know what's what, you like a sand pit," Dagalur said, deliberately excluding the picture of Isengard destroyed and Narzum choking on his back, puking river water, his illicit drum clutched in hand.
Maukurz sighed, tuning out the rude, raunchy conversation that began around him. He was content in one way, and full of angst in another: he'd had her, but not nearly enough. And though she said she was his, he had no territory of his own, and he was crippled. So there was no forever yet. And so much unexplored on her! And no whelps in her belly yet. Maukurz wanted it all, every bit of Halla. He wouldn't settle for anything less.
Then Flaguz's voice interrupted his planning, his fantasy. The Uruk hissed, "Sharlob likes Uruk-hai so much, she should give us all that sweet wet box, like War times, right down the line."
Outraged, Maukurz flew up, his ribs grinding, his roar bellowing. If his leg hadn't been broke, he would have ripped Flaguz's tongue out of his throat, refugees together or not.
"Shut the fuck up back there!" Baiurz barked. The Commander was seated at the mouth of the cave, gazing watchfully into the darkness, already angry with Maukurz for bringing his white-skin so close to their lair.
Maukurz glared at Flaguz with fire in his eyes and his lips curled in blood lust. So you don't wanna forget, do you? You don't wanna let shit go. You think I'm weak like this. You think the Commander will take your part, so now's your chance for payback. Behind Baiurz's back, Maukurz beckoned Flaguz with his fingers, sneering, licking his teeth. Mouthing, come get what you want, bitch… Flaguz stared back blackly, unwilling to show aggression after Baiurz denounced it.
The other Uruks in the cave, Narzum, Dagalur, and Shatauz sat wide eyed, wondering when the clash would come, deciding who they'd stand behind. Narzum started thumping his drum again, recklessly, shaking his head and smiling.
Halla sat over a cup of ale, listening to her husband discussing his new village of Birchleigh. Apparently—as with all over Rohan—there was a great rush to build exciting the villagers there, those survivors who were so eager to forget the war.
"There will be a rush for lumber from here to Edoras," Finnan's neighbor said, raising his eyebrows. "With the river so close to provide transport, those who have lands along the wood stand in line to make a neat little profit. You own the mills at Birchleigh outright, no?"
"That's true," Finnan said. "Both the saw mill and the grain mill belong to me, and the villagers must grind their grain there and pay the fee. There was some trouble in my father's time with homemade grinding stones, and sabotage of the millworks, but he put a swift end to all that. No one dares it now."
"Best see to that soon," the neighbor advised. "Nothing is so sure to inflame disobedience as a change in the lordship. But anyway, we've no such worries about your saw mill. It's the only one in the area. Some of my friends are hopeful that we might reach an accord with you, concerning its use. You'd be handsomely compensated, Lord Birchleigh."
Halla sighed in boredom, running her finger absently around the lip of her mug. She looked about the hall, catching Edwyn's gaze. He rolled his eyes a little and winked at her, and Halla smiled.
Halla waited impatiently for a pause in the conversation. "I am for bed, my lord," she said quietly.
Finnan looked up at her as he rose, and the eyes of his neighbors followed. "You don't wish to stay, Halla? Some of the Men are to sing the legends by the fireside soon, once all have had their fill of meat."
"I am exhausted," she lied. Truthfully, she felt her skin crawling under the gaze of Maukurz's enemies, who would hunt him to death even though he had lost his sword long months ago, and never picked up another. She couldn't stop the impulsive reach of her hand to her marked shoulder, checking for dampness and bleeding. She also couldn't ignore how comfortable she once would have felt around these Men, and how rich and warm the hall was. How familiar were the smells of ale and mead and roasting meat, and Men who smelled of supple leather and warm horseflesh! All of which she would have to leave behind for Maukurz, unless she chose them over her love. There could be no merging of the two.
Finnan smiled politely. "In that case, I shall leave you to your rest tonight my dearest, and sleep in the hall with the warriors."
Well knock me down with shock, Halla thought, pursing her lips together. But of course, it was more than fine with her if Finnan would use any excuse he could to stay far from her bed. The few nights she'd woken to find him settling on the other half of the bed she'd been deeply uncomfortable and frightened.
"Goodnight, my lords," Halla said, dipping a curtsey. She cast one last look at the fire-lit hall, and hurried up the stairs just in time to see Ailith pouring a kettle of boiling water into her tub. The soothing smells of lavender and chamomile wrapped around Halla and she smiled.
"Blythe said you took your bath in the morning and at night,"Ailith told her. "I thought I'd be prepared."
Halla arched her eyebrows curiously. She felt a little hope that maybe this was an offer of friendship, after their bad beginning. Halla hadn't realized how much she missed her female friends, all considered lower class by Finnan. "Thank you, Ailith," Halla said. "That was thoughtful of you."
Ailith clasped her hands together and approached Halla. She offered a small smile. "Shall I unbind your hair?"
Halla's hand brushed over her sore shoulder again, feeling only the soft linen of her new coral pink gown, one of ten Finnan had ordered from the seamstress. She felt also the two pins discretely holding a linen square over the fresh mark, as much of a bandage as she dared. No blood had seeped through.
Halla crossed to her small oak vanity table and sat on the cushioned stool. She unclasped her amber and gold necklace and draped it over a fine silver tray, patting her bandage again discretely. In a moment she felt Ailith's firm hands pulling her ivory pins from her hair. Halla gazed piningly into the amber, longing for him, wondering how he was fairing with his rough company.
He seems to have authority over them, even injured. So there is hope that all will be well… But how long will it be before these Riders depart, and he is healed? How long before I feel his arms around me again?
She realized Ailith was speaking to her. "My brother says you always go into the woods, every day, several times a day. I told him he ought not to mind the business of his betters. I don't think Ailen has said anything to his lordship yet… But as you know, Men—even boys who think they are Men—tend to stick together. It would be wise, my lady, to find some other place to conduct your affairs. There are many eyes upon you."
Halla sighed through a tight jaw, refusing to validate Ailith's statement by responding. They'll all be disappointed, then, that I have no where at all to go tomorrow, nor the next day. Maukurz promised that he would come to me, just as soon as the time was right. Although I can't think of how he will manage it, with so many around me bent on my misery!
Ailith's hands froze in Halla's hair. "You're bleeding, my lady!"
Halla stood up abruptly, pulling loose strands of her hair over her shoulder as she crossed the floor. She ran her fingers through the warm, soothing water. "I'm quite fine. You can go. I'm sure my husband has told you, or Blythe has, that there are sleeping quarters for you in the kitchen. And surely there is plenty of mead and meat tonight; you might as well help yourself to a hearty supper. But as for me, I wish to take my bath in privacy."
"You should bandage it at the very least—" Ailith stopped speaking, her eyes on Halla's shoulder and an odd, fearful look in her eyes.
Her stomach cramping, Halla returned to her vanity table. She picked up a polished silver mirror, her breath quickening to see Maukurz's bite quite obviously delineated in a ring of growing red blotches encircling the hollow of her shoulder. She must have somehow made the blood soak through the bandage with her light, anxious patting. Halla set the mirror down with shaking hands. "I… was with the horses… One of them bit me…" Halla laughed, high and nervous. "Foolish, really, on my part! I was between two mares who didn't like each other…"
It was a frightfully stupid excuse, but the best Halla could come up with. Why did he want to do this with me today of all days? Why did I say yes? She plucked the last two pins from her hair quickly, her shoulder stinging as she reached up.
Feeling Ailith's eyes boring through her back, Halla turned, combing all of her pale shining hair over her shoulder. She met Ailith's gaze with vulnerable blue eyes. There was nothing to say or do, save pray that Ailith accepted her accuse.
Ailith blinked fast, and whatever tears in her grey eyes were denied. Halla could see a thousand thoughts running all at once through the older woman's mind. For a moment, Ailith was locked in the horror of her own memories.
"Forgive me, my lady," Ailith mumbled, dropping a curtsey. "I will just lay your nightgown and robe out for you, then be on my way."
Halla watched in uncomfortable silence as Ailith draped a lovely new white on white embroidered nightgown over a threefold dressing screen of oak with linen paneling. A rich dark blue robe, trimmed with silvery fur, followed. Ailith curtseyed again, and fled the room. Halla sighed so hard she almost melted into the floor. More than anything else, Ailith seemed to be a prisoner of her own memories. Halla didn't want Ailith to be upset, but she was grateful that the older woman was too wound up in her own ordeal to think overmuch of Halla's lie.
And even if she does consider it later on, the truth of the matter is likely too preposterous to everyone… Would it even cross their minds that I had fallen in love with one such as Maukurz?
All the same, Halla was glad that she'd gotten Maukurz away. Things will die down now. I'll stay here each day, doing just what's expected of me, and everyone will forget their suspicions. Which can, of course, be nowhere near the truth! Halla unlaced her gown quickly, and climbed into her bath, hoping the hot water would relieve her unstoppable trembling.