The Half-Orc's Maiden Bride (Aspect and Anchor)

It's infuriating, but not surprising. I offer the blacksmith coins for his information. "You have my thanks."

The man holds up his hand. "Keep it. I get plenty of business from you and your men, and everyone is always respectful and pays on time. I have no quarrel with you. If anything, I'm surprised so many are flocking to Lord Pissant, because he's well-known to be cheap."

He might be cheap, but he's fully human. Sometimes that's all that matters. I don't say this aloud, though. "Let me know if you learn anything else I should be concerned about."

"Will do." The blacksmith grins at me. "And congratulations on the bride. She's a big, strapping one, aye?"

"She's magnificent," I tell him proudly. "A bride fit for a king."

"And nothing like her father," he adds in amusement.

There is that. My Iolanthe is as different as night and day when it comes to her father, and I couldn't be more relieved.

I linger in town, drinking an ale at the tavern and getting more information from my sources. Everyone talks about the mercenaries Lord Pissant is hiring, and how he's telling them he needs them for a “brief raid.” I'm not too worried—my men are well-trained, and the mercenaries in town won't fight hard for someone like him. He thinks he'll be able to take over my keep with little effort, and his arrogance will be his downfall. My biggest concern is that my bride will be upset that her father and her new husband are at war. Will she pick me over him? Doubtful. She's only known me for a few days and has been his daughter all her life. The thought of Iolanthe choosing him over me is a depressing one, but realistic.

No one chooses a half-orc when there are any other options.

When I head out of town with my soldiers, a group of men meet us at the crossroads. The leader moves toward my mount, and I can see his armor is battered and used, weapons strapped to his back. He calls out to me, "You the half-orc lord?"

"Do you see any others around this town?" I say, amused. "What do you want?"

He eyes me, calculating. "Lord Pissant's raising an army against you. Me and my men here were interested in his coin until we heard he was coming against you. Your men all say you're fair and you pay on time. Ain't nobody says that about Lord Pissant. Wanted to see if you'd be interested in hiring us, instead."

"I'm celebrating my wedding," I say, choosing my words carefully. "But a man such as me can always use a few more loyal guards. You're welcome to join us. My second will be in charge of payment."

The men exchange looks, and I see them nodding. I don't blame them. Back when I hired my sword out for coin, it was important to be paid well, but it was more important to work for someone trustworthy. Too many of these lords think a sellsword is beneath them, and because of that, they short their pay, or don't pay at all. Reputation is everything amongst mercenaries, and mine is saving me right now. "We'll be joining you," the leader says, and then adds, "Lord Pissant says you're holding his daughter against her will, and he's going to be rescuing her."

Sigh. Of course he did. "Lord Pissant was paid an enormous bride-price for the honor of marrying his eldest daughter. My wedding to Lady Iolanthe will be finalized tonight. If Lord Pissant thinks his daughter shouldn't be marrying a half-orc, he shouldn't have been so quick to take my coin. He was willing to sell her, and I bought her hand in marriage."

The men nod. "We thought it might be something like that. It'll be his word against yours, though."

"So it is." I meet their gazes calmly. "And as I said, tonight is the wedding, and Lady Iolanthe has put a great deal of effort into getting things running smoothly. I won't have her upset by anyone, most of all her father."

The leader grins at me. "Strange day when a half-orc lord is the reliable one, eh?"

Strange indeed. I gesture to my men that we should ride on back to Cragshold Keep, and I'm not surprised that all of the mercenary band falls into place behind, joining us. If Lord Pissant tries something tonight, before I can truly marry Iolanthe, I'm going to murder him with my own green hands.

CHAPTER 14

IOLANTHE

It doesn't feel real, this wedding, until Belara's priest is brought into the keep and seated at a place of honor near the fire. Suddenly everything is too real, and my nervousness reaches a fever pitch. I race back to my room to spend the short time before the dinner feast and ceremony fussing over my hair and dress. I eye my reflection in the beaten copper mirror that appeared yesterday, smoothing a stray strand of hair into my intricate braid.