Since getting to this world, Lenore Wraithwhisper had spent a good amount of her days either annoyed, angry, or terrified of the next punch that this strange new land would be throwing at her. She’d faced down treacherous humans, massive trolls, a band of Undead minions, and the very real risk of starvation in a laughably understaffed post. Those experiences all paled in comparison to the rage that was building in her.
Blood dripped from the fresh gash in her palm where she’d sliced it open. It stung, but that didn’t matter in the least. Someone under her command was likely a butcher. She’d always known that there had to be some truth behind the stereotype of “Demon Army” that she’d been expecting from the outset. You don’t typically have that name and be a bunch of flower-picking hippies. But this? Slaughtering a pair of helpless civilians wasn’t something she’d prepared herself to accept, and definitely not from this band of misfits. That misjudgment had cost innocents their lives, and it demanded more than a token gesture.
“I’m going to need you to tell me where your house is. I need to find these two and get answers from them.”
“Answers? As if you really care. Probably just want to punish them for not putting me down while they were at it.
“You don’t know me, kid, so I’ll let that slide. There is not a chance in hell that I’d let them slide for a thing like that but you should understand that I’m not going to just take your word that two of mine are butchers. You say they were still at your place when you left? Fine, I need to know where that is. Why weren’t you with the rest of your clan?”
“I don’t have a clan. My parents got kicked out.”
“Kicked out? Just like that?”
“I don’t know what they did, they never said. I just know that We had to stay away and make do on our own. They branded all three of us with some mark and put us out into the winter.”
“Well that’s… another layer of awful on what’s pretty awful to begin with. I’m sorry. I also can’t do anything about it right now, so we’d better get back to the matter of where you lived. Either draw me a map or agree to come with, but we’re leaving at dawn tomorrow. Whatever those two are up to, they don’t get to do it any longer.”
“Hmph… you expect me to believe that?”
“I don’t give a shit whether you believe it or not. I just care that you give me the info I need. I’ll prove the rest to you in due course.”
The girl scowled but nodded.
“Fine, I’ll come with you. This seems awfully drawn out to just be a trick.”
“I’m telling you, it’s not. Look…”
Whatever she might have been readying herself to say next was made lower priority thanks to the arrival of Curly carrying a platter of roasted vegetables from the mess hall. Keseryn tried to keep up the stubborn bravado, but the longing in her eyes as she looked at the plate told Len all she needed to know about the use in talking before the meal. Sighing, she gestured for Curly to deliver it to her.
He did so without comment at the removed bonds and left the tent, leaving things up to her. Keseryn stared at the food hungrily, but kept throwing suspicious glances at Len. Eventually, the dark elf got tired of it.
“Oh for crying out loud, kid,” she grabbed a random bit of squash and ate it up. It was bland and generally beneath any random meal she’d have been able to have made at home but that wasn’t really the point (though she did find it irritating that Cookie kept denying her access to the kitchen).
Keseryn observed the gesture and accepted that the food must not be poisoned if Len was that willing to snatch a piece up and the last bits of her willpower fled her. She devoured the food as if it were fine cuisine, savoring every last piece of meaty flesh from the squash and beans. Len’s heart fell at how desperately the child ate. She probably hadn’t had anything to eat in several days and looked like she hadn’t slept in longer than that. She didn’t leave the girl alone, but busied herself at her desk, reviewing the plans she’d drawn up for the greenhouse and generally doing what she could to put the child at ease.
“Um…” the girl eventually said hesitantly.
“Finished?”
“Yeah…” she didn’t quite seem to know what to say.
“This is the part where you say ‘Thank you for feeding me’ kiddo,” the words were a tad harsh, but Len made sure to add a smile to make it clear that she was teasing.
“Thank you for feeding me,” the girl said numbly, not returning the smile.
“Yeesh, tough crowd. Look, why don’t you get some rest? You look like you need it. Take the bed, I’ve got work to do.”
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That was a lie, she really didn’t have a damn thing to be doing right now other than generic supervisory tasks that she’d mostly delegated by now. She could try talking with Astrid again, give a status update and all that, but she was hesitant to do that on the off chance that the Demon Lord would order her to let the murderers get away with it. She didn’t think that was too likely, but it was also the sort of situation that seemed easier to ask for forgiveness over rather than permission.
Keseryn looked like she might want to put up a bit more fight now that she’d some food in her belly, but that look faded quickly as the warm furs and soft pillows tempted her into their embrace. Before long, she’d succumbed completely to sleep. Len smiled at the sight. Even if the girl didn’t trust it yet, it felt good giving her a safe place to recover. The circumstances that had necessitated it were monstrous, but it was still one of the relatively few overt good deeds that she’d been able to do and in spite of the guilt she felt over it, she did relish the feeling a tiny bit.
After about an hour of supervising the girl, Len rose from her desk and went to check on the rest of the camp. The girl was out like a light and not going anywhere, or else she was a very good actress. She went to talk with Valkar first.
“What can you tell me about Venar and Tess?” she asked him directly.
“What do you want to know? They’re hunters. Been assigned to us for a year or so. Spend most of their time in the wilds doing whatever it is they do. Every now and then they bring back some game that we can use, stick around for a few days, then head out again. They’ve got a system, don’t do much to drain our resources, and are a net positive.”
“And what would you say if I told you they had slaughtered a pair of humans for sport?”
“I’d say that it didn’t surprise me,” he shrugged. “What do you expect? We’re Orcs in the Demon Army. We’re SUPPOSED to kill humans.”
“On the battlefield is one thing. I’m willing to accept inevitabilities in war. I will not have my troops murdering civilians. Has this happened before?”
“I wouldn’t know. Maybe. Every once in a while they’ll bring back a cow or goat. Something obviously not wild, if you catch my meaning. I don’t ask, they don’t tell.”
“I have an orphaned child in my tent telling me that they killed her parents in front of her and then told her where to find me if she wanted to do anything about it. Does that sound like something they’d do?”
Valkar stared off into the distance for a moment then nodded.
“I can see them doing something like that, yes.”
Len’s gaze hardened. It wasn’t complete confirmation, but it was something.
“If they come back tonight, tell me immediately. I’ll be watching over the girl. If, somehow she gets away from me, no harm is to come to her. Is that understood?”
“Fine by me, I’ve no stomach for hurting children.”
“That’s good, because I want to be clear on this: that is not how I run things, period.”
Valkar grunted at that and returned to his watch. Satisfied for the moment, Len stopped by the mess hall for a meal herself, smiling cheerily at the aggressively relaxing orcs and returning to her tent. The girl remained in the same spot she’d left her, buried beneath the furs except for strands of her blond hair splayed out over one of the pillows.
Len smiled at that and ate her supper. While it was good to have the mystery of her would-be assassin cleared up, the consequences of the capture would be difficult to deal with tomorrow. She’d have to leave Curly behind, leave him as guard. She’d take Valkar, Moe, and Larry. That would be enough for what needed to be done. It was a gamble taking the Orc, but she’d get no better test of where his loyalties truly lied, and it’d be nice to put those suspicions to bed.
She was disrupted from that darkening line of thought by the sound of soft sobs coming from the bed. She couldn’t tell if the girl was crying in her sleep, or had awakened to the realization that her parents were gone and was finally letting herself feel it. Len was torn between the urge to give the child privacy and the urge to rush to the comfort of a child in pain. This wasn’t something she was used to and it felt exquisitely awful given the circumstances.
The urge to nurture won out and Len moved to the bed to stroke the girl’s hair and do her best to whisper reassurances into her ears. Eventually, the sobbing ceased and soft snoring returned. Len fell asleep in the chair beside the bed shortly thereafter.