Trade Sister for Honor - 1. Chapter 1

Karl stood on the back porch of the house, his fingers clenched tightly around the rotting railing, and stared at the cloud of dust hanging between him and the setting sun. The orcs had set up camp; some of them had already entered the village, and it wouldn’t be long before the Council of Elders officially announced what they all already knew.

Tomorrow morning, all young women between the ages of 16 and 24 who were childless were to gather in the town square. Only the head of the family was permitted to accompany them.

The wood creaked beneath Karl’s fingers. Every year, the orcs went to a different region to select the tithe brides, and he remembered the tense atmosphere in the village ten years ago. He had been a child, ten years old, and people whispered that the orcs would come for him someday too, because he, in turn, had been born ten years earlier during their visit. He remembered his own confusion over this story, how his father had tried to stifle the gossip, and how his mother had laughed nervously. He remembered his older brother’s resentment.

Now he had only his younger sister left, and given the general situation, the gossip—which, of course, was circulating through the village again—left a bad taste in his mouth. The drought had been plaguing them for three years already; in the fall, the void beasts had done their part. Going with the orcs would at least offer him a secure life as a servant beneath the mountain; as part of one of their so-called ruby courts, even an honorable, perhaps even luxurious one.

But there was Mathilda. And there was Fred.

Going with the orcs would only be fair if Mathilda were chosen as a tithe bride and would therefore also leave the dying village. Or if she had a local man as a partner, willing to marry her as soon as the orcs rejected her. But there was no such man.

Instead, there was Fred. His companion. Fred would never accompany Karl into a life beneath the mountain; he feared the orcs too much for that. But Karl would only be able to build a life with Fred if Mathilda became a tithe bride, for then the honor it would bring to her family would be enough for Fred’s parents to accept Karl as their son-in-law.

Karl alone could offer Mathilda neither a decent life nor a dowry; letting her go into the mountain alone seemed cruel to him. It was precisely this dilemma that had been gnawing at him ever since the void beasts had killed their father and brother.

The remains of the withered silver-drop bush beside the porch rustled sadly in a breeze. The bush’s essential oils and resin kept the void beasts at bay, but the drought had taken a heavy toll on the bushes, which were not native to this southern region.

A sigh escaped Karl’s chest, and he turned away, stepping back into the house. The parlor was painfully empty and silent. The fire, lit more to ward off the cold of the spring nights than to cook—for at the moment they had no food in the house—crackled softly. Mathilda polished her shoes with the last traces of grease.

“They’ll be announcing it soon,” she said quietly.

“They will,” he confirmed, barely louder, before sitting down across from her at the table.

The nails in the beams, from which dried herbs or braids of onions had once hung, now stared back at them empty. On just one of them, Mathilda had hung and mended her best dress—once their mother’s best dress. She had patched a small tear and embroidered it with a vine of leaves; only the spirits knew where she had gotten the green thread for it.

Mathilda looked up, met his gaze, and gave him a small, uncertain smile. He didn’t ask what she thought about the possibility of being chosen as a tithe bride. The orcs’ consorts lived in luxury, were practically worshiped – or so it was said – and their human families received honor, status, and gold.

Karl couldn’t say whether women who were truly unwilling were chosen, for to the orcs, not even the bond of marriage was sacred as long as the woman in question had not yet borne children. He had no idea what it was supposed to mean, but the elders insisted that the orcs chose based on resonance.

The light grew dimmer as Mathilda kept polishing her shoes, just to keep herself busy, and Karl sat there watching her, his thoughts spinning aimlessly.

A crier came by and seemed to stop deliberately right in front of their house before bellowing out what they all already knew.

Then silence reigned once more. The village had gone quiet with tension the moment the orcs had arrived.

Mathilda put her shoes away, set aside the grease cup and the rag. She reached for the drawer where the candles were kept and paused. They had no more candles.

When there was a knock, they both jumped.

Mentally exhausted, Karl got up and went to the door, unlocked it, and couldn’t help but grin wearily when he saw Fred standing there.

"Mother cooked too much,“ said Fred, wiggling his eyebrows meaningfully. His mother wasn’t known for her generosity unless it served her own interests, and apparently she thought it best to feed Karl and Mathilda that evening. She was probably hoping Mathilda would be more attractive with a full stomach. Karl didn’t dare say what else she was hoping for.

“Thanks,” he said instead and stepped back to let Fred and the pot in. “We appreciate that.” As he closed the door, Fred leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the mouth.

“I can’t stay—you know that would be inappropriate—but I wanted to wish Mathilda a calm heart in person.”

“Thank you,” Mathilda replied quietly, with a faint smile. She was already holding bowls in her hands and nodded to Fred.

Karl took the pot from him and set it on the table before opening the protective cloths. A hearty aroma of root vegetables, smoked bacon, and onions filled the air; Karl’s mouth watered.

Fred sat down with them and told them the latest about his family. The eldest of his three older brothers had a daughter who would be eligible for the next tithe, and there had been talk of marrying her off early enough so that she would already be a mother and thus ineligible.

“That would be sacrilege,” Mathilda said in horror, voicing Karl’s thoughts. “How can your mother approve of something like that? She's only five of now!”

“She doesn’t.” Fred shook his head with a grin. “She’s declared very loudly that no daughter under her protection will be married off until she’s seen at least eighteen summers.”

“I suppose your brother didn’t like that.” Karl raised an eyebrow questioningly and shoved a spoonful of stew into his mouth.

“Not at all.” Fred’s grin faltered before fading. “He says the orcs aren’t doing enough for us and still demand our daughters.”

“The orcs don’t control the weather,” Karl mumbled with his mouth full.

“Of course not, but the nearest fort is days away. The water they supply as aid isn’t enough. It can’t sustain people, animals, and plants alike—let alone the silver-drop bushes.”

“True enough, but the orcs can’t protect every village.” Another dilemma, as Karl knew.

The orcs protected the humans as best they could from the void beasts, since they were practically immune to the void fever, and in return received human women as consorts, without whom their kind would die out.

Dying silver-drop bushes, distant orc outposts… of course the void beasts had ravaged the village, feasting on human flesh. But Karl couldn’t blame the orcs. Perhaps it was more the humans’ fault for settling so far south, almost in the steppe.

But he didn’t need to tell Fred as much. His companion might grin and find his family’s discussions amusing, but he feared the orcs. There wasn’t even a real reason for it.

With a sigh, Karl peered into the pot; there was enough for another meal tomorrow. One less worry.

Mathilda stood up and returned with the water jug. What they’d been given wasn’t much, so she poured a little into each bowl, meant equally for rinsing and drinking; there wasn’t enough for a proper wash.

Karl drank the bowl dry, and the bland aftertaste of the stew was like a mockery. He covered the pot again, and Mathilda took the bowls away; as he let his hands drop, Fred reached for one.

“Are you thinking about tomorrow?”

Karl nodded slowly and returned Fred’s encouraging squeeze of the hand. Mathilda’s footsteps echoed loudly in the darkness as she retreated to the bedrooms upstairs, and he couldn’t quite suppress a sigh. “I feel awful,” he finally brought out. “Whether she gets elected or not, I have no idea what to do. Go with her and hope I can serve her mate? Stay and hope your parents will take me in and that life here won’t get even harder? How are we supposed to make ends meet if she doesn’t get elected?”

“Maybe you should stop thinking,” Fred suggested, standing up and pulling Karl from his chair.

Karl sensed what he was up to even before his arms wrapped around him and his mouth found Karl’s, but he wasn’t in the mood. After a few kisses, he turned his face away and rested his forehead against Fred’s shoulder instead.

“Would you really want to live with the orcs? Under the mountains? Far away from sunlight, from rain, from the spirits?” The words were gentle, full of understanding, and slowly, Fred rubbed Karl’s back.

“The spirits have done even less for us than the orcs, and we haven’t seen rain in ages,” Karl replied. “But at least there are no void beasts under the mountains.”

Fred seemed to want to say something, but then settled for a sort of approving grunt.

Although he found himself in the firm embrace of the man he loved, Karl had never felt as lost in his life as he did now.