Page 17 of The Orc Warrioress and the Elf Lord

“I am Katil,” she said to Gathren.

Gathren introduced herself.

“Oh, yes,” said Katil. “We are all aware of your name. Everyone talks of little else, truly.”

This unsettled Gathren. She had been functioning as if she were invisible, considering that no one much spoke to her. She now felt aware that everyone was likely watching her, and she felt self-conscious.

“We are all curious about Iahir’s prowess in bed,” said Katil with a giggle.

Gathren’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Oh, only because Marlir, who is a widow, had an affair with him some years ago and pronounced him a rather uninspired lover. She said he was often too drunk to perform and that he fell asleep inside her more than once.”

Gathren could not help but burst out laughing. “I have to say that sounds like him.”

“So, he is much the same with you, then? Has he repeated the same behavior?” Katil was very amused.

Hmm. What to say? Gathren did not wish to flatter Iahir anymore than he was already flattered, but she also did not wish to appear as if she were some woman here at his beck and call, chained to him though he behaved badly. If she made it out that he was so terrible at pleasing her, then it begged the question why she remained here with him. Gathren shrugged. “Let us say he required… instruction.”

Katil let out a delighted laugh. “Oh, yes, all right.”

“But he has proved an adept learner,” said Gathren. “And, I suppose it is satisfying to have a man who looks like that want you, of course.”

“He is handsome,” admitted Katil.

“At any rate,” said Gathren, “I am really here simply to help him learn to fight better. I am, as he says, his sparring partner.”

Katil just laughed again. “Yes, yes, his sparring partner.” She winked at the orc woman.

Gathren wondered if that would be the end of the conversation.

But Katil kept looking at her, seemingly still willing to engage.

And Gathren could not stop herself from asking, “What do they say about me?”

“Oh,” said Katil, looking away. “Well, it is nothing, I suppose.”

“That bad?” Gathren should have guessed. She busied herself with smoothing her napkin and turned back to her plate.

“In truth,” said Katil, “I think some of them—or, well, at least I know I am—are envious of you.”

Gathren turned back to the other woman. “Envious?”

“You have such freedom,” said Katil. “Or it seems that way to me. Here you are, wearing men’s clothing to dinner, sparring with the guards in the ring during the afternoons, able to choose a man for yourself, to teach him if he does not satisfy you. How could I not be envious?”

Gathren wanted to assure the woman that she was not truly free, because she was here in obligation to the orc cause—but of course she could not say that. And she did not know why she had conceived of this scheme, anyway.

It mattered only that Findas was dead, she supposed.

But it would all be going badly soon, when they discovered her lies.

She shook herself. Time enough later to think on that, she supposed.

Katil was still talking. “I am a cousin to the High King. He asked me to court and said he would find a husband for me, but I have not been offered marriage, only more and more lascivious situations, always with the promise that they will lead to marriage. I have been induced to sit on the laps of lords and allow them to touch me through my clothes. I have even been instructed to slide my hands inside men’s trousers and pleasure them, and I know that if any man knew his bride had done such things he would not want me. I think my cousin has, in fact, ruined me for marriage entirely.”

Gathren swallowed. “I am sorry, my lady.”

“Not a lady,” said Katil. “No title for me, nothing like that.” She shrugged, smiling. “I am at court, of course. Otherwise, I should have been home in my brother’s household, and I should have been hidden away, no chance for adventure.”