Skirmish (Cormac): Stroll

Skirmish (Cormac): Stroll

Follow along each week for Skirmishes of characters of the Orcblood Legacy Series. These are real events that take place during the story’s timeline but are not detailed in the book.

“Don’t ye go too far now, Ori!”

“Bah, let the lad have fun. It’s been a decade since he’s stretched his legs outside.” The dwarf slid his hand into his companion’s as they padded easily through the woods. He took in a deep breath, feeling the cool, open air in his lungs.

Catching a glimpse of her husband’s eyes closed in bliss, the dwarf woman smiled. “It’s good to see ye outside the wall. I don’t know why ye stay, Cormac. No one’s come knockin’ save a few human merchants in the last few hundred years.”

Cormac smirked weakly. In truth, the loyal defender agreed with her, but such was his duty. He slowed his march and looked at her before breaking into a thin smile. The dwarf had always wondered why she had chosen him above all others. There were plenty of other suitors for her to choose from—many with more lucrative paths than that of a gatekeeper in the Shield—especially one as beautiful as she. Yet, she had chosen him.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Cormac ran a hand through her thick, auburn hair. “We’ve had this conversation before, love.” Her eyes closed as she felt the warmth of his hand against her cheek.  “It be my duty. Whether anything has happened from outside the gate or not, someone has to keep watch. There be whispers that I may be in line for Captain, someday. Then I’d be doin’ much more than just starin’ at this pretty forest from afar.”

Kissing his hand, the dwarf woman simply smiled in silence. There was more she wished to say—as always—but knew it was a battle to never be won. She turned away and started walking again.

Cormac felt his stomach tighten with her lack of words. He knew his choices were not favored by his wife, a fact that pained him greatly. But what choice did he have? He was nearly four centuries old already. Over two-hundred years had been spent atop the wall, putting in his time. Now, with opportunity to climb the ranks at his feet, how could he consider walking away? For what purpose? To become a craftsmen? A merchant? No, Cormac knew he was suited for little else than the dutiful watcher—as did she.

“Where is Ori?” the woman asked, breaking her husband’s concentration. The look of concern on her face proved she had been scanning the woods for many moments with no sign of their son.

Looking in each direction, Cormac saw nothing. “Bah, he’s probably just waitin’ behind a tree to spook us. Ye know how the lad is, he loves his antics.” He put a comforting hand on his companion’s shoulder and smiled with reassurance.

His wife was less convinced, though she tried to force herself to relax. “Yer probably right.” Her expression turned into a genuine smile as she recalled her son’s past attempts of humor. “He does love his pranks, sure as stones.”

Together they walked, hand in hand, listening to the crunch of the fallen leaves beneath their boots. It wasn’t until they had taken near a dozen steps before Cormac stopped in his tracks.

“What is it, love?” Her concerned gaze followed his eyes to the ground in confusion. After a few moments in silence she finally realized why he had stopped.

The sound of leaves crunching from multiple footfalls could be heard.