Chapter 20: Helpful Mates
A week passed by and, while waiting for Hazel's signal, Samson's days fell into a routine. As soon as the sun came up, Dalthu would drop Samson off at Shakil's hut. Samson would then spend the day exploring the village or playing with Ulam and the other orclings. In the evenings, he would return to Dalthu's hut and eat and drink with Adora and other orc mates until he fell asleep. When he opened his eyes in the morning, Dalthu would be back by his side and they would repeat the whole thing over again.
During this time Samson learned many things. He learned that every morning Dalthu would find a way to give him a present. One day, after he'd noticed that Samson's feet were blistered from his old shoes, Dalthu showed up with a pair of soft leather sandals and honey-scented ointment. On other mornings it would be flowers. Or a dressing robe with a tiger embroidered magnificently on the back. Or a decadent piece of fudge that was so rich he'd only managed a bite before giving the rest to Ulam.
Samson also learned that the orc mates were so treasured that it was considered shameful if your mate was unsatisfied. And, other than Hazel, none of the other mates seemed unsatisfied. On the contrary, Adora's friends all loved to gossip and boast about their respective mates and how they treated them. This evening was no different and Adora was crowing about the Mating Day gift that Shakil had given her.
"I'll tell you this much," she waggled her head back and forth so the pink gem earrings glistened in the candlelight. "I earned these. These last few nights it was like Shakil was trying to break my back."
"I know what you mean. Razan's favorite position requires that I stretch for at least an hour before bed."
"At least yours are only physical. I'm wearing myself out trying to come up with new scenarios for my plays with Kopitar. The last time I was an elf hunter and he was a dire boar, and I chased him around the hut while he snorted. I'm seriously running low on ideas."
"How about you, Samson?" Conroy asked. Conroy was a slender young man with curly blond hair who had recently become the mate of an orc named Vigs. "What is the fearsome Dalthu like in bed?"
Samson thought back to that night in the center of the village. "Like a beast," he said, and threw back the remnants of his cup.
One of the other mates, a young brunette woman named Cicily, squealed. "I knew it! My Arthon is the same, just a brute, you know? He says he can't help it, that he just loses all sense when he sees me, and, well, how can I stay mad when he says things like that?" Her face flushed a pretty shade of pink.
"I, ah, don't think Samson likes it as much as you do, Cici."
"Have you told him what you like?" Adora's smile was serene, but her gaze was sharp.
Samson gave a derisive laugh.
Why would an orc listen or care what I think?
"Next time he tries to mount you, Samson, just kick his balls. That'll get his attention."
"Wait, but what if he's into that?"
The mates turned to Samson expectantly.
"Um, I don't think he is. I mean," Samson shifted in his seat, "the one time we did it was violent, but not for him."
"One time?"
Samson nodded. "Yes, the one time after the Mak'gora."
The room went still.
"Hold on, you two haven't done it at all since then?"
Samson shook his head. The mates passed silent glances back and forth. "What? What is it?"
Conroy puckered his lips. "Erm, well, it's just—"
"It's just surprising, you know, because I was told that newly mated orcs are just insatiable, you know, that it has to do with the mating ritual and that it's the goddess's way of ensuring offspring. You know, my Arthon said that it feels just like blood lust."
Conroy nodded. "I used to raise goats in my village, and in the fall all the bucks would go wild. That's how Vigs was when we first mated."
"So, it's just surprising, yes, surprising that he, well Dalthu, hasn't done anything, you know? It doesn't make sense, does it?"
The room fell silent.
"Maybe he's getting it somewhere else?" Conroy muttered.
Adora slapped his arm. "Sha! Why would you say that?"
"What? He's a man, isn't he? Doesn't matter what shape his ears are."
Now that Samson thought about it, for all the teasing and touching Dalthu did to him on their way to the village, the orc didn't seem very bothered by the sudden abstinence. A sudden ache gnawed in his belly.
Conroy coughed and patted Samson on the knee. "Don't worry, Samson, I'm sure there's a very good reason he hasn't been interested."
"I'm not worried," Samson said a little too loudly.
The room went silent again.
"Maybe he's masturbating?" Cicily suggested brightly. "Like, constantly?"
An image of Dalthu sneaking off to masturbate for the entire day suddenly sprung into Samson's head. He snorted into his cup of wine and the tension in the room relaxed. The other mates joined in laughing.
"That's right, this subject is ridiculous," Adora said, taking command. "Let's talk about something else, hm?"
The rest of the mates nodded and hummed in agreement.
"Um, well, I suppose I have some news," Cicily smiled shyly. "It seems as though Arthon and I are expecting."
All the mates shouted for joy and crowded around Cicily. Adora playfully scolded her for holding back the news while the others begged to see her mark. Samson peeked over the crowd as Cicily proudly lifted the hem of her shirt. It was the mark. The same mark that Samson received that day in the Temple of the Goddess, but . . .
