Give her to another

[moonshadows]

The ancient troll held the baby gently in his leathery hands, turning it this way and that.

“Well? Can you do anything about it?”

The troll shaman looked up at the impatient orc woman, lips stretched around worn tusks in what was supposed to be a reassuring smile. “Da voodoo, it be strong. Dere be no way ta break it. She gonna be bound by dis spell for da entirety o’ her life.”

“Give me the child,” the orc demanded angrily. “I won’t have her become a weapon of that honorless coward.”

“An’ whatchoo gonna do about it, den, mon?” The troll’s voice sank into a quiet hiss, hands still curled securely around the infant.

“The magic wouldn’t let me kill her while she was still inside me. She has no such protection anymore.”

The troll’s grin widened. “Ahhh, an dere be da answer. Da only way ta save her an’ make sure she not be a slave ta ya enemy be ta let her go, give her up an’ make her a slave ta anot’er.”

The orc jerked in surprise. “Is that possible?”

Once more the troll’s hands wandered over the small green body. “Da voodoo, it be a tricky ting. Slippery-like, ya mon? But we can turn dat ta our advantage. Joo be willin’ ta give her life ta anot’er, give up all claim on her?”

“If it keeps her out of Blackhand’s clutches,” the orc growled. “I’d lay down my life as well as hers to make sure he never gets his precious Champion from me.”

“Dat be a good ting,” the shaman said. “Joo may need ta do dat.”

If this surprised the orc, she didn’t show it. “So who do I give her to, then?”

“Da priests, dey give part o’ dere souls to da loa dey serve. Da loa own dem, body an’ soul, until dey die.”

“So she’ll be a priest to one of your gods?”

“It not be dat easy, mon. Da loa, dey won’t take worshippers not o’ da tribes. But dere be one loa who refuse ta take worshippers from da tribes. You gonna give your bebe ta him. Mebbe he let his children eat her. Mebbe he refuse her. But mebbe, jus’ mebbe, he take her an’ give her back. He do dat, an’ joo know she belong ta him.”

“And then what do I do?” the orc asked, cautiously taking her child back from the old troll.

“Joo raise her. Teach her da best joo can. We be teachin’ her, too. She gonna be a weapon, dat can’t be changed. But we gonna make her da best weapon she can be, an’ wit’ luck she become someone else’s weapon, ya mon?”

The orc’s jaw clenched with iron determination. “And if not, I’ll kill her before she can serve Blackhand.”