[Queen of Orcs 02] - Clan Daughter (2 page)

Kovok-mah entered the forest to forage for food while Dar remained to study the territory ahead. When the sun approached the horizon and long blue shadows crept across the land, Dar heard the soft sound of footsteps. The orcs emerged from the trees carrying mushrooms that looked tiny in their large hands. After placing the food before Dar, they marked off Muth la’s Embrace using twigs and small rocks. Meanwhile, Dar divided the mushrooms into six piles, then waited for the orcs to join her inside the sacred circle. Once they were all seated, she intoned in Orcish, “Food is Muth la’s gift.”

“Shashav, Muth la,” replied the orcs in unison.

Dar handed out the meager rations. Then she and the orcs ate in silence. Dar doubted the orcs were any more successful at enjoying their meal than she, for the mushrooms were woody and tasteless, intensifying rather than satisfying her hunger. Kovok-mah waited until everyone had finished eating before he spoke. “I’ve talked with Dargu about what lies ahead.”

The other orcs followed his gaze to the darkening land. “Our kind once lived here,” said Lama-tok. “That’s urkzimmuthi stonework around washavoki houses.”

Dar peered at the village on the hill. She had noted its circular wall earlier, but had paid little attention to it. After Lama-tok’s remark, she looked at the masonry more carefully, but it was only a gray shadow to her in the failing light.

“There are few trees,” said Varz-hak.

“Good,” said Zna-yat. “I’m tired of hiding.”

“There’ll be too many washavokis to fight,” said Kovok-mah. “We must pass through this land unnoticed.”

“How will that be possible?” asked Duth-tok. “Surely, some will see us.”

“We’ll cause washavokis to see without understanding,” said Kovok-mah. “Instead of wearing death’s hard clothes, we’ll wrap ourselves in cloaks Dargu brought. We’ll travel by night, cover our weapons, and speak not as we walk.”

Zna-yat regarded his cousin suspiciously. “You are speaking, yet I hear Dargu’s words.”

“Hai, and you hear wisdom,” said Kovok-mah.

“Wearing washavoki cloaks won’t change anything!” said Zna-yat. “If washavokis see us, we should close their eyes with swords.”

“That won’t get us home,” said Dar.

“It’s not your home,” said Zna-yat. “Why do you want to go there?”

“It’s where Muth la sends me,” replied Dar.

“I think your words are like those cloaks you wish us to wear,” said Zna-yat. “There’s something different beneath them.”

The orcs had no word for “liar,” but Dar understood Zna-yat’s accusation. Apparently, Kovok-mah did also. He sprang to his feet. “Such talk shows lack of wisdom.”

Dar nervously watched Zna-yat, fearing he would rise and challenge Kovok-mah. Instead, he surprised her by bending his neck in submission. “Then I must learn Dargu’s kind of wisdom.”

Zna-yat’s ambiguous reply didn’t calm Dar’s apprehension, but it satisfied Kovok-mah. “Good,” he said. “Remove your hard clothes. I’ll get Dargu’s sack of cloaks.”

While Kovok-mah went to fetch the cloaks, the orcs began to remove their armor. They wore short tunics beneath their shirts of iron plates, in addition to leggings not unlike those of human soldiers, and heavy sandals. Zna-yat, who was the first to cast his armor aside, walked over to Dar. “My mother’s brother’s son doesn’t understand your washavoki ways,” he said in a low voice, “but I do.” Then he grabbed Dar’s shoulders and pulled her toward him. Bending down, he sniffed her face. Zna-yat’s lips formed a partial smile as he released her. “My blood’s scent is gone.”

Dar kept her expression neutral and said nothing. Instead, she prepared for the night’s journey. First, she removed all trace of Muth la’s Embrace from the ridge. Then she carefully hid the orcs’ discarded armor. Kovok-mah returned with the cloaks and Dar’s possessions. These consisted of a few items she had scavenged from the battlefield—a second dagger, a water skin, and the knapsack that had held the cloaks.

When it grew dark, Dar and the orcs headed down the wooded slope. As Dar traveled in the gloom, she pondered what Zna-yat had said. It was clear that his self-imposed truce was over.
But what does he intend to do?
Dar glanced over her shoulder. Zna-yat was only a shadow moving among shadows. If he wished, he could easily kill her in the dark.
What’s stopping him?
Dar guessed the answer.
Kovok-mah.

Dar was certain that Zna-yat didn’t fear Kovok-mah. As far as she could tell, orcs were nearly fearless. It seemed more likely that Zna-yat was staying his hand out of consideration for his cousin.
Does that mean I’m safe?
Zna-yat’s remark about learning “Dargu’s kind of wisdom” provided an ominous hint. Dar reflected upon the nature of “her wisdom.” Only human words could describe it.
Guile. Deception. Trickery.
It seemed to Dar that Zna-yat had implied that he wouldn’t attack her openly, but would act like a washavoki instead. Yet, the idea that an orc would resort to treachery ran counter to Dar’s understanding of orcs.
How well do I know them?

Sevren and Valamar dismounted, and the two men waited in the dark for the camp to grow quiet. Valamar sneaked in first. When Sevren thought his friend was safe, he led Skymere to the field stables. As he had hoped, the remnant of King Kregant’s army was still in disarray. Only a handful of orcs had survived, and the king’s human troops were badly battered. When the sentries saw that Sevren was a royal guardsman, none questioned where he’d been.

Sevren tethered his horse, rubbed him down, then watered and fed him before looking for a place to sleep. He was just drifting off when a boot nudged him through his cloak. He looked up and saw Murdant Cron standing above him. “I did na put you on patrol. Where’d you go?”

Sevren said nothing.

“I’ll have you flogged, countryman or nay, if you do na answer. Did you loot the slain?”

“You know me,” replied Sevren, “so you know the answer.”

“I want to hear it from your lips. From the looks of Skymere, you rode far. Did you visit the battlefield?”

“Aye, I went there. But na to loot. I fulfilled an oath.”

“What oath? To whom?”

“I told Dar and Twea they would na be left behind.”

“You mean the wee lass and the orc wench?”

“Aye.”

“What of your oath to our king? You’re his guardsman. He wants you close.”

“I know the penalty for leaving camp. I’ll take my stripes.”

“There’s na need for that,” said Murdant Cron. “I’ll keep this ’twixt you and me, if you tell me ’twas the last time.”

Sevren sighed. “’Twas. She’s gone.”

“I could’ve told you she was dead. There was na cause to risk your back.”

“Only Twea’s dead. I found her where Dar placed her.”

“You mean the orc wench lived?”

“Aye. Lived and fled with orcs.”

“Then she’s a fool. Her company will doom her.” Murdant Cron shook his head. “You’ve always fancied strange women, but she was the strangest yet. That wench brought only trouble.”

“Her troubles were na her doing.”

“I’ve heard different tales, but that’s all by the way. Forget her, as I’ll forget tonight.”

“I’ll na leave again,” said Sevren. “There’s na point.”

“Good. I want you fit, not flogged. There’s like to be more fighting.”

“Aye, knowing the king, I’m certain of it.”

After a difficult walk down steep slopes, Dar and the orcs reached the edge of the woods. Before them lay a meadow illuminated by a full moon. Even Dar could see well. “Such light will aid our enemies,” she said. “Let me check your cloaks.”

The orcs halted. Dar covered her brand with a fake bandage, then adjusted the orcs’ disguises. She pulled the hoods over their large heads to hide their faces and arranged the cloth to best cover their bulky forms. On men, the garments would have nearly touched the ground; upon the orcs, they ended at midcalf. Only in darkness would anyone be fooled into thinking those who wore them were human.

“You must walk in shadows,” Dar said.

“Show us our path,” said Kovok-mah, keeping his voice low.

Dar gazed about, trying to get her bearings. The route she had plotted from the hilltop wasn’t discernible from her new perspective, and she wasn’t certain where she was. Nevertheless, Dar headed toward a hedgerow. “Follow me.”

They reached the hedgerow, a boundary formed by tall, thickly tangled shrubs. A narrow footpath ran beside it. From the cliff top, Dar had noted that a network of pathways followed the hedgerows, and she intended to use the paths to avoid the roads. Dar followed the dirt trail until the hedgerow it paralleled intersected with another one. She glanced at the stars to determine where north lay, then chose the path that headed northeast.

Dar’s zigzag route took them past meadows, orchards, and newly planted fields. She always walked on the shadowed side of the hedge, and if a path approached a dwelling, she backtracked and found a different one. Such caution made progress slow, but Dar picked up the pace as the night wore on and the entire world seemed asleep.

It was well past midnight when a figure suddenly stepped onto the path from a hedgerow. Dar froze. The figure was a woman dressed in a robe that reached the ground. Dar saw her clearly. She wore a thin metal band upon her head. Thick, dark hair surrounded a face with an exotic cast. It featured pale eyes, a high, broad forehead, and a small chin that was covered with a pattern of dark markings. The woman paced about in a preoccupied manner and appeared not to have seen them. Yet as Dar motioned for the orcs to halt, the woman ceased pacing and stared directly at her.

“Why are we stopping?” whispered Kovok-mah.

Before Dar could reply, the woman spoke. “Naug nav ther?”
Where are you?

Surprised that the woman addressed her in Orcish, Dar answered in the same tongue. “I don’t know.”

Kovok-mah spoke as if Dar had responded to his question. “Then shouldn’t we proceed?”

Dar turned and whispered. “That woe man sees us!”

“What woe man?” asked Kovok-mah.

Dar turned and pointed. The path was empty. She walked over to where the woman had stood, while scanning about for some sign of her. “She was right here. Didn’t you see her? She asked me where I was.”

“I saw nothing,” said Kovok-mah. “I heard nothing.”

“How is that possible?”

“It is Nuf Bahi, when visions come.”

Dar realized with chilling certainty that the woman hadn’t been flesh-and-blood.
That’s why only I saw her.
Dar wished she hadn’t. All of her other visions had foretold death, and she feared this one did also. The woman’s words seemed particularly foreboding.
I have no idea where I am
, Dar told herself.
I’m lost.
She was seized by an impulse to confess that to the orcs. But when she turned to face them, Zna-yat’s expression stopped her.
He’s looking for weakness.

Dar reconsidered what to say. “My eyes see poorly in darkness,” she said at last. “Yet Muth la sends me signs.”

Three

Each orc responded differently to Dar’s vision, and their faces reflected their reactions. Duth-tok was awed. Lama-tok was uneasy. Varz-hak seemed both. Zna-yat had the smug countenance of one who sees through a performer’s sleight of hand. Kovok-mah’s expression was the most complex. Dar found concern mixed with wonder.

While the orcs didn’t hide their emotions, neither did they voice them. Only Kovok-mah spoke. When he did, it was as if Dar had merely stopped to rest. “Are you ready to go?”

Dar took a deep breath. “Hai.”

No more visions came that night. Dar continued to lead the orcs, while gripped by the anxiety of the lost. Her only guidance came from the stars, which she followed northward in the hope of reaching mountains. The night grew darker as the moon approached the horizon. As it became more difficult to see, Dar worried less about being seen. Instead, hunger occupied her thoughts. When they had traveled the hills, they had foraged during daylight. That would be too risky where people were about. Somehow, they would have to gather food at night. Nevertheless, Dar didn’t bother to search for food in any of the fields they passed, for it was too early in the planting season. The kitchen gardens about the huts were likely yielding their first greens, but the peasants would still be living off last year’s harvest. Robbing a larder would be dangerous, and Dar hoped an alternative would present itself.

When the eastern sky began to lighten, finding a place to hide became the most urgent problem. Dar scanned the landscape for a likely spot, but the moon had set and everything appeared as murky grays and blacks. She turned to Kovok-mah. “Washavokis will soon be about,” she whispered. “We must rest where they won’t find us.”

Kovok-mah sniffed the air. “Many washavokis come this way.”

Dar pointed toward a dark patch in the distance. “What lies there?”

“Trees,” replied Kovok-mah.

“Perhaps that place is good,” said Dar. She turned from the path and headed toward the shadowy patch. Struggling though high grass, she thought of her inadequacies.
I see poorly in the dark, and I can barely smell anything, day or night.
It wasn’t until Dar was halfway across the meadow that she could make out the trees ahead.