[Queen of Orcs 02] - Clan Daughter (31 page)

“Then mayhap it’s Karm’s doing. Mayhap Muth la and Karm are the same—something too great for minds to grasp. I understand nothing except how I feel.”

Dar grew quiet in Sevren’s arms, and it was a while before she spoke again. “Sevren, do you love me enough to save me? To save me, knowing you’ll lose me forever?”

“That’s a bitter bargain.”

“I can’t stay here. Kol will make trouble.”

“He’ll na harm you. I’ll see to that.”

“The mage is my greater enemy. What Kol has done will give me away.”

“Why would Blood Crow care about you?”

“I came here to take the orc queen home.”

Sevren sighed. “I see.” He was silent awhile. “Dar, I’d risk my life to save you, gladly too. But the orc queen’s another matter. It means going against the king.”

“I won’t leave without her. I made a promise I cannot break.”

“Will you die to keep it?”

“Yes. And I’ll die soon. Tomorrow, most likely.”

“Dar…” Sevren’s voice trailed off.

“Are there ways out of the palace and city besides guarded gates?”

“Aye, there are sally ports and other secret ways. Kol probably escaped through one tonight.”

“Do you know them?”

“Of course. I’m a guardsman. But showing them is treason.”

“No one need know,” said Dar. “The queen and I won’t be missed till dinnertime. By then, we’ll be long gone.”

“But the mage…”

“He can’t read minds. That’s only show. I know because I lied to his face and fooled him. And think of this: If the queen escapes, the king will lose his orc army.”

Sevren’s frown faded. “Then who’ll plunder temples for him? He’ll be hard put to find the men for such work.”

“So, will you help me?”

“Aye.” Sevren smiled ruefully. “Valamar was right about you.”

“How?”

“He said you’d bring trouble.”

“I won’t. At least, not to you. Just get me outside the walls, and the orcs will do the rest.” Dar kissed Sevren’s cheek. “Fu nat gatash min. You are worthy son.”

“When do you want to leave?”

“Tonight.”

Dar and Sevren waited until the moon had set before sneaking back into the kitchen. Dar put on her shoes and grabbed her old shift before leading Sevren to the queen’s chamber. The queen was asleep, sitting upright. Dar gently touched her shoulder. “Muth Mauk, mer nav Dargu-yat.” Then she switched to the human tongue for Sevren’s benefit. “This washavoki is friend. He will help us leave. We must be quiet and walk where washavokis will not see us.”

Muth Mauk rose and surprised Dar by asking if the shift was for her. Dar thought she would have to explain the purpose of a disguise, but it proved unnecessary. The queen donned Dar’s old shift, then hid her gold band within its folds. She was so withered, Dar’s clothes fit loosely. After the queen changed, Dar covered her tattoo with a mixture of flour and soot. She had already covered her own.

At Sevren’s insistence, Dar wore his dagger. Otherwise, she carried nothing for the journey. Haste was more important than food, water, or warm clothes. If she could reach the orcs, they would be provided. If she couldn’t, they would be unneeded.

Thirty-seven

The orc queen moved like an old woman, gripping Dar for support as she slowly descended the stairs. Every step took effort. Dar refrained from urging her to hurry, for she knew the queen was doing her utmost. Muth Mauk’s weakness had been less evident when she was confined to her chamber. Yet once her life depended on speed, the effects of her poisoning were starkly apparent. Dar feared it would be dawn before they reached the city walls.

Upon reaching level footing, Muth Mauk was able to move slightly faster. Sevren led her and Dar to the stables by a route that hugged the shadows. Eventually, they sneaked in a side door. The stables were dark, but Sevren knew the way. He entered a stall and moved boxes to uncover a small hole in the wall. “I’m afraid we’ll have to crawl. Can you manage, Your Majesty?”

“Hai,” mumbled the queen.

Sevren bowed to Muth Mauk, then entered the hole. Dar heard him crawl a short distance then whisper, “The way’s clear.”

Dar and the queen followed and were soon outside the palace walls, standing in a stable yard. Sevren led them into shadows before hiding the hole’s entrances. “Only guardsmen and their ladies know that way,” he said.

While Dar wondered how many women had followed Sevren through the hole, he entered a shed and returned with a two-wheeled manure cart. Then he bowed low to the queen. “This stinks, but it can carry you through the streets.”

The queen smiled. “Tonight, it is better to be fast than fragrant.”

Sevren lifted Muth Mauk into the cart, threw some hay over her, grabbed the cart’s handles, and began to push it as fast as he could without making a racket. Dar trotted alongside. As Sevren hurried through the winding streets, he looked anxiously at the sky. “Folk will be stirring soon.”

Eventually he reached an opening in the city’s thick outer wall. It was a narrow tunnel that was the same size as a doorway. A lit torch was set into its wall. Sevren approached it indirectly. “Someone’s inside,” he whispered. “Stay out of sight. Dar, I need the dagger.” Dar gave it to him, and Sevren hid the weapon in his jerkin before striding into the opening.

Braced against the wall, Dar could hear Sevren’s voice. “Yo there, watchman, King’s Guard here. Did someone pass this way tonight?”

“A murdant, sometime after midnight.”

“Why did you na stop him?”

“I knew him. He’s from the regiments.”

“That’s na excuse.”

“Don’t be tight-arsed. Since when do…” The man’s voice was cut short by a grunt followed by the sound of a body hitting the ground. The torch in the tunnel went out, and Sevren appeared. He handed Dar the dagger. “The way’s clear.”

Sevren had already opened the door at the tunnel’s far end. Dar spied the watchman’s corpse there. “You should leave now,” she said. “You’ve risked enough.”

Sevren hesitated.

“Go,” said Dar tenderly. “Ride south this spring. Buy your farm and forget me. I was just passing through.” She embraced Sevren and kissed him on the lips. When Dar led the queen outside the city’s walls, Sevren closed the door behind them.

There was a hint of morning in the sky, but the landscape was still dark and empty. Dar could make out the walls of the garrison and the hills beyond them, but little else. If Zna-yat was watching for her, he was too distant for her to spot. “Only little way farther,” said Dar.

“Good,” said Muth Mauk.

After the queen traveled a short distance, her breathing became labored. Soon, each breath was a rattling gasp. By then, the eastern sky was pink. Dar realized they could be seen from the city walls and their only hope lay in rescue by the orcs. She scanned the garrison for some sign of them but saw none. Suddenly Muth Mauk froze. “What is it?” asked Dar.

“Washavokis!”

Dar gazed about but saw nothing. “Are you sure?”

“They come from little building. Five are running. Another comes on horse.”

Dar heard hoofbeats and spied a man on horseback. He was still far off, but moving to circle around them and cut off retreat to the city. Apparently, he was unaware that the queen could barely walk. Dar assumed the horseman was Murdant Kol. Whether he had spotted her by dumb luck or by patient waiting made no difference, her fate was sealed. She halted and the hoofbeats slowed. Soon, Dar could make out soldiers on the road. They were jogging toward her. “Don’t be afraid, Auntie. They only want me. They’ll take you back to your room.”

“Thwa. I won’t return.”

“You must. You’re our great mother.”

Muth Mauk didn’t reply.

Dar watched the soldiers advance with a sense of dread and resignation. When the men were thirty paces away, they drew their swords. “Halt!” shouted one.

Dar wondered why he shouted, since both she and the queen hadn’t moved. Then Sevren sped past her, sword raised. He plunged into the advancing soldiers, blade swinging. Two fell almost immediately, and the deadliness of Sevren’s attack seemed to cow the remaining three. They fought so timidly that Sevren had the upper hand, despite being outnumbered. Another soldier fell, a leg nearly severed. The fourth soldier ran, spurring the remaining man to fight with desperate vigor.

Dar heard rapid hoofbeats and turned to see Murdant Kol riding Thunder and swirling his whip above his head. Bearing down upon them on his huge horse, he seemed unstoppable. Dar thought to warn Sevren, but realized that it would distract him in the midst of combat. Soon Kol would be within striking distance.
I must do something!
With no time to reflect, Dar acted on impulse. She drew the dagger Sevren had given her and threw it.

Kol was moving so swiftly that Dar had no idea if she hit him. She narrowly avoided being trampled. Then the whip fell from Kol’s hand as Thunder veered away from Sevren. The horse slowed and Dar saw the murdant pull the bloody dagger from his shoulder. He tossed it on the ground and reached for his sword. The blade was only partway drawn when Kol sheathed it. The action made Dar guess that Kol’s wound affected his sword arm. Instead of attacking, he spurred his mount toward the garrison. Sevren’s opponent glanced toward the retreating horsemen. It proved a fatal mistake.

Sevren was wiping the blood from his sword when Dar ran over to him. “Are you hurt?” she asked.

“One cut. ’Tis na deep.”

“Go! Go quickly before you’re seen!”

Sevren gazed up at the ramparts. “Too late for that.”

“Oh, Sevren, you were safe. Why did you…”

“I could na watch you die.”

“But Kol will bring more soldiers,” said Dar, realizing Sevren’s sacrifice would buy them only a little time. Already, Kol had nearly reached the gates of the garrison. They swung open as he approached.

Kol’s horse reared as orcs, not soldiers, poured from the gates. Perhaps because of his wound, Kol had trouble getting his mount under control. By the time he had Thunder turned around, an orc raced after him. Dar watched as the orc gained on the galloping horse and reached for its rider’s ankle. Then, with a show of heart, Thunder pulled away from the pursuer. The city’s gate was still closed and Murdant Kol headed his mount southward. Soon horse and rider were a diminishing speck in the distance. “Good riddance,” said Sevren, although he looked disappointed.

The orcs moved with amazing speed, and soon they knelt before their queen. Muth Mauk looked like a gnarled tree that had weathered a storm. In the rosy light of dawn she seemed radiant and filled with a strength that rose from a deeper source than her frail body. When she spoke, her voice was neither powerful nor loud, but commanding in its stillness. “I have returned,” she said in Orcish. “I fell under evil magic. My mind was clouded and my words were twisted. Dargu-yat saved me.” The queen had to pause to catch her breath. “I’m still weak from my ordeal. Dargu-yat will speak for me. Obey her as you would obey me.”

Dar gazed at the queen with surprise, but before she could speak, Zna-yat called out. “Dargu-yat, tell us what to do.”

Dar’s immediate impulse was to take refuge. “Return to walled camp.”
There
, she thought,
I can give the queen some proper clothes and free the branded women
. Dar pointed to Sevren. “This washavoki helped save queen. All other soldiers are our foes, but don’t kill them if they don’t attack.”

As the orcs headed back to the garrison, Dar had two of them carry the queen. Sevren asked what had happened. “The queen said I’m to speak for her,” said Dar. “I told them not to harm you and return to camp.”

“They should na stay there. In a siege, the king will have the advantage.”

“We have no desire to fight. All we want is to be left alone.”

“The king will give you na choice. Your orcs have rebelled. War has already begun.”

Thirty-eight

As Dar walked to the walled garrison, Sevren talked about their situation. “Time is on your side,” he said, “but only briefly. The king’s a wary man, so he keeps his generals in Taiben, but na his troops. He has his royal guard on hand, plus a few shieldrons of foot. That’s na enough to take on your orcs. He needs to summon more troops for that. But he assuredly will.”