[Queen of Orcs 02] - Clan Daughter (32 page)

“Sevren, this isn’t your fight.”

“There are but two sides, and I can na go back to Taiben.”

“You can take neither side and leave.”

“On foot? Nay, I’ve made my choice. I’m yours if you’ll have me.”

“I could use your advice. I’ve seen little of war.”

Sevren smiled grimly. “And I’ve seen too much. You should know that the garrison was built as a cage, na as a stronghold. It lacks a well, and little food is stored there. In a siege, thirst and starvation favor the attackers.”

“How soon could an attack come?” asked Dar.

“There’s a regiment of foot that could reach here by late morning. Horse troops could arrive soon after. They’d suffice to pen you in the garrison until forces gather for a full assault.”

“So we should flee.”

“The king will na let you go unchallenged. Instead of running, take a strong position on a hill. Orcs are best in a head-on fight, something simple.”

Dar sighed. “I wanted to save the queen, not start a war.”

“You can win if the orcs fight to their advantage.” Then Sevren launched into an explanation of tactics, waving his hands in the air to represent opposing armies. Dar tried to follow his descriptions as best she could, but found it difficult to think of war abstractly. She was too intimate with its carnage to think of orcs and men as pieces in a game. War might be a game to kings, but they could watch in safety while others fought. Moreover, they had generals to guide their moves. Dar had only a guardsman. The orcs would be even less useful as strategists.

Despite her misgivings, Dar was prepared to give orders by the time the orcs neared the garrison. First, she halted them before the gates. “We will stay here just long enough to prepare for marching. All sons with capes, come speak with me.” She turned to Zna-yat. “Get my urkzimmuthi clothes for our queen, then join sons with capes.” She turned to Kovok-mah. “I’ll need your help also.”

Kovok-mah bowed. “Hai, Mother.”

Dar was about to enter the gates when Sevren tapped her on the shoulder. “You should post a watch,” he said in a low voice.

Dar hastily corrected her oversight. Then she had the queen carried to an empty barracks and ordered a fire to be built. As the room warmed, it began to fill with armored orcs. Garga-tok was among them. He had added many ears to the fringe of his cape since Dar had last seen it. When all the caped orcs had assembled, Dar turned to the queen. “Great Mother, do you have any words for these sons?”

“Listen to Dargu-yat’s wisdom,” said Muth Mauk. Then she hobbled over to the fire to warm her shaking hands.

All eyes turned toward Dar. For a moment, she felt overwhelmed. Then the press of circumstance forced her to speak. “Washavokis will fight. This place does not favor us in battle. Hilltop would be better. Tell those sons who follow you to hurry. When we march, washavoki mothers will join us. Honor them.”

The caped sons departed, leaving Zna-yat and Kovok-mah. “Zna-yat, watch over Muth Mauk and do whatever she needs. Kovok-mah, come with me.”

Dar strode toward the women’s building. “Remember how frightened I was when you first saw me?” she asked.

“Hai,” said Kovok-mah.

“Mothers here will be equally frightened. Some more so. I want them to see your goodness.”

“Do you still think I’m good?” asked Kovok-mah. “Are you not angry?”

“It was proper for you to obey your muthuri. I’m sad, not angry.”

“I’m sad also.”

Dar stopped before the women’s building. “Let’s make some mothers happy.” Dar unbarred the door and entered. Kovok-mah followed, and his presence hushed all the women inside. Dar addressed them in a loud voice. “All the soldiers are gone. Orcs now possess the camp.” A low, frightened murmur arose. “Now you have a choice. Your brands mark you as the king’s property. You can flee to him for use as he sees fit, or you can listen to me. I’ve learned orcs honor women and protect them. Soon, the orcs will leave this camp. If you join them, you’ll be safe and free.”

The room erupted in a din of voices. One called out, “How do we know the orcs won’t eat us?”

Dar shouted back. “Such tales are lies! Who among you survived this summer’s fighting?”

“I did,” shouted a woman.

“Tell them what happened,” shouted Dar.

“The soldiers left us to die. All my friends were slain.”

Still, the debate raged on. Finally Dar shouted, “You can wait here for the soldiers or you can leave with me now.” Then she led Kovok-mah outside and waited. About a dozen women emerged from the building, including the one who had survived the summer campaign. Dar waited for others to join them, but no more came.

When Dar realized that she could save only the few women before her, she grasped Kovok-mah’s hand. “This is Kovok-mah. He is kind and gentle. He speaks our language and will take care of you.” She turned to Kovok-mah. “Stay with these mothers and protect them.” Then she added, “Kaf tha sat therth, reefat pi Tahwee Ki.”
When you see them, think of Little Bird.

Kovok-mah bowed. “Ma lo.”
I will.

By early morning, Dar led the orcs from the garrison. In choosing their destination, she relied on an odd pair of counselors—Sevren and Garga-tok. Both favored a tall hill that overlooked the road to Taiben. It was sunny, but a chill north wind caused Dar to clutch her cloak about her. The garment was too large for her, having belonged up till that morning to an officer in the garrison. It bore a fresh bloodstain, but it was warm, and the mountain road would be snowy.

Dar marched at the head of the column alongside the queen’s litter. Zna-yat, Garga-tok, and Sevren accompanied her, along with two dozen seasoned fighters who served as guards. The remainder of the orcs marched as they had for the king—arranged in orderly shieldrons. The women walked in the middle of the column, wearing soldiers’ cloaks and guided by Kovok-mah.

As the orcs headed for high ground, a formation of foot soldiers appeared on the road to Taiben. The city’s gate opened and a mounted contingent of the royal guard, accompanied by two shieldrons of infantry, joined the approaching soldiers. The combined forces didn’t seem small to Dar. At first, she thought they would attack immediately, but they seemed reluctant to do so. The soldiers pursued the orcs, but slowly. Meanwhile, Dar quickened the march and the distance from the soldiers increased. This pleased her until she watched the king’s men change direction and move off at a forced march. Sevren observed this maneuver also, and his expression worried Dar. “What’s the matter?” she asked.

“I’ve been a fool,” said Sevren. “They’ll na face us on a hill. They’re going to take the pass and block our way home. We should attack before they’re in position.”

The queen spoke from her litter. “Grunat dati?”
Fight today?

“Hai, Great Mother,” replied Dar in Orcish. “This washavoki son is skilled in battles. He says we’d be wise to kill washavokis while they’re unready.”

“Sons don’t advise mothers,” said the queen in her own tongue. “There shall be no more killing today. More important things will happen.”

Dar had no choice but to obey her queen, although she questioned Muth Mauk’s thinking.
That battle will determine our fate. What could be more important?
Dar could think of nothing. Even if the queen wasn’t delusional, her decision was terrible strategy. It caused Dar to recall Murdant Teeg’s claim that orcs lost battles because they lacked guile.

“What did the queen just say?” Sevren asked.

“We’re going to the hilltop,” replied Dar. “There’ll be no fighting today.”

“That’s daft!” said Sevren. “We can overcome that force, but it’ll be reinforced soon. The pass is narrow and the enemy will occupy high ground. Remember the Vale of Pines?”

“I remember, but the queen’s made up her mind.” Dar softened her voice. “It’s still not too late to leave.”

“I’d rather stay with you.”

“Then you’re a fool.”

Sevren smiled ruefully. “That’s been said before.”

The orcs reached the hilltop by midmorning. Wind had swept most of the snow from its summit. Using stones, the orcs marked the Embrace of Muth la, then erected their shelters within it. Afterward, the camp grew peaceful. Some sons gathered wood for the women, who began cooking what little food there was. A few orcs stood guard, while the rest retreated to their shelters. Muth Mauk basked in the sun, despite the cold.

But Dar felt far from peaceful. The quietness of the orcs’ encampment contrasted with the activity of the king’s men. From the hilltop, Dar watched them prepare for battle. First, she observed the enemy troops make their way north to the pass. Before the last of them were hidden from view, cavalry appeared on the road, riding from the south. They headed for the pass also. Dar felt certain they would join the other soldiers soon.

Seeing the royal army’s skillful deployment gave Dar a sense of doom—a conviction that their journey home would be bloody and their chances diminished as time passed. Dar felt it was imperative to attack immediately, and she went to convince the queen to act. She found Muth Mauk still seated outside her shelter. The queen was shivering and her breathing was labored, yet she smiled. “Long has it been since I sat under Muth la’s golden eye and felt her breath.”

“You’ll have many days to do that,” said Dar. “You should get out of wind and cold.”

“Did Muth la send you visions of my many days?”

“Thwa, Auntie.”

“I thought not,” said the queen, “so I’ll enjoy this one.”

Dar bowed very low. “Muth Mauk, my thoughts are troubled. May I speak them?”

“Please do.”

“I think we should start home today. There are washavokis that will fight us, but fewer now than later.”

“That’s not important,” replied the queen.

“Forgive my rudeness, but how is that not important? You are our great mother. Muth la sent me to bring you home. Those washavokis will try to stop us.”

“And why need I go home?”

The question took Dar aback, and it was a moment before she replied. “Poison has made you sick. You need healing magic.”

“Dargu, I’ve received healing magic for many winters.” The queen smiled at Dar’s puzzlement. “Black Washavoki put it in my food each night.”

“Thwa. That was poison.”

“Black Washavoki poisoned me long ago. Since then, he has given me magic so I might live. That magic clouded my thoughts, but it kept me alive.” Muth Mauk read Dar’s stunned expression. “Hai, Dargu, I’ll die soon. Today, I think.”

Dar felt overwhelmed by guilt and despair. “Then I will have caused your death!” She knelt before the queen as tears welled in her eyes. “My chest bursts! I didn’t know. Please forgive me!”

“There’s nothing to forgive. I chose to die.”

Dar’s shock, sadness, and confusion were reduced to a single word—“Why?”

“I’m not important,” said the queen. “Before I was Muth Mauk, I was Zeta-yat. When I received Fathma from queen before me, I became Muth Mauk. Fathma is important, not I. It is spirit of urkzimmuthi. I endured living only so Fathma wouldn’t be lost, so I could pass it to you.”

“Why should I receive it?”

“Because Muth la chose you. Remember your vision of me? When I asked where you were, I was asking for mother to receive Fathma.”

“Thwa! Thwa! It can’t be me.”

“Dargu-yat, it must be you. I’m dying, and you’re only urkzimmuthi mother here. This is Muth la’s will, your purpose in life.” With shaking hands, Muth Mauk gently wiped the tears from Dar’s face. “Sit close to me. Let beauty of Muth la’s creation calm your chest.”

“Muth Mauk, I’m not ready.”

“No one is ready for life. We are simply born and start living. When you’re Muth Mauk, just follow your chest.”

“That was Velasa-pah’s guidance.”

Muth Mauk smiled. “Muth la’s also, I think.” Then the queen turned her face toward the sun.

Thirty-nine

When the sun was setting, Muth Mauk requested the orcs to assemble. Sevren and the women were invited to watch, although they couldn’t understand what was being said. The orcs sat encircling the queen, who stood gripping Dar to steady herself. Muth Mauk began by recounting how a child possessing Fathma had been born into the Yat clan. She told how that Fathma had been passed on from great mother to great mother, naming each. She ended with her own name.

“Fathma is Muth la’s gift to urkzimmuthi,” said Muth Mauk. “Mother who receives this spirit is closest to Muth la. Her words are wisdom and must be obeyed.”

“Hai, Muth Mauk,” said the orcs in unison.

“Soon Muth la will embrace me,” said the queen. “She has sent another mother to receive her gift. That mother is Dargu-yat.”

Dar expected some expression of surprise or protest, but she detected none in the solemn faces surrounding her. Dar knew what to do next. She cast off her cloak and stood bare-chested before Muth Mauk. Then the queen placed her hands above Dar’s breasts. “Let Fathma pass to Dargu-yat.”

The queen’s hands felt warm against Dar’s skin, and when Muth Mauk spoke, that warmth increased. Dar had thought the touching was purely ceremonial, but the sensation it caused was more than tactile. The warmth became transforming energy that spread throughout her body. Dar heard soft voices murmuring like leaves stirred by a gentle breeze. She glanced about, but the assembled orcs were still and silent. The murmuring grew louder, and Dar realized that memories, not sounds, echoed inside her head. Then the memories faded, and the night was quiet again. Dar felt different and knew she was different. The world remained the same, but she saw it through eyes that were both new and ancient. The gift she had received was greater than wisdom or power. It was love. Dar gazed at the orcs around her and knew they were her children. She cherished them as their mother—their great mother.