[Queen of Orcs 01] - King's Property (28 page)

Dar felt less isolated when she served the orcs, for they often exchanged pleasantries. Some merely greeted her. Others made a point of calling her “mother.” Thomak-tok always made her smile by extravagantly praising the excellence of the bland porridge. Zna-yat never spoke.

After serving, Dar changed back into her shift and helped with the washing before going to Kovok-mah’s shelter. Twea was already there. Both she and Kovok-mah had been chewing washuthahi seeds. Dar could tell from the seeds’ distinctive odor, which permeated the shelter, and by the distracted look in Twea’s eyes. The girl exposed her black teeth in a manic smile and said, “Uthahi.”
Pretty
.

“You shouldn’t be chewing those now,” said Dar, feeling cross. “They’ll keep you up.” She felt like scolding Kovok-mah, but didn’t know the Orcish word for “spoiled.” Instead she said to him in his own language, “You chewed many seeds.”

“Hai.”

“It is not raining,” said Dar. “It is not cold. You have not marched. Why so many?”

“Sadness will come. I wish not to think of it.”

Dar regarded Kovok-mah. His massive hand gently stroked Twea’s thin back as the girl fidgeted in his lap. His green-gold eyes, which had once seemed so alien, held the same depth of sorrow that she sometimes caught in Sevren’s gaze. Both orc and man had witnessed war, and the seeing had left its mark. Dar’s irritation melted. She, also, didn’t wish to think of the future. “I would like some of those seeds,” she said.

It rained hard the next day and the one that followed. Dar and Twea’s herb gathering became only a pretext to spend the day with Sevren. He had found a sheltered spot where an overhang kept out most of the rain. Twea spent the hours watching Dar learn the basics of knife fighting. When she grew bored, Twea chewed a washuthahi seed. This new habit worried Dar, but she couldn’t bring herself to nag the girl.

The constant rain washed away all signs of the blood on Dar’s face, and she had no idea if its scent still lingered. Certainly, she couldn’t detect it. The idea that the “blood time” was over and Zna-yat was free to attack again gave urgency to her lessons. Sevren taught her the classic attacks and defenses, the most lethal striking points, how to stab and how to slash, and moves to prevent being disarmed. Toward the end of the second day, he began another lesson.

Leaving Twea beneath the overhang, Sevren walked Dar over to a tree and borrowed her dagger. “There is one time when you have an advantage over a swordsman,” he said. He threw the dagger into the tree’s trunk. “You can kill at a distance.” He pulled the weapon from the wood and gave it back to Dar. “But you gain that advantage at great risk. You only have one chance. Now, you try.”

Dar’s throw went wide and the dagger disappeared into the undergrowth. “Now you are defenseless,” said Sevren. “If that tree has a sword, it will slay you.”

“I think I can outrun it,” said Dar.

Sevren didn’t smile. “Throwing your dagger should be the last resort. ’Tis a desperate move.” He joined Dar as she searched for her weapon. “This is one skill you can practice on your own. Do na let anyone see you throw until you’re good. Then, show off. A reputation gives advantage.”

Sevren found the dagger and held it out. “I think ’tis time for my fee.”

“Your fee?” said Dar.

Sevren smiled. “Mine are costly lessons.”

Dar eyed Sevren warily, then grabbed the dagger from his hand. “How costly?”

“A kiss will settle your account.”

“I’ve none to give,” said Dar, more abruptly than she intended.

Sevren tried to mask his embarrassment with a grin. “Perhaps, one day, you’ll discover one and remember your debt.”

Dar said nothing, but walked close to the tree and threw her dagger. It struck the wood, but didn’t stick. She picked it up and tried again.

Dar kept silently practicing in the rain. Eventually, Sevren tired of watching her and joined Twea beneath the overhang.

The next morning was fair. Sevren met Dar and Twea before they reached the kitchen tent. “Twea,” he said, “go see Davot. I need to speak to Dar.”

Dar motioned to Twea that she should go, then looked at Sevren. “What’s this about?”

“I can na go with you today,” said Sevren. “I may na see you for a while. War has begun.”

The news brought a chill to Dar’s stomach. “So my lessons are ended?”

“I’ll try to see you when I can,” said Sevren. Then he added, “If that would please you.” When Dar simply shrugged, he sighed. “You do na like me.”

“It’s not that. It’s just…I’ve had bad times with men.”

“You serve with scum, but I’m na like them.”

“I know.”

“If Karm favors us, we’ll get through this and winter in Taiben. When the snows melt, I’ll head for Averen. I’ll take you with me, if you’ll come. Your brand will na doom you there.”

“I couldn’t leave Twea.”

“I’ll take her, too.”

Dar looked at Sevren suspiciously. “And in Averen, I’d be your woman?”

“You’d be whatever you choose.”

“I don’t know,” said Dar.

“Do na tell me you want to stay!”

“I loved my father. I trusted him. Then, when I was sixteen, my mother died and he…” Dar looked away. “…he betrayed me. I’ve only known you a few days.”

“You do na have to say aye or nay,” said Sevren. “You can wait till spring.”

“Then, why ask me now?”

“I know what lies ahead,” said Sevren. “You’ll want a reason to live.”

Thirty-three

Dar found Twea standing outside the kitchen tent, which was being dismantled. “Davot said we’re to go back to the regiment,” said Twea.

Dar tried not to show the dread she felt. As she walked with Twea through camp to report to Neffa, she saw that a sudden change had taken place. There was much more activity than usual, and it was accompanied by an air of tension. Murdants cursed louder. Soldiers looked grimmer. Tents collapsed and disappeared. Wagons grew full.

Dar and Twea passed a wagon that was already hitched to oxen. It was mired in mud and two soldiers, directed by a murdant, were trying to push it free. “By Karm’s dirty feet,” cursed one soldier, “why move out after rains?”

“Because the mage says it’s propitious,” said his murdant.

“Pro-pissy-ass?” replied the soldier. “What’s that?”

“It means the road’s turned to shit,” said the other soldier.

“If you don’t like it,” said the murdant, “go tell Blood Crow he’s wrong.”

The first soldier laughed. “Just give me your stuff before you go.”

“Cursed sorcerers!” said the second soldier as he kept on pushing.

Dar hurried Twea along, afraid the murdant would make them help the soldiers.

Neffa was more harried than usual when Dar and Twea reported to her. “Help load,” she barked. “Move it!”

“When are we going?” asked Dar.

“I’ll give you orders,” said Neffa, casting a wary eye toward Neena, “but I’ll tell you nothing.”

Dar also glanced at Neena. The other women were rushing to break camp and load the wagons; only Neena moved leisurely. Apparently, her new status as Murdant Kol’s woman shielded her from Neffa’s wrath.

Dar and Twea enjoyed no such protection, and they did whatever they were told. As Dar worked, it became clear that the order to move out was a surprise to everyone and the surrounding chaos was the result. Only the orcs seemed organized. They donned their armor, rolled up their shelters, fixed them to their backs, dismantled Muth la’s Embrace, and formed orderly ranks long before the wagons were ready to roll.

The regiment hit the road before noon. With war commenced in earnest, the order of march was different. Orcs formed the spearhead of the invasion. Human officers no longer led the column, but rode alongside it on horseback. There were eleven orc regiments in all, well over two thousand orcs. They marched as shieldrons—squares six orcs wide and six orcs deep.

Behind this deadly force followed its baggage train—wagons with soldiers and women trailing after them. In contrast to the orcs, the baggage train moved as a disorganized mass, with wagons and personnel from different regiments mingled together. Confusion reigned.

The remainder of the army brought up the rear, and it was more disciplined. The foot soldiers moved almost as smartly as the orcs. Calvary squadrons scouted the countryside or patrolled the army’s flanks. The king came last, with his guardsmen protecting him and carrying messages.

With the orcs marching in battle formation, Dar and Twea were forced to walk in the baggage train. It was High Murdant Kol’s domain, since the officers rode alongside the orcs. To Dar’s dismay, she discovered that—like the Queen’s Man—his authority extended over all the regiments. Thus, she found no refuge among strangers. Their looks and muttered comments reflected their hostility. Evidently, Kol had fanned it while Dar served in the royal compound. As she slogged down the muddy road, Kovok-mah seemed as far away as Murdant Kol seemed close. Dar felt as if Kol had slipped a noose around her neck to tighten when the time was ripe.

Dar tried to distract herself from this ominous feeling by examining the countryside. Her viewpoint was different from what it had been on her previous marches. This time, she was part of a huge army and she saw things from the midst of a mob. The orcs blocked sight of the road ahead, and the trailing troops obscured what lay behind. Often, Dar couldn’t even see the opposite side of the road. What little scenery she glimpsed bore the marks of earlier conflicts. The deserted fields were going wild, and nothing made by human hands was unmarred. All the buildings she passed were burned ruins. The only signs of their inhabitants were bones lying by the roadside, still dressed in weathering rags.

The landscape had been altered by death, and it had death’s stillness. Yet the absence of the enemy heightened, rather than calmed, Dar’s anxiety. The effect seemed universal. Everyone was edgy. Dar saw it in the soldiers’ eyes and the frenetic riding of the scouts. Dar felt as she had when waiting for the lash to strike—the question was not if there’d be a blow, but when.

The tread of so many orcs churned the wet road until it was a morass. When the wagons bogged down, Dar, and even Twea, were pressed to help push them. Soon the march became mindless drudgery, which dulled Dar’s apprehensions. By the time the army halted its march for the day, she was caked with mud and exhausted. Twea moved as if in a trance.

The women, tired as they were, had to set up camp and prepare porridge. When it was time to serve the orcs, bathing was cursory. The water in the small basin quickly turned muddy, but it wasn’t changed. When the women returned from serving, few bothered to wash their robes before staggering off to sleep. Dar made the effort, then returned to the Embrace of Muth la and found Kovok-mah’s shelter. Twea was sound asleep and Kovok-mah was also. Dar quickly joined them.

As Murdants Teeg and Kol walked through the darkening camp, it was quiet. Only sentries moved about. Teeg smiled appreciatively at the scene. “It’s good to be campaignin’ again.”

“Yes,” said Kol. “A man grows stale in camp.”

“And poor,” said Teeg. “I could do with some loot.

You’re privy with the Queen’s Man, when’s the first chance for plunder?”

“We’re headed for a small town,” said Kol. “It’s two days off.”

“Walled?”

“Nothing the piss eyes can’t handle. I don’t think there’ll be a siege.”

“Quick is best,” said Teeg. “It means full larders and plump women. When I tup, I like a bit of cushion.”

Kol merely grunted.

“Ye don’t seem fond of bony bitches yerself,” said Teeg. “Ye seldom use yer woman.”

“I use her all the time,” said Kol. “She’s the one that told me about Memni.”

“That was a proud bit of work,” said Teeg. “The bitches have hopped to it ever since.”

“They need an example every once in a while, and I wanted the practice.”

“For what? The weasel?”

Kol smiled. “Her day is coming.”

“What about the piss eye?”

“Soon he’ll be no problem,” said Kol.

“How come?”

“This campaign will be different from the last. More than raiding.”

“How’d ye know that?”

“The mage’s auguries. Expect a battle. A big one.”

“So? What does that have to do with the piss eye?”

“He and his friends will serve as bait,” said Kol, “and you know what happens to bait.”

“Why would the king forsake his piss eyes?” asked Teeg. “They’re mighty handy.”

“He can get more,” said Kol. “After all, he holds their queen.”

“I’m a simple man,” said Teeg. “Such cleverness hurts my head.”

The two men reached their tent and found Neena asleep upon Kol’s bedroll. “Well, she’s a cheeky slut,” said Teeg, “comin’ in without yer leave.”

“She probably has some information,” said Kol. “I told her to keep an eye on Dar.”

Teeg eyed the sleeping woman. “Ye plan on pokin’ her t’night?”

A sardonic smile came to Kol’s lips. “Why do you ask?”

“Knowin’ ye, she’ll go to waste,” said Teeg. “But since there’s naught to drink, I could use a tup.”

“I thought you disliked bony women.”

“I’m a practical dog,” said Teeg. “If I can’t have meat, I’ll make glad with a bone.”