[Queen of Orcs 02] - Clan Daughter (18 page)

“They’re covered with sand ice,” replied Zna-yat, “so rooms are filled with light, yet warm. You’ll like it here, Dargu.”

Dar gestured agreement, though she actually doubted it. Having spent her life in a one-room hut, she suspected she would feel out of place in such a grand hall. She trudged up the road with growing apprehension until she reached the hall’s arched entrance. It contained a pair of large doors with elaborate, decorative hinges. Two sons who wore no armor and bore no weapons opened it on their approach. A young mother stood inside the doorway and addressed Zna-yat in Orcish. “Brother! I thought I’d never see you again!”

“I’m here due to this mother,” replied Zna-yat, bowing toward Dar.

“Our muthuri wishes to greet this one,” said Zna-yat’s sister. “Lead it…Lead
her
to our hanmuthi.”

Dar said nothing. She followed Zna-yat and his sister down a long hallway, which was illuminated from above by sand ice skylights. The hall curved like a wiggling snake, and Dar assumed each turn marked the outer wall of a different hanmuthi. That meant the hanmuthi of Zna-yat’s muthuri was the fourth one inside the hall. Its entrance was a stone archway carved to resemble trees with interlocking branches. The stonework, though impressive, lacked the finesse of the carvings in Tarathank.

A short hallway led to a circular room with a raised hearth in its center and a copper chimney that extended from the ceiling. Arches pierced the room’s outer wall. Most of these were doorways to adjoining chambers, but three were windows with panes of sand ice. The windows amazed Dar so much, she didn’t notice the mother seated on a carved wooden stool until she spoke. “Greetings,” said the mother in the human tongue. “I am Zor-yat. Zna-yat is my son.”

Dar bowed. “Mer nav Dargu,” she said. “Mer pahav Pahmuthi.”
I am Dargu. I speak Orcish.

“You speak it well,” replied Zor-yat in Orcish. She continued in the same language. “I hear you saved my son.”

“Hai. I believe it was Muth la’s will.”

“Perhaps it was,” said Zor-yat. “Yet it was your deed.” She bowed. “You’ll always have place here.”

Dar bowed more deeply than Zor-yat. “Shashav, Mother.”

Zor-yat nodded toward Zna-yat’s sister. “This is Nir-yat, who is yet unblessed. She’ll make you welcome.”

The introduction was evidently the signal for Nir-yat to lead Dar away, which she did. Dar followed her through one of the doorways and down a long hallway to a small, unfurnished chamber. One wall featured a window similar to the ones in the hanmuthi, but smaller. “We’ll share this chamber,” said Nir-yat, who didn’t look happy about it.

“It’s so beautiful!” said Dar, trying to appear appreciative. Being far from the hearth, the room was chilly despite the sunlight streaming in from the window. Already, she was tempted to adjust her kefs so one of the capes covered her chest. Yet because Nir-yat remained bare-breasted, Dar did also. She continued to praise the room. “I’ve never seen such floor,” she said, pointing to the mosaics that decorated it and marked Muth la’s Embrace. “It’s like walking on flowers.” As Dar stepped over to examine the window, two sons entered the room. One bore a wooden chest under each arm. The second carried a rolled-up mat and iron cube with perforated sides, metal feet, and an insulated handle. Embers glowed inside it, warming the room.

“Muthuri says your kind sleeps lying down,” said Nir-yat. “She has ordered thing called ‘bed’ to be made for you. It will arrive before night.”

“Your muthuri is both wise and gracious,” replied Dar.

“Perhaps you wish to bathe now.”

Dar nearly smiled at Nir-yat’s transparency.
Poor thing
, she thought,
stuck with a smelly washavoki.
“Hai. I’d like that very much.”

While Dar washed, Zor-yat interrogated her son. “You left to slay washavokis,” she said. “Now you bring one to our hall. Why?”

Though Zna-yat towered over his muthuri, her scornful gaze intimidated him. “She’s here by Muth la’s will.”

“Muth la’s will! What do
you
know of such matters?”

“Twice I tried to kill Dargu. Once, I threw her in river and watched her sink. Yet tree pulled her from water.”

“Not every tree is Muth la.”

“I came to think this also,” replied Zna-yat, “so I sought her death again. Yet Dargu foresaw my own death and prevented it. She slew washavokis so I might live.”

“It slew its own kind?”

“
Her
own kind, Muthuri. Take care how you speak. Dargu has bitten my neck.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“Because I can serve both you and her. She’s not our enemy.”

“Have you learned nothing about washavokis?”

“Dargu is different. Muth la sends her visions. I think Dargu was sent to aid us. Already, she has led sons through many dangers and risked her life on our behalf. She also spoke with Velasa-pah and entered darkness to guide Muth-pah.”

Zor-yat started at the mention of Velasa-pah, but she regained her composure before her son noticed. “Guiding Muth-pah accomplished nothing. Her clan is lost and will remain so.”

“Dargu caused them to change their ways,” replied Zna-yat. “Doesn’t that show Muth la’s hand at work?”

“You speak of matters beyond your knowledge. Keep silent, lest your foolish tales stir up trouble.”

Zna-yat bowed his head submissively.

“Everything you say surprises me,” said Zor-yat. She took her time before making a judgment. “Perhaps you’ve acted wisely,” she said at last. “This washavoki has bitten your neck, so I’ll honor your obligation. I don’t yet know what honor Dargu merits. Maybe none.”

“Much,” said Zna-yat.

Zor-yat curled back her lips. “You grow bold in her behalf.” She flashed her son a knowing look. “Already, you keep things from me.”

Zna-yat looked away.

“Soon, I’ll bring Dargu before my sister,” said Zor-yat. “Afterward, we’ll decide this washavoki’s fate.”

Knowing that he had made Dar’s case as forcefully as he dared, Zna-yat bowed to his muthuri and left the room.

Twenty

Dar gazed listlessly out the window of her room, wondering what her place would be in the community beyond it.
If I’m to have one.
All Dar knew was that whoever was making that decision was taking her time. Already Dar had been waiting for two days.

Nir-yat interrupted Dar’s musings with yet another question. “How did you learn speech of mothers?”

“One son taught me.”

“Why?”

“Because I asked him.”

“But why would he agree?”

“I think I amused him,” said Dar. She smiled. “He said I was fierce.”

Nir-yat’s expression underwent a subtle transformation. “Who was this son?”

“Someone from another clan,” said Dar, suspecting her scent had betrayed her feelings. “We have parted.”

Nir-yat didn’t press the matter, but Dar worried that she already had revealed too much. “What’s going to happen to me?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Muth-yat will decide.”

“Do you know when?”

“Whenever she’s ready. Meanwhile, I’ll keep you company.”

To learn everything you can
, thought Dar. She had quickly figured out that Nir-yat was a spy, though not a skilled one. Like most orcs Dar had encountered, the young mother asked questions directly, and Dar supposed Nir-yat wouldn’t deny that she passed on the answers. Dar’s situation was complicated by the fact that Nir-yat was her only source of information, for the two were kept isolated. Normally, sleeping chambers adjoined the hanmuthi and meals were eaten communally; yet Dar and Nir-yat seldom left their room. Even when they bathed, they used a basin, not the communal pool.

Through conversations with Nir-yat, Dar began to form a picture of life in the Yat clan hall. Much of it was similar to that in any orc settlement. The principal difference was the Yat clan was the governing clan. Matriarchs of the other clans met in the hall to receive guidance from the queen. They still did, although the queen resided in Taiben, recovering from a mysterious malady. Dar was surprised to learn the queen lived among the washavokis. Although Kovok-mah had said she received “strong healing magic” from them, Dar had assumed it was a cure, not ongoing treatment. Since the queen’s relocation, edicts arrived via sons who served in the orc regiments.

Dar was also surprised to learn the queen was Zor-yat’s sister, as was Muth-yat, the Yat clan matriarch. From her travels, Dar assumed that the oldest mothers always held the highest standing, and she didn’t expect mothers in their middle years to rule a clan. Nir-yat explained why they did, but her explanation was sketchy. It involved something called “Fathma,” which Dar imagined was an attribute similar to charisma.

The Yat clan had other halls besides the one Dar was staying in. All the eastern clans were large and spread out. Only the “lost” Pah clan occupied a single hall. Nir-yat spoke of them dismissively as an expiring relic fixated on the past. “They still believe Velasa-pah’s prophecies,” she said. “Though none have ever come to pass.”

“What prophecies are those?” asked Dar.

Nir-yat hissed. “Predictions history proved wrong. Only lorekeepers remember them now.”

As her isolation dragged on, Dar became convinced that Muth-yat would see her only when she felt adequately informed. Thus, Dar answered all questions truthfully—if not always completely—and volunteered additional information. Yet she chose not to reveal her feelings for Kovok-mah, or even mention him, until she knew how those feelings would be received.

In time, Nir-yat’s disdain dissipated. Dar’s accounts of hardship and peril fascinated the young mother, who never tired of hearing about her brother’s rescue. On the fourth morning, Nir-yat gently stroked Dar’s scarred ankle during a retelling of the fight with Zna-yat’s captors. In a voice filled with compassion, Nir-yat said, “How could washavokis treat one mother so?” At that moment, Dar realized she had won Nir-yat over. Later, Nir-yat left and didn’t return until late afternoon.

Shortly afterward, Dar was called before Muth-yat. The matriarch was seated in a room of special magnificence. It was circular, like a hanmuthi, but there was no hearth in its center. Instead, there was an elevated stone seat. Though it lacked a back or arms, its size and the richness of its carvings convinced Dar that it was a throne. All the arches in the room’s wall contained windows, which offered a view of the surrounding mountains.

Muth-yat was seated on a stool at the throne’s base. Zor-yat sat close by. Dar could tell the two mothers were sisters; both possessed similar features and imposing bearings. After Dar’s escort left the room, the matriarch nodded her head. “I am Muth-yat.”

Dar bowed deeply. “I’m Dargu.”

“I know of your deeds and how you came to bite my sister’s son’s neck,” said Muth-yat. “Now, we shall speak of deeper things.” With that, she launched her interrogation. Nir-yat had told Muth-yat everything, so the matriarch’s questions were very specific. Most of them concerned four events: Dar’s dream of the mage trying to find her as she hid beneath a veil of leaves; her vision of the urkzimmuthi mother by the hedge; her encounter with Velasa-pah; and the time Dar entered darkness with Muth-pah. Both the matriarch and her sister grilled Dar until the sun set and the room grew dark. Finally, the questioning was over. Muth-yat clapped her hands and a son entered the room. “Dargu is finished here,” she said. “Take her back to her room.”

Dar bowed and left no wiser about her fate.

After Dar departed, Zor-yat turned to her sister. “What do you think?”

“Washavokis often speak words without meaning, tales they call ‘lies,’” said Muth-yat, “but I don’t believe Dargu spoke them.”

“Are you sure?” asked Zor-yat. “How could she have met Velasa-pah? That sounds like lie.”

“It’s too improbable to be good lie, and washavokis are skillful at creating such tales.”

“So if she met him, does that mean his prophecy is coming true?”

“Velasa-pah spoke to Dargu about mage, not fate of clans,” said Muth-yat. “Besides, nothing in his prophecy has ever come to pass, nor is anything likely to.”

“Your words put me at ease. Still, I think Dargu is hiding something.”

“I agree,” said Muth-yat, “and it’s something important.”

“Do you think it’s meaning of her visions?”

“Thwa. She doesn’t understand them,” said Muth-yat. “She doesn’t even know she saw our queen.”

“When our sister asked ‘Where are you?’ do you think she was speaking to Dargu?”

“Most likely. Otherwise, why would Dargu have visions of mage?”

“I see your meaning,” said Zor-yat. “Mage holds our queen, and Velasa-pah said mage was Dargu’s enemy.”

“Hai, but Dargu didn’t understand,” said Muth-yat. “She doesn’t know mage listens to bones.”

“Velasa-pah said bones were her greater enemy,” said Zor-yat.

“I think he meant bones could detect her.”

“Detect her doing what?”

“I’m not yet sure,” replied the matriarch. “I’m certain of only one thing: If mage is Dargu’s enemy, then she’s our friend. I think Muth la has sent us Dargu to be our tool. We must take care how we use her.”

“Do you have plan?”