[Queen of Orcs 02] - Clan Daughter (24 page)

“Dargu,” said Muth-yat. “I have no idea what you’ll find and can give you little advice or help. I’ll tell sons of our clan to aid you, but rely on your own wisdom. When in doubt, follow your chest.”

Dar thanked the matriarch and an awkward silence followed until Muth-yat told Dar to prepare for her journey. Dar left carrying the bundle of clothes and wondering if she had been manipulated. Nevertheless, she was resolved to go to Taiben. Only there could she expose King Kregant’s treachery, and only there would she be with Kovok-mah.

Dar didn’t directly return to Zor-yat’s hanmuthi. Instead she went outside to soil her washavoki clothing. The terraced fields looked as desolate as the mountains beyond. Dar shivered, more at the prospect of the days ahead than from the cold. Tossing the clothes on the ground, she began to step on them.

Zna-yat approached. “I hear we’re going to Taiben.”

Dar stopped grinding her shift into the dirt. “Our clan sent you to kill?”

“Thwa. Have you forgotten that you bit my neck?”

“You need not come.”

“If you think that, you’re mistaken. My life is tied to yours.”

“I won’t need your protection. Kovok-mah will be there.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Why wouldn’t he be?”

“Never before have sons been called to Taiben this time of year,” replied Zna-yat. “Washavokis like to kill when it’s warm. Something strange is happening.”

“What?”

“I have no idea, but I think you shouldn’t go.”

“I have to, Zna-yat. Only I can do what must be done.”

“Our muthuri and her sister are behind this, aren’t they?”

“Hai. Do you question their wisdom?”

“They are wise,” said Zna-yat. “Yet, what is best for clan may not be best for you.”

“I’m frightened, but I’ve made up my mind. Don’t frighten me more.”

Zna-yat bowed his head and said no more, though Dar sensed he wished to. He left soon afterward, and Dar finished soiling her garments alone.

Zna-yat had to obtain armor and a reed shelter, and this delayed Dar’s departure a day. She imagined that the journey to Taiben would be a long one and was surprised to learn they would reach King Kregant’s capital in two days if the weather held. It was frigid and the sky threatened snow when they set out in the early morning. Zna-yat walked beside Dar, swathed in iron, his breath whitening his helmet as it froze. Seven other orcs accompanied him as part of the clan’s quota for the army. Good-byes had been said inside the warm hall, but Nir-yat and Thir-yat waved at Dar from a window. Dar waved back for as long as she could see them.

The road was called the New Road, though it had been built in King Kregant’s grandfather’s time. Constructed to encourage trade, the route cut through a steep ridge that had formerly kept the orcs isolated. The road was less traveled than in earlier days, but it remained in good shape. A messenger on horseback could travel between Taiben and the Yat clan hall in a single day, although it had been years since one had done so. During the current king’s reign, mainly orc soldiers used the road. Far more went to Taiben than returned.

Owing to the cold, Dar still wore orcish clothing. Her kefs and neva were made of thick, warm wool, as was her hooded cloak. Dar’s boots had belonged to an orc child and had bulbous toes to accommodate claws. Thus out-fitted, Dar was comfortable as she solemnly marched with her kin. There was no banter, for everyone’s thoughts dwelled on battle. While only Dar and Zna-yat had witnessed war, the others had heard grim tales.

The party camped for the night inside the passage cut into the ridge. Although it was the highest point on the road, its walls offered shelter from the wind. Within its confines, Dar slept bundled in her cloak. As evening approached on the following day, they spied Taiben from a hilltop and stopped to gaze at the city. It crowned the only high place on the plain below. The city’s walls seemed to squeeze its buildings into a confusing jumble. The royal palace dominated the cityscape—a fortress within a fortress—with high walls that sprouted towers.

Zna-yat pointed to the orc garrison. It lay outside the city, enclosed by a separate wall that Dar had expected to be circular. It was not. “Where is Embrace of Muth la?” she asked.

“Each barracks is one,” replied Zna-yat.

Dar noted that almost all the buildings within the garrison’s walls were circular. There were many dozens, packed close together in long rows. “And washavoki soldiers move among them?”

“Hai, but they dwell in Taiben. Only washavoki mothers live in camp.”

Trapped inside
, Dar thought. She studied the gated garrison. Human soldiers paced atop its walls. Even from a distance, it resembled a prison.

Twenty-eight

Dar arrived at the garrison on Zna-yat’s back, hidden in his rolled-up shelter. Unable to see, she relied on other senses to tell her what was happening. Dar assumed they were at the gate when Zna-yat halted and she heard a human voice. “What clan you?” it asked in abominable Orcish.

“Yat,” replied Zna-yat.

“More come?” asked the voice.

“Thwa,” replied Zna-yat.

“Follow this one. It show house,” said the voice before switching to human speech. “Murdant, take the piss eyes to barracks seventeen. Have women bring them supper.”

“Aye, sir,” said a second voice.

Dar heard hinges creak; then Zna-yat began to move again. He walked awhile before lifting the shelter from his shoulders. Dar remained within her hiding place while the orcs settled in. Then she heard Zna-yat’s voice boom out. “Gather round! I have brought someone with me.” The shelter was unrolled. Dar sat up, still dressed in her orcish clothes, and gazed about the room. Over two dozen astonished orcs stared at her. Dar rose to greet them and assert her authority. “I am Dargu-yat,” she said in Orcish, “reborn urkzimmuthi by ancient magic. My muthuri is Zor-yat, sister of queen.”

Zna-yat spoke next. “I am Zna-yat, her brother.” He gestured toward his companions. “These sons are Dargu-yat’s clan kin.”

Whether it was Dar’s bearing, the tattoo on her chin, her fluent Orcish, the presence of her kin, or a combination of all these things, the strangers treated her with deference. They bowed and returned the greetings. These formalities were interrupted when Zna-yat, who had been keeping watch, warned that washavokis were approaching. Dar hid just before the hide flap on the doorway moved aside and two women entered the barracks to serve porridge to the new arrivals. After the women left, Dar emerged from hiding to explain her actions. “I hid because washavokis lack sense,” she said. “They wouldn’t understand I’m urkzimmuthi. They would try to prevent me from seeing my aunt, though it’s Muth la’s will that we speak together.”

An orc bowed low to Dar. “Pardon me, Dargu-yat, but our queen will only speak to sons.”

“Her sisters think evil magic forces her to say that. I was sent to discover if that is so.”

“How will you do that?” asked another orc.

“I don’t know yet.”

“We know one thing,” said Zna-yat. “No washavoki should see Dargu-yat.”

“But they’re everywhere,” said an orc.

“Do they come inside this room?” asked Dar.

“Only woe mans. They bring food and firewood.”

“Set guard,” said Dar. “Warn me whenever they approach.”

An orc wearing a leader’s cape bowed to Dar, then posted a sentry by the doorway.

I should be safe within here
, thought Dar as she gazed about. The building’s single room was just large enough to accommodate three dozen orcs and their equipment. Though built by men, it resembled a hanmuthi. Circular walls marked the Embrace of Muth la, and a hearth was in its center. Because orcs slept sitting upright, the barracks was only twelve paces in diameter, and its occupants’ massive bodies filled most of it. It would be a small refuge.

Outside were numerous other barracks, enough to accommodate many hundreds of orcs. Surrounding the barracks were high walls with a stout gate and washavoki soldiers. Dar’s impression that the camp was a prison returned, and she regretted coming. Her task seemed overwhelming.
I was such a fool. How will I ever see the queen?
Even finding Kovok-mah seemed daunting. For all Dar knew, soldiers would capture her the instant she left the barracks. She felt trapped and teetered on the brink of panic.

Zna-yat must have smelled her fear, for he moved close to her. “Dargu, all sons here will help you.”

Zna-yat’s words reminded Dar that she need not do everything herself.
I’m a mother. I can lead, and I’m surrounded by strength and loyalty.
Bearing that in mind made her prospects seem less bleak. “Tomorrow, spread word among urkzimmuthi that I am here,” she told Zna-yat. “Also find Kovok-mah.”

“I’ll do these things,” said Zna-yat. “Now are you glad I came?”

Dar smiled slightly, exposing teeth that had begun to fade to white. “I was wise to bite your neck.”

The following morning, Dar spoke with Magtha-jan. He wore a leader’s cape because he had fought before. “Did you fight this summer?” asked Dar. “Were you at battle in valley of pines?”

Magtha-jan grimaced. “Hai, I was there.”

“I was also.”

Magtha-jan stared at Dar with the amazement of sudden recognition. “You were Muth Velavash! You blessed sons before battles.”

“I did.”

“Did you bless sons before battle in valley of pines?”

“Hai. Afterward, I led them home.”

Magtha-jan made the sign of the Tree. “Mother, I’m glad Muth la sent you. I want to return home and kill no more.”

“Magtha-jan, I don’t know where my path will lead. Yet I hope your wish can be fulfilled.”

Through her conversation Dar learned what happened after she deserted. Magtha-jan described how he survived the ambush and fought his way to the valley’s entrance. There, he helped King Kregant’s men repulse a series of attacks that left both sides mauled. Eventually, the enemy withdrew, and Kregant’s remaining forces retreated. Magtha-jan had believed they were marching home until the army changed course and the orcs were ordered to attack a “washavoki holy place.” Despite their small numbers, they took it easily. After soldiers “filled many wagons,” the army headed homeward.

When Magtha-jan arrived at Taiben, he wasn’t sent home. Instead, the queen ordered all orcs to remain at the garrison. It was nearly empty at first, because so few had survived the campaign. Since then, the garrison had been filling up as the clans sent sons to replenish the empty ranks. New regiments were forming, and some shieldrons had already seen action. Magtha-jan knew that they had killed some washavokis, but nothing else.

Dar learned little about the doings of the king’s human soldiers, because Magtha-jan avoided washavokis whenever possible. Within the garrison, his sole contact was with the branded women who served food and brought fuel. Magtha-jan said orcs occasionally entered the palace to receive orders from their queen, but he had never done so. Few made those visits, which were both rare and brief. Otherwise, no orc set foot inside Taiben. Neither did they leave the garrison except to fight.

After speaking with Magtha-jan, Dar worried the orcs would be less useful than she had hoped. King Kregant seemed careful to isolate them from their queen and also from himself. He was aided by the orcs’ disdain for washavokis. Once again, her task seemed impossible.

“I’ve found Kovok-mah,” said Zna-yat when he returned.

Dar’s heart leaped at the news. “Where? Did you speak with him?”

“Only briefly. I told him you were here. He asks if you will see him.”

“Hai! Hai! Hai! I’ll go right now.”

“That would be unsafe. There are washavokis everywhere.”

“Then how can we meet?”

“He said wait until night. After washavokis lock woe mans in hall, most of them leave. There is empty barracks nearby. He’ll be there.”

After Zna-yat pointed out the barracks, there was nothing for Dar to do but wait. She was alone all afternoon while the orcs had weapon practice. Most of the newcomers had never wielded a sword or battle-ax and had to learn the skill. Dar hid among the piled shelters while they were gone and watched from the same place as terrified women served the evening porridge. They all appeared recently branded, and Dar recognized none of them. Dar ate after they left, then continued to wait for dark.

When twilight left the sky, Dar crept from the barracks. The moon had yet to rise. Dar had changed into her washavoki shift, hidden her dagger under it, and reluctantly abandoned her warm orcish boots. As the cold ground chilled Dar’s bare feet, she peered about to get her bearings. The barracks were rows of black shapes, barely distinguishable in the darkness. Dar cautiously made her way toward the one where Kovok-mah waited. The silent garrison seemed deserted until Dar spied movement on the surrounding wall.
A guard
, she thought, wondering why one was needed.
What’s he guarding against? Attack? Escape? Both?
Whatever his purpose, he was alone and didn’t seem a threat.

Dar reached the empty barracks. Its doorless opening was a patch of black. She stepped into the dark room and saw the pale light of two green eyes. She moved toward them. “Kovok?” she whispered.