[Queen of Orcs 01] - King's Property (23 page)

The water Dar carried ended up, warmed and scented with herbs, in the Queen’s Man’s bath. General Tarkum disliked bathing, but the chore was necessary when dealing with orcs. He was the only man, other than the king, who could enter the orcs’ circle and expect to return alive; yet even he took care to scrub away his scent. Tarkum knew more about orcs than any man in the army. He knew they could smell fear. Tarkum doubted they could detect his contempt, though he took no chances. Besides, bathing was courteous, and the piss eyes liked a show of manners.

Tarkum had dressed in a clean linen tunic when Murdant Kol brought in his armor. Unlike other generals’, the Queen’s Man’s equipment lacked ornamentation and resembled that of an orc in its utilitarian simplicity. The armor’s steel plates, however, had been polished and oiled until they gleamed like silver. Kol had two women spend an entire day doing it, and Tarkum approved of his thoroughness. He often wished his tolums were as useful.

Kol laid the armor on the cot and stood by to help put it on. Having served with the Queen’s Man since the latter was a sustolum, he was one of the few men unintimidated by his presence. There was mutual respect between the two hardened soldiers, and they dropped the formalities of rank when they were alone.

“Will you be dining with the piss eyes tonight or just paying your respects?” asked Kol.

“I’ll be eating with them,” replied Tarkum. “There’s no avoiding it. It’s the Night of the Eye.”

“Then I’ll have proper food and drink waiting for you,” said Kol.

“That would be good,” said Tarkum. “Especially the drink.”

“Would this evening be a good time to bring up that matter I mentioned,” asked Kol.

“That business of the girl?”

“Yes,” said Murdant Kol. “The one called Dar.”

Tarkum frowned. “I’ve been thinking about her. You said she’s sleeping with a piss eye. You think she’s tupping him?”

“I wouldn’t put it past her.”

The Queen’s Man shook his head. “It’s a touchy matter.”

“I understand.”

“The problem lies in the piss eyes’ notions about women. They’re quite bizarre,” said Tarkum. “Thank Karm, our girls haven’t noticed.”

“Well, Dar’s noticed,” said Murdant Kol. “It’s causing trouble.”

“Just one dead soldier.”

“I’ve sent many a man to the Dark Path,” said Kol. “A murdant gains respect through fear. It wouldn’t do to have the men fear a woman.”

“So, what do you propose?”

“Ask the piss eyes to cast her out.”

“That would be difficult,” said Tarkum. “If they’ve let her stay, they probably consider her a mother.”

Kol snorted. “Dar’s no mother.”

“It’s what piss eyes call their women, though it’d be the first time they’ve called one of ours that.”

“So what?”

“Piss eyes call their queen ‘Muth Mauk.’ It means ‘Great Mother.’ They obey me only because I speak for her,” said Tarkum. “I can’t ask them to question a mother’s authority.”

“
Authority?
Karm’s ass! How can a branded bitch have authority?”

“Among piss eyes, all mothers have authority. Your branded bitch and their queen are different, but only by degree. It’s daft, but that’s what piss eyes believe.”

“All the more reason to get rid of her,” said Kol. “Let her be, and she’ll end up running the regiment.”

“You give her too much credit. She’s just a simple hillbitch.”

“What if she stirs up the orcs?” asked Kol. “What if more girls join her? One already has.”

“Who?”

“A scabhead called Twea.”

The Queen’s Man frowned. “So, one bad fish is spoiling the broth. You’re right. This can’t abide.”

“So, when do we squash her?”

“We’ll have to rid ourselves of more than Dar. Find a rat in the wine cask and you dump the whole thing.”

“Do you have a plan?”

“Those piss eyes that protect her will not return from battle. I’ll see to that. Once they’re gone, you’ll have a free hand with the girl.”

“I look forward to that day, sir,” said Murdant Kol.

“Aye,” replied the Queen’s Man, giving his high murdant a knowing look. “I’m sure you do.”

Dar and Twea sat outside Kovok-mah’s shelter, enjoying the calmness of the evening. “Where’s Kovy?” asked Twea. “It’s way past dinner.”

“He’s praying,” said Dar. “It’s Nuf Bahi, the night when Muth la’s eye is fully open.”

“Her eye?”

“Look,” said Dar, pointing to the full moon. “She’s watching us.”

“Is that why Kovy’s praying?”

“Hai. It’s a special night. The urkzimmuthi say Muth la sends visions to mothers on Nuf Bahi.”

Twea looked about. “Where are they? I don’t see anything.”

Dar smiled. “Few receive them.”

“Have you?”

“Never.”

“Maybe I will.” Twea stared intently.

“Don’t use your eyes alone,” said Dar. “What do you feel?”

“Cold,” said Twea. “That’s all.”

Dar wrapped an arm about Twea. Though the air was still and warm, the girl was shivering.

“Do
you
see anything?” asked Twea.

Dar gazed about the moonlit enclosure. The deep voices of the praying orcs enhanced her feeling that she was within sacred space—both embraced and watched by Muth la. She glanced down at Twea, who still peered wide-eyed into the darkness.
She feels it, too
. The idea of visions no longer seemed far-fetched.

Dar spied movement. At first it seemed like fog rising from the river. Then it resolved into the figure of Twea walking toward her. She was naked, and an unfelt wind blew her hair. When the girl came nearer, Dar could see through her pale flesh.

Dar was both awestruck and shaken to the core. She felt that the solid, everyday world had cracked to spill a glimpse of something significant and perilous to ignore.
It’s Twea’s spirit! She’s walking the Dark Path!
When Dar could no longer bear the sight, she squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them again, the figure was gone. Dar became aware that Twea was shaking her arm. “Dar, why were you staring like that? What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“You looked so sad,” said Twea. “What did you see?”

“Nothing,” said Dar, hugging Twea close. “It was nothing.”

Twenty-eight

Dar’s vision haunted her. Sometimes she thought it was a warning so she might prevent Twea’s death. Other times she feared it foretold the inevitable. Either way, it made Dar anxious whenever she was separated from the girl. Murdant Kol noticed this, for he was always looking for ways to hurt Dar. While he dared not harm her directly, he saw Dar’s attachment to Twea as a vulnerability he could exploit.

Each morning, women were sent out to follow a wagon and fill it with firewood. As the nearby countryside was stripped of fuel, the women’s trek had grown longer until it took most of the day. Knowing this, Kol ordered Murdant Teeg to put Twea on firewood duty. As soon as Twea left, Dar began to fret.

By noon, Dar was convinced she would never see the girl again, but Twea surprised her by returning early. She was in a buoyant mood. “Dar! Guess what!” shouted Twea as she scampered to Dar’s side. “I rode a horse!”

Dar’s relief turned to alarm. “Whose horse?”

Twea’s smile vanished, and she became defensive. “Someone nice. He says he knows you. His name’s Sevren.”

“I don’t know any Sevren.”

“He’s a King’s Guard. He has red hair.”

“Him? What did he do to you?”

“He just gave me a ride. Why are you mad?”

“I’m not mad at you,” said Dar. “But I don’t trust soldiers.”

“He’s not a soldier,” said Twea. “He’s a guard.”

“It’s the same thing,” said Dar.

“I assure you that’s untrue,” said a man’s voice.

Dar whirled and saw Sevren walking toward her. “You!” she said, eyeing him suspiciously. “What are you doing here?”

“Seeing that Twea’s safe,” replied Sevren.

“She’s under an orc’s protection. She doesn’t need yours.”

“Then that orc should be more vigilant. Twea should na wander alone outside the camp.”

“Alone!” said Dar.

“The wagon went too fast,” said Twea. “I couldn’t keep up.”

“Twea,” said Dar. “I need to speak to Sevren. Go ask Taren what job needs to be done.” She waited until Twea had left before she turned to Sevren. “And what were
you
doing out there?”

Sevren saw the distrust on Dar’s face and chose to be candid. “I was looking for her.”

“Why?”

“I thought if I got to know her, I’d get to know you.”

“You were mistaken.”

“Well, I have a question of my own,” said Sevren. “Why was a wee lass sent to get wood? Is your murdant daft?”

“You’re the one who’s daft if you don’t understand.”

“Then I’m daft.”

“He put her in harm’s way to punish me.”

“Are you saying he’d permit her to be harmed?”

“Permit her!” said Dar with a bitter laugh. “He’d do it himself if he dared. Your army holds Twea worthless, though it’d pay five silvers for her head.”

“It’s na my army.”

“You’re pleased enough to be in it,” retorted Dar, “with your fancy clothes and fine horse. They didn’t have to brand
you
to make you stay!”

“Aye, I lack a brand,” said Sevren. “Yet I’m na so pleased to be here. I dislike the Northern ways.”

“Then get on your horse and ride away.”

“I will, one day.”

“Twea and I can never do that,” said Dar. She turned to walk away, and felt a light touch on her arm. Dar whirled. “What?”

Sevren looked chastened, but still anxious to speak. “I did na fully understand,” he said, “and that was a fault on my part. Yet now that you’ve instructed me, perhaps I can be of help.”

“You can’t. Now leave us be.”

“It’s clear you can take care of yourself. Can Twea do the same? I can give her safety.”

“How?”

“The king arrives soon. They’ll need extra hands at the royal compound. Your murdant can na touch her there.”

“Do you mean Twea could work for the king?” asked Dar.

“It’d be kitchen duty, but safer than gathering wood.”

“I…I’d appreciate that.”

“Come with her and work together.”

Dar hesitated.

“I’m sure it’d please Twea.”

“All right,” said Dar. “I will.”

Sevren smiled. “Then look for me tomorrow morning.” Before Dar could say anything more, he left.

Dar watched Sevren go with mixed feelings. She felt hopeful, yet suspicious. Murdant Kol had been kind to her, and now he was her enemy.
Should I trust this man?
Experience told her that she should not.

After Dar served the orcs and cleaned up, she reentered Muth la’s Embrace and walked to Kovok-mah’s shelter. Twea was asleep in Kovok-mah’s lap. He sat so still that Dar thought he was asleep also. She pushed the reeds closed, wrapped herself in her cloak, and lay down within the space in front of his knees. She had just closed her eyes when Kovok-mah whispered, “Tava, Dargu.”

“Tava, Kovok-mah.” Dar continued speaking in Orcish. “I am glad you sleep not.”

“Why?”

“I wish to speak of visions,” said Dar.

“Sons know little of visions.”

“But I heard you…” Dar tried to think of the Orcish word for “pray,” but couldn’t. “…heard you speak to Muth la on Nuf Bahi.”

“Sons speak to Muth la, and Muth la listens,” said Kovok-mah. “But Muth la speaks to mothers.”

“I think Muth la may have shown me something that night,” said Dar. “I need to understand what I saw.”

Kovok-mah said nothing. After a while, Dar wondered if he had gone to sleep. “Kovok-mah?” she whispered.

“Hai?”

“Did you hear me?”

“Speak not of what you saw,” said Kovok-mah in an uneasy voice.

“Why?”

“Such things are not for sons to hear. They are deep matters, shown to few mothers.”

“Perhaps it was not vision,” said Dar, hoping it wasn’t.

“Perhaps,” replied Kovok-mah. “You will know soon enough.”

Dar and Twea rose before dawn and left the Embrace of Muth la. A few sleepy women were at the cooking site, warming themselves by a small fire. Taren and Neffa were among them, along with Memni, who looked particularly miserable. Dar assumed most of the women were still sleeping with soldiers. The group about the fire fell silent as Dar approached. Twea received the same treatment, but it didn’t prevent her from talking about riding a horse.