[Queen of Orcs 02] - Clan Daughter (23 page)

Dar was stirring a pot of stew when she glanced up. Washavoki soldiers encircled her. They held out bowls, expecting to be served. “Go away,” she told them. “I’m urkzimmuthi now.”

The soldiers moved closer. “You’re no piss eye,” said one.

“I am. I’ve been reborn.” Dar held up a hand to show them her claws, but her nails were flat. She stared at them, puzzled.

“You don’t scare us.”

A soldier thrust his bowl at Dar’s face. “Fill it.”

Dar looked about, but saw only washavokis. After she ladled stew into the soldier’s bowl, others held out theirs. Dar served the men, all the while wondering how they got there. They crowded closer, jostling her. Dar ladled stew as quickly as she could, but the mob never seemed to thin. Then a soldier pushed his way through the others, shouting in a gurgling voice. “You stole my dagger.” Dar knew it would be Muut even before she saw him. He glared at her with dead eyes, his crushed throat a dark purple. “You’re a thief!”

“You no longer needed it,” said Dar.

“Give it back!” Muut lunged, and Dar threw stew in his face.

“Serve the man,” said a steely voice, “and this time, mind you get it in his bowl.”

As Dar dipped her ladle in the pot, Muut disappeared. In his place stood Murdant Kol. He smiled coldly. “You’re still my woman,” he said, holding out a bowl. “Do as you’re told.”

Dar started to obey, but when she lifted the ladle, Murdant Kol’s bowl uncoiled like a snake and became a whip.

Dar woke with a start, moist with sweat. Moonlight streamed though the window, illuminating Nir-yat and Thir-yat, who were sound asleep. Dar gradually calmed down, but not completely. Her dream left a lingering disquiet that she couldn’t shake. It was the feeling that, despite all that had happened, she still belonged to the regiment.

After a long while, Dar drifted off to uneasy dreams. She couldn’t remember them the following morning, but they heightened her need to see Kovok-mah. When snow covered the pastures, Kovok-mah would winter with his muthuri. Dar craved one more chance to have him to herself. Spurred by that thought, Dar went to tell Zor-yat that she would be visiting the Mah clan again. Zor-yat looked surprised. “Nir said nothing of this.”

“She doesn’t know,” said Dar. “I’m going alone.”

“You know way?”

“Hai, Muthuri.”

Zor-yat appeared intrigued. “You’re going to see some son, aren’t you?”

Dar didn’t reply.

“Come, Dargu. It’s not my brother’s company you seek. Nor Kath-mah’s.”

“It’s their son’s,” replied Dar in a low voice. “We care for each other.”

Zor-yat smiled. “Of course! You traveled together.” She made a show of sniffing the air. “My nose has been unwise. Most unwise!” Her eyes narrowed. “How long have you had kept this secret?”

Dar felt as though a weight had been lifted from her chest. “Ever since I arrived.”

“I see,” said Zor-yat, annoyed that she hadn’t noticed before. Yet, on reflection, she realized why she had ignored the signs; it never occurred to her that a son could have feelings for a washavoki.

“Muthuri, I wish to be blessed.”

“Blessed! This
is
serious! Have either of you spoken to Kath-mah?”

“Not yet.”

Zor-yat’s expression grew thoughtful. “I think that was wise. Kath-mah can be difficult. It’s best I talk to her first, muthuri to muthuri.”

“You’d do that?”

“Of course. You’re my daughter, and Kovok-mah is fine choice.”

Dar’s face lit up. “I can’t wait to tell Kovok!”

“Oh, you shouldn’t see him until I speak with his muthuri. Then he can visit you here. That’s more proper.”

Dar’s excitement dampened, and it showed. Zor-yat hugged her. “Waiting is hard when feelings are strong.”

“Hai, Muthuri.”

“Then I’ll leave today to speak to Kath-mah. If things go well, your velazul will be here soon.”

Two evenings later, Zor-yat arrived in the hall where Kath-mah lived. Everyone was surprised to see her, for she rarely visited. As Zor-yat shook the sleet from her cloak, Kath-mah’s sister greeted her. “Welcome, sister’s husband’s sister. Your errand must be urgent to travel in such weather.”

Zor-yat smiled ruefully. “What we muthuris do for our children! I’m nearly frozen.” She bowed her head to Kath-mah. “Brother’s wife, it’s good to see you.” After Kath-mah returned her greeting, Zor-yat asked, “Where’s your son?”

Kath-mah wrinkled her nose. “Still with his goats.”

Zor-yat was pleased to hear this, but she said, “How unfortunate, since my errand concerns him.”

“How?” asked Kath-mah.

Zor-yat regarded her brother. “Will you leave us, Javak? This is muthuri talk.”

Kath-mah escorted her visitor into her chamber, where the two huddled together. “What is this matter, Zor-yat?”

“After my daughter visited here, she told me of her interest in your son. She’s quite serious about him.”

Kath-mah beamed. “Nir-yat and my Kovok? It would be perfect match!”

“Not Nir-yat. Dargu-yat.”

Kath-mah’s expression darkened. “Your washavoki daughter?”

“She’s not washavoki. She’s been reborn.”

“Her spirit has been reborn,” retorted Kath-mah, “but not her body. You can’t breed sheep and goats.”

“Nevertheless, your son’s drawn to her. He’s been her velazul for several moons.”

“How do you know this?”

“Dargu told me. She visits him at his goat hut.”

“And she wants my blessing?”

“Dargu-yat will never bear daughters nor have her own hanmuthi, but her sisters will take care of her. If you give your blessing, Kovok-mah will have pleasant life.”

“Pleasant? Ha! Ask your brother how it is to have no daughters! My nieces are above me. Someday their daughters will be also.”

“So what should I tell Dargu?” asked Zor-yat.

“Tell her that Kovok is forbidden to see her.”

“I’m not surprised by your answer, but I fear its consequences.”

“What consequences?”

“Those reborn have special gifts. Like Velasa-pah, Dargu-yat has magic powers. How else could one so ugly attract your son? If you tear him from her, she will break his chest.”

“So what am I to do?”

“Send your son to Taiben, and Dargu will forget him. By his return, she’ll have different velazul.”

“Are you sure?”

“She’s my daughter. I understand her ways.”

Kath-mah frowned. “You’ve brought ill tidings. All my choices are hard ones.”

“This can end well,” said Zor-yat. “Think on what I’ve said. If you send Kovok-mah to Taiben, let us know so Dargu can begin to forget him.”

Dar’s mood swung between optimism and despair during Zor-yat’s absence. She hadn’t felt so powerless since being branded and sent to the regiment. Her fate seemed completely out of her control; all she could do was wait for Kath-mah’s decision.

At times, Dar was almost giddy with the prospect of being blessed. Other times, she tried to steel herself for the worst and imagine how she would cope without Kovok-mah. She felt that unique circumstances had brought them together and the love that resulted could never be duplicated. Dar’s first samuth seemed proof.
If Kath-mah doesn’t bless us, I’ll spend my life alone.
Dar had heard of women who dedicated their lives to Karm, living apart to pray and toil until they walked the Dark Path. Once, Dar had envied such a life, but it seemed dreary after Kovok-mah had awakened her need for intimacy. She didn’t want to grow old without love.

The fourth day after Zor-yat’s departure, Dar was so anxious that Gar-yat sent her from the kitchen rather than have her ruin another dish. Dar spent the afternoon outside the gate, watching the road for her muthuri. It was nearly dark when Dar spied Zor-yat walking alone, her cloak whipped by the wind. Dar raced down the zigzagged roadway and met her at the base of the mountain. “What news, Muthuri?”

“It’s better than I hoped, Dargu.”

“Will she bless me?”

“Not yet,” replied Zor-yat. “But she’ll allow Kovok-mah to see you. Don’t be discouraged. This is hopeful.”

“But I desire more than hope.”

“My news surprised Kath-mah, and she needs time to think. When she does, I expect she’ll see wisdom in this match. Look for Kovok-mah. He should visit soon.”

Dar hugged Zor-yat. “Shashav, Muthuri.”

Zor-yat continued up the hill, glad that her hood and the darkness hid her face. Her deed felt unnatural, and she worried her expression might betray her.
Meaningless words leave foul taste.
Yet Zor-yat believed that if her ploy worked, Muth la would forgive her.

Twenty-seven

Zor-yat’s news briefly raised Dar’s spirits, but only a visit from Kovok-mah could provide real assurance. Dar waited for one ever more anxiously. Her mood soon infected the entire hanmuthi, so all her sisters began to watch the road for travelers. Five days after Zor-yat’s return, Nir-yat appeared in the kitchen. Dar was elated until she saw Nir-yat’s subdued expression. “Dargu, Javak-yat is here with news.”

Dar felt a cold sensation in her stomach. “What is it?”

“It’s best you hear from him.”

Dar hurried to the hanmuthi. She found Javak-yat seated with his sister and drinking hot herb water. Expecting the worst, Dar interrupted their conversation. “Uncle, where’s Kovok-mah?”

Javak-yat appeared surprised by Dar’s urgency. “He’s gone to Taiben.”

“Taiben?”

“Hai. All clans must send sons to kill for washavoki king. Our queen…”

“This is my fault,” said Dar. “You sent him away because of me.” She burst out sobbing.

Javak-yat stared at Dar in astonishment. “Sister, why is your new daughter making such strange noises?”

“I think she’s sick,” replied Zor-yat, regarding Dar sternly. “Dargu, go rest in your chamber.”

Javak-yat watched Dar hurry away, then gave his sister a suspicious look. “Why did you visit Kath-mah?”

“Muthuri business,” said Zor-yat. “If Kath-mah didn’t tell you, I won’t either.”

Nir-yat was waiting in the chamber when Dar rushed in and collapsed on her bed. Though as astonished as her uncle by Dar’s tears, she sensed their nature and cause. “I’m sorry, Dargu.”

By force of will, Dar stifled her sobs, but nothing could stifle her despair. “Kath-mah doesn’t understand,” she said.

“Understand what?”

“She has sent Kovok to his death.”

“No muthuri would do that.”

“No muthuri has seen what I have. Washavoki king cares not how many sons are slaughtered.”

“Our queen would never allow…”

“She doesn’t understand either.” Dar turned her face to the wall.

After a while, Dar heard Nir-yat leave the room. Dar lay on her bed, consumed by misery. Before, she had worried that Kovok-mah would be forbidden to see her. Javak-yat’s news made her fear that Kovok-mah would die. His death seemed likely—even inevitable—and Dar felt responsible.
He barely escaped the first time
, she thought, recalling the final battle’s carnage. In her mind’s eye, each slain orc became Kovok-mah.

Dar was still on her bed, when she heard Zor-yat’s voice. “Dargu, this is not your fault. All clans must send sons to Taiben.”

Dar turned to face her muthuri. “Kovok just returned from battle. Why must he kill again?”

“Only unblessed sons are called. After this summer, few remain.”

“He would have been safe if Kath-mah had blessed us.”

“Blessings take time,” said Zor-yat. “She’ll do it when he returns.”

“Did your brother say that?”

“Hai, but you’re not supposed to know. Don’t speak to him of it.”

“So, I’m not reason why Kovok’s gone.”

“Of course not. Our queen is reason. It’s her command. Be patient. You’ll be blessed.”

“Thwa, I won’t,” said Dar, her voice dull. “I know it in my chest.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because Kovok won’t return.”

“Have you had vision?” ask Zor-yat, sounding concerned.

“Thwa, but I’ve seen war.”

“Queen’s command has brought sorrow to many mothers, not just you.”

Dar was silent, but her eyes welled with tears. Zor-yat, having lived among washavokis, understood what they signified. She searched Dar’s face for other hints of what she was thinking. Meanwhile, Dar was engaged in an inner struggle and oblivious to the scrutiny. She might obtain her heart’s desire, but only if she took a deadly risk.

Zor-yat patiently waited. She had said all that she could. Only time would tell if her words had the desired effect. After a while, she detected the scent of fear. It gradually grew stronger until it filled the room. Then Dar spoke. “Muth-yat was right.”

Zor-yat feigned puzzlement. “Right about what?”

“I must go to Taiben.”

“Taiben? Whatever for?”

“To see our queen and discover why she commands sons to kill. If I succeed, I may save Kovok-mah.”

“How will you do this?”

“I’m not sure, but my chest tells me I must try.”

After Dar spoke with Zor-yat, she was sent to see Muth-yat. The matriarch was pleased by Dar’s decision. “I’m certain Muth la has guided you,” she said. “Zor-yat must be proud. You are worthy daughter.”

Dar acknowledged the praise with a bow. Then Muth-yat surprised her by having washavoki clothes brought in. “You’ll need these for your journey.” It was obvious that the shabby cloak and shift had been carefully selected, for they were typical of the clothing worn by women in the regiment. Dar thought they were too clean, but otherwise perfect.