[Queen of Orcs 03] - Royal Destiny (21 page)

Kol saw his situation in military terms. He had just taken favorable ground that also rendered him more visible. The crucial point was not to advance unprepared. He planned to consolidate his position and test the resistance first. For the time being, he would keep a low profile and be a paragon of humility.

Meanwhile, Kol would use others to advance his plans. He had already come up with a list of enemies in court, and he expected his promotion would reveal a few more.
Gorm can arrange for their elimination.
Othar’s ability to seize minds would make it simple. Kol envisioned a rash of murders.
Deranged servants…jealous lovers…robbers. Death can come so suddenly. And I’ll be blameless every time.

While Gorm cleared the opposition, Kol planned to use Lokung for double duty. First, he would have the steward feed Girta’s fears with rumors of intrigues against her.
Nothing clear enough to act upon, just enough to keep her insecure.
Second, he wanted Lokung to find recruits for a new guard.
They’ll be called the Queen’s Men. They’ll wear black to set them apart.
Kol would be their commander, and despite the guard’s name, it would swear loyalty to him.

Kol’s primary concern was time. Despite Othar’s impatience, he could not afford to move too quickly and alarm Girta. The creation of the Queen’s Men must not be seen as a power grab. He had to continue to win the queen’s trust while wooing the prince. Kol was beginning to believe that the boy—though currently powerless—might prove the means to achieve his goal. He planned to give him a black uniform when the Queen’s Men were created.
What boy doesn’t want to protect his mother?
When Kol was the prince’s age, he had hoped to do the same. He smiled sadly at the thought of his boyish naïveté. Then Kol grimly recalled his father’s most brutal lesson, a lesson he was prepared to give the prince if necessary.

Winter tightened its grip on Taiben. The city became like a frozen lake, its still surface hiding currents in the dark below. The queen grew ever more afraid. All the while, Kovok-mah waited for a summons that didn’t come.

Meanwhile in the Yat clan hall, Dar continued to hold her nightly feasts and wait for Kovok-mah’s report. As the days passed, she began to grow concerned that events had gone ill in Taiben. There was little she could do about it, for the round of feasts and the upcoming council occupied her. Muth-hak arrived on the day she held her seventeenth feast. The Hak clan matriarch was a wiry mother, with bright yellow eyes and an animated manner. She was cordial during her brief meeting, and Dar counted her as an ally.

By the time Muth-jan came to the Yat clan hall, Dar had added three more sons to her mintaris—Tatfa-jan, Dil-hak, and Kak-tok—and was about to hold her twenty-first feast. The matriarch of the Iron Clan was shorter than Dar, barrel-chested, and quick to smile. Dar felt comfortable with her immediately. The matriarch ignored custom and spent the entire afternoon talking with her. Muth-jan proved to be the aunt of Magtha-jan, whom Dar had met in the garrison outside of Taiben. Dar told the matriarch about the queen’s rescue and death, the orcs’ revolt, and the treaty it produced. By the time Muth-jan left, Dar tallied three allies on the council.

Two days later, sons from the Smat clan arrived and presented themselves as candidates for Dar’s mintaris. They had been sent by their matriarch, and their attitude was disquieting. Although outwardly respectful, they were clearly displeased to have been chosen. Dar thought their discontent boded ill. It seemed a sign that the Smat clan matriarch had given little thought to the candidates’ selection, expecting their service to be brief. The following day, candidates from the Zut clan arrived. They were equally unsuitable.

Muth-zut and Muth-smat arrived together as Dar was preparing for her twenty-seventh feast. She postponed seeing them until the following day, and spent the evening dreading the encounter. Her dread proved well-founded when she met the pair. Muth-smat was elderly and dour. She spoke little and stared stone-faced at Dar throughout their meeting. Muth-zut, who was younger, bluntly questioned Dar’s suitability to reign. After the brief meeting was over, Dar feared that the Zut clan matriarch’s attitude reflected her companion’s. In five days, Dar would host her final feast. Then the Council of Matriarchs would meet. By Dar’s count, four of its seven members would oppose her.

“Tanath dovat,” said Sevren in a low voice.
Something happen.

Kovok-mah woke. It was night, and the only light within the orcs’ quarters came from the embers on the central hearth. He was surprised that Sevren had been able to find him in the dark. “Atham?” asked Kovok-mah.
What?

Sevren replied in Orcish. “See you washavokis in black?”

“Your queen has not yet summoned me,” replied Kovok-mah in the Speech of Mothers. “I have only left this room to bathe.”

“They are new guards.”

“Like washavokis in blue and red and urkzimmuthi?”

“Like, but not like. Queen’s Man leads them.”

“Queen’s Man is dead.”

“Bah Simi is now Queen’s Man.”

“Why have you not told me this before?” asked Kovok-mah.

“It is danger for me see urkzimmuthi. Washavokis watch. I think that…that…” Sevren switched to the human tongue. “I think Kol’s planning something. The royal guard has been disbanded. You’re either one of the Queen’s Men, or demoted to the city garrison. Word came out today. This is probably the last time I can get into the palace. As of tomorrow, only the orcs and the Queen’s Men will guard Girta. That doesn’t make sense. I know most of the guards who became Queen’s Men. They all hate orcs.”

“Many washavokis do.”

“There’s more to this than meets the eye. Why have two sets of guards? Especially two sets that are at odds. It looks look a power play to me.” Sevren paused, for even in the darkness he could tell that Kovok-mah was bewildered.
Such intrigue is alien to him.
Then Sevren tried to explain his concerns more simply. “Bah Simi is Muth Mauk’s enemy,” he said in Orcish. “He gathers friends. He grows strong. This is bad for Muth Mauk.”

“I understand,” said Kovok-mah. “When I speak to washavoki great mother, I will ask her why she has done this.”

Sevren thought Kovok-mah’s forthright approach was pointless, but he doubted he could explain why. It troubled him that the queen would replace the royal guard with Kol’s men, while retaining her orc guards. He suspected Kol was behind that decision. If the rumors were true, he was her principal adviser. Sevren was puzzled why Kol would want the orcs to remain. He suspected the reason involved Dar. “Muth Mauk should hear this,” he said.

“I cannot leave until I speak with your great mother,” said Kovok-mah.

“I could go.”

Kovok-mah considered the suggestion. “You should not go alone.” He rose, then walked among the sleeping orcs, woke one, and returned with him. “Zna-yat serves Muth Mauk. Speak to him.”

With Kovok-mah translating occasionally, Sevren repeated his story to Zna-yat, who seemed to grasp its implications better than Kovok-mah. “I should tell Sev-ronz tale to Muth Mauk,” said Zna-yat. “But there is no need for it to come.”

“He sees things that we don’t,” said Kovok-mah.

Zna-yat regarded Sevren. “Tell them to me and avoid long journey.”

“I want to go,” said Sevren.

“Why?”

Thamus had cautioned Sevren against lying to orcs, and he heeded that advice. “I wish to see Muth Mauk again.”

Zna-yat gave Kovok-mah a meaningful look. “Should it?”

“Sevren understands washavokis better than you or I. He may be helpful.”

“You may come,” said Zna-yat. “I will leave tomorrow.”

“I see you on road. Not inside city,” replied Sevren. “I go now.”

As Sevren slipped away, Kovok-mah turned to Zna-yat. “What’s happening?”

“I’m not sure, but I know this: Washavokis are cruel. Expect some new outrage.”

Zna-yat left Taiben the following morning, and soon afterward, Kovok-mah received the long-awaited summons to talk with the washavoki queen. He wondered if the two events were connected. Zna-yat guarded the queen. Perhaps his departure had displeased her. If it did, Kovok-mah didn’t care. He was tired of washavoki rudeness.

Kovok-mah noted that the washavokis that escorted him to the queen all wore black. They took him to the large room he had visited before. The queen was seated on the object Kovok-mah assumed was a throne. Only sons dressed in black stood about her. Bah Simi was among them.

“I regret it has been so long since we last spoke,” said the queen.

Unfamiliar with polite falsehoods, Kovok-mah found Girta’s explanation puzzling, for a queen could do as she pleased. “I regret it also. Now that we speak, need others be present?”

Kovok-mah noted that the queen’s face grew paler and the scent of fear wafted into the air. “These are the Queen’s Men. They protect me.”

“So do urkzimmuthi.”

“Queen’s Men also serve me.”

Her mintaris
, thought Kovok-mah. “I understand now. Great Mother, after you and Muth Mauk spoke together, you promised to house us according to our custom so urkzimmuthi mothers could live with us. This has not happened.”

“I gave you a fine room to use.”

“It was not suitable.”

“The Queen’s Man has told me so,” said the queen, glancing at Bah Simi. Kovok-mah noticed that his black clothes were colored with yellow iron. “He has found better place for you.”

Bah Simi showed his dog-white teeth and spoke. “There are halls nearby. Round, so each is Zum Muthz la.”
Muth la’s Embrace.
Evidently pleased to show off his Orcish, he continued. “Each has teemhani.”
Hearth.
“We have also built proper spluf.”
Bath.

“Where are these buildings?”

“You stayed there when you fought for Great Washavoki.”

Kovok-mah realized that Bah Simi was speaking of the orcs’ former barracks. “I know these halls. They lie outside the city. How can we protect your great mother from there?”

“You’ll only live there,” said the queen. “You’ll still come into the city to guard me.”

“Muth Mauk said we were to live close to you. It is wise to have protectors near.”

Bah Simi spoke. “And you will be close when we build proper rooms inside the palace. That will take time. Until then, Great Mother wishes to honor your customs.”

Kovok-mah looked to the washavoki queen, puzzled that she would let a son speak for her. Yet she didn’t seem upset by his presumption. “It’s only for a little while,” she said.

Kovok-mah pondered his options. While he thought that Dargu would be displeased with the arrangement, he felt he lacked the authority to refuse it. “When must we move to these halls?”

“This afternoon,” said the queen.

Twenty-five

As latath for the Yat clan, Jvar-yat tattooed the chins of its members with the clan mark. She also prepared the black coloring used to create that mark, and her skills didn’t end there. She distilled fermented pashi, steeping washuthahi seeds and honey in the burning water to make falfhissi. She prepared ink for the lorekeeper and talmauki for the great mother. She also mixed dyes and made healing extracts. She did all this in a special chamber, which was where Muth-yat found her.

Jvar-yat set aside the mineral that she was pulverizing into powder and rose when Muth-yat entered. “Greetings, Matriarch.”

Muth-yat bowed, for the chamber was the latath’s domain. “You must make something for Council of Matriarchs.”

“What is it?”

“Muth la’s Draught.”

Jvar-yat’s expression reflected her shock, but she replied calmly. “When do you require it?”

“In five days.”

“Five days! This draught is brewed from yew seeds. It’s winter, and most have fallen.”

“Have you none stored?”

“I’ve never made Muth la’s Draught. Neither did latath before me. Yew seeds have no use except to make this brew.”

“Yet we need it and need it soon,” said Muth-yat. “Go into forest and find what you require. I’ll also need small stones. Seven green. Seven black.”

Jvar bowed. “Hai, Matriarch. I’ll leave this morning.”

“Good,” said Muth-yat as she departed.

The latath regarded the flat stone on her worktable. Its surface was covered with a grayish green powder from the mineral she had been pulverizing. Using a feather, she carefully brushed the powder onto another flat stone with a finer surface. Jvar-yat added a little mutton fat to the powder and used a flat-faced pestle to grind the two into a green paste.

Jvar-yat regarded the result of her effort. The tiny batch of talmauki would only last eight days. She recalled needling the clan mark on Dargu-yat’s chin just that summer and sighed. It had been a joyous occasion.
Giving tattoos is always happy work. How unlike making poison.
As she carefully scraped the talmauki into a stone vessel, Jvar-yat sighed again.
Eight days’ worth will be more than enough.

Sevren rode out of Taiben, wearing clothes he had borrowed from Thamus. A scarf shielded his lower face from the winter winds and the eyes of the black-garbed men who manned the gates. Sevren kept Skymere at a trot until they reached the orc road. Then he spurred him to a gallop, assuming that Zna-yat was already traveling toward the pass. The empty road was mostly clear of snow and the former royal guardsman had little difficulty catching up with the walking orc. When Sevren spied him, he called out, “Geenat! Geenat!”
Wait! Wait!