[Queen of Orcs 03] - Royal Destiny (6 page)

“You claim Dar did,” replied Valamar.

“Aye, and she thought it an improvement.”

“Did you?”

“’Tis unimportant now.”

“So, what did the orcs say?”

“I’m still learning their tongue and lack skill in it, but it seems they know na more than we do. I fear she’s dead. She seemed nearly so when I last saw her.”

“Since you returned their queen, why wouldn’t the orcs let you stay? That seems common courtesy.”

“A queen’s death is momentous. To them, I was only some washavoki.”

“But to question you and turn you out? Your regard for them is overblown. They’re called brutes for a reason.”

“This summer, who used their own troops as bait? Who pillaged Karm’s Temple? Mayhap orcs are brutes, but they’re honest ones.”

“I wouldn’t trust an orc,” said Valamar. “Dar addled your wits, and that’s for certain. Still, I’m sorry she’s gone. You were right—she had spirit.”

Sevren sighed. “Aye, she did.”

The two men entered the tavern, where Valamar purchased the ale. Sevren, having refused to touch plunder from the temple, was not a copper richer after the summer campaign. He thanked his friend, then raised his flagon. “To Dar, and what she wrought. To peaceful times.”

Valamar touched his flagon to Sevren’s. “I’ll drink to your departed love, but peaceful times are lean times. No war means no plunder.”

“Queen Girta has a treasury.”

“Just a name for an empty chest. If there’s no campaign, we’ll be threadbare by summer’s end. Men are already leaving. How about you?”

“I’ve na yet the price of a farm.”

“Then why did you refuse your summer’s share?”

“’Twas obtained by sacrilege. You can na buy land with cursed gold. The curse lingers in the purchase.”

Valamar grinned. “Then you’re drinking cursed ale.”

“Which I’ll piss away afore sunrise.”

Valamar’s grin broadened. “That’s the first wise thing you’ve said all evening.”

Seven

Dar pushed through snow and brown weed stalks to reach Muth la’s Dome. It was not yet noon, but she wanted to ensure that Meera-yat could reach their meeting place easily. The small stone hemisphere stood in the center of an otherwise empty courtyard. No one had visited it recently, and the surrounding snow was deep and undisturbed. It formed a drift against the dome’s ancient wooden door, which Dar struggled to pull open. In her weakened state, the effort left her panting.

The dome’s single, circular room was ten paces across and partly below ground level. Dar descended a short set of stairs to reach its stone floor. A small opening in the apex of the ceiling admitted some dim light and an occasional snowflake. Dar gazed about the place that had been the site of her great ordeal and great joy. The room looked undisturbed since her rebirth, although the hole in the floor’s center had been covered by a circular flagstone. Dar wondered if water still filled the hole. If it did, it was surely frozen. The floor about the flagstone bore a dusting of snow, and Dar’s breath condensed each time she exhaled.

When Dar heard Meera-yat at the doorway, she rushed to help her down the stairs. “Greeting, Mother,” she shouted. “You chose cold place for us to talk. Will you be warm enough?”

“My comfort is unimportant, Muth Mauk.”

Dar led Meera-yat to where the floor was free of snow. Meera-yat sat down and Dar huddled next to her. “What has Zor-yat told you about being great mother?” asked Meera-yat.

The dome’s curved walls enhanced Dar’s voice, so she didn’t have to shout her reply. “Only that I should pass on Fathma.”

“Did she speak of what would happen afterward?”

“Thwa, but Nir-yat did.”

“Nir-yat has good chest. She’s well named,” said Meera-yat. “I assume you wish to keep your spirit.”

“I’ve work that’s unfinished. I can’t die yet.”

Meera-yat nodded. “Already, you think like queen. Muth la helped queen choose her successor wisely.”

“I was only mother present. Queen had no other choice.”

“Don’t you think that was Muth la’s doing?” asked Meera-yat.

“Muthuri doesn’t.”

“I won’t speak ill of your muthuri, but…humph! Well, I’ll tell you what you need to know. Great mother is muthuri to all urkzimmuthi. Remember this, and ruling comes naturally.”

I’ve never had children
, thought Dar.
How can I act like a muthuri?
She recalled how her human mother dutifully submitted to a man who crushed her spirit. That example provided no guidance. “Your advice sounds wise, but I’ve not lived among urkzimmuthi long,” replied Dar, “and I’ve spent more time with sons than mothers.”

“Yet you must know Muth la rules world through mothers. Muthuris are like Muth la in their own hanmuthis. Be like them. Show love, require obedience, and…” Meera-yat smiled. “…expect problems. Children aren’t always tranquil, especially daughters. Some will be headstrong. You must be firm.”

Dar imagined trying to be firm with Zor-yat and Muth-yat. “That won’t be easy.”

“Everyone expects queen to show path. If you’re confident, they’ll follow.”

“But how will I show them this path?” asked Dar. Her own dealings with the late queen had been personal and direct. When she had led the orcs against King Kregant, she was surrounded by her troops. Dar had no idea how to rule subjects that lived in distant halls. King Kregant had officials to carry out his commands, which made her wonder if she’d have similar functionaries. “Who will aid me when I rule?”

“Clan matriarchs and your mintaris.”

The latter word was unfamiliar. Dar broke it down into “sons” and “bitten.” “I bit Zna-yat’s neck, and his life became mine,” she said. “Is it same with mintaris?”

“Hai. When son becomes your mintari, his first duty is to you. You come before his clan’s matriarch or even his muthuri. Choosing your mintaris is major decision. It’s best they come from all clans. Gather sons to you, but don’t hurry to bite their necks. See if they’re suitable first. This deed can’t be undone.”

“How do I gather them?”

“Ask each clan matriarch to send you unblessed sons to serve you. Two per clan is customary. You can ask for more later.”

“Who chooses these sons? Matriarch? Or can I name them?”

“You can name them if you wish.”

Dar immediately thought of Kovok-mah. “Can son’s muthuri forbid him to go?”

“Thwa. Besides, it’s honor to be asked.”

Dar was glad that Meera-yat couldn’t see her smile.
Kath-mah can’t keep Kovok-mah from me!
“Should I do this soon?”

“Hai. It will let matriarchs know there is new queen. Then they will gather here for council meeting.”

“What should I do at this meeting?”

“Impart what wisdom Muth la has given you.”

Dar thought that advice was vague to the point of being useless. She envisioned a room full of matriarchs, all much older than she and accustomed to wielding authority.
They’ll think I’m an upstart!
Dar grew anxious. She suspected Meera-yat smelled her fear, for the ancient mother grasped her hand and squeezed it. “Remember, you have Fathma.”

“So did great mothers who drank Muth la’s Draught and died.”

“It’s rare for Council of Matriarchs to question queen’s fitness, and rarer still for them to call for Draught. Didn’t you say you have unfinished work? I believe Muth la will permit you to complete it.”

It occurred to Dar that her sole purpose might be to bring Fathma back to the orcs and someone with more experience should implement the treaty.
If that’s the case, I’ll be deemed unfit.
Dar wondered what would happen if she refused to drink Muth la’s Draught. She suspected it would be futile.

“It’ll take a while for matriarchs to arrive,” said Meera-yat. “Muth-goth’s hall is far away.”

“Muth-pah’s hall is even farther.”

“Why do you speak of Muth-pah? Pah clan is lost.”

“That’s not so. I’ve stayed with Pah clan and met Muth-pah. Together, we entered darkness to receive visions.”

Meera-yat didn’t immediately reply, but her agitated expression made Dar uneasy. “You entered darkness? What happened afterward?”

“Muth-pah said world had changed.”

“Oh my! And you’re queen now! Oh my!”

“What’s the matter?”

“Woe that I should live unto this time!”

“Won’t you help me?” asked Dar, perplexed by Meera-yat’s abrupt change.

“Help you? Never! How could I?”

Meera-yat struggled to her feet and began a shuffling search for the stairs. Dar rose to help her. “Please, Mother, tell me what’s upset you.”

“I must go. Help me to door, then let me be. I’ll find my way.”

Dar could do little more than comply, for the elderly mother refused to speak further. After Meera-yat left, Dar remained inside the dome, feeling alarmed and mystified. Zor-yat and Muth-yat had also learned about her visit to the Pah clan, and they had seemed undisturbed by the news. Dar pondered why it had upset Meera-yat. It was possible that she knew something Muth-yat and Zor-yat didn’t. There seemed little hope of finding out what it was. It was also possible that circumstances had changed since Dar first told her story. One change was obvious.
I’m queen now.
Dar wondered for how long.

Dar was about to leave the room when she spotted someone sitting in its shadows. The discovery startled her, for she was certain that the dome had been empty when she entered it. Using her most authoritative tone, she addressed the stranger, who appeared as little more than a shadowy shape. “Reveal yourself. What are you doing here?”

The figure rose and advanced. The light revealed a frail old man with a long white beard. He was dressed in a tattered gray robe. Dar gazed at him, awestruck. “Velasa-pah?”

The wizard’s deeply lined face was solemn. He bowed, then spoke in the human tongue. “Beware the bones.”

“The bones were destroyed,” said Dar.

Velasa-pah seemed about to reply when a stone block crashed onto the floor. Dar looked upward. The hole in the ceiling was no longer circular. Its edge had a gap like a missing tooth, and the sky beyond had an orange tinge. As Dar gazed at the ceiling, a second stone fell. Then the hole in the ceiling continued to enlarge as the stone blocks encircling it loosened and tumbled down. The entire dome threatened to collapse. Dar dashed out the door to avoid being crushed.

She emerged into a courtyard surrounded by fire. The entire clan hall was ablaze. Huge sheets of flame rose high into the sky, turning it black with smoke. The rumble of falling stones, but no voices, accompanied the fire’s crackle and roar. The heat was searing. Already, the snow in the courtyard had melted and the weeds were smoldering. Dar heard a grinding noise behind her. She turned to see Muth la’s Dome tumble down. The entire hall seemed in danger of doing the same.

“Muth Mauk!” called a voice. Dar turned toward the sound and saw Deen-yat emerging from the burning hall. She seemed calm. “You shouldn’t be outside in cold,” said the healer, her tone mildly scolding. “Come inside.”

Dar was about to reply that the hall was on fire, when she realized it wasn’t.
I’m having a vision
, she thought, hoping it would end. The flames faded, and the smoke-blackened sky turned gray. Without looking, Dar knew Muth la’s Dome was still standing.
At least, for now,
she thought. Then, without a backward glance, she followed Deen-yat into the Yat clan hall.

Eight

The flames had seemed so real that Dar’s brow was flushed and sweaty. Deen-yat thought she had a fever. She escorted Dar back to the royal hanmuthi and directed her to rest. Dar didn’t argue, but she insisted on being alone. She was deeply shaken and needed time to compose herself. Her meeting with Meera-yat, which had begun with such promise, had only compounded her insecurity. Dar feared that she had committed some error already and her vision was a glimpse of its consequences.

For a long while, Dar could think of nothing but the burning hall. She relived its destruction repeatedly until its horror gradually dulled. Only then did she ponder the vision’s meaning. She assumed that it was somehow linked to her conversation with Meera-yat, who had been calm until Dar mentioned the Pah clan. Dar wondered if that was why she saw the vision of Velasa-pah and the hall’s destruction immediately after Meera-yat’s outburst. It seemed logical. Yet that assumption left Dar only more confused. She needed to discover what had alarmed Meera-yat. Direct questioning would yield no answers, though she didn’t understand why.