[Queen of Orcs 03] - Royal Destiny

by Morgan Howell

  Kovok-mah summoned his courage, and for the first time in his life, he refused to submit passively. “My chest is strong in this.”

  “I know,” said Kath-mah. “Air is heavy with your atur. Whether it is due to magic or Muth la, I remain firm and withhold my blessing. Do nothing rash. Our laws are strict, and even great mothers must bend to them. Heed my wisdom, or your feelings will destroy our queen.”

  Three

  Dar entered darkness with Muth-pah. As before, the Pah clan matriarch led the way through a narrow cave, which was dimly lit by the embers from a string of fires. As Muth-pah passed each glowing pile, she poured water on it. Steam from the extinguished embers filled the dark space, making it hot and damp. Unlike the last time Dar had entered darkness, they didn’t arrive at a chamber. Instead, the piles of embers seemed to extend without end—a dotted line of faint orange lights in a black void.

  Dar and Muth-pah continued to advance while the dark closed in behind them. Muth-pah’s vessel never emptied and the steam grew ever thicker until the way was hard to see. The heat became oppressive. Dar spoke to Muth-pah. “When will this end?”

  “How should I know, Muth Mauk? This is your journey.” Muth-pah doused yet another fire, and when it went out, all light disappeared. Dar cried out, but there was no reply. She was utterly alone.

  Dar sat up drenched in sweat and unsure if she was awake or dreaming. Since she had been stabbed, most of her existence seemed dreamlike. Dar recalled her arrival at the hall and wondered if she had truly viewed the spirits of everyone around her and judged their worth. If I did, then there’s one here who should be queen. Yet that mother had vanished before Dar could bestow Fathma. Dar didn’t know who she was, for spirits looked unlike bodies. Dar had recognized no one.

  Dar gazed about the dark hanmuthi. For a moment, she thought she saw sleepers in the other chambers, sitting upright beneath sleeping cloaks. She rubbed her eyes, and the rooms were empty again. The only sleeper was Deen-yat, who sat in Dar’s chamber. Dar rose from her mattress to stand and let the sweat dry from her torso. She resolved to bathe first thing in the morning, for she didn’t want to greet her family “snoofa va washavoki”—reeking like washavoki. Dar suspected that the acceptance she had experienced upon her rebirth would be tested soon. She was no longer simply Zor-yat’s daughter, and she’d be judged by a higher standard. Experience had taught her that mothers lacked the subservience of sons. Though she was queen, the obedience she had received in Taiben might not come so quickly in the Yat clan hall.

  Dar walked over to the window on shaky legs. She scraped frost from a pane and peered through it. The mountains gleamed white in the moonlight. The pastures are snow-covered, she thought. Kovok-mah’s goats will be stabled for the winter, and he’ll stay with his muthuri. Dar reminded herself that it no longer made any difference where Kovok-mah stayed. He was unobtainable.

  “Muth Mauk, why are you up?” asked Deen-yat.

  “Dream woke me.”

  “Your flesh is bumpy. Are you chilled?”

  “I’m fine,” said Dar. “Air feels good.”

  Nevertheless, Deen-yat rose to stand close to her. “You’re still weak. Evil magic lingers yet.”

  The healer guided Dar back to the mattress. When Dar lay down, Deen-yat covered her with a sleeping cloak. “Try to sleep, Muth Mauk.”

  Deen-yat’s mention of Othar’s magic evoked memories of the mage. Dar’s last sight of him had been seared into her memory—a pair of eyes staring from a charred face. He died, Dar reminded herself. And the bones, my greater enemy, were destroyed. She had witnessed both events. I’ve nothing to worry about. Yet after her dream, a shadow of doubt arose.

  It was late afternoon and Dar was seated in her hanmuthi, having bathed, blackened her teeth, and dressed in a new neva and new kefs. Following custom, she wore the pair of capelike kefs so her breasts were exposed, although that meant revealing her wound. Zor-yat’s eyes fixed on it as soon as she entered the room. “Muth Mauk, my chest breaks to view your injury.”

  “Please call me ‘daughter,’ Muthuri. That name makes me most glad.”

  “Yet you’re Muth Mauk now,” said Zor-yat. “How can I forget? Where’s your crown? You should be wearing it.”

  “There’s no need for crown. My family visits.”

  “All urkzimmuthi are your family now. When my sister became great mother, everything changed. Dargu-yat is dead.”

  “Dead?”

  “Dargu-yat’s spirit is no more. Fathma changes everything.”

  Dar was about to say that she felt no different when she realized that wasn’t true. Although she felt no wiser or mightier, she was imbued with a love for every orc. She also experienced vague, transient memories that she assumed belonged to former queens. “Hai, I’ve changed. But are you still my muthuri?”

  Zor-yat smiled. “Of course, Muth Mauk.”

  “Then, I’m happy.” Dar rose from her stool and embraced her muthuri though it made her wound ache.

  Zor-yat smelled Dar’s pain as she hugged her. “You must tell me all that happened in Taiben. We received tales from that washavoki that brought you here and my sister’s son as well, but only you know everything. Why did my sister die?”

  “Black Washavoki poisoned her long ago, then gave her healing magic to keep her alive. That magic clouded her mind so she spoke Black Washavoki’s words.”

  “I thought magic was used on her,” said Zor-yat. “So did Muth-yat. I’m glad Black One died.”

  “In order to clear her mind, your sister stopped taking healing magic, knowing it would cause her death. She’d been waiting for me.”

  “For you?”

  “Hai. For mother to receive Fathma.”

  “So you could pass it to another?”

  Dar recalled hovering on the edge of death and finding no one worthy to receive the divine gift. Was Muthuri there? It seemed likely, so Dar worded her reply carefully. “When I thought I was dying, I tried to bestow Fathma, but…but I lacked strength.”

  “Then we’re lucky you lived.” Zor-yat appeared to reflect for a moment. “Now that you have strength, you can do what you intended.”

  “Do you think another should be queen?”

  “Crown is burden, even for those who are prepared to receive it. Look at my sister’s fate.”

  Dar sighed. “Hai, but this burden is Muth la’s gift. I shouldn’t refuse it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure of nothing.” Dar thought how the Goddess Karm had temples with holy ones to guide the people. “Muthuri, is there someone among urkzimmuthi who understands Muth la best? Someone who offers guidance?”

  “Hai, my daughter. She’s called Muth Mauk.”

  Dar and her muthuri talked long. Dar recounted the events in Taiben as thoroughly as she could, knowing that Muth-yat and many others would quickly hear them. Dar saved one item for last, and as she spoke, she watched Zor-yat carefully. “When I met Kovok-mah in Taiben, I told him his muthuri would bless us. I said this because you told me so. He called me foolish.”

  “And so you were, Daughter. I never said Kath-mah would bless you. I said I hoped she would.”

  Dar’s recollection was distinctly different. I never would have gone to Taiben if I’d known the truth. As she gazed at her muthuri, she had the unsettling suspicion that she had been tricked.

  “Love clouds judgment,” said Zor-yat. “Your chest overruled your mind, and you heard what you wished to hear.”

  Dar wanted to believe her muthuri, but she didn’t. Nevertheless, she felt it would be unwise to say so. “You speak wisdom,” she said, inclining her head as a dutiful daughter. Zor-yat looked pleased and left soon afterward.

  The visit had exhausted Dar, and she retired to the mattress in her sleeping chamber. Deen-yat was waiting there, so Dar feigned sleep. She felt both disappointed and disturbed. She had hoped that her reunion with her muthuri would be like her rebirth, when Zor-yat had cradled her and proclaimed to all that Dar was
her child. That loving moment had not been repeated. Instead, Dar was certain that her muthuri had lied to her.

  In light of that realization, Dar saw herself as Zor-yat and Muth-yat’s pawn. Both had understood her visions. They knew Othar was Dar’s enemy and didn’t warn her. Dar concluded that Zor-yat had been right—feelings had clouded her judgment. Her desire to be a part of Zor-yat’s family had blinded her. Dar wondered why Zor-yat had become her muthuri. She suspected it involved the crown.

  If that’s the case, who’ll teach me how to rule? Dar assumed Zor-yat’s advice would be self-serving at best. And Muth-yat’s her sister. Does she want the crown, too? It seemed likely. Dar knew that both mothers commanded obedience, and whatever she said—regardless to whom—would likely reach their ears. She could trust Zna-yat; his loyalty was absolute. But Zna-yat was a son, and sons knew little about wielding authority. Besides, he was in Taiben. Dar recalled her dream about entering darkness. It suddenly felt like a portent. I’m lost, all right. And completely alone.

  “Don’t visit your sister today,” said Zor-yat to Nir-yat. “She’s too ill to receive more visitors.”

  “Hai, Muthuri,” said Nir-yat. “Your news saddens me.”

  “I understand. You two are close. I think she’ll be better tomorrow.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I should warn you—that magic has gravely harmed her. You’ll know that when you see her wound. Dargu isn’t well. Neither is she prepared to rule.”

  “But I’ve heard…”

  “Don’t question my wisdom!”

  Nir-yat bowed her head. “Hai, Muthuri.”

  “Tomorrow when you speak with your sister, encourage her to pass on Fathma. She intended to do so earlier, but her strength failed her. Now that’s she’s recovering, she should fulfill her intention. Dargu is newly reborn—a child really. Can you see her facing Council of Matriarchs?”

  “She’d find it difficult,” said Nir-yat.

  “More than difficult. Catastrophic. Dargu received Fathma because she was only mother in Taiben. It was chance, not Muth la’s will. If she remains great mother, it’ll cause trouble. Another should rule.”

  Upon hearing those words, Nir-yat grew alarmed. “But afterward…”

  “Dargu need not know about that. It would frighten her into making poor choice. I forbid you to tell her. Do you understand?”

  Nir-yat bowed yet again. “I understand, Muthuri.”

  Four

  Dar received no further visitors for the remainder of the day. After she ate the evening meal, she called Deen-yat to her. “I feel much better. You needn’t spend night with me.”

  Deen-yat bowed. “Shashav, Muth Mauk. It would please me to sleep in my own hanmuthi. But you must promise to do nothing foolish.”

  Dar smiled. “I’ll try not to.”

  “Then I’ll depart. There are always sons outside your hanmuthi. You need only clap and they’ll attend to any need.” Deen-yat bowed again.

  “Go with my gratitude.”

  “I’ll see you in morning. Sleep well, Muth Mauk.”

  After Deen-yat left, Dar rose and paced slowly about her grand but empty hanmuthi. It was far larger than Zor-yat’s, which housed three generations. Dar gazed at the vacant sleeping chambers, feeling lonely. Again, she briefly saw sons and mothers in them. Are these memories bestowed by Fathma? Ghosts? An effect of my poisoning? All Dar knew for certain was that the images were growing more real and occurring more frequently. She thought of the generations that had lived within the space where she stood and felt like an interloper. She wondered if her muthuri was right and another should dwell in the hanmuthi. Yet Dar couldn’t imagine who.

  When Nir-yat arrived the following morning and saw Dar’s wound, she lost all decorum. She ran to Dar and embraced her, all the while making a keening sound deep in her throat. Dar’s eyes teared when she realized her sister was crying. “I’m all right, Nir,” she said, stroking Nir-yat’s thick hair. “I’m healing. My wound looks worse than it feels.”

  Nir-yat calmed. When she drew back to examine Dar, her mood changed. She grinned to see the gold band upon Dar’s head. “Baby sister’s Muth Mauk!”

  “Baby? I’ve twenty-five winters. That makes me older than you.”

  “Thwa. Those winters don’t count. You were reborn this summer, so this is your first winter. You belong on Muthuri’s teat.”

  “Next time I’m hungry, I’ll tell her you said so.”

  The remark made Nir-yat hiss. Dar hissed also, as naturally as if she had laughed that way all her life. “It pleases me to see you, Nir. I missed you.”

  “I missed you, too. Thir does also.” Nir-yat smiled. “She especially misses our room. Muthuri moved us from window chamber as soon as you left for Taiben.”

  Because she didn’t expect me to return, thought Dar, who kept that assumption to herself. “Where is Thir? I thought she’d be coming with you.”

  “She’s at Tok clan hall.” Nir-yat grinned. “She has velazul there.”

  “Is it serious?” asked Dar, glad that her sister finally had a lover.

  “She walked there in this weather. What do you think?”

  “But he would be her first velazul!”

  Dar’s sister smiled. “I remember saying same thing to you about Kovok-mah.” One glance at Dar’s face made Nir-yat regret her words. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you still cared for him.”

  “I shouldn’t,” said Dar. “Kath-mah won’t bless us.”

  “Yet head doesn’t rule chest. I’m sad for you.”

  “Did Muthuri tell you of our speech together?” said Dar, eager to speak of something else. “Do you know what happened in Taiben?”

  “Hai. But speak of our brother. Why does he remain there?”

  “Zna-yat’s there to enforce my will. Sons will guard new washavoki queen, but they won’t kill for her.”

  “Does that mean they’ll no longer die in battles?”

  “Hai.”

  “That’s joyful news! You accomplished much!”

  “You seemed surprised,” said Dar. “Didn’t Muthuri tell you?”

  “Thwa. She thinks you’re unfit to rule.”

  “Perhaps she’s right. I know little about being great mother. Another may be more suited.”

  “I must tell you story,” said Nir-yat. “Story about Grandmother.”

  Nir-yat’s abrupt change of subject puzzled Dar, as did her note of urgency. “What is this story?”

  “Grandmother was great mother before Zeta-yat. I was close to her. She visited old washavoki king often, and would have taught me washavoki speech had not Muthuri objected.” Nir-yat gave Dar a meaningful look. “Muthuri dislikes washavokis.” Then she resumed her story. “Five winters ago, Grandmother grew ill. Water filled her lungs, and Deen-yat said she would soon join Muth la. It’s said that great mothers see with Muth la’s eyes as death approaches, so they can know who should become next queen. Grandmother chose Zeta-yat, same great mother who chose you.”

  “She chose me because she had no other option,” said Dar. “I was only urkzimmuthi mother there.”

  Nir-yat ignored Dar’s comment. “What you should know is that Grandmother didn’t join Muth la after bestowing Fathma. She lingered in this world.”

  “Did she recover?” asked Dar.

  “How could she?” said Nir-yat. “She was dead.”

  “I’m confused.”

  “When mother receives Fathma, it and her spirit become one. When great mother passes Fathma to another, her spirit departs.”

  “So what happened?” asked Dar.

  “Grandmother became ghost, and she was treated like one. No one talked to her. Everyone behaved as if she wasn’t there.”

  “And if I pass on Fathma…”

  “I’m not speaking about you,” said Nir-yat quickly. “I’m forbidden to say what would happen.”

  “Forbidden by Muthuri?”

  Nir-yat acted as though she hadn’t heard Dar’s question. “I�
�m speaking about Grandmother. My grandmother who watched me with lonely eyes while I…” Nir-yat looked on the verge of crying again. She paused to compose herself. “I was silent because it’s unnatural to speak to those who are dead.”

  “Those were Muth Mauk’s very words after she made me queen!” said Dar.

  “Well, she should know,” replied Nir-yat. “I hope she didn’t linger like Grandmother.”

  “She didn’t.”

  “Now, in obedience to Muthuri, I’ll encourage you to give Fathma to another.”

  Dar grasped her sister’s hand. “Say to Muthuri that I heard you speak about giving Fathma to another. Tell her this: I will consider what you said.” Dar hoped those words would permit Nir-yat to answer truthfully when Zor-yat grilled her about their conversation. Daughters were required to obey their muthuris, and Nir-yat seemed distressed by her disobedience. It made Dar love her all the more.

  After Nir-yat’s cautionary tale, Dar immediately changed the conversation to Thir-yat’s new velazul. Nir-yat gave all the details of the romance, then filled Dar in on other gossip. The Yat clan hall was the size of a small town, so there was much to tell. Nir-yat was soon regaling Dar with a story about a mother with two velazuls. Neither knew about the other until both visited her on the same day. After Nir-yat described the calamitous meal that ensued, she concluded by saying, “So she learned having one velazul is better than having none.”

  Dar and Nir-yat talked into the afternoon before Dar returned to the subject of her sovereignty. “Nir, can you teach me how great mothers rule?”

  Nir-yat instantly grew somber. “That’s not my place.”

  “Who can I turn to? Muthuri? Muth-yat?”

  “Muthuri will make me repeat every question you ask, so why not ask her yourself?”

  Because, unlike you, she’ll try to deceive me, thought Dar.

  “Besides,” Nir-yat added, “I was still young when Grandmother died. Soon after Zeta-yat became Muth Mauk, she went to Taiben and never returned.”

  Dar pondered her predicament, then replied. “Hai. I should ask Muthuri.” She switched subjects and talked with her sister of other things before asking, “What was Grandmother’s name before she became Muth Mauk?”