Dar had been reborn urkzimmuthi and Fathma had made her queen, yet Kovok-mah was aware that she lacked his senses. She seemed blithely unaware of how her scent betrayed her feelings. Everyone in the room was conscious of them, and while they wouldn’t speak of them to her, they would among themselves. How can Dargu not know this? Kovok-mah thought that she might but had chosen to defy convention. Her will was always strong. He worried where such defiance could lead.
Toward the end of the feast, the falfhissi urn made its rounds. By Kovok-mah’s third draught, he was unable to take his eyes from Dar. The scent of his longing filled the air, but he no longer cared. He was caught up in reliving that night in Tarathank when Dar chose to acknowledge his feelings. He recalled standing in the pool, his skin wet and cool, when she first touched him. Kovok-mah could almost feel the warmth of her hands. If she were to touch me again, could I deny her? He felt weak, and doubted he could.
A hand touched Muth-goth’s shoulder, rousing her from sleep. She opened her eyes. A mother bowed. “Matriarch, travelers have arrived.”
Muth-goth blinked and fought to leave the world of dreams. Few traveled in winter and fewer still in the frigid night. Muth-goth could think of no traveler so important that she should be awakened. “Build up hearth fire. Then help me to my stool.” Muth-goth thought of greeting the travelers in her sleeping cloak, but decided against it. When the mother returned from feeding the fire, Muth-goth asked her to fetch her kefs and day cloak. Old age made dressing an ordeal, and the elderly matriarch needed help with it and walking to her stool.
When the travelers were ushered in, they appeared to Muth-goth as frosted blurs. She rose with difficulty to greet them. “I am Muth-goth.”
The foremost blur bowed. “I am Muth-pah.”
“Muth-pah! I haven’t seen you for dozen winters.” Muth-goth smiled wryly. “I can scarcely see you now. Come closer.”
Muth-pah moved closer, and Muth-goth squinted at her face. “You’ve grown old, too. Why would you travel in midst of winter?”
“Queen from west sits on throne.”
Muth-goth stared at her visitor, momentarily dumbfounded. When she spoke, her voice was filled with awe. “Are you certain? No messengers have come this way. How did you learn this news?”
“Velasa-pah himself was messenger.”
“You’ve had vision?”
“Hai, and I’ve been journeying ever since. These are urgent times when hope and fear meet. Tomorrow we must leave for royal hall.”
Muth-goth slowly lowered herself to her stool. “My body is failing me. I can barely journey across my hanmuthi.”
“Then sons must carry you. Queen is in great peril. I have learned this in my vision.”
“How can we do anything about that?”
“I don’t know,” replied Muth-pah. “Yet we must try.”
Muth-goth sighed as if already wearied to the bone. “I think I will be traveling only eastward. This hall I will never see again.”
“That is likely for both of us, old friend. I have foreseen our journey. We will reach royal hall. Beyond that, all is darkness.”
Dar lay on her bed, her thoughts chaotic. Kovok-mah’s tale of the mother who was thwada replayed through her mind. Imagining that mother’s loneliness, Dar wondered about the nature of her transgression. She knew that only blessed couples were permitted intercourse, but unblessed sons and mothers were free to give love. The intimacies she had experienced with Kovok-mah were commonplace in orcish courtship. Mothers talked about them freely. Both Nir and Thir have been given love. Yet Kovok-mah’s tale hinted that such acts could be forbidden also. Where is the line drawn? Who draws it?
Frost coated the panes on her window, rendering the moonlight soft and murky. Dar could barely see Kovok-mah sitting in his chamber across the room and had no idea if he was awake. Nir-yat slept close by, sitting upright like Kovok-mah. Dar was glad that she was there. If it were otherwise, Dar envisioned herself crossing the room. He’s so close. It would take but a moment. Dar recalled Meera-yat’s advice about choosing her mintari and how the deed couldn’t be undone. Kovok-mah would be here every night. Dar wondered if, over time, it would become easier to remain in her bed. Or harder.
Nineteen
The noon sun sailed in a clear blue sky, though the air was crisp. Thunder’s breath smoked as he trotted toward the royal stables, which were apart from those used by the guards and courtiers. Six mounted guardsmen were stationed by its door. When it opened, Queen Girta emerged riding a dappled gray. Tolum Kol was pleased to note that no one else accompanied her. He spurred Thunder in her direction.
The queen, followed by her escort, met him in the middle of the courtyard. Kol reined in his mount and bowed from the saddle. “Your Majesty. A brisk day, but a fine one to be out.”
“I’m thinking the same,” said Girta. She headed her horse for the palace gates. “There’s little snow on the windward plain. We’ll ride there.”
Tolum Kol rode alongside Girta through Taiben’s cobbled streets. When they passed outside the city gates, the queen spurred her horse to a gallop. Kol kept Thunder apace, and the two rode over the dry, brown grass, which had only a dusting of snow. When Girta slowed her mare to a trot, Kol did the same with his stallion. “You ride well, sir,” said Girta. “I would have thought you a cavalry officer had my son not told me you served with orcs.”
“He repeated my tales?”
“Every one. They amused him greatly.”
“I’m glad they entertained him.”
Girta chuckled. “The one about the orc and the sow was especially merry.”
“If the prince can laugh at orcs, he’ll fear them less. That will benefit him. Orcs can smell fear.”
“The same is said of dogs, though I don’t credit it.”
“It’s no fable when it comes to orcs. They sniff out other feelings, too. Anger, pain, love. They’re alert to any weakness.”
Girta laughed. “Is love a weakness?”
“I’ve seen men undone by it. Orcs, too.”
“An orc undone by love?”
“Perhaps lust is a better word.”
Girta looked intrigued. “I hope that’s one tale you didn’t tell my son.”
“It’s not fit for young ears.”
Girta smiled. “Or mine?”
“You know it in part already. How do you think a woman could become the orcs’ queen?”
“Do you mean Dar?”
“The same.”
“She’s dead, so speak no ill of her.”
“She’s not dead. She’s far too clever.”
“I assure you she is,” said Girta. “She was nearly so when I last saw her.”
“I’ve heard that story. She was victim of a poisoned wound. But where’s that deadly blade?”
“An orc took it.”
Kol smiled. “That was convenient. Don’t be surprised if you hear from Dar again.”
“So you’re saying she was false?”
“I knew her from the regiment. She was ever guileful. How else could she manage to get orcs inside the palace? They remain there still.”
“They’re there for my protection. Orcs honor women.”
Kol looked surprised. “Who told you that?”
“Dar.”
“Then why did they keep them as slaves?”
“It was the army, not the orcs, that conscripted them.”
“Only because the orcs insisted, they refused to fight otherwise.”
“I have a different understanding,” said Girta.
“And it’s not my place to change your mind. I’m only a tolum. You have nobles to advise you. If Dar’s dead, my worries are groundless. I’ll speak no more of them.”
“Good, because I’m getting chilled.” Girta turned her horse toward Taiben’s gates. Kol and her guard followed her.
When the queen dismounted in the palace courtyard, she turned to Kol. “Join me for some hot spiced wine. A guardsman can care for your mount.”
/> “You’re very kind,” said Kol.
“Come, I’m frozen.”
Kol dismounted, handed Thunder’s reins to a guardsman, and followed the queen into the palace. She led him to a large but private room with a window that overlooked the city. A fire blazed in the fireplace, and a servant was standing by with a ewer of spiced wine. He poured two goblets at Girta’s command and heated the liquid with a hot poker from the fire. Girta warmed her hands on her goblet before sipping the steaming wine.
Tolum Kol took a warming drink and sighed contentedly. “This day was colder than it looked. Your Majesty has the hardiness of a seasoned trooper.”
“I grew up on the western plains.”
“I’ve campaigned in that region. They say its winters are harsh.”
“And they speak true, yet I rode year-round.”
“Then you must find Taiben confining.”
“I do at times. I imagine the women you know lead more adventurous lives.”
“I know no women,” said Kol. “I have sisters, but I haven’t seen them in years. A military man leads an unsettled life.”
“But women served in your regiments.”
“Those branded wretches! Honorable men avoided them.”
“Why?” asked Girta. “Because they were unfortunate?”
“Their misfortune was their own doing. When we levied women, the villages sent their troublemakers. Slatterns, thieves, and worse. Still, I loathed branding them.”
“Then why did you?”
“Our king’s command. Unbranded women fled. Orcs are not gentle masters.”
“Dar said differently.”
“She knew how to please them.”
“And how was that?” asked Girta.
“To say, I must violate your injunction.”
“And speak ill of her?”
“Yes, and most indelicately.”
Despite herself, Girta was intrigued. “Say your tale. I’ll hear it.”
“I’m told orc females look not unlike human ones. Though bull orcs think our women ugly, they’re not repelled by them.”
“Are you saying that…that…” Girta shuddered.
“I said it’s an indelicate subject.”
“How unnatural!”
“Unnatural, but not so uncommon. We’ve all heard of shepherds who take solace with their ewes. A woman can’t fight off a lustful orc. But Dar was different. She didn’t resist. Quite the opposite.”
“I can’t believe that.”
“Ask any of your royal guards about the orc wench. They were there. That’s what Dar was named. A title she bore proudly.”
“Are you saying she whored her way to the crown?”
“I don’t believe she did. Whoring may have gained her some advantage, but I think she offered them more than her favors.”
“What?”
“Your realm.”
Girta took a deep swallow of wine. “Can you explain your meaning?”
“Orcs are cruel and savage fighters, but they’re not clever. We humans have always used our wits to best them. That’s why they fight for us rather than against us. But don’t doubt their resentment. I liken them to dogs. We’re the masters, yet if we drop our guard they’ll tear out our throats. I think Dar offered to betray her kind in exchange for the crown. Look how she fooled the Queen’s Man and your husband. And that treaty she had you sign brought orcs inside the palace.”
“How would that treaty benefit her?” asked Girta. “She was dying.”
“If she truly was, it gained her naught. But I’d keep an eye on your orc guards.”
“The same guards you’re teaching the prince not to fear?”
“Fear encourages attack. You should be calm, but wary.”
“I keep a wary eye on everyone. Men are dangerous, too. And as you’ve said, they’re more treacherous than orcs.”
“You’re right about that,” said Kol. “I trust your son can defend himself.”
“He has a fencing master.”
“Would he be safe against a cutthroat with a dirk? Assassins don’t abide by fencers’ rules.”
“He’s only eight.”
“All the more reason to know a few tricks.”
“Tricks you could teach him?” asked Girta.
“I’ve eluded death more than once. I’d gladly show the prince what I know.”
“When he becomes king, I want him to know more than war.”
“You’re wise to hate it. I’ve seen too much to call war glorious or noble. The prince should fight only to save his life or his kingdom.”
“Then we’re like-minded in this,” said Girta. “It would please me if you spent time with the prince.”
“I’d be honored to instruct him.”
Queen Girta called for Lokung after Tolum Kol departed, and asked him to fetch a guardsman, specifying that he be one who served on the summer campaign. The steward left and returned with a man named Wulfar. Girta sent Lokung outside the room before she spoke. “I’m told you fought for my husband this summer.”
“I did, Yer Majesty.”
“I’m curious about a woman who served in the regiments on that campaign. I’m told she was notorious. They called her the orc wench.”
“Has Sevren complained to Yer Majesty?”
“Why do ask that?”
“I’ve heard he has yer ear.”
“So?”
“He was sweet on her. Still is, I think. So if he’s told tales against me…”
“He hasn’t. I just want to know about the orc wench.”
“Well, she tupped an orc. I know that. And it killed a man for her.”
“I see,” said Girta. “What happened to her?”
“She must have run off with her orc. Leastways, she was gone when the fighting stopped. I thought she was dead until she showed up here.”
“Can you tell me any more about her?”
“Not really, Yer Majesty. The rest of the guard will tell ye much the same.”
“You may leave. And send my steward to me as you depart.”
As much as the queen disliked admitting it, she conceded that Lokung had been right in disparaging Sevren. Even if Sevren isn’t a traitor, his loyalties are divided. Girta could see no reason for Wulfar to lie to her, and his assertion explained why Sevren had helped Dar. When Lokung entered the chamber, Girta instructed him to bar Sevren from further audiences. The steward bowed and departed, his expression neutral.
When the queen was alone again, she took stock of her situation. She had heard much that compounded her worries. Tolum Kol seemed right; her uneasiness with the orcs was justified. Girta realized that her belief in Dar’s sincerity had convinced her to make a treaty with the orcs and solicit their protection. What if she played me false? Further questions followed. Is Dar still alive? If so, what are her intentions?
Though Girta had no way to check all of Tolum Kol’s claims, her interview with the guardsman had verified a major one. It seemed certain that Dar had taken an orc for a lover. A woman capable of that was capable of anything. Yet despite its worrisome implications, Girta was glad to have confirmed Kol’s story, for it proved his truthfulness. And I sorely need someone I can trust.
Twenty
In the two days following Kovok-mah’s arrival, Dar received seven more candidates for her mintaris in the Great Chamber. The sons from the Hak clan and the Jan clan had been selected by their clan’s matriarchs. Although Dar knew their names, they were strangers to her. Nagtha-yat, whom she knew and had requested, accompanied the Jan clan sons. The Tok clan was also represented. Kak-tok had been recommended by Nir-yat. The other candidate proved a delightful surprise. He was Lama-tok. He grinned broadly as he bowed. “Dargu! One of your wolves has returned.” Then he howled.
Dar laughed. “How good to see you again! How’s Duth-tok?”
“My brother was blessed upon his return and now lives with his muthvashi in Smat clan hall.”
Custom required Dar to bless each son by name, and
she interrupted her conversation with her old traveling companion to do that. After the blessings were accomplished, she felt at a loss. The mixture of strange and familiar faces did not suggest a single course of action. The sons gazed at her expectantly. Dar’s mind began to race, and for a moment, she feared she’d have nothing to say. Then the memories of a long line of queens came to her. Each had overcome similar awkwardness. Encouraged by their example, Dar grew calm and words came to her.
Dar gazed into the eyes of each son before she spoke. “I know some of you, and some I’ll come to know. Yet all have been deemed worthy to stand before me, and I’m pleased you’re here. For many generations, your clans have sent sons to serve great mothers. Yet there has never been great mother such as I. I’m not sure why Muth la set me on this throne. I didn’t seek to become queen. I’m still surprised I’m here.
“Because I’ve been reborn, I look strange to you. My spirit is urkzimmuthi, but my body still has its old form. Perhaps that’s part of Muth la’s plan, I don’t know. What I do know is that Fathma unites me with all great mothers. Their spirits have mingled with mine, and my fate is same as theirs—to be muthuri to all urkzimmuthi. When you serve me, it’s our race you truly serve.”
Dar saw affirmation in the sons’ expressions. All seemed proud to be there, and their attitude was gratifying. It reminded her of how readily the orcs in the regiments had obeyed her when she led them against the king. Dar realized that sons were used to being led and not prone to question a mother’s authority. No wonder queens use mintaris to rule. Dar was inclined to accept all the candidates on the spot, but decided it would be prudent to wait. Instead, she turned them over to Nir-yat, who arranged for their lodging.
Throughout the remainder of the day, she met with each candidate individually in order to get to know him better. Every son provided a detailed genealogy and spoke of his profession, which was often associated with his clan. The Jan clan was known as the Iron Clan and both its sons were metalworkers. One was skilled at foundry work, and the other fashioned armor. The Tok clan was the Stone Clan. Dar already knew that Lama-tok was a mason. Kak-tok, who was his third cousin, was a stone carver. As Dar expected, one of the Hak clan sons made sand ice, but the other grew crops.
[Queen of Orcs 03] - Royal Destiny Page 12
