[Queen of Orcs 03] - Royal Destiny

by Morgan Howell

  “We must be blessed first,” replied Dar. “If that doesn’t happen, my wishes are of no consequence.”

  Muth-mah ceased her questioning, but it had had its effect. The look of disgust on Muth-smat’s face had deepened.

  Muth-yat spoke up. “There is disagreement. Some among us think that we should test Muth Mauk’s fitness, while others think it’s unnecessary. This matter seems to require stones. Muth Mauk, will you call for them?”

  Courtesy required that the call for stones be phrased as a question, but only one answer was permissible. “Hai,” said Dar. “Muth-yat, will you open door?”

  Muth-yat bowed and opened the double doors to the Great Chamber, which were closed only when the council was in session. Zna-yat stood outside them. “Bring stones,” Dar commanded.

  Zna-yat returned a short while later bearing a black, wide-mouthed pottery vessel. He set it by the throne, bowed, and departed, closing the doors behind him. Muth-yat reached into the vessel and removed the stones it contained. She handed two to each matriarch, one green and one black. Afterward, she spoke. “Muth Mauk, we are uncertain where wisdom lies. Should we give you Muth la’s Draught? Is this test unneeded? These stones will guide us. Do you wish to speak before they decide?”

  “Hai,” said Dar. “Muth la has given me many visions. They have guided me. Yet not all have come to pass. This means I still have more tasks to fulfill.”

  “If it’s Muth la’s will,” said Muth-yat, “you shall drink and live.”

  “Muth la’s Draught is poison,” replied Dar. “Anyone who drinks it dies. Muth la prevents death by calling us to avoid killing.”

  “Stones will answer this question,” said Muth-yat. “Black means Muth Mauk is tested. Green means she is not.”

  Each matriarch moved apart from the others and turned away so none could see what color she chose. Then each placed her hand in the vessel and dropped a stone. The click of them hitting the pottery was the only sound in the chamber. Muth-yat lifted the vessel and presented it to Dar. “Muth Mauk, will you count the stones?”

  Dar reached into the black vessel.

  “Green.

  “Black.

  “Black.

  “Green.

  “Black.

  “Green.

  “Black.

  “Four black. Three green,” said Dar.

  “Stones say Muth Mauk should be tested,” said Muth-yat. “Does this council accept their judgment?”

  “Hai,” replied the matriarchs together.

  “Then I will submit to your wisdom,” said Dar. “Muth-yat, will you open chamber doors?” Muth-yat did so. Zna-yat was outside. Dar spoke to him. “Zna-yat, have Jvar-yat bring Muth la’s Draught to us.”

  As Dar waited to die, memories from the queens who had taken Muth la’s Draught came to her unbidden. It tastes of honey, but bitter. It acts quickly. I’ll be nauseous and gasp for air. When I start to tremble, someone will step forward to receive Fathma. Dar was certain that it would be Muth-yat. Before, when Dar had been near death, she had seen the worthiness of everyone’s spirit. It’ll make no difference this time. I won’t be given a choice.

  Jvar-yat entered the Great Chamber, interrupting Dar’s thoughts. She bowed very low. “Forgive me, Muth Mauk, Muth la’s Draught is not yet ready. It’s my fault. I drank too much falfhissi at my feast and began steeping seeds too late. More time is required.”

  “When will it be ready?” asked Dar.

  “Tomorrow morning.”

  Dar regarded the matriarchs, whose faces betrayed their mixed reactions. “We’ll meet again then.”

  Jvar-yat bowed and departed. Then the matriarchs did the same, leaving Dar alone in the Great Chamber. She gazed through its windows at the surrounding mountains. Falling snow made them fade, so they seemed more like memories of mountains than real. This time tomorrow, all that will remain of me will be memories.

  Twenty-eight

  Dar remained in the Great Chamber waiting for her turmoil to subside. Any relief at her reprieve was spoiled by its temporary nature, and she wanted to be calm when she returned to her hanmuthi. Nir-yat and her mintaris would be waiting for her, doubtlessly aware of what had transpired. The whole hall probably knows by now.

  Dar pushed dismal thoughts aside to ponder how to best use her remaining time. She concluded that the next queen must be warned about Kol. If he followed form, he would present himself as a friend. Dar did not want her successor to be fooled into voiding the treaty and resurrecting the orc regiments.

  Despite her concerns, Dar saw no point in speaking to Muth-yat. Instead, she decided to give that task to Nir-yat. There seemed a chance that, once Dar was gone, Muth-yat would listen to her. The principal problem would be explaining the nature of the threat to Nir-yat. Dar feared her sister would not easily grasp how Kol would use deception. Dar was thinking about how to coach Nir-yat when Zna-yat rushed into the chamber, too excited even to bow. “Muth Mauk! More matriarchs have arrived! Muth-pah and Muth-goth!”

  “How is that possible? Muth-goth doesn’t travel, and I didn’t summon Muth-pah.”

  “I don’t know,” replied Zna-yat. “All I’ve heard is that they’re here and both are suffering from their journey. Muth-goth arrived on litter. They’ve gone to Muth-yat’s hanmuthi.”

  Dar grinned. “I doubt Muth-yat was pleased to receive these guests.”

  “I think this also,” said Zna-yat.

  “I wish to see lorekeeper right away.”

  “I’ll bring her,” said Zna-yat.

  Dar waited anxiously, for she was uncertain if a decision made by stones could be reversed. When Yev-yat arrived, Dar put the question to her. The lorekeeper’s answer was not reassuring. “It’s never happened.”

  “But today’s circumstances are unique.”

  “One can argue that,” said Yev-yat. “I would, but I’m no clan matriarch. They’ll decide this matter, not you or I.”

  “Then I must wait on their decision.”

  “I hope it goes your way, Muth Mauk.”

  Dar spoke with the lorekeeper at length about the relations between queens and matriarchs. Not surprisingly, they were often contentious. Nevertheless, the stones were seldom used to resolve disputes. The council ruled by consensus, and when it couldn’t be reached, disputed actions were postponed. Unfortunately, deciding whether a new queen was fit to rule could not be put off. Hence, the stones were employed, and the resulting vote was called the stones’ decision, not the matriarchs’.

  Despite Yev-yat’s uncertainty over whether a second vote would be permitted, Dar returned to her hanmuthi feeling hopeful for the first time in days. The arrival of the two matriarchs seemed like Muth la’s intervention. Dar could think of no other explanation, and that changed her outlook. She began to see the next day’s meeting as another chance to win the matriarchs’ support. Dar sensed their support would be needed beyond the upcoming meeting, for she suspected another trial would soon be upon her. Her latest vision quickly came to mind. She felt that if she were spared, it would be for Muth la’s purposes. But before I worry what they are, I have to survive tomorrow’s meeting.

  Dar returned to her hanmuthi, which was abuzz. The arrival of the two matriarchs seemed good news, and everyone had tried to learn as much as they could about it. It had not been easy, for the new visitors were sequestered with the other matriarchs. Nagtha-yat had spoken to Muth-yat, who had informed him that Muth-pah and Muth-goth were too exhausted to see Dar before the council met. Nir-yat had found out that Deen-yat had been called to the hanmuthi. The healer had remained there, leaving only briefly to procure some herbs. Nir-yat had questioned her when she did, but Deen-yat had been closemouthed, as was her custom concerning patients. Zna-yat had located the sons who journeyed with the matriarchs and spoken to them. “Three among them are candidates for your mintaris—Treen-pah, Ven-goth, and Auk-goth—so their duty is to you. Do you wish to speak with them?”

  “Hai,” said Dar. “I’ll go now to Great Cha
mber. Send Treen-pah to me first.”

  Soon afterward, Dar greeted the Pah clan son. They recognized each other immediately, and Treen-pah was so astounded that he almost forgot to bow after Dar blessed him. Then, when he did bow, his head nearly touched the floor.

  “I remember you, Treen-pah,” said Dar. “You were with those sons who captured me and my companions.”

  “Forgive me, Muth Mauk. I was only obeying our law.”

  “You behaved properly. I was still washavoki then, for I had yet to be reborn.”

  “Until I arrived here, I didn’t know rebirth still happened. And I had no idea it was you who had been reborn,” said Treen-pah. “This journey has brought many surprises. None of my clan has stood before queen since Tarathank fell.”

  “That’s because your clan was lost,” said Dar. “It’s lost no more. I’m queen Velasa-pah foretold.”

  “If I had wisdom, I might have known that, for everything changed after you came our way.”

  “Have you improved your hall?”

  “Hai. We’re adding more hanmuthis so sons and mothers can eat together. And because sons no longer patrol mountains, I think more children will soon arrive.”

  “Such news gladdens my chest,” said Dar. “But, tell me—why did Muth-pah journey here?”

  “She had vision. That’s all I know. We’ve been traveling ever since, except for brief rest at Goth clan hall. We traveled thirty days through deep snow, encountering many storms. Then six days ago, Muth-goth had vision. Since then, we’ve traveled night and day, seldom resting.”

  “How have matriarchs fared?” asked Dar.

  “Our matriarch is much worn by her journey, but Muth-goth is worse. Everyone fears she’s dying.”

  “She has healer now. Her vision has saved her.”

  “Perhaps, Muth Mauk, but Muth-goth said her vision was meant to save you.”

  Six days ago, I met Muth-smat and Muth-zut, thought Dar. That vision was no coincidence! But if the poison had been ready this morning… Dar’s hair rose at the thought.

  After Dar sent Treen-pah for some well-deserved rest, she saw Ven-goth and Auk-goth. Auk-goth she knew, for he had guided Dar and her companions part of their way homeward. Exceptionally large and strong, he appeared little wearied by his difficult journey. After Dar blessed him, she grinned. “My old sapaha has returned.”

  “Hai, Muth Mauk. Yet if you bite my neck, it will be you who’ll guide me.”

  Dar had never met Ven-goth, but she knew of him. After she blessed him, she asked, “Were you not Fre-pah’s velazul?”

  “Hai, Muth Mauk, until my muthuri withheld her blessing.”

  “She wanted to keep you close, and Pah clan hall was far from hers.”

  “That was her reason.”

  “Yet my hanmuthi is farther still, and if I bite your neck, it will become your home.”

  “Muth-goth told me that, but I was willing to come.”

  “Becoming mintari doesn’t mean you can’t be blessed. Do you think Fre-pah would be willing to live in this hall?”

  Ven-goth’s face lit up, and he was unable to control his grin. “Hai, hai, Muth Mauk! She would be most pleased.”

  Dar smiled. “It’s rare to hear son speak for mother.”

  “Fre-pah’s chest and mine are one, Muth Mauk. Ask anyone.”

  “Then I’ll speak of this to Muth-pah and Muth-goth. But remember, I have yet to bite your neck.”

  Ven-goth bowed low. “I hope you will, Muth Mauk, for I would be honored to serve one so wise.”

  After speaking with the Goth clan candidates, Dar headed for her hanmuthi. The evening’s meal would be her first in thirty-three days that wasn’t a feast, and Dar looked forward to a quiet dinner. It had been a tumultuous day, and the entire hall was affected. As Dar passed through its corridors, she sensed the tenseness in the air. Every son and mother appeared to know something momentous was in the offing. There are few secrets here, Dar thought, suddenly realizing that she must tell Yev-yat not to reveal her latest vision. Before Muth-pah and Muth-goth arrived, Dar had felt the clan should be aware of its danger, but circumstances seemed to be changing. There’ll be panic if everyone knows what I’ve seen.

  As a new member of the municipal guard, Sevren got undesirable duties. Night watch was one of them, for the plague of thieves had turned evenings dangerous. Midway through his third straight night of patrolling Taiben’s dark streets, Sevren heard a low voice. “Psst! Guardsman!”

  Sevren drew his sword, then looked about. He was in a poor section of town, where all the windows were shuttered tight. His watchman’s torch cast the only light. Beyond its pale circle lay only shadows and vague, inky shapes. “Who calls me?”

  “I do,” replied the voice.

  Sevren looked in its direction and saw a shadow move at the base of a wall. Wrapped in layers of rags, the man looked like a lump of refuse. Sevren advanced toward him.

  “I mean ye no harm,” said the man, “and could give none even if I meant it. I’m blind and crippled.”

  “Then how did you know I was a guardsman?”

  “Yer walk. A gait speaks tales if ye have ears fer it. I’ve heared yers three nights runnin’. I know ye walk yer rounds sober but not timid. It’s a proper gait, and I judge ye a proper man. Not the kind to shake a beggar for his alms.”

  “A flattering description, but I have na coin for you.”

  “No guardsman ever does, but I have something for ye.”

  “What?”

  “A warning. The Taker roams about this night.”

  Sevren thought the beggar must be mad, but he humored him. “What’s the Taker? And what does it take?”

  “Folks’ spirits. It makes them thieves. And worse.”

  “Is it man, woman, or beast?”

  “Two men, carryin’ a third by the sounds of it.”

  “So why haven’t you been taken?” asked Sevren in a joking tone.

  “Ye walk by thrice each night. Have ye ever seen me? Nay, I’m not worth takin’. But it took a guardsman where ye’re standin’ now, just six nights ago. Took a woman afore that.”

  “How?”

  “Magic, I suppose. A voice speaks and people change. Their steps lose that spark, like somethin’s missin’. I’d say it was their spirit.”

  Sevren’s tone turned less frivolous. “How do you know they steal?”

  “They all have the same step, the ones that go by night. They go by day, too, but mostly by night. I’ve heared them doin’ thin’s. Robbin’. Killin’. Grabbin’ folk. They’re men. They’re women. Young. Old. But they all walk without that spark.”

  “This sounds like sorcery.”

  “What does a beggar know of that? But I heared the Taker goin’ up this lane just a bit afore ye come along. So take care, guardsman, or ye’ll be took.”

  “Thank you for your warning,” said Sevren. “I’ll sharpen my eyes and my ears also.” Then he sheathed his sword and continued on his rounds.

  Sevren’s first thought was to dismiss the beggar’s claims as delusions. Sorcerers were powerful men, the counselors of kings and nobles. None had cause to slink about procuring sneak thieves and thugs. Yet the beggar’s earnestness made his warning hard to ignore, and Sevren went only a little way before he extinguished his torch. When he resumed advancing in the dark, he did so with a light tread and an alert ear. Farther up the street, Sevren heard a noise. He froze and listened. He thought he heard a pair of men walking, their shuffling tread made heavy by a burden they shared.

  Sevren stared up the gloomy street. It appeared as a ribbon of dark gray between the even darker houses. If a dusting of snow hadn’t lightened the frozen slush on the road, Sevren might not have seen the moving shape. He strained to make it out, and it seemed to be two men bearing someone in a litter. Sevren’s skin crawled as it had when he entered the mage’s tower, and that sensation overwhelmed all the arguments of reason. He turned and ran without a moment’s hesitation. Sevren didn’t stop running until h
e was on the far side of town.

  Twenty-nine

  Worry made Dar’s sleep fitful, and she was tired and tense as she prepared for the council’s meeting. The session could not begin until Muth la’s Draught was ready, and that didn’t happen until it was approaching noon. As soon as Dar was told that the poison had been made, she went to the Great Chamber and sent word to the matriarchs.

  The procession that arrived was much different from the previous day’s. First came Muth-goth, carried by two sons on a stretcher. She breathed in gurgling gasps and was accompanied by Deen-yat, who stayed by the matriarch’s side after the sons departed. Muth-pah entered next. Dressed in an antique manner, she gave the impression of some stern figure stepping out of ancient tales. The other matriarchs followed. They seemed subdued by Muth-pah’s presence.

  Dar blessed each matriarch, then said, “Custom permits a healer’s presence if she swears to silence about what she hears. Deen-yat, do you so swear?”

  “I do.”

  “Good,” said Dar. “Then we must begin anew. Shall I call for stones?”

  “There’s no need,” said Muth-yat, “for stones have already spoken. What needs to be called for is Muth la’s Draught.”

  “There are two here who haven’t cast their stones,” said Dar.

  “Each morning, golden eye rises and new day starts,” replied Muth-yat. “Yet what is past remains unchanged. You can’t alter history to suit your whims.”

  “What foolishness!” said Muth-tok. “Let stones decide again.”

  “If we allow that,” replied Muth-yat, “stones’ decision would never be final. I say Muth Mauk’s fitness must be tested, for stones have decreed it. She must call for Muth la’s Draught.”

  “If she’s forced to drink without calling for stones again,” said Muth-jan, “she mustn’t drink overmuch. We’ll need some Draught for her successor.”

  “I, for one, will question that successor’s fitness,” said Muth-tok, staring ominously at Muth-yat, “and I’m not alone. If you become queen, you won’t cast stones. But you’ll receive their judgment.”