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 ^ 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.”