“Do you have her?” asked Dar in Orcish.
“Hai, Muth Mauk,” replied Kovok-mah.
There was something about Kovok-mah’s voice that disquieted Dar. When she glanced into his eyes, he seemed ashamed. “Release her quickly.”
Beneath Kovok-mah’s snow-covered cloak was a lump so conspicuous that Dar was amazed that he had managed to get past the guards at the gates. The cloak was removed to reveal Girta’s body strapped to his back. It was wrapped in cloth that was further wrapped with rope. Zna-yat worked quickly to free the bundle. Then he gently lowered it to the floor, where he removed the bindings around the cloth wrapping and unrolled it to expose the captive inside.
With a single glance, Dar realized the magnitude of her blunder. Queen Girta sat up amid the cloth that had imprisoned her, still gagged and bound. She was shivering in her thin nightgown and her bare feet were blue from cold. Unable to speak, she glared about with wild eyes, resembling a snared animal in her terror and rage.
What have I done? thought Dar, understanding the cause of Kovok-mah’s shame. She spoke to him in the human tongue so Girta might understand. “Free her and see to her comfort.”
Kovok-mah undid the gag first, and Girta spoke as he untied her hands and feet. “How dare you!”
she said in a shrill voice.
“I did it for your welfare,” said Dar.
“Don’t lie to me! At least, spare me that.”
“I had to talk to you, and I couldn’t do it around Kol.”
“So you sent your brutes to...to...”
“Listen to me, Girta! Othar’s alive. He’s helping Kol.”
“Liar! Liar! Filthy lying whore.”
Girta’s hysteria convinced Dar there was little point in reasoning with her. Kindness seemed a more promising approach. Dar brought her thick wool cloak over to Girta. “Warm clothing will soon arrive. Until then, wear this.”
As Dar bent over to wrap Girta’s shoulders, the queen struck out and raked her nails across Dar’s cheeks. The orcs reacted immediately and lunged to seize Girta. Dar cried out “Gav!”—Stop! —before they grabbed the queen. The orcs froze, then slowly settled down. Dar touched her face and withdrew bloody fingers. “I’ve hurt this mother,” said Dar in Orcish. “She’s justly angry.”
The orcs’ reaction had further terrified Girta. She cowered, clutching Dar’s cloak around her. The queen still shivered, but Dar doubted it was from cold. “I’m sorry, Girta.”
Girta said nothing.
“I’d let you go right now,” said Dar. “But if I do that, I fear Kol will harm you. I know his secret, and if he thinks you know it, too, he’ll.” Dar could tell her words were having no effect. Does she even hear me?
Dar knew that time was quickly running out. The longer she held the queen, the greater the danger for Nagtha-yat and Magtha-jan. She knelt before Girta, taking care to keep out of striking distance. “I’ll do anything you want.”
“No you won’t,” said Girta in a flat voice.
“I will,” said Dar. “Just tell me.”
“Let me go. Right now.”
“You’re in a nightgown, and you can’t walk barefoot in the snow!”
“I will if you let me.”
“You’ll have clothes and boots soon,” said Dar, wondering why Sevren hadn’t arrived. “Then you can go. Until then listen to me.”
“Liar!” said Girta, stopping her ears with her hands.
As Dar stared at the queen with a mixture of frustration and remorse, she saw that the situation was hopeless. For the first time, she imagined the abduction from Girta’s viewpoint. It had to be her worst nightmare. I’ve been so stupid! She’ll never trust me now. Dar gloomily pondered her options and could envision none with a happy outcome. She decided that all she could do was free Girta when
Sevren arrived with clothing, apologize profusely, and leave with the orcs immediately. That course would surely doom Girta and lead to war, but both results seemed unavoidable. It was clear that Kol had outsmarted her.
Having decided to free Girta, Dar wanted to do it quickly. For that, she needed Sevren, and her impatience grew as she waited for him. It’s well past dawn. He’s late! It was midmorning before the barracks door opened and Sevren entered. He was snow-covered, and his expression was both surprised and disturbed. Dar didn’t hold back her anger. “Where are those clothes? I’ve been waiting far too long!”
“Clothes? What need have you for them?”
“For Girta, fool!”
“Girta? Your orcs killed her. All Taiben’s in an uproar. The gates were closed. It wasn’t easy getting out.”
“The queen’s not dead,” said Dar. “She’s right here!”
Sevren followed Dar’s gesture and spied Girta slumped on the floor, wrapped in Dar’s cloak. He walked over to her and bowed. “Your Majesty, all the criers say you’re slain.”
Girta looked up. “Slain?”
“Aye, Your Majesty. They say your orc guards did it.”
“What happened to them?” asked Dar, her voice urgent.
“Killed in a bloody fight.”
The news confirmed Dar’s worst fears. Remorse and grief left her stunned. It’s my fault they1 re d^d , she thought, fighting back tears.
“What of the prince?” asked Girta, her face animated for the first time.
“He’ll be crowned king this afternoon,” said Sevren. “Rumor says he’ll declare war.” He turned to Dar. “I came here to make sure you knew, though I hoped you’d already fled.”
“How can this be?” asked Girta. “How can this be?”
“I’m na a royal guardsman anymore. I hear my news from criers, like everyone else.”
“But I’m alive! How can they say I’m dead?”
“I suspect that’s the Queen’s Man’s doing,” replied Sevren.
“No,” said Girta. “It’s all a mistake.”
“How can you say that?” asked Dar.
“Yes, a mistake,” said Girta. “But one that’s easily corrected.” She turned to Dar. “Let me go to Taiben.”
“That won’t be safe.”
“My son’s there! He thinks I’m dead.” “Because Kol told him so,” said Dar. “He won’t let you prove him false.”
“You’re wrong.”
“You’re not talking sense,” said Dar. “Stay. You must.”
“She will na be safe here,” said Sevren. “Neither will you.”
Dar suddenly understood why Kovok-mah had been able to sneak Girta past the guards: Kol had given orders to let him pass. With a chill, she realized he planned to attack two queens at once. She spoke to Girta. “If the gates are closed, they’ll be manned by Kol’s men.”
“They’re called the Queen’s Men,” said Girta. “Their loyalty is to me.”
“I’m na so sure of that,” said Sevren. “I know some of those men.”
“I won’t abandon my son,” said Girta. She spoke to Dar. “Lend me your boots. I think they’ll fit me.”
Dar thought the matter over, weighing hope against pessimism. There was a chance the queen’s appearance would unravel Kol’s plans, but only if Girta received the reception that she expected. Dar doubted she would. Then Dar envisioned trying to drag Girta away from her child, who had fallen into Othar’s clutches. She sighed and acquiesced to Girta’s plea. “You shouldn’t go alone. I’ll provide an escort.”
Girta objected, but when Dar made it clear that the escort wasn’t optional, she grudgingly agreed to it. Afterward, Kovok-mah approached Dar. “Muth Mauk, I brought this mother here. If she’s harmed, it’ll be my fault. Please let me protect her.”