“I killing only.”
“That is not proper living. I grow crops.”
“I wish grow crops, but I have no dirt.”
Zna-yat smiled. “I think you mean ‘land.’ Do your mothers lack wisdom? They should let you grow crops on their land. It is better than killing.”
“Washavoki mothers seldom own land.”
“Then who does?”
“Whoever...” Sevren tried to think of the Orcish words for “pay” or “buy” but he didn’t know if they even existed. “Whoever gives gift for it.”
“Gift to who?”
“To son who owns land,” replied Sevren. “I have no gift, so I have no land. I kill and get little gifts. Someday have enough for land.”
“Washavokis are strange and foolish.”
“Hai, Zna-yat, I think also.”
Zna-yat walked quietly awhile, seemingly puzzled by what Sevren had told him. At last, he asked, “Sev-ron, what gift is as good as land?”
Rather than explain, Sevren pulled out his purse and emptied the twelve gold coins it contained into his palm. It was his life savings. “These,” he said.
Zna-yat grinned incredulously. “Bits of yellow iron? That worth land? Why?”
Sevren gazed at the coins and was infected by Zna-yat’s sense of absurdity. He replied by saying the only thing that came to mind. “Yellow iron is pretty.”
“Hai,” replied Zna-yat, shifting the straps of his pack, “but heavy.”
Sevren put the coins away. “I think urkzimmuthi have more wisdom. Land better than yellow iron. Food from land gives life.”
“Mothers also give life. That’s why they own land.”
Sevren imagined what Kol would do with the land about the Yat clan hall. Give it to a follower, he surmised. Some thug who’ll have peasants till the earth and take most of what they grow. He envisioned drunken feasts in the hall’s Great Chamber feting Kol as its owner’s patron and lord. The idea was infuriating. He noted that Zna-yat was looking at him. He smells my anger. “I thinking no washavoki should have urkzimmuthi land. They too evil to possess it.”
“Hai, Sev-ron. We must prevent that.”
By late afternoon, the marchers headed eastward, having passed through the southernmost range of the Urkheit Mountains. They were in urkzimmuthi territory, separated from the washavoki realm by tall heights that were crested by a formidable ridge. Mountains extended in all directions, forming a landscape familiar to the orcs. Toward evening, the road merged with one Dar recognized. She had traveled it to reach Kovok-mah’s muthuri’s hall.
Dar left Nir-yat’s side to catch up with her brother. “You must have traveled this road often,” she said.
“Hai, many times,” replied Zna-yat.
“If we didn’t stop, when would we reach our hall?”
“Before dawn, but not much before.”
“Then we shall stop to eat this night, but not to sleep. I wish to reach our hall as soon as possible.” Zna-yat bowed his head. “Hai, Muth Mauk. If you grow tired, I’ll carry you.”
“You’re kind, but that will be unnecessary.”
“Please, Sister, don’t overtax yourself.”
“I wear no armor and carry no burden. I’ll be fine.”
“Muth Mauk, I think you carry greatest burden of all.”
Dar smiled sadly, but didn’t reply. As she headed back to Nir-yat’s side, Sevren spoke to her in the human tongue. “Your Majesty, a word.”
“What is it?”
“Why na send scouts ahead? Your orcs can move quickly, especially if they shed their armor. There’s na point in marching blind.”
“That’s a good idea,” said Dar. She called Auk-goth and Treen-pah over to her, judging them the fastest runners. “Leave your armor for others to carry,” she said. “I want you to go ahead and discover what washavokis are doing. Don’t fight them or let them see you. Auk-goth, go to pass. Do you know way from here to New Road?”
“Hai. We came this way with matriarchs.”
“Good,” said Dar. “Treen-pah, I want you to go to Yat clan hall.”
“Hai, Muth Mauk. I know way.”
“Come back and warn me if you spot danger. Otherwise, go to Yat clan hall. I’ll arrive there before morning, and you can tell me what you’ve seen.”
Both mintaris bowed. Soon, they were off. Dar watched them lope down the snowy road with long steady strides. Before long, they were only specks in the distance. She turned to Sevren. “This journey will be less fearful knowing we won’t be surprised along the way.”
“You should have another son walk sixty paces in advance of our column. Soldiers could take positions after your scouts have passed through. Having someone walk ahead could prevent an ambush.”
“That sounds wise.” Dar sighed. “I know so little about tactics.”
“You can learn them easily enough,” said Sevren. “I only regret that you must.”
Dar and the orcs continued marching until well after dark. Then Dar called a halt to cook a quick meal before continuing onward. The stars were brilliant in the night sky, and when a crescent moon rose over the snowy mountains, it evoked a memory of a former queen. For a moment, Dar was Muth Mauk from many generations past. She was returning from having witnessed the birth of a granddaughter. The sky and the mountains looked as they had on that night, and after Dar relived the long-dead queen’s joy and awe, she felt a part of something larger than herself. She was but one in a line of queens stretching through time. It’s the line that matters, she thought. As long as it continues, I continue.
Sometime after midnight, a cloud bank moved in, blotting out the stars and moon. The night darkened, and the white mountains turned murky gray. Dar saw the orcs only as shadows. Barely seen snowflakes began to strike her face in ever-increasing numbers. The storm made walking mindless drudgery. One step followed another while darkness and snowfall obscured the surrounding landscape. There was no sense of progress, for nothing seemed to change. Existence shrank to taking the next step.
The march dragged on. Dar no longer thought of its end. When Zna-yat said something about a valley, it didn’t register on her fatigue-numbed mind. Then they started climbing a steep road that switched back and forth between terraced fields. It dawned on Dar that they were climbing the road to the Yat clan hall. She gazed upward. Crowning the heights, the hall was shrouded in snow. Its dark windows made it seem abandoned. “We made it,” said Dar, as if she couldn’t believe it.
Climbing the steep road to the hall’s entrance was the final test of Dar’s endurance. Despite her exhaustion, apprehension brought her to wakefulness. Neither scout had contacted her. That’s either a good sign or some disaster’s happened. The unlit hall suddenly seemed menacing. Perhaps it’s filled with waiting soldiers Regardless of that thought, Dar continued treading toward its door.
She finally reached it. The door opened, and Treen-pah stood inside. He bowed. “Muth Mauk, you’ve arrived at last.”
“Hai. What news?”
“There’s none to tell. I saw no signs of washavokis.”
“What did Auk-goth see?”
“He hasn’t returned.”
Sevren, who had followed the conversation, bowed low to Dar and spoke to her in the human tongue. “It might be prudent to send out more scouts on the New Road, in case Auk-goth had a mishap.”
Dar nodded her agreement. She recalled that Tauma-yat had two unblessed sons who farmed in summer and hunted in winter. She asked that they be brought to her hanmuthi. Then she turned to Nir-yat. “Find room for Sevren and Queen Girta in my hanmuthi. They’ll need something to lie upon. Sevren also will need place for his horse.”
“I’ll do this and also find places for sons who accompanied us. If I have bath sent to washavokis’
room, would they use it?”
“Thwa. Among washavokis, sons and mothers bathe separately. Also Girta doesn’t understand wisdom of cleanliness. I’ll teach her tomorrow.”