A moment later, Auk-goth staggered through the doorway, so out of breath he was unable to return Dar’s greeting for a while. At last, Auk-goth had the breath to speak. “There are washavokis on New Road.”
Dar’s face fell. “On our side of pass?”
“Hai. When I came upon them, it was night and they were inside cloth shelters. There were many hundreds of them, encrusting ridge like second snowfall.”
“Where were they?”
“Still high on ridge, just beyond pass.”
“So we know they’re coming,” said Dar. “But that’s about all we know.”
“When I was returning, I met those two sons you sent. We spoke before they traveled on toward pass. Perhaps they’ll learn more.”
Karam-tok’s face reflected her dismay. “There’s no point in sealing pass now. Wolves are in sheep pen.”
“Urkzimmuthi are not sheep,” said Dar. “Nir-yat, how many sons can protect our hall?” “There are seventy-two sons within our hall who can fight. Most have swords or axes, but none possesses armor. Not even helmets. Those who lack weapons can use tools or farm implements. Another hundred or so Yat clan sons live close enough to aid us. Your mintaris and guards from Taiben add forty-one to that number.”
“We have fifty-six sons in our party,” said Karam-tok. “All bear axes. I’ll put them at your service.”
Dar pondered the situation before she replied. “Even if Tok sons join fight, this hall will have less than three hundred defenders. Sevren told me they’ll face two thousand soldiers, perhaps more.” Dar let the dismal news sink in. “Karam-tok, I need your clan’s sons elsewhere.”
“Where?”
“At pass. Can they reach it if there are washavokis on road?”
“I know of way to pass other than New Road,” said the Tok clan lorekeeper.
“Then there’s yet hope,” said Dar, “though Yat clan mothers may not see it as such. I must speak to them before you can proceed.”
Word went out for all muthuris to assemble in the Great Chamber. They came quickly, followed by all the hall’s residents. The chamber grew crowded, but formalities were observed. Muth-yat stood closest to the throne. Beside her was Muth-pah. The heads of the hall’s other hanmuthis stood slightly farther back. Beyond them were the rest of the muthuris. Dar was surprised to spot Meera-yat. The remaining space was occupied by mothers, blessed and unblessed, young and old. They overflowed the chamber, spilling into the corridors beyond, where sons mingled with them.
The room was so tightly packed that it grew unpleasantly warm. Despite the crowd, the chamber was deathly quiet. All eyes were on Dar. As she returned their gaze, she felt her chest would break with love and sorrow. Everyone was precious to her, and everyone was in deadly danger. For a moment, Dar didn’t speak for fear her voice would tremble. Then by some grace, she grew calm.
“This rooms smells of fear,” said Dar. “It’s Muth la’s gift, for she wants her children safe. Fear may oppress you, but it can also lead to wisdom.
“I journeyed to Taiben to learn if washavokis desire peace. They don’t. All washavokis aren’t evil, but they’ve been gripped by evil. Black Washavoki didn’t die. Instead, he was transformed. Using magic, he’s compelled others to do his bidding. Washavoki queen wanted peace, so she was forced to flee with us. Black Washavoki hates all urkzimmuthi. He has sent army to slay us. That army approaches. It’s already in our land.”
The room grew so pungent with fear that even Dar could smell it.
“Before I was reborn, I lived among washavoki soldiers and saw war’s cruelty. I think Muth la wished me to witness it in preparation for this moment. Now hear my wisdom: Our sons are brave and strong.
Yet superior numbers can and will overwhelm them. I’ve seen this before. We cannot stop washavokis’ attack. It’s unwise to try.”
Despite the orcs’ deference to their queen, a murmur arose among them. Dar waited for it to quiet.
“Our enemy’s strength is also its weakness. Big armies cannot hide. They have many mouths to feed. Washavokis don’t know this land, but they can follow New Road to our hall. They have no choice but to come. They need food. They need shelter. They want our goods and our lives. All these things they must take from us. But when they come, they won’t find them. They’ll find death instead. Why? Because we’ll have sealed pass so they cannot leave, and we’ll have departed after destroying this hall.”
This time, the chamber rang with alarmed voices. Muth-yat’s was the loudest. Eventually, the others quieted so Muth-yat could speak for them. “So this is your wisdom?” she cried. “To become cowards and abandon our home?”
“I say cling to life, not this hall,” said Dar. “We can overcome these washavokis, but only if we act wisely. Mothers will flee, but sons will remain. With no food or shelter and nowhere to flee, washavokis will weaken. We’ll attack them as small birds attack hawk. We’ll dart in to peck our larger foe, then fly away. Each peck will injure it. Many small wounds can bring death.”
“You brought this on us!” shouted Muth-yat, violating all propriety. “You should have tasted Muth la’s Draught!”
“Have her taste it now!” cried Zor-yat. “If she’s worthy to rule, let her prove it!”
“Muthuri!” shouted Nir-yat. “Have you forsaken wisdom? This hall’s destruction was foretold! You know this.”
“How dare you speak to me like that!” screamed Zor-yat in reply. “You’re my daughter. Show respect.”
“I follow your example, Muthuri. How dare you question Muth Mauk’s wisdom?”
The exchange stunned the crowd into silence. That was when Muth-pah mounted the first step of the throne, drawing everyone’s attention “I am Muth-pah. Hear my wisdom. My clan was once mightiest among urkzimmuthi. We were Queen Clan. Tarathank was our home. Yet now my entire clan fits into one hanmuthi, and we’re called lost.
“Most believe washavokis did that to us, but we did it to ourselves. True, washavokis destroyed our city and killed many of our number. But that didn’t make us Lost Clan. We became doomed when our thoughts fixed on past. We sent our sons to kill, hoping to take back what had been lost. When that failed, we lingered in west. There, our sons hunted washavoki skulls. We embraced death, not life. Thus we diminished.
“Do not let this lovely hall become your Tarathank. It’s only wood and stone. Your lives and your children are your true treasures. Heed Muth Mauk’s wisdom. Forsake this hall.”
Then Dar spoke. “Muth la sends me visions, but she doesn’t tell me what to do. I must choose my path. As your queen, I can command you. I will not. I cannot make you live. That must be your choice.
“If you choose to remain, I’ll stay and die with you. If you choose to flee, I will guide you. Whatever you decide, be aware that this hall will burn. Muth la has shown me its destruction. Perhaps washavokis will set it on fire. Perhaps we will. I don’t know.”
Dar swept her glaze over the entire room. “Now choose.”
For a moment, everyone stood frozen. Then Jvar-yat, the clan’s latath, spoke out. “Guide me, Muth Mauk. I will follow you.” She sank to her knees and made the sign of the Tree.
“I’ll heed your wisdom,” said Tauma-yat, kneeling and making the sign for Muth la.
Then other muthuris did the same. The room filled with their voices as they knelt. From where Dar sat, the mothers looked like grass bending before a wind. Eventually, only Muth-yat and Zor-yat remained standing. They glanced about, then fell to their knees also.
The room grew still and silent. Dar regarded the kneeling orcs with tear-brimmed eyes before she spoke. “We must flee in haste but not in panic. Gather warm clothes and those tools you’ll need to start new life. Carry as much food as you possibly can. Pile everything you leave behind together so it might be burned after you depart. Stay in your hanmuthis to receive further guidance. When it’s time to leave, Nir-yat will guide you. You should go now.”