“Have you been following what I’ve said?” asked Dar in the human tongue.
“I understand Orcish better than I speak it,” replied Sevren. “Having your fighters wear white capes was a clever idea.”
“Which a lot of them don’t grasp,” said Dar. “Murdant Teeg was right. Orcs lack guile.”
“Their queen doesn’t.”
“So talk to me about tactics,” said Dar as she walked. “What will Kol do first?”
“That depends on what he wants. If it’s just plunder, he’ll camp and wait for dawn to attack. If it’s slaughter, he’ll surround the hall right away to cut off any escape.”
“Othar’s his master,” said Dar. “I’m certain he’ll want slaughter.”
“Then get your folk out quick and have them hide their tracks as best they can.”
“There are ways out from this hall other than the road,” said Dar. “If Kol thinks we’re in here, he won’t go hunting for us.”
“But as soon as you torch this place, he’ll know you’ve fled”
“I’ll wait until the last possible moment.”
“We could end up trapped in a burning building.”
“That’s not your problem,” said Dar. “You’re going with Nir-yat. Those sons with her must learn how to fight.”
“They won’t listen to me.”
“They’ll listen to her.”
“What if I can’t explain things properly?”
“Kovok-mah will help you.”
“You’re sending both of us away, and staying in the hall?”
“Only until it’s on fire.”
“But.”
They reached the entrance to the lorechamber. “We’ll finish talking after I speak to the lorekeeper.”
As Dar expected, Yev-yat was in the lorechamber, not her muthuri’s hanmuthi. She was crying as she sorted the stacks of deetpahis. Dar understood her grief, and her voice was gentle when she called the lorekeeper’s name. Yev-yat started, then bowed. “Muth Mauk, you told us to gather tools. These are mine.”
“And how many can you carry?”
Yev-yat’s face seemed to crumble with despair. Her mouth trembled, but she was unable to reply. Dar embraced her, and for a while, she simply held the shaking mother. Then she spoke. “I’ll have everyone take one deetpahi with them when they depart.”
“Two, Muth Mauk. Please, two. They’re not heavy, and there’s so much wisdom here.”
Dar smiled. “Two, then. You must hurry and select them. We depart soon.”
Yev-yat went over to a table. “I have your two already.” She handed Dar an ancient deetpahi, its wax dark with age. “This is Deetpahi of Morah-pah. It foretold this hall’s destruction.” She grabbed another wooden slat. “This speaks of Taren-hak.”
“That name is new to me.”
“To me also,” said Yev-yat. “I read it only few days ago. Since then, I’ve saved it for your return.”
“Why?”
“Taren-hak was reborn mother, like yourself. She was blessed to urkzimmuthi son. Afterward, she had three daughters.”
Dar stood stunned, oblivious of everything except Yev-yat’s news. “So I could bear children?”
“Hai, it seems so.”
Dar hugged the lorekeeper. “Shashav, Yev-yat.” Then her face turned grave. “Choose those deetpahis to be saved. I’ll send sons to distribute them. What remains will burn. I’m sorry, Yev-yat. Fate’s often hard.”
Yev-yat smiled sadly as she bowed. “How could I be lorekeeper and not know that?”
Dar wondered only briefly if Sevren understood the significance of the lorekeeper’s news. Then her thoughts turned back to tactics. “Tell me how to fight Kol’s army,” she said as they strode through the hallways.
“Never attack Kol head-on,” said Sevren. “He has too many men. Pick little fights. Win them and retreat quickly.”
“How do I do that?”
“He’ll send out men to gather fuel and scouts to reconnoiter. Make sure they don’t return.”
“How?”
“Hide and lie in wait for them.”
“What about the rest of the army?”
“Surprise them at night when darkness gives you the advantage. Kol’s men will have to spread out.
Attack isolated units. Avoid any fight where the odds don’t favor you. When they do, hit fast and disappear. Remember, ten orcs can beat ten men.”
“What if Kol starts moving?”
“Send word to the other clans and begin gathering an army. These same tactics work on a larger scale. Plan ambushes.”
“Such tactics run counter to the way orcs fight,” said Dar.
“If you command them, they’ll obey.”
“I want you to explain these tactics to Nir-yat. She’ll have difficulty grasping them, but if you’re persistent, she will.”
Sevren looked at Dar suspiciously. “This sounds like you’re grooming your successor. Do you na plan to leave this hall alive?”
“I must,” said Dar. “I possess Fathma.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s too complicated to explain now. Just know that I must survive in order to pass on the crown.”
“Then why lag behind?”
“If I’m meant to live, I will.”
As Dar headed for the Great Chamber, she sensed the emotions pervading the hall. She had seldom heard orcs weep, but many did as they discarded almost everything but the clothes on their backs. How many treasured heirlooms will burn tonight? As muthuris urged their children to hurry, Dar heard some voices raised in anger and others taut with fear. Sons and mothers were rushing through the hallways, bearing all sorts of burdens. Some looked purposeful. Others appeared bewildered. Courtesy was forgotten as orcs stopped Dar to ask what would happen. She always gave the same reply: “We’ll flee to safety. We’ll live.” She hoped it was true.
When Dar reached the Great Chamber, she discovered a pile of combustibles. Smashed furniture, sleeping mats, and clothing formed a chest-high mound. A son was breaking apart an exquisitely carved chest and tossing its pieces on the pile. Dar gazed out a window at the nearest hilltop, but no signal fire blazed on its summit. As she watched, the swirling snow briefly made the hill fade into ghostly whiteness. Then the summit was visible again. How will the Tok clan reach the pass in this weather? She hoped the storm that hindered climbers would also slow Kol’s advance and hide the tracks of his intended victims. The sooner they flee, the better their trail will be hidden.
Zna-yat entered. “Muth Mauk, did you speak with lorekeeper?”
“Hai,” said Dar. “Everyone will carry two deetpahis. Send sons to lorechamber so they can distribute them. Remaining deetpahis will go into fire piles. When will those piles be ready?”
“They could be lit now, but there’s still much to go into them. We won’t be completely done until dusk.”
“Then let’s hope washavokis don’t arrive before then.”
Zna-yat hurried off to carry out Dar’s instructions. While Dar waited for his return, Tauma-yat’s sons entered the chamber, still dressed in their snow-caked cloaks. The two looked worried. Dar blessed them and asked what they had learned. At first, their observations were unsurprising. Kol’s army was already on the march when the brothers encountered it. They had hidden to watch it pass. The washavokis traveled on foot, except for a few that rode horses. Dar assumed the mounted men were officers. One of the washavokis on horseback was so small that the brothers thought he might be a youngling. Girta’s son? wondered Dar.
Tauma-yat’s sons had tried to count the soldiers and thought there were more than two thousand invaders. “When do you think they’ll reach here?” Dar asked.
“Before evening,” said the younger brother.
“So soon?” said Dar. “I had hoped this storm would slow them.”
“They marched more quickly than I expected,” said the elder brother. “I fought for Great Washavoki once, and his soldiers never marched quickly. But then, they weren’t fleeing”
“Fleeing?” said Dar. “What do you mean.”