She nodded. “It should. The way he tried to warn you before, it sounds like he’s at least aware of her influence already. Do you think we’ll be able to get close to him once the horde marches?”
“Once the horde marches, it may be too late to do anything.” He started forward. Ekhaas grabbed for him, but he just pulled her after him.
“You’re going to interrupt the ceremony?”
“If I have to.”
They were already near the front of the horde and close to the Gatekeepers, but the warriors were packed tightly together in an effort to be near the druids. Squeezing through them was a battle in itself. No one wanted to give up their place. He and Ekhaas made almost no forward progress-at least not until Ekhaas turned around and shouted in Orc at Kobus. The big warrior slapped some of his friends, and they began clearing a path through the crowd, roughly thrusting aside anyone who would not move. Geth could hear his name in Kobus’s shouts, and he glanced suspiciously at Ekhaas as they followed behind the orcs.
The hobgoblin shrugged. “I told them you wanted to talk to the Gatekeepers but needed their help. What good is having followers if you don’t give them something to do?”
They were through the crowd in moments and broke onto the clear ground of the slope just as the horde let loose yet another roar. The timing wasn’t the best. The roar of the horde seemed to shove them forward. All of the senior Gatekeepers looked down to stare at them.
So did Medala. Her face knotted up into a hideous tangle. Geth put his back to her and faced the orc druids. The Gatekeeper who had been speaking glowered at him and said something in Orc. “He wants to know what you’re doing here,” Ekhaas translated, but Geth was already facing Batul.
We need to talk, he attempted to mouth silently, his lips and face moving in exaggerated motions. Not for the first time, he wished he had Dandra’s power of kesh. He added gestures-pointing at himself, then at Batul, then making talking and walking motions.
Batul just scowled and the words on his lips were easy to read. Not now!
Geth opened his hands in pleading request, but Batul’s scowl only grew deeper. He shook his head emphatically and shaped the same words. Not now! The rejection made Geth’s teeth clench, but the fire in his belly was blazing. He stared at Batul as if he did have the power of kesh and mouthed two words: Medala lied!
The reaction wasn’t what he’d hoped for. Batul thrust his tusks forward and stepped up to whisper to the speaker for the Gatekeepers before melting back again. The speaker’s angry expression changed instantly, opening like an ugly flower. He raised his arms and barked something at the crowd. Kobus howled in gleeful response and in only moments the howl spread through the horde. Ekhaas stiffened, her ears springing upright. Hands grabbed Geth and her, pushing them both toward the Gatekeepers.
“What did he just say?” Geth demanded
“That the hero of the Bonetree raid, the conqueror of Jhegesh Dol, wants to offer inspiration to the horde!”
“Me?” Geth’s voice came out in a croak. Before he could make any other protest, though, he was whirled around and the hands left him. The horde of Angry Eyes spread out before him, hundreds of orc warriors chanting his name.
Geth! Geth! Geth! Geth!
The chant rolled through him in waves that made the admiration he’d felt from Kobus and around the campfires the night before feel like nothing at all. It made him feel the same as the first time he’d seen the ocean or the first time he’d gone into real battle-incredibly small. And yet it also made him feel huge, powerful, as invincible as he felt when he shifted, but even more so.
And if it were possible, it made him hate Medala even more than he already did. All of these warriors with their red-striped horde marks would soon go into battle against a powerful enemy, an enemy that had to be fought, but that shouldn’t have been fought on Medala’s secret agenda.
But he couldn’t tell them about Medala. Caught up in the frenzy of the horde, they wouldn’t believe him. They probably wouldn’t even listen. Batul had thrust him into the one position where he could speak to everyone-but couldn’t say anything.
No, he could say one thing. If the battle had to be fought, it could at least be fought well. Geth pulled Wrath from his scabbard and thrust it over his head, crossing the purple byeshk blade with the black steel of his gauntlet. The sinking sun behind him painted both weapons red, so that bloody light dripped down his arms.
“Hit them hard!” he bellowed.
Ekhaas echoed his cry in Orc, and the roar that came back from the horde was like a wall of sound.
When the roar subsided, and the speaker for the Gatekeepers-not to mention a steady stream of warleaders making their way to the slope to imitate Geth’s passionate words-stepped forward again, there was no sign of Batul. He was gone, as if he had run away rather than speak to Geth.
“Maybe he had the better idea,” Ekhaas suggested as Kobus led them back down into the horde. “What could he have done with the information we have?”
Hands reached out of the crowd to touch Geth. He slapped a few of them back, but he didn’t feel the enthusiasm of the warriors. “He could have told us what to do.”
“Maybe he didn’t want to do that in front of Medala.”
“Maybe.”
Kobus punched Geth’s unarmored arm and said something in Orc. “Laugh, friend,” Ekhaas repeated for Geth. “We go to battle. Soon we’ll kill!”
“We should hope we’re the ones doing the killing,” Geth said grimly.
Ekhaas’s ears bent. “Do you want me to tell him that?”
“Don’t bother,” said Geth. Something in his tone had clearly already passed on to Kobus. The warrior wore a vaguely disappointed expression and was giving him a sideways glance. Geth didn’t try to correct him.
“Ekhaas duur’kala!” called a voice from behind them. “Ekhaas duur’kala, kato gosh!”
Ekhaas turned. Geth turned with her. One of the Gatekeepers, a crook-headed hunda stick in her hand, was pushing through the horde after them. Ekhaas answered her in Orc. Geth touched his hand to Wrath-now sheathed again-so he could follow their conversation.
“What do you want, Gatekeeper?” Ekhaas asked as the druid squeezed past Kobus to stand before them. The Gatekeeper’s eyes were bright, and her gray-green skin flushed as if with excitement, though she seemed a little old for youthful enthusiasm.
Her excitement extended to her voice, however. “A story,” she said. “Or stories.” She ducked her head in a gesture of awkward respect. “My name is Hona. I’m a lorespeaker among the Gatekeepers. Ever since Batul told us about your arrival yesterday, the other lorespeakers and I have wanted to meet with you, but we couldn’t leave the council lodge. Batul says you know stories of Aryd and the time of the Daelkyr War that we’ve forgotten.”
Ekhaas stood straight, her ears pricked up tall. “This is true,” she answered with the self-righteous arrogance that sometimes made Geth wonder how he endured her. Hona just looked even more excited.
“Will you tell us the stories as the horde marches?” she asked. “We’ll tell you what stories we can that you don’t already know.”
“I will be pleased to.” Ekhaas nodded gracefully. Geth was surprised her neck didn’t snap. It was an effort not to roll his eyes and reveal that he could understand what was being said. “How should I find you during the march?”
“Why don’t you come with me now?” Hona suggested. “I’ll introduce you to the other lorespeakers. You should be able to find at least one of us any time later.”
Ekhaas’s eyebrows rose, and she looked at Geth. “You were listening?” she asked, switching languages. “Should I go?”