"The unpredictability and unreliability of trolls. . " the drow priestess said with a shrug.
Obould continued to glower, and Kaer'lic knew that he at least suspected that she and Tos'un had played a role in keeping Proffit's trolls from joining in the fight.
"We warned Proffit that his delays could pose problems in the north," Tos'un added. "But he and his wretched trolls smelled human blood, the blood of Nesmians, their hated enemies for so many years. He would not be persuaded to march north to Mithral Hall."
Obould hardly looked convinced.
"And Silverymoon marched upon them," Kaer'lic said, needing to divert attention. "You can expect nothing more from Proffit and his band. Those few who survive."
A low growl issued from between Obould's fangs.
"You knew that Lady Alustriel would come forth," Kaer'lic said. "Take heart that many of her prized warriors now lay dead on those southern bogs. She will not gladly turn her eyes to the north."
"Let her come," Obould growled. "We are preparing, on every mountain and in every pass. Let Silverymoon march forth to the Kingdom of Dark Arrows. Here, they will find only death."
"The Kingdom of Dark Arrows?" Tos'un silently mouthed.
Kaer'lic continued to scrutinize not only Obould, but Tsinka, and she noted that the shaman grimaced at the mention of the supposed kingdom.
A divisive opening, perhaps?
"Proffit is defeated, then," the orc king said. "Is he dead?"
"We know not," Kaer'lic admitted. "In the confusion of the battle, we departed, for it was obvious that the trolls would be forced back into the Trollmoors, and there, I did not wish to go."
"Wish to go?" Obould said. "Did I not instruct you to remain with Proffit?"
"There, I would not go," said Kaer'lic. "Not with Proffit, and not for Obould."
Her brazen attitude brought another fierce scowl, but the orc king made no movement toward her.
"You have accomplished much, King Obould," Kaer'lic offered. "More than I believed possible in so short a time. In honor of your great victories, I have brought you a gift." She nodded to Tos'un as she ended, and the male drow leaped away, skipping down the hillside to the one remaining boulder tumble. He disappeared from sight, then came back out a moment later, pulling along a battered dwarf.
"Our gift to you," said Kaer'lic.
Obould tried to look surprised, but Kaer'lic saw through the facade. He had spies and lookouts everywhere, and had known of the dwarf before he had ever come out to meet the dark elves.
"Flay his skin and eat him," Tsinka said, her eyes suddenly wild and hungry. "I will prepare the spit!"
"You will shut your mouth," Obould corrected. "He is of Clan Battle-hammer?"
"He is," the drow priestess answered.
Obould nodded his approval, then turned to Tsinka and said, "Secure him in the supply wagon. We will keep him close. And do not injure him, on pain of death!"
That elicited a most profound scowl from the shaman, a look Kaer'lic did not miss.
"He will prove valuable to us, perhaps," said Obould. "I expect to be in parlay with the dwarves before the turn of spring."
"Parlay?" Tsinka echoed, her voice rising to a shriek once more.
Obould turned his scowl upon her and she shrank back.
"Take him now and secure him," the orc king said to her, his voice even and threatening.
Tsinka rushed past him to the dwarf, then roughly tugged poor Fender along.
"And injure him not at all!" Obould commanded.
"I had expected you to press into Mithral Hall," Kaer'lic said to the orc king when Tsinka was gone. "In truth, when we returned to Keeper's Dale, we expected to find the orc army scattering back for the Spine of the World."
"Your confidence is inspiring."
"That confidence grows, King Obould," Kaer'lic assured him. "You have shown great restraint and wisdom, I believe."
Obould dismissed the compliment with a snort. "Is there anything else you wish?" he asked. "I have much to do this day."
"Before you move along to the next construction?"
"That is the plan, yes," said Obould.
Kaer'lic bowed low. "Farewell, King of Dark Arrows."
Obould paused just a moment to consider the title, then turned on his heel and marched away.
"One surprise after another," Tos'un remarked when he was gone.
"I am not so surprised anymore," said Kaer'lic. "It was our mistake in underestimating Obould. It will not happen again."
"Let us just go back into the tunnels of the upper Underdark, or find another region in need of our playful cunning."
Kaer'lic's expression did not shift in the least. Eyes narrowed, as if throwing darts at the departing Obould, the priestess mulled over all the information. She thought of her lost companions, then simply let go of them, as was the drow way. She considered Obould's attitude, however, so disrespectful toward the dead drow and toward the Spider Queen. It was not so easy to let go of some things.
"I would speak with Tsinka before we leave," Kaer'lic remarked.
"Tsinka?" came Tos'un's skeptical response. "She is a fool even by orc standards."
"That is how I like my orcs," Kaer'lic answered. "Predictable and stupid."
* * * * *
Later that same day, after casting many spells of creation and imbuing a certain item with a particular dweomer, Kaer'lic sat on a stone opposite the orc priestess. Tsinka regarded her carefully and suspiciously, which she had expected, of course.
"You were not pleased by King Obould's decision to abandon Mithral Hall to the dwarves," Kaer'lic bluntly stated.
"It is not my place to question He-who-is-Gruumsh."
"Is he? Is it the will of Gruumsh to leave dwarves in peace? I am surprised by this."
Tsinka's face twisted in silent frustration and Kaer'lic knew she had hit a nerve here.
"It is often true that when a conqueror makes great gains, he becomes afraid," Kaer'lic explained. "He suddenly has so much more to lose, after all."
"He-who-is-Gruumsh fears nothing!" shrieked the volatile shaman.
Kaer'lic conceded that with a nod. "But likely, King Obould will need more than the prodding of Tsinka to fulfill the will of Gruumsh," the drow said.
The shaman eyed Kaer'lic curiously.
Smiling wickedly, Kaer'lic reached into her belt pouch and pulled forth a small spider-shaped fastener, holding it up before the orc.
"For the straps of a warrior's armor," she explained.
Tsinka seemed both intrigued and afraid.
"Take it," Kaer'lic offered. "Fasten your cloak with it. Or just press it against your skin. You will understand."
Tsinka took the fastener and held it close, and Kaer'lic secretly mouthed a word to release the spells she had placed in contingency upon the fastener.
Tsinka's eyes widened as she felt an infusion of courage and power. She closed her eyes and basked in the warmth of the item, and Kaer'lic used that opportunity to cast another spell upon the orc, an enchantment of friendship that put Tsinka fully at ease.
"The blessing of Lady Lolth," Kaer'lic explained. "She who would see the dwarves routed from Mithral Hall."
Tsinka moved the fastener back out and stared at it curiously. "This will drive He-who-is-Gruumsh back to the dwarven halls to complete the conquest?"
"That alone? Of course not. But I have many of them. And you and I will prod him, for we know that King Obould's greatest glories lay yet before him."
The shaman continued to stare glassy-eyed at the brooch for some time. Then she looked at her new best friend, her smile wide.
Kaer'lic tried hard to make her smile seem reciprocal rather than superior. The drow didn't worry about it too much, though, for Tsinka considered her trustworthy, thought Kaer'lic to be her new best friend.
The drow priestess wondered how Obould might view that friendship.