Afterward, Muth-pah told Dar to enter the fissure, which was the opening of a narrow, low-ceilinged cave. The embers of several fires were beacons leading the way deeper into the rock. Muth-pah told Dar to follow them. After Dar passed each beacon, Muth-pah extinguished it with water from the other copper vessel. Thus, as Dar traveled deeper into the cave, darkness closed in behind her and the air, which was already hot and pungent with smoke, grew steamy.
The tunnel made a sharp turn and terminated in a rounded chamber with a ceiling so low that Dar had to squat to enter it. A cavity in its floor held more embers. “Sit,” said Muth-pah. Dar sat cross-legged. Muth-pah did the same, then poured the remaining contents of the vessel on the embers. Total darkness arrived with a loud hiss.
“I feel dizzy,” said Dar.
“Your spirit is leaving your body,” replied Muth-pah.
Dar touched herself for reassurance, but her fingers were numb. She felt that the floor was dissolving and she would soon fall. Dar tried to fight that sensation by speaking. “Tell me why I’m here. What am I supposed to do?”
“You said you spoke to Velasa-pah. Perhaps you will again.”
“I think he’s dead.”
“He is. That’s why you’re here. Only spirits can speak to spirits.”
“Then won’t I be dead also?”
“You may return,” said Muth-pah, “if Muth la wills it.”
“Thwa,” said Dar. “I can’t do this.” She tried to rise, but her body wouldn’t respond. It was so numb that the only evidence that she still had a body was a pain below her breast. It felt hot and cold at once. The pain spread, and, in her mind’s eye, Dar saw a hole growing in her chest. As it did, her essence streamed out into the black void. As her being dissipated, Dar perceived there was something else within her. She didn’t know what it was; yet she knew it was precious. “Must save…” she mumbled. Then, there was only the void.
Eighteen
Someone was pouring water over Dar’s body. It felt good, despite its chill. Dar opened her eyes. She was lying outside the cave beneath a dawn sky. Muth-pah bent over her holding a copper vessel. “Tava, Dargu,” she said. “You’ve returned.”
Dar looked about with confusion. “What happened? I don’t remember anything, except…” Dar felt her chest for a wound, but her flesh was whole. “I thought I died.”
“Death tasted you,” said Muth-pah, “but it did not swallow. You passed test.”
“What test?”
“It is said washavokis often spoke words that had no sense.”
“Such words are called ‘lies.’ Did you think I said them?”
“When you spoke of Velasa-pah, I had to know if you spoke these ‘lies.’ I had to know if he sent you here.”
“He didn’t,” said Dar.
“He told you to follow your chest. That’s why you came.”
Dar had no recollection of divulging Velasa-pah’s advice to Muth-pah. “So that’s why you spared my life,” Dar said. “To question me in darkness.”
“Once, Pah clan was queen’s clan. When queen ignored Velasa-pah’s warnings, she sealed clan’s fate. That is why we linger here, forgotten. Our doom was to guard against washavokis and wait.”
“Wait for what?”
Muth-pah gazed at Dar thoughtfully, apparently weighing what to say. It was a while before she answered. “Muth la gives wisdom, but she’s seldom generous. I’ve learned less than I hoped and don’t understand everything I’ve learned. But I know this: World has changed.” Muth-pah clasped Dar’s hand and bowed to her. “Shashav, Dargu.”
“I don’t recall saying anything. All I remember is pain.”
“If you remember it, then it was vision from Muth la,” replied the matriarch. “Heed its message.”
Dar said nothing. While all her visions were frightening and enigmatic, this one was particularly so. It seemed a glimpse of her dissolution. Dar rose, dressed, and followed Muth-pah to the hall. There, she realized the import of her visit into darkness, for the entire clan was waiting outside the hall for her and Muth-pah’s return. An expectant hush fell over them. Then the matriarch spoke. “World has changed. So says Velasa-pah.” A murmur arose from the crowd, then died away. “No more will sons deliver death. Tonight, we will burn skulls in ceremony, then turn our eyes eastward.”
It occurred to Dar that Velasa-pah had sent her to inform his clan that the Goblin Wars were finally over. That knowledge could have been the precious thing inside me, she thought. The news of it could be what streamed from my chest. Dar willingly embraced this interpretation of her experience. It seemed confirmed by the joy caused by Muth-pah’s announcement. Both mothers and sons beamed as they realized that the arduous and futile patrols were a thing of the past.
As Dar watched the clan disperse, exultant with the news, she felt tired and woozy. It was a while before she noticed Kovok-mah, waiting for her like a proper son. With faltering steps, she walked over to grab his hand and brush it against her breast. “I’m very tired,” she said, “yet I want to be alone with you.”
Four days later, Dar and her party departed the Pah clan settlement. Within that short time span, Muth-pah’s announcement had altered everything. Sons worked the fields with such vigor and enthusiasm that the planting was done early. With more hands available for every task, more could be accomplished. Work began on expanding the hall, and hope pervaded the talk at meals. Life had so improved that Thak-goth thought his sister would change her mind and bless the union of her son and Fre-pah. Thus, he offered to serve as sapaha to Dar and her companions so he might accompany Fre-pah and her muthuri to the Goth clan settlement.
Fre-pah behaved as though the blessing was assured, and her optimism set the tone for the journey. Dar felt lighthearted also. She was no longer lost or ragged. For the first time, she walked with sandals on her feet. The footwear was a parting gift from Muth-pah, along with an outfit of urkzimmuthi clothing. Dar wore a newly made neva, a length of woolen cloth that was wrapped around the waist to form a skirt, and kefs, a pair of short capes. One was worn on top of the other in warm weather. When it was cold, one cape covered the chest. Thus attired, Dar felt more like an urkzimmuthi mother.
The hidden trail to Goth clan territory wound through a network of valleys, and the way was often hard. The travelers passed abandoned halls and spent nights in some of them, but it was nine days before they encountered any orcs. These were three Goth clan mothers who were collecting herbs. They knew Fre-pah and her muthuri, but Dar amazed them.
“Dargu is like Velasa-pah,” said Thak-goth. “Muth la guides her.” Afterward, the mothers treated Dar with respect but curiosity.
Later that afternoon, Dar spied terraced fields and a collection of stone halls. Thak-goth led them toward the one where his sister had her hanmuthi, which was one of several within her muthuri’s hall. Recalling her first meeting with Muth-pah, Dar was slightly nervous as she neared the building, but not nearly as nervous as Fre-pah. As the time approached to speak to her velazul’s muthuri, optimism deserted her.
Thak-goth’s muthuri, Tho-goth, was the ranking mother in the hall, so she was the one who greeted the visitors. They found her seated on a stool in the rearmost hanmuthi. Since only strangers were formally greeted, Tho-goth nodded to the two Pah clan mothers, then addressed Dar. “I’ve received news of you. It’s said you can speak, but I know not how to greet you.”
Tara-pah, Fre-pah’s muthuri, spoke up. “This mother has Muth-pah’s blessing.”
“I know not which is stranger,” said Tho-goth, “that you name washavoki ‘mother’ or that Muth-pah blessed it.” Then Tho-goth’s curiosity got the better of her manners, and she rose to examine Dar more closely. “I’ve never seen washavoki before.” She sniffed Dar and appeared surprised.
Tara-pah spoke again. “This mother has led these sons through many perils. She also entered darkness to guide our clan. Much has changed since she came. Sons have put aside weapons to work alongside mothers.”
; “I’m amazed,” said Tho-goth. “This is pleasing news.” She declined her head toward Dar. “Greetings, Mother. I’m Tho-goth.”
Dar bowed and stated her name. Afterward, her companions were greeted. A meal followed where the conversation began with news of Tho-goth’s relatives at the Pah clan hall and ended with an account of Dar’s adventures. Those astounded Tho-goth. “Dargu, I must take you to Muth-goth tomorrow. She’ll be most interested, and I’m certain she’ll find sapaha for you and these sons.”
Tara-pah waited until the meal was over before bringing up the subject of Fre-pah’s blessing. She suggested the matter should be reconsidered in light of changes wrought by Dar’s revelation. “Life used to be hard for husbands of Pah clan mothers,” she concluded, “but future will be different.”
Tho-goth considered Tara-pah’s arguments, then frowned. “You speak wisdom, but I doubt my daughter will agree. Thak-goth doesn’t understand his sister. She wants her son close, whether he’s content or not. Yet we can speak with her. Perchance she’ll change her mind.”
Dar watched hope depart from Fre-pah’s face, and her heart went out to her. Later that night, when Dar lay against Kovok-mah’s chest to sleep, she heard an unfamiliar sound coming from the adjacent chamber. It was low-pitched and repetitive, like muffled whimpering. “What do I hear?” whispered Dar.
“Fre-pah is sad,” whispered Kovok-mah as he embraced Dar a little closer. “She will not be blessed.”
“What will she do?”
“Return home, never to see her velazul again.”
Fre-pah, her muthuri, and Thak-goth departed for home early the following morning. Dar remained and was presented to the Goth matriarch later that day. Muth-goth was the most elderly orc Dar had ever seen, and the only frail one. Her flesh hung from her large frame and her face was a cobweb of wrinkles surrounded by wispy white hair. After formal greetings, the matriarch rose with difficulty from her stool and hobbled toward Dar. She halted a hand’s length away and squinted at her with frank curiosity. “I’ve already heard much about you,” Muth-goth said. Her lips curled into a grin. “You’re no washavoki! Your teeth are black.”
“I chew washuthahi seeds, Mother,” replied Dar.
“It helps,” said Muth-goth as she continued her examination. “But not much. Still, it’s better to be wise than pretty. Are you wise?”
“I doubt it,” said Dar.
Muth-goth grinned again. “Wise answer.” She turned to the others. “I wish to be alone with Dargu.”
When the room cleared, Muth-goth sat upon her stool and invited Dar to sit at her feet. “Muth la speaks to urkzimmuthi mothers,” said Muth-goth, “but only to very few. Is it common for washavoki mothers to receive visions?”
“Thwa,” said Dar. “I’ve never heard of it.”
“Some say visions are gifts. Others claim they are burdens. Whatever they are, they’re rare,” said Muth-goth. “I once had visions. Speak to me of yours.”
Dar recounted everything, and Muth-goth listened without comment until Dar had finished speaking. By then, her expression was troubled. “So you encountered Velasa-pah. This is news, indeed.”
“Who is he, Mother? Those in Pah clan would say little, even after I returned from darkness.”
“They keep his tale deep in their chests, for his fate and theirs are intermingled. Yours, too, I think.”
“How?”
Muth-goth merely smiled. “So, Dargu, why do you think Muth la has given you visions?”
Despite having her own question evaded, Dar answered the matriarch’s. “I’m not sure,” she replied. “I understand some visions, but most make no sense to me.”
“Ones that make no sense are most important,” said Muth-goth. “They show things that have yet to happen.”
“How can they guide me if I don’t understand them?”
“Did your vision of burning tell you what to do when you saw Zna-yat bound to tree?”
“Thwa,” replied Dar. “I followed my chest.”
“That’s Muth la’s way,” said Muth-goth. “She shows where path will fork, but you must choose which course to take.”
“Then what’s point of visions? What good are they?”
Muth-goth hissed. “Do you think I know Muth la’s mind? I’m old and have seen much, but I’m child next to World’s Mother. All I know is this—Muth la sends visions to suit her purposes, not yours.”
Dar sighed. “I suspected as much.”
“Yet good will come from them if you act wisely.”
Dar bowed her head. “Hai, Mother.” Still, she couldn’t help wondering, Good for whom?
The following day, Dar and her companions departed, guided by the sapaha that Muth-goth had provided. As her journey’s end grew closer, Dar worried about her reception at Kovok-mah’s hall. What muthuri would want a washavoki for her son? When Dar imagined how perverse her passion would seem, she felt her situation was hopeless. Dar brooded over the matter until it occurred to her that Kovok-mah’s muthuri was Zna-yat’s aunt. Perhaps he can tell me what to expect. When they stopped to rest, Dar pulled Zna-yat aside for a private conversation. “Zna-yat, I need guidance.”
“You are mother. It’s not my place to advise you.”
“Yet you must. You have knowledge I need.”
Zna-yat bowed. “How can I help you?”
“You know that Kovok-mah fills my chest. When I enter hall of his muthuri, what will happen?”
“Dargu, don’t enter that hall.”
“Why?”
“Dargu, you’re wise. You know why.”
“Kovok-mah’s muthuri will disapprove.”
“She’ll know his feelings, but she won’t understand them,” said Zna-yat. “I think she’ll be angry.”
Dar let out a wrenching sigh. “Then there’s no hope for me. No place for me either.”
“You’ve bitten my neck, Dargu. There’ll always be place for you in my muthuri’s hall.”
It took only a moment for Dar to realize that living in Zna-yat’s hall was her only option, and she was grateful for the offer. Before, she had assumed that she would stay with Kovok-mah. Yet his muthuri had no reason to take her in, and she would quickly discover one to turn her away. Dar’s future seemed set, and it didn’t look promising.
Toward late afternoon, the travelers entered another empty valley. Dar spotted a suitable campsite and called an early halt to the day’s march. After eating, she led Kovok-mah away. They didn’t return until morning.
Zna-yat took Dar aside soon after her arrival. “Dargu,” he whispered. “You are not blessed.”
“We acted properly,” said Dar. “We gave each other love, nothing more.” Yet Dar wished they hadn’t acted properly. She would have gladly consummated her love if Kovok-mah had been willing, but honor restrained him. Thus, despite a night of passion, she felt denied. By the concern in Zna-yat’s face, Dar sensed that he surmised her true desire. “I won’t be foolish,” she added.
“Mothers who thrimuk before they are blessed become thwada for rest of life,” said Zna-yat.
“I know,” said Dar. Still, she couldn’t help thinking that, once Kovok-mah departed, she might as well be untouchable.
“My chest is heavy for you,” said Zna-yat. “Joy too easily becomes sorrow. Kovok-mah feared this in Tarathank. He dreaded end of this journey.”
“If he knew it would end this way, why did he ever give me love?”
“You came to him and requested what his chest desired most,” replied Zna-yat. “He thought it was Muth la’s doing.”
Dar sighed, thinking how Muth la had her own purposes. “He was probably right.”
Zna-yat pondered Dar’s dilemma a while before he spoke again. “Kovok-mah’s muthuri must not learn about you too soon.”
“Why?” asked Dar. “What difference will it make?”
“It will allow you to seek counsel,” said Zna-yat. “Yat clan is queen clan, and its mothers are subtle thinkers. They may see path for you.”
“I’ll advise him to avoid speaking of you,” replied Zna-yat, “and to dwell outside his muthuri’s hall. If he spends summer among his goats, she may not suspect his feelings.”
Once again, Dar saw how Zna-yat was different from the others. He grasped the uses of deception. In contrast, the essence of Kovok-mah was honesty, and Dar couldn’t envision him hiding his emotions. Even if he could, she couldn’t imagine how she would ever become acceptable to Kovok-mah’s muthuri. I’m washavoki. Kovok-mah’s silence won’t alter that. Still, it seemed her only hope. “I’ll tell him to follow your plan,” Dar said, “though I doubt it will change anything.”
“Perhaps it won’t, Dargu,” said Zna-yat. “Yet it will gain you time, and Kovok-mah may see you as long as his muthuri doesn’t forbid it.”
“And if she does forbid it?”
“You will be apart forever.”
Dar gathered the orcs together, and Zna-yat laid out his plan in full. It was a simple one: They would split up upon reaching familiar territory. Zna-yat and Dar would proceed to the Yat clan hall. Kovok-mah would journey with the others and arrive home last. All promised to mention Dar as seldom as possible and never to call her mother or refer to her by name. In that way, Zna-yat hoped that Kovok-mah’s muthuri wouldn’t connect Dar to the scent of love lingering about her son.
Dar endorsed Zna-yat’s scheme, although she was ambivalent about it. On one hand, it offered hope—however slender—of rejoining Kovok-mah. On the other hand, it hastened the day of their separation.
As the travelers trekked eastward, the terrain became more hospitable. Trees softened the mountainsides and the trail became easy. It was both the most pleasant time in Dar’s life and the most melancholy, for her present contentment made the future seem all the more bleak. She set a leisurely pace and would have stretched out the journey longer if the orcs—with the exception of Kovok-mah—had not been eager to return home.
[Queen of Orcs 02] - Clan Daughter Page 12