“Droko the Sage.”Archie paused in the doorway and performed the necessary obeisance, tapping the floor with one knee.No doubt he was usually graceful, but the bundle he carried made the move awkward.
“Did Gorgul send you?”
“Not at all.”He bustled his way in.“I just thought you might have need of a few things.”
All of the tables and shelves were full of shamanic nonsense, so he placed his bundle on the empty sedan chair instead.He opened the sackcloth to reveal several white tallow candles, a heavy tinderbox, and a jug of wine.
“I didn’t ask for this.”
“Maybe not.”Archie hoisted the jug, eyes sparkling.“But I’ve been looking forward to my tasting duties.”
If the human thought to lower my inhibitions with something as weak as wine, he’d be disappointed.I grabbed the extra candles to stow them near the sconces, only to find their supply nearly gone, and the spot where they’d normally be kept held only a single, brittle candle stump and a few hunks of wax.
“As you see,” Archie purred.“I can be very…useful.”
Obviously, he was hinting at the sorts of things my bunkmates bragged about in the dark—a notion from which I forcefully steered my thoughts away.But perhaps he truly could be useful to me…just not quite in the way he expected.
“Tell me,” I commanded.“How often did the shaman Taruut meditate?”
The question surprised him.“Hard to say.”
“So much for your usefulness.I doubt you were anywhere near as close to the old shaman as you want me to believe.”
“Hold on, now.Maybe I am the new kid in town, and maybe I was pretty busy coughing up my own lungs—but Taruut and I did spend quite a bit of time together.Who else would’ve mopped my brow or spooned broth down my throat?Certainly not Gar—er, Gorgul.”
“You mean to tell me that the most venerable shaman this clan has ever known lavished all his personal attention on you?To what purpose?”
Archie shrugged helplessly.“Taruut never explained to me—or to anyone else—why he was so determined to keep me alive.It was foretold.That’s all he would say.”
If this slave was so important to the old shaman, perhaps he could be of use to me as well.“Kof shared another of Taruut’s riddles with me:The path lies unread until seen with knowing eyes."
"How delightfully cryptic."Archie's lips curved into a smile at his own wordplay.“Speaking of knowing eyes….”His insolent gaze locked with mine.
"In the Two Swords clan, an orc would never tolerate such games from a slave."
Archie wasn't cowed in the least.In fact, he only eased closer, voice dropping to a sultry whisper."And yet…here you are, playing right along.”
The human smelled nothing whatsoever like an orc.I backed away to quell the temptation to sniff him."Find out what that prophecy means.Watch Kof, listen to the guards, do whatever you need to do—but don't get caught.Or you may find yourself serving a much harsher master."
Archie set off, finally, to do my bidding, though his human scent lingered long after he was gone.Maybe I was foolish to think a human slave to be of any help.Humans don’t understand their place in the world.I’d be better off enlisting the help of Gorgul—at least he seemed eager to impress me.But before I could call him back, I was interrupted yet again as Crespash returned.
“I passed the human in the hall,” he said without preamble, “though, of course, he didn’t see me.What was he doing here again?”
“Bringing me that wine you’ve had your eye on.What difference is it to you?”
Crespash unstoppered the flagon, gave the wine a sniff, then shrugged and dumped it down his gullet.Smacking his lips, he said, “No doubt the boy’s flattery is like honey to your ears, and his sky-colored eyes are full of promise.And who could blame you for needing some release after you were deprived of the wedding night you’d been anticipating since you were old enough to sprout hair on your balls?But you’ll hardly have time to savor his sweet little pink cock if your head’s on a stake.”
8
ARCHIE
I'd been hoping to seduce Droko, not make myself his lackey.But if I could find a good vantage point to spy on the honor guard, I might learn something useful about that prophecy, though why Droko thought a common bedboy could succeed where a mystical orcish shaman couldn't was beyond me.Still, he'd asked, and I wasn't about to disappoint my best chance at surviving with my head intact.
The trick would be figuring out somewhere I could watch the guards without being spotted myself.
I searched through the caves, looking for hidden passages or secret overlooks.The caves were treacherous—a place of secrets, dank and dark and filled with potential hazards.Most of the passageways reeked of sulfur, though that was probably for the best.It meant the honor guard wouldn't be able to *smell* me while I watched them.
I shuddered.
