9
DROKO
I should have been worn out from my long trek to the Red Hand village and my even longer day pretending to be something I was not…but still, I slept fitfully in the strange, hot chamber.It was too quiet without the snores and snuffles of my fellow soldiers, and the air reeked of sulfur.I had dreams that I was stuck in a dark stone room, the walls smooth and vertical.I scrabbled at them to try and find a way out, but they were polished to a sheen like glass, and my nails made an eerie skritching noise against them....
Which, I realized as I opened my eyes, was just the sound of Crespash vigorously scratching his balls with a dry twig.“Is that from my sacred staff?”I asked.
“Don’t blame me.”He tossed the twig into the brazier.“Take a man’s claws…he’s forced to make do.”
I sat up and shook my waterskin—empty—then glanced at my mud-caked boots.Gorgul was right about my slave’s lack of attention.Hopefully that meant the goblin had fared better with the task I’d actually charged him to do.“Did you find the shaman’s crypt?”
“Obviously not, otherwise I wouldn’t be sitting here watching you mumble to yourself in your sleep.Did your bunkmates back at the longhouse put up with that?”
“Keep your voice down.”I scented the air to be sure we were alone.The goblin was too blase about me being a soldier.“There’s no privacy here, and the tunnels make the sound carry.”
I stood and crossed the room to check my “staff,” the tree branch we’d hastily decorated on our trek to the Red Hand Clan.Staves are normally made by carefully selecting the proper wood, of a grain that is neither too tight nor too loose, honing it down, then curing and hardening the final product.Once hardened, the wood would be exactingly sanded and oiled, and with enough use, it would eventually fit itself to the shape of the holder’s grasp.
This thing we’d created was hardly stronger than the smoldering twig.In the forest, it had seemed passable.But if anyone took a better look at it, we’d be in real trouble.
“This whole ruse is a single false move away from falling apart,” I told Crespash, “And you’re in as much hot water as me.If you don’t find that crypt, this clan will stake your head right beside mine.”
“And that’s if they even give me a stake of my very own.Most likely they’ll just stack us together like a shish kebab.”
“This is no joke.”
“Indeed, it’s not.I covered at least ten miles of passages last night, and there was nary a crypt to be seen.Though I did find your little human sniffing around—”
“He was following my orders.”
“Oh?How can you be so sure?You weren’t there, after all….”
He trailed off at the sound of approaching footsteps.Crespash might love a good argument, but his instinct for survival is well-honed.Gorgul presented himself in my doorway with all the proper greetings, then announced, “My men and I have been searching all night for the crypt, Droko the Sage—”
Crespash muttered in my ear, “Loudly enough to wake every last dead shaman.”
“—and we haven’t found it yet.But—” the guard hastened to add, “I did discover something you will find very useful.Follow me, and I’ll show you.”
I waved him back into the hall.“I will join you in a moment.”
He retreated as I ordered, though not very far.I felt Crespash’s slobber against my neck as he leaned in to whisper, “He’s leading you off to the headsman already?”
“Doubtful.If the chieftain gave the order, Gorgul would carry it out himself, here, on the spot.”
The goblin scoffed.“What are you saying—you actually trust this brute?”
“We are orcs, not goblins.We know our place in the world.Gorgul has nothing to gain by seeing me fail.If anything, he’d want to prove his worth to keep his position secure.”I slipped on the ridiculous shamanic raiments we’d crafted on our way there.The leaves on the neckpiece were already crumbling.Leaving Crespash behind, I rejoined the lieutenant of my honor guard in the hall.
Gorgul led me deeper into the caves with a purposeful stride, and before long, a slither of unease crept up my spine.I’d been trained in the forest.I wasn’t used to being underground.And the farther we went, the more I wondered if maybe Crespash had sensed something about the guard’s motivations I’d been unwilling to see.
The passageway turned…then dead-ended.The perfect spot to trap me in an ambush.I tightened my grip on my makeshift staff.It creaked, and bits of bark sloughed off, scattering to the ground.Gorgul turned and smiled with great satisfaction.
I planted my feet, readying myself to dodge a spear, and flinched as he lunged….
Only to realize he’d folded humbly to one knee.He bowed his head and said, “I hope this tool will serve you well, Droko the Sage.It was Taruut’s private meditation chamber.It hasn’t seen use in decades—longer than any of the honor guard have served—because his sedan chair didn’t fit through the passage.But a pair of my best men have spent the night readying it for your use.”
Gorgul stood and shoved against the dead end, revealing that the wall was a stone that could be rolled aside.As he did, I let out a breath I’d been holding.Crespash might know caves…but he didn’t know orcs.Not like I did.Gorgul could be trusted to serve the shaman.It was just a matter of making sure he thought that shaman was me.
I nodded my approval to Gorgul and stepped into the chamber he’d revealed.The lieutenant stood right outside the door, erect and proud, spear drawn and ready to impale any who tried to gain access without my permission.
