My shock seemed to amuse the chieftain.“Yes, I’m fully aware of who you are.Taruut may have been living in his own little world—but he was still my shaman, and when he spoke, I heard him.”He waved a dismissive hand at the guards—both his and the shaman’s alike.“You stay here.I don’t want you breathing up all my air.”
“And me?”Quinn addressed the chieftain directly, bold as you please.Still as arrogant as ever.“Should I stay?”
“You, come along.You might prove useful.”
Gorgul was looking at the chieftain expectantly, like he was hoping to be singled out as well.And I imagine he was especially annoyed with me when it didn’t happen.
I was glad enough to leave him and all the rest of the guards behind.The entrance of the cave system was grand, but the tunnels quickly narrowed.And there was only one orc I had any desire to brush up against.
I led the group down the warren of paths that opened into the sauna chamber where I’d spent so much time recuperating on my hard, stony bed.While I wouldn’t say it felt like home, exactly, it was most definitely familiar.The stone surfaces had been hewn with care to integrate harmoniously with the natural formations in the chamber.Mist gave the room a hazy ambience, and the humid air was soothing to my lungs…even if it did, indeed, smell like rotten eggs.
The last time I saw Quinn, he was in rags—and I was flat on my back, drifting in and out of consciousness.I was absolutely dying to talk to him again and find out how he’d managed such a striking reversal of fortune, though I hadn’t much hope of it happening while the chieftain was in the room.I’ll say one thing about orcs: their pecking order is crystal clear.
And then Ul-Rott surprised me by conveniently shooing us aside.“Out of our way, little slaves.I need to consult the shaman.”
“You’ve certainly come up in the world,” I murmured as Quinn and I did our best to fade into the background.“That chain around your neck could buy my whole brothel.Maybe my whole village.And here I thought you were far too old to be a bedboy.”
I was only teasing—but even by the meager light of the braziers, I could see him blush.
“Well…I’ll be.Youarepolishing a big, green rod.Looks like you’ve made the best out of a bad situation.”
“It’s not like that.”
“—but I guess being the chieftain’s concubine does have its perks.”
“The—?”Quinn barked out a laugh, which earned him a nervous glance from Droko and a look of annoyance from the chieftain.He lowered his voice and said, “I’m just the chieftain’s horseman.”
He could protest all he wanted, but I wasn’t born yesterday.“Sure, you are.”I flicked his gold chain for emphasis.“And I’m a trembling virgin.”
“Ul-Rott didn’t give me this.”He settled his hand over the chain, fingering the heavy links.“Marok did.”
A person might argue that you can’t read much into the utterance of a few simple words.But it was clear to me that Quinn thought of the dour orc as more than just protection.“What about you?”he asked.“Are you okay?”
“For the time being.”Until someone poisoned the pantry, at any rate…or until I killed myself with my own dubious cooking.Quinn, always the cleverest one in the room—at least in his own mind—proceeded to avail me of the wisdom he’d gleaned over his many weeks living among the clan.Everything he told me, I’d figured out just by watching Gargle kowtow to the new shaman, but I didn’t bother to mention it.I was preoccupied with figuring out Droko’s body language as he spoke in low tones with the chieftain.Droko had fallen into his especially stiff and formal mode…the one he used when he was backed into a corner.
Ul-Rott seemed to make a big point of respecting his shaman.In fact, after the chieftain, the shaman was the most powerful member of the clan.
So, why was Droko nervous?
I shushed Quinn so I could eavesdrop on the orcs’ conversation.
“Of course, I’d normally have the shaman come to me,” Ul-Rott was saying.“The weight of all this rock pressing down on your head, the hiss of the steam, the sound of constant dripping…it’s no wonder Taruut was so batty.But a chieftain can’t show weakness in front of his clan.”
“And we don’t qualify as men, you and I,” Quinn whispered.“More like glorified lap dogs.”
I was about to tell him to speak for himself…but my thoughts went blank as the chieftain unhitched his belt and let his breeches fall to his knees…and his mammoth dick flopped out.
Dang.If he could train that thing to hold a sword, he’d be unstoppable.
“I’ve been too busy dealing with your former clan lately to have any time for coupling,” he told Droko…who’d gone evenmorestill.“So, give it to me straight.Has that whoreson across the river managed to lay a curse on me?Or did my wife pick up something from one of her ogres that’s been festering beneath my skin for months, only to erupt at the worst possible moment?I’m sure you’ve heard stories about Destroyer.Well, believe me when I say that riding that beast is nowhere near as effortless as I make it look.And now I’m plagued with some kind of pox right where I need it the least.”
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the monstrous green dick, but Quinn was apparently inured to such daunting sights.“It’s no pox,” he whispered.“All that chafing in the crooks of his thighs—those are saddlesores.”
In true Quinn fashion, he was about to pipe up and proclaim his vast knowledge to the room, just in case they didn’t already realize how smart he thought he was.“Wait,” I told him.“Let Droko do the talking.”
Droko considered the chieftain, then stepped forward and made several cryptic gestures.He murmured a few unrecognizable words as he rubbed his hands together and cupped them over Ul-Rott’s exposed groin.Once he was satisfied with whatever he’d gleaned from his “examination,” he straightened up and declared, “The shaman of the Two Swords Clan doesn’t have the strength to curse you at such a distance.”
“Are you sure?I paraded back and forth across that new river fjord at least half a dozen times....”
