“While the shaman cowered in his hut.”
People claim a fish hasn’t a clue that water’s wet—but Droko knew just what to say.Of course, I wasn’t actuallyworriedabout him—me, a mere human, and him a powerful shaman who obviously had everything figured out—
“But ogrescancarry a certain taint….”
Though only in terms of telling Ul-Rott what he wanted to hear!
Before Droko gave the chieftain something that would only make his malady worse, I hurried over to Taruut’s collection of herbs and unguents.I grabbed a pot of ointment he’d used to soothe the abrasions the rough metal slave collar had left on my neck.“A thousand apologies, my shaman,” I told Droko, “but I moved things around while I was organizing.”
I shoved the small ceramic jar into his hand, and he met my gaze…and held it.Just for the fraction of a heartbeat, but that was plenty.If I wanted to sabotage Droko, this would be the perfect way.Did he trust me enough to treat his chieftain?
He gave the concoction a sniff, tested it between his fingers, then handed it over to Ul-Rott.“The slave is still learning.”
Ul-Rott side-eyed the salve.“Seems like more trouble than he’s worth—but Taruut was fond of him, so maybe he’s got some potential.”He hitched up his pants and turned toward the exit.It seemed the harrowing exchange was nearly over—and somehow, we’d passed muster.
And then, of course, the chieftain had to go and ruin it by adding, “I’ll bet you’d snap that boy like a twig.Good thing your vows forbid you to couple.”
11
DROKO
Once Ul-Rott took his leave, I dismissed the guards, reminding them that we only had two days to find the crypt.And thanks to the chieftain’s lengthy visit, time was running out fast.
After the orcs cleared out, the only ones left were me…and Archie.The human who’d just saved my hide—or, at the very least, helped me look like a plausible shaman.Which probably amounted to the same thing.
But before I could acknowledge his service, he gave me a cool look and said, “If that will be all, Droko the Sage.”He knelt briefly, tapping one knee on the cave floor.“It’s been a very long night.”
I’ve always found the expressions of creatures without tusks fairly difficult to read.But the grim line of Archie’s mouth made it abundantly clear that he was none too thrilled.Without even waiting for my dismissal, he turned on his heel and walked off into the mist.
But I soon realized I wasn’t alone.Gorgul strode into the chamber and presented himself with a deep genuflection.“Droko the Sage, my spear is yours.”
The honorifics were starting to get tedious.Or maybe it was the way Archie had said the title, cold and inflectionless, that was burrowing under my skin.“What is it?”I asked the lieutenant…when what I wanted to say was,What is it now?
“My shaman…the men have been scouring the caves all day and night, and they are no closer to finding the crypt than they were when you arrived.”While there was no reproach in Gorgul’s voice, it was clear he thought we had a problem.“If the slaves are too distracting, I can take them off your hands—”
Without the slaves—withoutArchie—I would have pronounced the chieftain cursed and sent him on his way.But obviously, I could never let Gorgul suspect.“Tell me, Gorgul.How long have you lived in these caves?”
The question surprised him.“Many years.More than I have ever stopped to count.”
“Then, why would I waste your time with slaves when I need your expertise to find the crypt?”
“I’m honored by your confidence,” he said.I sensed a “but” coming.“But the caves are treacherous and several of the passages are unexplored.If the way forward is unclear, is it not the task of the shaman to divine the best path?And how can he do so if he’s distracted by slaves—?”
“Enough,” I said.I needed counsel, but he took too many liberties.“I don’t need an honor guard to defend me within my own walls.You will take all the men, break into teams, and scour these tunnels until you find the crypt.Understood?”
“My shaman is wise,” Gorgul murmured, genuflecting yet again.
I bit back a sigh.I was thinking like a soldier flushing out an enemy, not a shaman.And so, before he rose to leave, I added, “Meanwhile, I will toss the ivories and see what I can divine.”
That seemed to please the guard.He bobbed another half-bow as he backed out the door.
As much as I liked having good men to do my bidding, it was a relief to be alone…a relief that was short-lived.Once Gorgul’s footsteps faded, a familiar, ugly gray figure emerged from the mists, clapping mockingly.“Tossing the ivories?”Crespash said.“This oughtta be good.”
When a young boy shows the signs that will mark him as a future acolyte, his parents save his milk teeth as they shed instead of sacrificing them on the family hearth.These teeth are the prize possession of any shaman, more valuable than gold.Most orcs will never witness a shaman consulting his precious sack of teeth.But I was the son of a chieftain, and I vividly recalled watching from my sleeping loft as the shaman cast his teeth right on the grand table of my father’s hall.The audible clatter they made against the wood sent a chill creeping down my neck—a chill that still shivered through me, to this day, whenever I thought about that visit.
I, of course, had no spare teeth.
Unlike orcs, goblins don’t shed milk teeth.Their rows of blade-like fangs grow throughout their lives.So, Crespash could have chipped some “ivories” out of his own mouth for me—had his teeth not been prized out at the root long ago…on my father’s orders.An irony that was surely not lost on the goblin.
