“Even you know better than to keep the chieftain waiting.Praise Ul-Rott.”
I heaved a heavy sigh, and to Kof’s retreating back, murmured, “Indeed.My ladle is his.”
There hadn’t been much time to prepare, but the honor guard had done an impressive job of turning an abandoned storeroom into a plausible tomb.
At least…I think they had.Kind of hard to tell with all the incense.
The irregular natural chamber was shrouded in a smoky haze, as if the walls were made of fog.The heavy incense burned like thick, cloying perfume and filled the chamber with a dizzying array of smells.Ul-Rott stood in the center, flanked by two enormous guards, their faces obscured by the smoke.The chieftain waved his hand in front of his face to clear away some of the smog so that he could see who had entered.
“Where’s the blasted shaman boy?”he demanded of no one in particular.“Let’s get this over with before I go blind.”
I couldn’t help but compare the impromptu crypt to the makeshift dwarven tomb I’d stumbled into before.They were nothing alike.While the dwarves slept their eternal sleep in a stately, quiet, dignified arrangement, the meditation chamber had been crammed with props.Among the chests and urns and statues, a half dozen wooden biers had been assembled.And on those slabs lay an assemblage of skeletons.Maybe notwholeskeletons.I suspected that while there’d been a big selection of bones to choose from, they’d be a mishmash of various orcs and other unfortunates who’d ended up in the bone piles.But the rotting shrouds held them together well enough.
I had no attention to spare for the decorations, though.I was too busy watching my poison plan fall apart.I caught the eye of one of the honor guard and whispered, “Where’s Gorgul?”
“How should I know?”he snapped, and I felt myself wither inside.Without Gorgul, there’d be nothing to show for my oh-so-clever plan but a spicy grub.
Meanwhile, Kof set the plate down directly within Ul-Rott’s reach.The chieftain waved away the proffered food, his attention focused on something else entirely.“What’s that writing scratched into the wall?”he asked Kof.A few members of the honor guard shifted subtly, wondering if they’d gone too far in their set dressing.Ul-Rott squinted.“Curses?Spells?Bah.This witchcraft makes my skin crawl.”
“Who kens the ways of a shaman?”Kof said vaguely, and the chieftain grunted a non-reply.
Then Droko entered the room in full shaman regalia…and everyone went dead silent.No scuffed leather armor today.Instead, he wore a single deer hide slung low on his hips and a cloak with a spray of pheasant tails affixed to the collar.His hair had been freed from his topknot and braided with threads of gold.Most striking of all, though, was the big red-ochre hand print in the center of his chiseled bare chest.
Droko was no shaman.He’d told me so himself.He should have looked preposterous in shamanic adornments.But standing there so tall and proud and strong, he wasn’t silly at all.
He was glorious.
He stepped forward and surveyed the room, his gaze taking in everything: the biers, the incense, the walls veiled in fog.He stood there for a momentowningthat smoke-filled room, then gestured for a pair of Taruut’s men to enter.I recognized them as one of the teams who’d carted the old man around in his sedan chair.In tandem, as always, they carried his shrouded form one final time to his resting place.
Droko brought with him a sense of calm assurance.His voice was low but clear when he spoke.“Taruut is here among us tonight,” he said.“His spirit will be honored and remembered.”
Ul-Rott watched him expectantly for a long moment, then narrowed his eyes and said, “That’s it?”
“Now it’s time for you to say a few words.”
“Taruut is dead.He served the clan long…and well.”
And…still, no Gorgul.Droko’s gaze locked with mine and his eyes widened.To the chieftain, he said, “But surely there’s a clever prediction of his that needs retelling—”
“The old man knew exactly what I thought—we didn’t mince words.Let’s face it, these ceremonies are for the living, not the dead.And Taruut was so old, we’ve all had plenty of time to say our goodbyes.”With that blasé pronouncement, Ul-Rott waved aside a fresh cloud of incense and reached for a grub.
I’d been so worried the chieftain would grab the wrong one, I hadn’t even considered he’d manage to do it while the target of our whole deception wasn’t even here!
Ul-Rott plucked a wriggling morsel from the plate and gestured toward Taruut’s bier.“And he’d certainly get a kick out of you being so extravagant with the rubyseed on his behalf.”
Was that Fattie?I thought it was.So many places my cunning plan could fall apart, only to have it go awry because that stupid orc chose this particular moment to make himself scarce—
“Stop!”With the force of a boulder rolling off a cliff, Gorgul plowed into the room, striking the squirming grub from the Chieftain’s hand.
If something like that had happened in the brothel, I can guarantee, most everyone would either be ducking under the table to avoid being hit by a random projectile, or pointing and laughing (if they simply couldn’t resist.) But to these orcs?A swipe at their chieftain was no laughing matter.
Swords and spears whipped out faster than a paying man’s dick eager for a quickie.The chieftain’s men had a clear objective: keep Gorgul away from their leader.The honor guard of the shaman pointed their spears every which way since, irrational or not, Gorgul was one of their own.Kof waded through the pointiness and dragged his lieutenant away from the chieftain before anyone could do us the favor of running him through.
“Stand down,” he barked at his men, then sent Gorgul reeling back with a well-placed shove, demanding, “What’s this all about?”
Gorgul grabbed up Fattie and held him aloft so the light of the biggest brazier fell on its plump, squirming, spice-dusted body.“The grub you almost swallowed is poisoned!”
When Kof swung around and lined me up in the gaze of his single eye, I realized it was possible my plan might work out a bit too well.His grip on his spear tightened.I threw my hands up—would that stop him from running me through?—and said, “Poison?That’s preposterous!It’s covered in rubyseed, nothing more.”
