[Queen of Orcs 02] - Clan Daughter by Morgan Howell Read Free Book Online Page B

into rags, she explained how they would disguise themselves as cursed ones and how she would collect offerings along the way. When she finished, the two orcs looked confused.
    “Dargu, you have strange ideas,” said Duth-tok.
    “This will work,” said Dar.
    “Are washavokis so foolish?” asked Kovok-mah.
    “Hai,” said Dar.
    Kovok-mah curled his lips into a grin. “Then we are fortunate, indeed.” He regarded the rags and wrinkled his nose. “I’d like to wash those before we wrap ourselves with them.”
    “That is wise,” said Dar. “Zna-yat will complain less.”
    “You understand him well,” said Kovok-mah.
    Dar doubted it. “Where will you wash them?”
    “There is stream nearby.”
    “I’ll help you,” said Dar.
    Dar still had hopes that she had misread Zna-yat, and she wanted Kovok-mah’s impressions on the matter. However, when Duth-tok accompanied them, she chose to postpone that discussion. Kovok-mah led the way along slopes that were so heavily wooded that Dar soon stopped worrying about being spotted. A short walk brought them to a stream that tumbled down a hillside. Its clear water flowed cold and swift over bare rocks. Kovok-mah knelt down and began scrubbing the rags. Duth-tok and Dar helped.
    Dar did her best to wash the rags, but it soon became obvious that the orcs wished to cleanse away scents that she couldn’t detect. As they persisted in scrubbing cloth that seemed clean, Dar thought uneasily about her own odor. She didn’t need an orc’s nose to know both she and her clothes could stand washing. Dar excused herself and walked upstream to scrub her garments and bathe. She removed her clothes and tended to them first, scrubbing and rinsing them repeatedly. Afterward, she bathed. The icy water quickly chilled her, and Dar was soon shivering violently. Yet, she continued scrubbing as if she could somehow cleanse all the washavoki from her.
     
    Dusk found Dar walking down the road disguised as a cursed one. The bell atop her newly made staff jangled with each step. Dar’s brand was covered with a rag. Against her nose pressed another, which she had smeared with clay the color of dried blood. Rags were also wrapped around both her hands, so that one appeared entirely fingerless and the other seemed to be missing two. After dark, the orcs would venture forth in similar disguises, but only Dar’s could withstand scrutiny in daylight. Thus, only she could get food.
    After sneaking about for so many days, it took some time for Dar to get used to walking openly on the road. It helped that there was little traffic. The hills were sparsely populated, and Dar walked a long while before she encountered a small holding. It lay at the end of a dirt path leading into a hollow. Dar walked toward it, striking the ground with her staff to announce her approach. She still was a fair distance from the buildings when a stone flew over her head. Dar stopped walking and saw that the stone thrower was a boy. He was accompanied by a woman. The boy stooped to gather more rocks, but he didn’t throw them.
    “Stay away,” the woman shouted. “I’ll leave you bread.”
    Dar bowed and began backing down the path, keeping an eye on the boy. As she retreated, the woman advanced until she reached the road. There, she laid a blue-green object on the ground, then hurried away. Dar waited to examine the offering until the woman was gone. It was half a loaf of bread, covered with mold. As Dar bent to pick it up, a stone hit the ground in front of her. A second struck nearby. Dar grabbed the bread and hurried off.
    Returning to where the orcs were hiding, Dar served the moldy bread with the mushrooms. By the time the meal was finished, it was dark enough for the orcs to leave the woods. The waning moon cast little light, and the bell warned off anyone who was curious about the travelers on the road. Thus they passed uneventfully beyond the hills into country where small peasant holdings alternated with wild