[Queen of Orcs 02] - Clan Daughter Read Online Free Page B

as they were his. Without them he was only a sham, for auguring with the bones was the only real magic Othar could perform. Before they came into his possession, Othar’s sorcery relied on deception and a knowledge of herbs and poisons. His daunting presence had been all show, for his skills had scarcely exceeded those of a knowledgeable Wise Woman. The bones had changed that. When their unearthly coldness stung Othar’s hands, he felt powerful—a true sorcerer at last.
    Othar tossed the bones on the earthen floor and studied their portents. Never had the signs been so clear or promising. It occurred to him that the entity behind the bones was pleased by the battle’s bloody outcome, and it was rewarding him much the way a sated master throws his slave some meat.
    That night, Othar learned much that pleased him. He discovered where rich plunder could be had—enough to appease his greedy king. He saw that the mysterious threat was far away and retreating farther still. Additional study yielded even greater satisfaction. Othar’s unknown enemy was moving into peril. The mage read the signs for “betrayal,” “bloodshed,” and “soon.”

    Dar carefully rationed the food she stole, and it lasted for three nights of travel. During that time, the small plots bordered by hedgerows gave way to more open holdings. These were separated by woodlands and grew ever larger. Eventually, Dar and the orcs stopped encountering solitary huts. The land’s inhabitants lived in compounds that included dwellings of varying sizes, barns, and storehouses surrounded by broad fields and pastures.
    With the passage of time and distance, Dar grew accustomed to fear. However, she never lost her awareness of peril, whether she was trekking in the dark or hiding in daylight. She continued to feel lost, for they had yet to glimpse the mountains. Dar also watched Zna-yat carefully. He displayed no hostility toward her, and after a while she began to wonder if she had imagined his disgusted look. Still, Dar made a point of sleeping on the ground.
    After the food ran out, Dar resolved to steal some more, though it meant entering one of the compounds. It was well past midnight when she made the attempt. While the orcs hid, she crept toward a stone storehouse nestled among other buildings.
    Reaching the compound required crossing a broad field. Dar was close to the first buildings when a dog started barking. She dropped to the ground. Then she waited nervously, prepared to spring up and run for her life. The dog yelped, and the night became silent again. Dar didn’t move. A long time passed. Everything remained quiet. After a spell of indecision, Dar began to creep toward the storehouse, her ears straining for the slightest sound. She reached its heavy door without incident and pulled it open just enough to squeeze inside.
    The interior of the storehouse had the rich aroma of smoked meats. They were invisible within the pitchblack room. Dar was forced to search for them by shuffling about and waving her arms. When she touched a bin filled with goldenroot, she paused to stuff some in her knapsack. Then she continued groping for the meat that smelled so tantalizing. Dar was still searching when the door flew open and torchlight illuminated her.
    The torch was held by a boy who gripped the leash of a muzzled dog. Two grown men, armed with pitchforks, accompanied the boy. He remained put, grinning with excitement, as the two men entered the storehouse. Dar drew both her daggers. The men advanced, backing her into a corner.
    “You’ll drop those blades if you’re wise,” said one of the men.
    “Stick her!” yelled the boy.
    “Patience, young master,” said the other man. “Your father said we’re to let the thief surrender.”
    “Best be quick,” said his companion.
    Dar weighed her chances in a fight, then dropped her daggers.
    “Smart lass. Now, kick them away.”
    Dar complied and one of the men picked them up. Afterward, he ordered her to