Chapter 13
The next few days passed in frantic activity. It snowed heavily, and often. The peons built banks of packed snow in a great semicircle around the edges of the trees, leaving only the spaces beneath the supports of the two watchtowers. Water was heated and thrown onto the makeshift barricades, forming a crust of ice.
The Tattered Banner readied itself to move. Those buildings which could be dismantled were taken down piece by piece, bound up and loaded on travois. Merd Quickdigger took apart the loom himself. His wife, Veddy Sharpneedle, packed each piece in silk.
Veren Redmorning spoke long with Glaive and with his lieutenants, trying to decide where they would go.
"It'll take days to get out of the woods, no matter which way we choose," Kerd Bladeleaper said one cold afternoon, as they sat around a fire in the newly roofless great hall. Lev Darksun was out patrolling: it was rare for both of them to be in camp at the same time. Kerd sat with her elbows on her knees, looking tired as she always did. A very large Orc stood outside the nominal entrance, his broad back obscuring the doorway.
"Better not go North," Glaive said. "Elves touchy, anybody get close to Mount Hyjal now." The Elf seemed to have recovered completely from her injury, now that a few days had passed. Her older cuts had dwindled to scars, white lines on her purple skin.
"That's understandable, given what Shel'yin tells me about recent history here," Veren said. The warlock nodded. Even seated, he was still tallest of the five.
Veren glanced at the fifth person present. Kev'ran sat quietly between Glaive and Shel'yin, listening but not speaking. The Chieftain was a little puzzled as to the reason for her presence, now that he was well enough not to need a warlock's constant attention. Shel'yin had requested that she be allowed to sit in, and Veren had allowed it, but he now began to feel misgivings. No one else here has a partner. If anyone else starts to see what I'm seeing, they'll think I'm showing her favoritism because she's with Shel'yin.
"My raiders won't be sorry to leave this forest," Bladeleaper said bluntly. "The trees start to close in after a while. Especially now that it's winter."
Shel'yin grunted agreement. "The other warlocks feel the same," he said.
"No good going west, then," Glaive said. "Lots more forest that way. You go straight south, end up in Stonetalon Mountains."
"I don't think that would improve our circumstances," Veren said.
"Doubt it," Glaive said. She pulled her feet up and sat perched on the chair, hands grasping the seat. "Green Orcs northeast. They touchy 'bout demon Orcs, probably kill you quick as see you. You go southeast far enough, skip around the bottom of the Stonetalons, you end up in the Barrens. Lots of space there. No snow, either. Hot most times of the year."
"Is it a desert?" Shel'yin asked.
Glaive shrugged. "Don't think so. Not much water, but lots of grass. Only ever saw it once."
"If there's grass, water can't be scarcer than it is on Outland," Redmorning said.
"Ern'het and Ker'nai both have some dowsing skill," Shel'yin said. "We will find water. If we can survive such a march in winter. Particularly with wounded, which we would certainly have."
Glaive sniffed. "Won't survive here," she said. "Elves spread thinner than up North, but you in a lot of trouble soon as they find out you red Orcs. Get plenty down from the Moonglade before Spring."
"We may be able to find a place between here and there," Redmorning said. "It's clear that we'll have to make the attempt. Assuming most of us survive the next attack, that is. I've meant to speak to all of you about that. I've already talked to Lev."
"It is possible that the clan will survive," Shel'yin pronounced. "There will be heavy casualties, of course. Some of us in this room probably will die."
This very thing had been preying on Veren's mind every since his injury. Lying in the great hall, he'd had considerable time to think. Every time we get into a serious fight, I end up a casualty. I'm probably the worst fighter ever to lead a clan.
"It's quite possible that one of those will be me," Veren Redmorning said.
The other Orcs looked at him in silence. Glaive inspected her fingernails.
"We all know that I'm nowhere near the best warrior here," Veren said. "So if anything should happen to me, I want you to follow Shel'yin. And I want you to see that no one tries to force either Glaive or Shadebreaker to leave."
"This my place now," Glaive said, showing her teeth in what might, just possibly, be a smile. "Not get rid of me easy."
Shel'yin raised a black eyebrow. "This is beside the point," he said. "I took an oath. If I permitted your death, I would not be fit to lead."
"We talked it over," Kerd Bladeleaper said. "You shouldn't be running around alone during battles, anyway."
Veren blinked. "That's the way it's always been done," he said.
"You should know better than that, Chieftain," Kerd said mildly. She scratched the side of her narrow jaw, where an old scar stretched the skin. "We're not going to get anywhere doing things the old way."
"In a group of berserks, if a leader falls, another may easily take his place," Shel'yin said. "But we are no longer savages. We require organization. You can provide that better than anyone else, and your death would be a significant blow to the clan."
"So we decided you need an honor guard," Bladeleaper said. "Someone to watch your back. So you can worry about tactics while we worry about the knife work."
"You still be fighting," Glaive said, overriding his objection. "Just less likely get killed right off. So not be saying any stupid Orcish thing about being coward."
Veren looked into three sets of eyes, two green and one black, and understood that the decision had already been made. It would be just like Shel'yin to wait until the battle starts and then send someone over anyway. Glaive did not look particularly interested in the discussion, but he was never sure with Glaive.
"Who did you have in mind?" he asked finally. "The clan can't spare its commanders for that kind of work. Especially you, Bladeleaper. If you're not mobile, you're not much good to us."
"That is why I asked that Kev'ran be present," Shel'yin said. "Given her particular strengths, I thought she would be an excellent choice. She is too small for most hand-to-hand, but her craft is excellent and her aim is better than mine. Better than any warlock in the clan, in fact. While she is near you, no enemy can reach you."
And she'll be mostly out of harm's way, if I'm not running through the melee, Veren thought. Though that doesn't sound like Shel'yin's typical reasoning. If this had occurred to the big warlock, it did not show anywhere on his face.
"And what if her mana runs out?" Veren said.
"That will be Loudwhisper's problem," Kev'ran said.
"Who?" Redmorning said.
Veren had forgotten the Orc in the doorway. He turned slowly as Redmorning spoke, until he faced into the room. He was not as tall as Shel'yin, but he was wider. His tunic strained at its seams, muscle bulging on every inch of visible skin. His eyes were very long and thin, green slits in his flat face.
"This is Dib Loudwhisper," Kerd said. "Lev chose him, and the rest of us agreed. He's strong, he's quick up close, and he keeps his head."
"That's high praise, coming from Kerd Bladeleaper. I would think you'd be needed with the footsoldiers," Veren said, eyeing the other Orc. "You ought to be worth your weight in dead enemies."
"Be a lot of dead enemies," Glaive said. She stood up on the wooden seat, inspecting the Orc critically. "He big as storm wyrm."
Dib Loudwhisper turned his head to look at the Elf. Veren was almost surprised when there was no grinding sound. I wonder if Orcs and golems can breed. I'll wager he's heard that one too often.
"Can't run," Loudwhisper said. The reason for his name became obvious at once. He spoke in a very quiet, rasping bass, and every word seemed to be a strain. Redmorning received the impression that, while he might not be stupid, speaking was very difficult for him.
"No good at axe, either," the Orc said.
"Lev said the handles kept breaking," Kerd Bladeleaper explained. "And it's harder for him to avoid hitting the others. He's got quite a reach."
"Then what do you use for a weapon?" Veren Redmorning asked. Dib turned and reached down for something in the snow outside the doorway. He came up with a spiked club that seemed to have been made from the trunk of a small tree.
"This, Chieftain," Loudwhisper said.
"I see," Veren Redmorning said.
Demons, he thought. That thing must weigh as much as I do.
"I will be able to stay out of his way," Kev'ran said. "And he need concern himself with nothing else, since he will not be part of an ordinary battle line."
"Are you willing to work with Kev'ran?" Veren Redmorning asked. Some of the grunts were less than comfortable around the spellcasters, and one or two of the older ones were known to grumble about the female raiders.
"Glad to, Chieftain," Dib said.
"Then consider it settled," Verne Redmorning said.
"Good," Kerd Bladeleaper said. "Now that's over with, I had a question about the formation we've been talking about…"