Chapter 18
Merd Quickdigger came to Redmorning just after dawn. He had a scratch along one arm, but that was all. He nodded at the bodyguards in a friendly way.
"Hallo, Loudwhisper. 'Bout ready to move, Chieftain," he said. "Got everything loaded up. Got two piles of dead. Set them to burn before we go. Elves not got much we can use. Clothes the wrong shape. Got a few weird potions for the warlocks to look at. I gave those to Master Shel'yin. I separated out the weapons, if you want to look, Chieftain."
Redmorning was struck by a sudden thought.
"How many throwing glaives were there?"
"Twenty-odd," Merd said. "We didn't kill but twenty of those cat-riders, but some of 'em were carrying more than one."
"All right. Get your people formed up and ready to go. Darksun and Bladeleaper will form up our traveling defense as soon as you're in formation. Have we still got any catapults?"
"Got two, Chieftain," Merd said. "Big dragon-thing melted the other one. Wish we had time to skin them, but you know how it is. Anyhow, we using catapults to pull travois. Weren't much good today, since the Elves didn't show up with those arrow-throwers."
"Good," Veren Redmorning said. "Have someone send Glaive over here, will you?"
"Yeah, Chieftain," Quickdigger said, and moved off.
Glaive sauntered over a minute or so later. The druid Arinagh followed her, moving slowly. His skin seemed more gray than violet, and he had wiped the stripes of white paint from his face. Rokhyel Shadebreaker walked beside him.
"You want me, Chieftain?" Glaive said. She showed no signs of fatigue. Redmorning occasionally wondered if she ever slept at all.
"Could you teach Orcs to throw glaives?" Redmorning said.
"Nope," Glaive said immediately. "Not all Orcs, anyhow. Not easy weapon to use. You throw wrong, you lose finger. Catch wrong, lose hand. Elves spend long time training before use them in fight."
"How long did you spend?" Redmorning asked.
Glaive grinned. "Five years," she said. "Join Sentinels when I four tens old. Five years basic. Then go to new Leafdancer to train for huntress. Things not go so well from there."
The druid must have understood some of this. He turned to look down at Glaive with something like surprise. Meaning Glaive is better than she should be, for only basic training with this weapon.
"Mm hmm," Redmorning said. "Could you teach Kev'ran?"
Glaive looked at the warlock critically. "She got quick hands," Glaive said. "Good aim. Not very strong, for Orc, but plenty strong enough use glaive. If she not mind learn from Elf."
"I would consider it a privilege," Kev'ran said.
"Then go tell Merd how many you need, Glaive," Redmorning said. "He'll load them with the other extra weapons. Shadebreaker, I'd like to speak to you once we've got our caravan moving."
"Yes, Chieftain," the old knight said. Glaive was already gone again, with the druid lumbering after her.
Not long after, the Tattered Banner was on the move. The small column of Orcs ghosted through the trees, the pale sun gleaming on dark red skin. The wooden wheels of the catapults creaked faintly, and the travois hissed over the surface of the snow. Since there were only three catapults, some of the rough sledges were pulled by wolf teams. Veren saw spiders as big as beavers sitting among the bundles, huddled up against the cold. Not one was tethered. Looks like Merd's people have managed to tame them.
The grunt Begrin Hardbounder carried the clan's gray flag strapped to his back. He walked not far from Veren Redmorning, close to the center of the column. Redmorning was quietly pleased at the care and pride with which the other Orc carried out his task. It's not a beautiful banner. But it's ours.
Loudwhisper and Kev'ran walked to either side of him. Redmorning's surreptitious observation caught Kev'ran stumbling more than once. She made no complaint, and when she staggered, Loudwhisper caught her.
She's not the only one. We're looking at a hard fight followed by a hard march, and not everyone had as easy a night as I did. Thanks to Glaive and her prisoner, they had no wounded, but fatigue could be just as dangerous.
They had traveled perhaps a mile from the settlement when Rokhyel Shadebreaker moved up beside Veren.
"You wished to see me, Chieftain," the Shadebreaker said.
"I owe you my thanks," Veren Redmorning said. "And so does the clan."
The Shadebreaker paced alongside Veren, using his sword as a walking stick. "Your bodyguard deserves more thanks than do I. I cannot continue in this form without the taking of life."
"None of us can," Redmorning said. "I didn't find the skins I'm wearing lying around in the snow, Rokhyel Shadebreaker. Everything lives by killing something else, whether it's animals, plants, or…"
"Or Elves?" the Shadebreaker said. "Yes. You see the flaw in your own argument, Chieftain Redmorning. It is possible for me to continue by taking animal lives, but it takes a great many, or the animal must very be large."
Loudwhisper made a muffled sound. Veren looked at him.
"Same as me," he said. "Eat probably five times as much as Kev'ran."
Kev'ran chuckled. "I have seen him," she said.
"And I've seen you, Shadebreaker," Veren Redmorning said. "You can kill. So can everyone here, because those who couldn't are dead. But you don't like it."
The dead man looked down at Veren from dark and empty sockets.
"I cannot imagine how you could tell," he said.
"We made him Chieftain for a reason," said Kev'ran.