Chapter 25
Veren Redmorning stood back from the cave entrance, watching Shel'yin and Glaive stand in the opening. Both stood to one side of the sentries, blending their silhouettes with that of a catapult. The air was very still, but the cold from outside seemed more immediate than the warmth from inside. Redmorning quashed a shiver.
"They are gone," Shel'yin said finally. Glaive turned and padded back to Veren.
"I go hunt now?" she said.
Redmorning raised one eyebrow. "You know better than that, Glaive."
Glaive rolled her eyes. "Not Elves. I know where find giant wolf pretty close."
"What for?"
"For dead man," the Elf said patiently. She twitched her head at the Undead, who stood in the shadow not far from the cave mouth. He had pulled his hood up again. He stood with his head bowed, hands wrapped tight around his sword hilt.
"Warden cut his neck," Glaive said. "Bleed slow, 'cause he dead, but he still be dry as stone by morning." She showed no sign that the prospect disturbed her.
"Then by all means, go," Redmorning said. "Shadebreaker, we should have some clothes cut down to fit by the time you're back. You're liable to have bits of skin freezing to your mail if you go out in the cold very often."
"Thank you, Chieftain," Rokhyel Shadebreaker said. He stalked out into the night, following the lithe form of the Elf.
"He's never far from where she is," Veren said to Shel'yin. "Do you suppose…"
"No." The warlock shook his head. "An Undead is not capable of any such thing, unless my understanding is flawed."
"I doubt whether Glaive is, either," Redmorning said. No saying which one of them is colder. "It makes me wonder why they seem to keep saving each other."
Shel'yin shrugged. "They have more in common with each other than with anyone else here. Perhaps that is all."
"Perhaps," Redmorning said. His bodyguards were not far off, but they stood back out of earshot. Veren seized his opportunity. "What about you and Kev'ran?"
The tall warlock turned to look down at him. His eyes still glowed in the dark, but very dimly. "I do not understand."
Redmorning stared at Shel'yin. "You're serious," he said. "Bloody hellfire. You've really never even talked to her about it?"
"There is nothing to discuss," Shel'yin said. "I would not be an appropriate match for Kev'ran."
"And why is that, exactly?"
Shel'yin muttered something.
"I didn't quite catch that, Warlock," Veren said. "Did I hear the word 'weak' pass your lips? Would this be in some way related to the events of yesterday?"
"You do not understand, Chieftain," Shel'yin said. "I came within a hair of striking her."
Veren was startled by the abject humiliation in the warlock's voice. I've never heard him admit he was wrong before, he recognized silently. Yesterday was the closest to loss of personal control anyone here has ever seen him, and he knows it.
"Yes," he said. "But you didn't do it. And after she had to help you up, you carried Glaive in here all by yourself. I think you'll find that Kev'ran was as impressed by that as I was."
Shel'yin looked back toward the bodyguards, who stood chatting. He said nothing.
"Go talk to her," Redmorning said. The other Orc stood still, hesitating. "Warlock," Veren Redmorning said. "Did you think I was making a request?"
Shel'yin muttered something that was almost certainly disrespectful. He turned and walked back toward the two guards. His feet were soundless on the cave floor.
Veren Redmorning allowed himself a small, inward smile. Then he went to check on the peons.
"Oh, just about done," Veddy Sharpneedle said, in answer to his question. Except for Merd's broken undertusk, she might have been his twin instead of his spouse. "Gave it to Nez the Small. Quickest hands."
Redmorning blinked. "Who?"
"Over there," Veddy said, waving a hand toward the cave wall.
Veren walked over to the indicated area, bemused. Most of the peons had names like Goodbuilder or Scarfinger. It seems like it would take a very tiny peon to end up with a name like Small.
He was right. Nez the Small sat crosslegged on the floor, hemming a tunic with nimble fingers. The bald head was bowed over the task, but it was still clear that Veren Redmorning was looking at the shortest peon in the clan.
"Nez?" he said.
The peon looked up, revealing a broad-boned face that was quite clearly female. A look of suppressed panic appeared and disappeared as Redmorning watched.
"Chieftain!" the peon leapt to her feet, clutching the tunic. She bowed. "Almost done. Just a couple inches."
"No hurry," Veren said. "I'm sure we have a little while until Glaive and Shadebreaker get back."
Demons, he thought, as he looked at the petrified Orc. She can't be taller than five feet. Which makes two Orcs in this entire clan that are shorter than I am.
He could see why she'd ended up a peon. She was stockier than a wolf rider, but not bulky enough for a grunt. And she wasn't lucky enough to know any unexpectedly egalitarian warlocks, like Kev'ran was.
"Er," he said, when he realized she was still staring up at him. Her eyes were very large above the wide planes of her face. "Go ahead and sit down. I'm sorry to have interrupted you."
Nez turned, if possible, darker crimson than before. "Not a problem, Chieftain," she said, and sat down quickly. "Um. Very glad to help."
Redmorning crouched beside her, back pressed to the wall, and watched. The peon was obviously nervous, but Veddy Sharpneedle was right: she did have quick hands. The bone needle darted in and out rapidly, leaving behind very neat stitches.
The question remains: just why is she nervous? Veren thought. She has to have seen me many times. There aren't that many of us. It's just a random chance that I haven't talked to her before.
"Is something wrong, peon?" he asked after a moment.
"No, Chieftain," Nez the Runt said. "'M not too good at meeting people. Um. 'Til I get to know them."
"So how did you end up coming to Azeroth?"
"Used to have a brother," Nez said. "He wanted to come."
Redmorning winced internally. "What happened to him?"
"Up in a watchtower, first time the Night Elves hit us," Nez said.
Veren Redmorning was unlikely to forget that night. He still had the scars on his chest. One single Orc stayed in a burning tower, and kept on shooting at the Elves.
"He'd be Zere Deepminer, then," Redmorning said. "A very brave Orc."
"Yeah," Nez said. "He was. Never was too smart, but he was real brave." Her tone was matter-of-fact, though the loss must be very fresh.
"I'm sorry," Redmorning said.
"Me, too," Nez the Small said. "Miss him. But you go on, you know?" She glanced quickly at him, then flushed darkly again.
"I do know," Veren Redmorning said gently. "I had a brother once, too. But that was a long time ago. He died fighting the Naga."
Nez cut the end of the thread across one tusk. She folded the tunic neatly, then tucked her needle into a belt pouch.
"Guess that should fit," she said.
"Did you take his measurements?" Redmorning said. Nez shook her head.
"Don't have to. Pretty good at going by eye. Um. It worked with yours."
Redmorning glanced down at his own tunic, startled. "You made this?"
"Yeah, Chieftain," Nez said. "Easy. You stand real straight, so it always hangs right. Kind of harder, make things for the Bladeleaper."
"I can see how it would be," Redmorning said. "And I appreciate it." He stood up. "Would you give the clothes to Shadebreaker as soon as he comes in? Or would you rather I had Veddy do it?"
"Naw," Nez said. "I like the Shadebreaker. Um. He's always real polite."
Which is probably the highest praise she can give. With a name like Nez the Small, I'm sure she's been bullied her entire life.
"That he is," Redmorning said. "It's been a privilege to meet you. Have a good night, Nez the Small."
"Night, Chieftain," she said.
---
Nez the Small watched the Chieftain walk away. He was very graceful. She'd heard that Blademasters always were.
Not like ours, I bet. Nez hadn't told him all the truth. She wasn't very good at meeting new people. She didn't usually blush when spoken to, though. Peons, responsible for delivering newborns and laying out the dead, generally got over that very early in life.
"Demons," she said to herself. "Get in some trouble, anybody figure that one out."
She shook her head and went to put the new tunic with the leggings.