Chapter 22 #2
A narrow path was now visible, demarcated by snowy ridges on the sides. The feeling that she should remain on the grass and that stepping onto the snow would be fatal was strong. There was no moon present, but the snow radiated a dim light of its own.
The guided path led to a solitary wooden cabin. She was confident she would find Urim’s mind in there. The door was unlocked, so she entered easily. The second the door shut behind her, the scene changed.
Gone was the dusty dark cabin, replaced by a boisterous tavern filled with music and dance. Orcs and humans drank and sang while servers passed around food and mead. Was this a memory or perhaps just a dream? There was an ease here that she had yet to see amongst the clan.
What there wasn’t was any sign of Urim.
Perhaps all the best, since she had to test something first. She walked up to a server at the bar and waved in front of his face. No reaction.
“Can I have some mead, please?” she said, but the response was the same.
“Hey, I am speaking to you.” This time she reached out and touched his shoulder. His eyes lit up as if seeing her for the first time.
This was good. She was invisible until she directly interacted with the scene.
“Of course, miss.”
He quickly filled her mug, which she took but didn’t drink. “Where can I find Chieftain Urim?”
The server frowned. “You mean Chieftain Ushnar? He’s in the room at the back of the hallway.”
Interesting. This must be an old memory from Urim’s youth.
She left the drink and made her way toward the back.
Even though it was only a few paces away, the lively energy of the other room quickly died down as she entered the hallway.
There were no orcs walking around here, and the only light was radiating from below a closed door at the end of the corridor.
She paused in front of the door, listening for a moment. When no sound came, she carefully turned the doorknob and opened it just enough to slip in.
Engrossed in tense conversation stood Urim and his brother. Calypso’s breath caught in her throat at how similar Vidorak looked to his father. Ushnar’s red markings also ran across his cheeks. Even frowning in frustration, Ushnar radiated a warm and strong demeanor.
Urim, on the other hand, looked the same as he had earlier today in the war council chamber. A man stuck between the present and the past.
“We have to attack before they do!” Urim insisted, slamming his clawed hand on the table between them.
“Why? Everything is going smoothly.”
“Barely. I see how the humans look at us. Orcs will never be equal to them.”
Vidorak’s father’s look of exasperation was that of someone who’s had the same argument many times. “They look with fear, but only until they get to know us. If we stay locked in the mountains, that will never happen.”
“I should never have allowed you to do this.”
Gone was the calm exterior as Ushnar’s patience waned. “You are not someone to allow me to do anything. I am the chieftain of the clan, lest you forget.”
At Ushnar’s hard stare, Urim relented, his shoulders sagging slightly. “Forgive me, brother. I want only the best for our clan.”
This was good enough for Ushnar, and the tension left his body.
“As do I. Each year, we are blessed with orclings and outside orcs that join our clan. Even more so after the plague in Rava. We can’t sustain them all at Vestrahorn. We need to expand, and the Silver Forest is where we will do this.”
Urim nodded.
“Come. Let’s enjoy the festivities and then get some rest. I plan to wake early and ride back to my Mor.”
With those words, Ushnar turned toward the door, facing Calypso. Behind him, she watched Urim’s mask drop as he drew a dagger from his side.
A yell of warning was on the tip of her tongue, but she bit it down, knowing the scene before her would play out, regardless. It was just a dream of a memory. She couldn’t get too involved and risk getting stuck.
All she could do was watch as Urim thrust the dagger into his brother’s back.
“Sorry, brother, but I will not stay and watch you lead the clan to ruin. We need strength. And that strength will be me.”
Red blood ran down Ushnar’s back, pooling at his feet. His eyes never left Calypso’s as he slid toward the ground. When his lips silently said the name of his mate, Calypso felt an ache deep in her chest that took her breath.
“Now it is time for you to see the chieftain.”
She was so focused on the fallen orc, it took her a moment to realize that statement was directed toward her.
Her eyes flickered up to see Urim staring back at her.
Her eyebrows furrowed, not understanding what was happening.
She hadn’t talked or interacted with anyone in the room, so he shouldn’t be sensing her right now.
Before she could do anything further, something wrenched her mind away, and everything went black. She gasped and coughed as if emerging from a lake she’d almost drowned in.
Vision slowly crept back as she blinked a few times. A blurry form of an orc stood above her, and for a second her heart picked up, thinking it was Vidorak. But as he came into view, dread settled in.
“I said, we are going to the chieftain.” Mabanok roughly hauled her up. “Where he’ll cut off your head and ship it to the capital.”