“They mean nothing. If the human truly carried some vile magic, wouldn’t the entire Lost Clan be riddled with sickness as well? I saw no signs of it among them.”
“Mark my words, Kof. Pretty soon I won’t be the only one laid out like a felled animal.”
“Where Archie can see to your treatment,” I told her. She scoffed. I said, “If the human brought the sickness, then a human can cure it.”
Ulka rolled onto her side and put her back to me. “You’ve changed,” she said, then went silent.
I followed Archie to his chambers, ruminating on Ulka’s words. If tell of this supposed “curse” got back to Ul-Rott….
I glanced at young Grok. He was busy digging something out from under his fingernail and showed no sign of having heard the accusation at all. Besides, he seldom left the caves. I sent him back to his post and followed Archie into his apothecary.
Archie stepped into the center of the chamber and turned dramatically to face me. “I knew something was eating you—I just didn’t know what. Spill it, Kof. Tell me all about this new human. And don’t leave out a single thing.”
What was there to tell? Not much Archie didn’t already know. I told him the human traveled with the Lost Clan and was covered in tattoos. He’d acted as flagoner for the feast. And that was all.
Archie raised an eyebrow. “That’s all?”
“What more could there be?”
“You tell me.”
I realized I hadn’t mentioned him trying to steal a knife from the larder. But really, who could blame such a small, weak human for wanting to defend himself?
Archie said, “If you’re so keen on the human, maybe you should buy him.”
“He’s not a slave,” I said quickly.
“Ah. My mistake. Because one always encounters a half-dressed human serving a group of orcs of their own free will.”
“Eli has no brand.”
“Eli, is it?” Archie smiled knowingly. “I’m told the Lost Clan has no leader. If that’s the case, there’d be no brand to mark him. But there’s always a strict chain of command where orcs are concerned. There must be someone calling his shots.”
I very nearly denied it—the Lost Clan hasneverhad a leader. It was not just fact, it was tradition. But then I remembered something Eli had when I asked about his master.Pilgrim didn’t send me.
Which made me wonder if the Lost Clan was truly as leaderless as they made themselves out to be.
9
Eli
It must’ve been midday when the chest lid was yanked open. Even the dim light hurt my eyes. And I recognized Pilgrim even before he came fully into focus.
“Cough,” he told me.
I didn’t ask why. Just did as I’d been told.
“No, you idiot.” He grabbed me by the upper arm and dragged me to my feet. Pins and needles played down one leg from my long, cramped confinement in the box, and my sarong threatened to drop off entirely. “Your guard with missing eye. His name is Kof. Captain of the shaman’s honor guard. Pay him a visit and weasel your way in.”
“How do you expect me to gain an audience?”
Pilgrim shifted his grip. I steeled myself from flinching, since recoiling from him only made it worse. I expected pain. A crushing squeeze, or a brutal wrench. But instead, he draggeda single, callused finger down the sinew of my shoulder. Suggestively, he said, “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
His toadies all laughed.
Shamans are just as revered—and just as feared—as chieftains. Maybe more, since orcs are even more superstitious than sailors…and that’s saying a lot. Chances of me slipping into the shaman’s retinue were slim, but I’d have to insinuate myself if I wanted to prove my worth. As long as I was useful, I’d be safe.
And as for this Kof…maybe I could manage to sway him.
