“Yes, there are rumors,” said Marthlis. “Even a few of the fringe newsheets reporting things, but it’s all so sensational. Elf women being ravaged by orc men, things of that nature.”
“It’s true,” said Dathor.
Everyone in the room looked at Aerhril.
“I countenanced the strategy myself,” said Dathor. “Elves are always frightened of it. How many orc men are chased down and strung up for daring to look sideways at some elf woman or other? I thought it was the way to get them where we wanted them.”
“Yes, I see why it is that he says you are a formidable adversary, not to be trusted,” said Marthlis. “I see entirely.”
“It was your idea?” said Aerhril, gaping at him.
He turned to look at her, furrowing his brow.
“Oh, yes, it was all about psychology and not about your just wanting to get back at Celedin,” she said, annoyed.
“Later,” said Dathor to her firmly.
“Who’s Celedin?” said Iahir, puffing on his pipe, smiling.
“The point is, the orc army is coming,” said Dathor. “And if we can time the death of the High King with their attack, itcould destabilize everything.”
“A perfect time to tear down the current government structure,” said one of the unnamed elves.
“So, when is it?” said Iahir, gesturing with his pipe.
“Not so fast,” said Dathor. “That information is all we have. We offer it up to you, and we lose all our leverage.”
Iahir smirked. “Well, anyone can make a good guess, I should think. If the reports are true, they’ve taken Bilkwood. They won’t want to wait too long, so it will be before winter, so sometime within the next few months. I can simply be at the ready, keep my ear to the ground, and when a report of an attack comes, I get him alone and stab him in the eye.”
“So graphic,” muttered Marthlis. But he turned to Dathor. “Iahir has a point. What do we really need you for? Your presence here is all the confirmation we really need that an orc army is coming. What do you really have for us of value?”
Dathor glanced at her, and she bit down on her lower lip. This was not going well, was it?
Had her outburst caused the turn? She hoped not. But sometimes, Dathor’s cruelty made her feel frightened. She could no sooner deny him than the sunrise, but he was not an easy man to love.
“Can you coordinate with the orc army?” said Marthlis.
“We hoped to,” said Dathor.
“Yes,” said Gathren.
Dathor looked up at the female, furrowing his brow.
“Dathor does not know this about me,” said Gathren, “but I am not just some orc warrioress. I am the daughter of the orc High Chieftain.”
Dathor drew back, looking up at her. He shook his head. “No, because if you were, I would have seen you in Arzakh—”
“You’re an orc princess?” said Iahir.
“No,” said Gathren to Iahir. “No, I am not born of his official marriage. I am the product of a dalliance.”
“You’re the orc High Chieftain’s bastard daughter,” said Marthlis.
“Not the same concept in the orc world,” said Dathor. “But that would explain why you were born here, in Lothnehil.”
“He is fond of me,” said Gathren. “He was very fond of my mother. He will negotiate if he knows you have me.”
Iahir let out a wild laugh and sucked on his pipe. “Let me get this straight, orc warrior woman—”
