Priestess of War (The Bowl of Souls Book 10), page 16
“That reminds me. I’m really hungry. How ’bout you two?” Charz said suggestively, rubbing his belly.
“Okay, but does that actually tell us anything useful?” Fist said.
“It just verifies that these beasts are domesticated and being cared for by whomever it is that the Dark Prophet sent to supervise Mellinda’s power,” Locksher replied. “In other words, they are her pets. Clean of any contamination from the Black Lake.”
“But . . . couldn’t you already tell that by the collars they were wearing?” Fist asked.
Locksher pursed his lips. He cleared his throat. “Always be thorough, Fist. There are surprising developments in any investigation.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out one of the collars. “Speaking of the collars they were wearing. What do you see?”
“You seriously are just gonna ignore me?” Charz asked with a scowl.
The wizard lifted the collar up in front of Fist’s face. It looked to be made of leather with a metal clasp that had a red stone in the center of it. Fist switched to spirit sight and saw that it shimmered a faint white.
“I see a little spirit magic in it,” Fist said. “But it’s not like before. When we were fighting them earlier, a red line of spirit magic was linked to them.”
Locksher raised an eyebrow and looked closer at the collar himself. “More of that red spirit magic, eh? How fascinating. Do you know what this collar is?”
Fist shrugged. “My guess was that they were a way for her to control them since they aren’t infested.”
“Ah!” the wizard said with an approving nod. “Good deductive reasoning. You are quite close. These collars serve two purposes. The first one is, as you suspected, as receivers for spirit magic. You see, an accomplished witch can control animals within the range of their power, but once the beast is out of their range, control is lost. These allowed her to add a great distance to her range. The collar’s secondary purpose is as a sort of receptor. This red stone allowing her to see what it is the animals are seeing. She couldn’t give them accurate instruction otherwise. ”
“Then . . . she was using them as scouts.” Fist said.
Locksher nodded. “I would assume so.”
“But that doesn’t explain why they attacked Rufus,” Fist pointed out.
“Hey!” interrupted Charz with a scowl. “Time to listen to the giant! I’ve been trying to tell you big brains that supper’s on! The lady ogres have got food just sitting there waiting for us!”
Meat! Rufus agreed through the bond and Fist realized that the rogue horse was elsewhere in the camp with Qenzic standing next to a huge sizzling roast. The smell of it set Fist’s mouth watering.
He swallowed. “Sorry, Master Locksher. Can we continue this later? I haven’t eaten all day.”
“Indeed!” said the wizard and to Fist’s surprise added, “I am quite famished myself. This has been very hungry work! First, let me dispose of this bile.”
The wizard took a moment to incinerate the contents of the metal tray and Charz led them across camp to a fireside next to the Big Cave. There, on a spit being rotated by Marg the Gutter, was an entire leg of mammoth, steaming and dripping with grease. The leg was huge, easily as long as Charz was tall and nearly as thick.
Qenzic sighed. “Thank goodness you’re here. She wouldn’t let us eat until you came.”
Meat! Rufus agreed saliva dripping from one corner of his wide mouth.
“Dear me!” said Locksher apprehensively. “What an enormous . . . meal.”
“It’s a ceremonial roast,” Lyramoor explained. “Thanks to our work in today’s battle. Crag said they would’ve given us one sooner, but none of the hunting parties killed a mammoth until yesterday.”
That was good news. The presence of the Black Lake’s army had cut off most of the tribe’s regular hunting grounds and the ogres had been forced to send hunters southward down the slopes. Having hunted mammoths himself, Fist imagined that dragging a beast this large up the slopes must have been quite a pain.
“This meat is for whole Big and Little People Tribe!” Marg, the tribe’s resident butcher, barked, looking very put out at having this duty. “Crag telled me to cook it, but it not my job!”
Fist understood her irritation. A roast like this took a very long time to cook. She must have been at it for hours already. He wondered if Crag had ordered her to cook it as a punishment.
Fist looked around. “Has anyone seen Maryanne?” He hadn’t seen her since the fight had ended.
“You no need wait for you skinny women,” Marg said dismissively. “She not eat much.”
Fist frowned, wondering what the gnome warrior was up to. Since arriving at the Thunder People Territory, Maryanne hadn’t left his side for more than an hour at a time. What if she was mad at him?
“Didn’t want to wait for her anyway! Let’s eat!” Charz said, grabbing a steaming hunk of meat and pulling it off the roast in one strip.
Lyramoor dug in as well, cutting a piece free.
Locksher stepped closer, staring at the deep red meat exposed by the giant’s eager pull. “This doesn’t seem to be an efficient cooking method for a roast this size. It looks raw in the middle.”
“So? What’s wrong with leaving it bloody?” the giant asked, lifting the dripping meat and taking a large bite out of it.
“That’s what you have to do,” Fist explained. “When ogres have a roast this big, we eat on it all night, pulling off strips and turning it to keep cooking as we go.”
“That how you eat,” Marg said, looking at the wizard like he was stupid.
“Marg,” said Fist. “You don’t have to stay here while we eat. Rufus will turn the spit.”
“I not?” Marg blinked a half smile appearing on her face. “The gwatch do it?”
“Not a gotch,” Rufus reminded her, but nodded, happy to help. “I turn.”
Marg grunted and patted Rufus’ arm. She placed his hand on the handle of the spit. “You good gwatch. I go.”
“Not Gotch!” Rufus protested louder, but she just smiled before walking away. The rogue horse began turning the roast, trying to do it slowly like she had done.
“Somehow she seems less bright than most ogres,” Qenzic observed.
“Brain like a brick,” Lyramoor agreed.
“She doesn’t talk well, but she’s smarter than you think,” Fist said with a frown. He had never liked the way people treated Marg. She was good at her job. “Still, I thought I should get her to leave before Locksher offended her by cooking the roast with his magic.”
The wizard pushed back the sleeves of his robes. “It really must be helped along. I do not have all night to wait. “ He raised his hands and paused, glancing at Fist. “I have likely not eaten this particular type of beast. Is it gamy? I have a spell that can take out odd flavors.”
“Tastes like cow to me,” Charz replied.
“I dunno,” Lyramoor disagreed. “Kind of like a mix between venison and wild yak.”
Qenzic used a knife to cut off a piece. He chewed it. “It’s pretty good. Could use some salt I guess.”
“A useful observation,” Locksher said with a nod. The wizard reached into a pocket deep within his robes and pulled out a white rock. He looked at it sadly. “I’ll probably have to use the whole thing.”
He blew and the rock disintegrated into a fine powder that flowed through the air on streams of golden magic before disappearing into the roast. Locksher then sent threads of fire throughout the meat, cooking it completely through.
“There! It should be edible now.” He excised a steaming piece with his ceremonial knife and took a bite, chewing with a satisfied nod.
Fist tore a strip free, hissing through his teeth as he burnt the tips of his fingers. He juggled the meat from hand to hand until it cooled enough to handle. He took a bite and groaned. Not only had he been starving, but the complex flavor of the mammoth meat brought back memories of his childhood. Being part of eating a celebratory roast was one of the few happy memories he had from those days.
“Go ahead, Rufus. Eat,” Fist said. “You don’t have to keep turning it.”
The rogue horse smiled and pulled off a hunk, heedless of the way it sizzled in his hand. He stuffed it in his mouth. Meat!
The Big and Little People tribe ate on for several minutes in silence, pulling apart their meal a piece at a time.
Fist began to worry about Maryanne again. The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed that she was still angry with him about their conversation earlier in the day. Surely she knew what he had meant when he said that his bonded were more important than her feelings being hurt.
He bit his lip. Then again, he could also see how she could take offense. Women were so complicated!
“You know what I figure?” Charz said, breaking the silence as he tore another large hunk of meat off of the roast. “Today’s fight was an experiment.”
“What do you mean?” Qenzic asked.
“That lady you guys saw at the Lake. The one the Dark Prophet sent.” Charz said. “I don’t think she was trying all that hard to beat us today. No, I figure she was feeling us out. Seeing what we were capable of.”
“Maybe,” Qenzic agreed, cutting another slice of meat as he talked. “It did seem like she was testing our traps and defenses. From what we saw at the lake, I know she had more dangerous beasts she could have thrown our way.”
“Uh huh!” Rufus agreed, nodding heartily, his mouth full.
Fist dragged his thoughts away from Maryanne and back to the current conversation. “But shouldn’t she know that already? She has sent the dead here many times before.”
“Yeah, but,” Charz paused to swallow. “I figure she wasn’t so worried about us. She’s got conquering Dremaldria to worry about. Why bother focusing on one big ogre tribe just trying to survive?” He shook his head and took another bite. “She was content to keep us at bay. ’Least she was ’till you all went up to the lake and poked her in the tush.”
Locksher nodded, frowning thoughtfully. “You make a sound point, Charz. While we were trying to discover information about the evil, we inadvertently let her know that she had more potent enemies at her flank.”
Lyramoor snorted. “We let her know? You mean you. Of course she’s mad! A wizard poking around in your brain’ll put your back up.”
“Not to mention the arrow Maryanne shot at her,” Qenzic added. “And the lupolds we killed.”
“And the gwatch Rufus fought,” Fist said. “We caught her attention and suddenly, the Thunder People are a threat worth paying attention to.”
Locksher did not like the blame being placed his way. “Now, now. While I will admit that there were some unforeseen consequences, that foray into enemy territory was necessary. We would not have discovered the origination of the evil or the identity of the person controlling it otherwise.”
“Oh?” said Lyramoor. “Did you actually figure out who it is?”
Locksher’s mouth opened and closed a few times before the words came out. “I have narrowed the possibilities down to a short list. Most of them are ancient. Some long assumed dead. But to be an associate of the Dark Prophet and have resources and power like this it really can’t be someone new.”
“You make it sound like that list isn’t so short,” Lyramoor scoffed. “Come on. We’re looking for some old priestess that’s come out of hiding. Are there really that many?”
“The Dark Prophet has been around from the beginning of recorded history. In that long time he has always preferred priestesses to priests,” the wizard said, scratching his head. “There are quite literally a hundred possibilities considering the many ways that the Dark Prophet has used to extend his servants’ lives over the years. That being said, I’ve narrowed it down to priestesses within the last thousand years. No matter the method, a longer lifespan would be quite unlikely since his priestesses are always human.”
“Always?” said Fist. “But isn’t he mostly worshipped by the goblinoids?”
Locksher gave him an appreciative nod. “Good question, Fist. Yes. That is true. However, the Dark Prophet has always been jealous of the Prophet’s stewardship over the Human Race. It gives him particular pleasure to surround himself with fawning members of his enemy’s flock.”
Charz laughed as an idea came to him. “Hey, what do you wanna bet those wizard hunter dogs she sent today were supposed to be coming after Locksher?”
“Ohh. Right!” said Lyramoor. “She sends in a pack of lupolds expecting to get back at the wizard that bit her, only one of ’em gets killed by Rufus!”
“Me!” Rufus agreed happily, banging one fist against his chest.
Charz laughed again. “Oh. Oh! And since she’s an ancient wizardess she’s got to know about rogue horses. So she saw Rufus beat that gwatch thing back at the lake and recognized what he was, so-.” He smacked his hands together. “She assumed that Locksher is Rufus’ bonding wizard!”
“Why on earth would she think that?” Locksher asked.
“Because she never saw me with him,” Fist said, his brow raised. “You were the only one of us to use magic. Even if she had been watching from the eyes of the creatures that attacked, I was staying by you in that cave while everyone else fought the lupolds that day. Then Rufus defeated the gwatch without my help and we left.”
Charz nodded gleefully. “So today, the wolf things see Rufus kill their friend and she sends them after him, thinking they’d find Locksher up there too.”
“And Fist surprised them,” Lyramoor said. He leaned back and took another bite of meat. “An ogre mage wipes out most of her pack. Ho, that must’ve roasted her!”
Fist swallowed. If Locksher was right, then those lupids were her pets. “So the next time her army comes, it shouldn’t be so easy.”
“Nope!” said the giant with an eager grin. “She learned a lot from us today. Next time she’ll be taking us seriously.”
“What’re you greasy-faced monsters talking about?” Maryanne asked, walking into the firelight.
“We figure the lady at the Black Lake was just testing us today,” Lyramoor replied.
She walked up to the surprisingly diminished roast and cut herself a healthy slice. “I’d have to agree with you there. After those lupolds died, the rest of the fight seemed pretty tame.” She tore into the meat and nodded appreciatively. “What kind of animal is this?”
“Mammoth,” Charz said.
“Huh,” she said and shoved the rest of it into her mouth.
Fist eyed her suspiciously. Maryanne didn’t look angry, but he couldn’t always tell by how she looked. “Where have you been?”
The gnome held up a finger, her cheeks bulging as she chewed. She cut off another piece as she swallowed. “I had an errand. Actually, Fist. I could use your help. Could you come with me for a minute?”
“Uh, okay,” he replied. “You sure you don’t want to eat a bit more first?”
“Naw, I already had a bite. Not as good as this, though,” she said and shoved the piece into her mouth before grabbing his hand and pulling him away from the fire.
“I guess I’m going now, then,” Fist said.
“Too bad! We’re not gonna save you any!” Charz shouted after them.
Maryanne led him past multiple campfires of celebrating ogres. Several of them called out to Fist and he waved back, but she didn’t stop for him to talk. Fist became concerned she was taking him somewhere away from the others where she could yell at him properly.
He cleared his throat. “Maryanne . . . I’m sorry about what I said earlier.”
“Huh? When?” she asked, frowning at him.
“When you were mad that I didn’t wait for you,” he said. “You know. About my priorities?”
“Oh that,” she said, shaking her head. “Well, I understand. I am bonded too, remember?”
The way she was responding was even more puzzling. “But . . . I want you to know that I think of you as more than just another member of my tribe.”
She smiled. “Is that so?”
“And if it was you that was in trouble, I would have run to you even if everyone else didn’t know where I was going,” he said.
“How sweet,” she said, coming to a stop near the cliff face. “But you might want to think that through a little better. If someone’s in trouble, it’s best to tell people where you’re running off to.”
“Yes. But what I’m trying to say is-.”
She placed a finger on his lips. “I know exactly what you are trying to say.”
Fist looked around. The sounds of celebration were even louder here. Laughing ogres walked in and out of a series of well-lit caves in the cliff face. “These are the women’s caves.”
“I know,” Maryanne replied, still smiling. “I had to set this up with Momma Zung. That’s why I was gone so long.” She shook her head. “That ogress is not a good cook.”
She led Fist up a short trail to one of the larger caves.
Fist balked. “Wait. Why did you have to talk to Momma Zung?”
Momma Zung was the ogress in charge of all the females in the tribe. She decided which one of them could mate and when. She was probably the second most influential person in the tribe after Crag himself.
“You’ll see,” she said and tugged him towards the cave.
He pulled his hand out of hers. “I don’t want any of the Thunder People females.”
Maryanne blinked at him for a moment, then laughed. “I’m not bringing you here to mate with some ogress, you goblin brain!” She frowned briefly and slapped him on the arm. “Why would I want you to do that? Just follow me.”
Confused, Fist let her pull him inside. She led him through a dark tunnel and into an open chamber. Two light orbs that she had borrowed from Wizard Locksher lit the chamber with a soft glow. He could hear the sound of water trickling and saw that a rivulet of water entered the chamber from a hole in the wall and ran across the floor into a pool that had been carved out of the floor of the cave.
“Surprise!” Maryanne said with a smile. “I thought you could use a bath. There’s nothing quite as good after a long battle.”
