Chapter 290: Mynasha
In Orcish, I replied, “You don’t look that special either. What makes you think you can become the Supreme Cleric?” Mynasha winced, realizing I could understand her, but recovered immediately.
Glasha cackled a soft laugh at Mynasha’s surprise. “I have been teaching the Telhian our language. He is actually a remarkably quick learner.” She winked at Mateo. “The others are quick at other things. The elf already speaks our language passably.”
Cleric Mynasha settled back in her chair, appraising us one at a time with fresh eyes. Mateo slouched in his chair, and Benito just looked confused since he couldn’t understand anything. Blaze had retired for the evening, thinking the cleric wouldn’t show tonight—he would owe Benito a large copper in the morning. Raelia had a shadow of distrust on her face.
Mynasha straightened, a confidence radiating from her. “I am the most powerful cleric of my generation,” she said, her voice edged with pride. “But unlike the others who covet the title of Supreme for prestige and influence, I care about the people—their safety, their future.” Her words rang with genuine conviction.
Glasha hissed through her teeth, “I’ve told you time and again—it’s about more than power and conviction, girl. You have to win over the Elders, and most of them already have their favorites.” She gestured toward me with a sharp tilt of her head. “This one can serve as your First and accompany you to the Choosing. I’ve watched him closely—he’s more than capable. Maybe even more so than the warlords backing the other candidates.”
“He is not a warlord; they wouldn’t allow him at the Choosing,” Mynasha said doubtfully.
Glasha waved her off and said, “There is precedent in the past. An elf served as Cleric Jurasha’s First, and Cleric Fernasha brought a human twenty years ago.”
Mynasha searched her memory. “And neither of them claimed the Supreme’s seat,” Mynasha countered astutely.
A lot was being said that I didn’t fully understand—some of it likely slipping through the cracks of translation. “Could we speak Telhian,” I asked, “so my companions can follow the conversation?”
Glasha smirked. “Mynasha doesn’t know Telhian,” she said, clearly amused.
Mynasha shot her a glare and replied in Telhian, “If I don’t know it, that’s your failure as a teacher. I know enough of our enemy’s tongue to speak with them on the battlefield.”
Her pronunciation was clumsy, the words slurred awkwardly around her tusks, but still understandable. “You still have not explained enough of what this task entails. It seems it is a lot more than just escorting her to the selection of a new Supreme.”
I directed my statement at Glasha, as Mynasha appeared to be far younger and a babe at delving into the political arena. So far, she was coming off as overconfident and brash. I already knew she was powerful, since she had been on the lead warship that invaded the Empire.
“Not here,” Glasha said, standing and looking at the curious adventurers at the other tables. “We can discuss it in one of your rooms.”
We all ended up crammed into Maveith’s room minutes later. He had the largest room and enough seating with his oversized bed to hold everyone. Blaze, blurry-eyed from being woken, joined us.
Glasha and Mynasha shared a bench against the wall. Two chairs and Maveith’s bed seated my troupe, who faced them. It was Glasha who explained everything to us in Telhian. “The Supreme went missing during the reclamation of lands from the Telhian Empire. His enemies thought the expedition’s success would give him too much power with the people.”
“I don’t understand. A victory was a threat?” I said, confused but interested.
“Although the Caliphate looks unified, it is not, much like many other nations.” Glasha took a deep breath. “Among the clerics, there are always those who want more power and control. The warlords always want to rule larger cities and have more prominent slaves to display their prowess, by their very nature.”
She held up three fingers. “The Boutan Caliphate consists of three orc clans. The Boutan orcs, the Shagar orcs, and the Molnemoac orcs. The Molnemoac orcs were once a powerful nation before the Telhian Empire took their lands and forced them into exile in the Caliphate. Over centuries, they integrated into our society but always longed to reclaim their lost lands. When the Supreme’s expedition succeeded, everyone knew the Molnemoac orcs would be beholden to him, shifting the power among the Caliphate clerics. Others did not want to see that happen, so an…accident was arranged. But that does not leave this room.”
Glasha was being very forward with the problems of the Caliphate to earn our trust. Much more than I expected. I would not have trusted strangers with such inner political turmoil after just two weeks in their company. She probably didn’t realize Benito and Mateo had trouble with secrets.
“What about the Shagar orcs?” Blaze asked. He sounded tired but was leaning forward, interested in the discourse.
Glasha nodded and explained in a scholarly tone, “I am descended from the Shagar. The Shagar orcs were conquered by the Boutan orcs some two thousand years ago. At first, they were an enslaved people, but Supreme Lazgasha declared slavery of one orc over another orc to be forbidden. Only those of other races can be subjugated and forced to serve the warlords now. The Shagar are now mostly farmers, ranchers, and craftsmen with a few becoming Pathfinders, elites, or warlords.”
I noticed the veins and muscles in Maveith’s arms bulge as he clenched his fists in anger. He was smart enough not to yell, but talking so casually about slavery had made him angry.
I was surprised that Raelia had stayed quiet during this interview. But I wasn’t sure if we were interviewing Mynasha or if she was interviewing us. Raelia asked a little brusquely, “You still have not revealed why you need us and what the danger is.”
The two orcs looked at each other. I was not surprised that Glasha was the one who continued to explain. She was a historian and a diplomat. She also kept her emotions in check much better than Mynasha. I would call her mature if not for the mischievousness underlying her subterfuge with Mateo. “Mynasha needs an escort to the Choosing. While no one would dishonor themselves by trying to kill her, I expect they would delay her and prevent her from participating.”
“Once the Choosing starts, a candidate can have one First at her side. The Elders will issue challenges to narrow down the candidates. Mynasha can only be assisted by her First during the challenges. Then, if she is chosen to be the Supreme, she still needs to complete the Warlord Dungeon. This is usually just a formality, as the First would be a warlord and would have already completed it.”
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“I thought thethirteenth dungeon was a solo dungeon?” I interjected.
“No. It is called The Demonic Lair and up to four can enter. A warlord is supposed to defeat the four lairs inside alone, but that has changed with time. Now they just need to defeat two of the lairs. The Supreme limits the access of those who wish to challenge the dungeon to become a warlord, lead the orcs, and own others. If the Supreme favors a warlord, he will allow companions to enter with the warlord challenger.” Glasha finished talking and reclined against the wall on the bench.
Mynasha appeared nervous. Either because of the information Glasha was telling us or because she was worried I would say no.
“If there is no Supreme, who controls access to the dungeon now?” I asked.
“The Elders,” Mynasha spat angrily as she interjected. “They are some of the eldest of the clerics of the Caliphate, but also some of the weakest in power.”
Glasha hissed at her companion, “Don’t speak such foolishness aloud.” With a little sarcasm and snark, she added, “They were chosen for their wisdom and judiciousness.”
I did not know if Mynasha would be a good leader for her people. But I was not invested in her people. Glasha, on the other hand, could use what she knew about our goals against us, but having gotten to know her over two weeks, I did not think she would. I stated pointedly, “I don’t see the benefit in it for us.”
Mynasha fidgeted, her face clouding in frustration. “You wasted my time summoning me here. I should have been riding to Warlord Dekish’s estate,” Mynasha said, with an Orcish curse attached.
“The old bull would have you bedding his son or himself in return for his support. And he is no longer the warrior he once was. He probably has trouble getting his sword up these days,” Glasha said contemptuously.
Glasha’s harsh assessment of Mynasha’s prospects caused a silence. “It is nice to know that orc politics do not differ much from elven or human,” Raelia said unexpectedly. “Where and when is the Choosing?”
Mynasha leaned forward, studying the small elf woman as if truly seeing her for the first time. There was a spark of hope on her face. When she spoke, her voice carried a conciliatory tone. Her gaze flicked between Raelia and me, searching for an ally or perhaps influence. Did she believe Raelia could sway my decision?
“The Supreme’s estate lies in the northernmost district of Becar,” she said, her tone pressing. “Twelve days from now. All the warlords and clerics of consequence will be there.”
“The Warlord Rhuuk of Agurtra will be there?” Maveith asked vehemently, after being quiet for the conversation.
“Agurtra is not far from the capital, so yes, he is likely to be there with his entourage—and some of his slaves. He might even be serving as a First for one of the candidates,” Glasha said shrewdly. Mateo had likely revealed the warlord we sought. He didn’t make eye contact with me when I looked at him.
“It is 350 miles to Becar,” Raelia said, thinking aloud. “That is thirty miles a day to get there before they select a new Supreme.” I was confused as to why Raelia seemed to be siding with the orcs.
“I know. I was sixty miles closer, two days ago,” Mynasha said, looking at Glasha with annoyance.
“It is manageable. I have done more, and I can heal us and the horses. It is also on the main trade road the entire way and closer to 320 miles. Doing forty miles a day or more on the road will not be difficult,” Glasha said with her tusky smile.
Satisfied that we had heard enough, I said firmly, “I’ll speak with my companions—alone.”
I gestured for the orcs to leave. They exchanged a glance, then walked out the door. I had no doubt Glasha would be eavesdropping through whatever spell form she had. I scanned the room, waiting for feedback. Blaze was the first to speak. “It puts us in the right direction, and we’ll be traveling with two Caliphate clerics. Riding hard with them will make us look less suspicious.”
Mateo chimed in from his spot, sprawled across Maveith’s bed. “I think we can trust Glasha,” he said softly, eyes fixed on the ceiling. I rolled my eyes at Mateo, but he didn’t see it.
“I think Glasha has addled his brain with magic,” Raelia said good-humoredly.
“Does that hurt?” Benito asked Mateo seriously, not realizing Raelia was jesting. We didn’t need this conversation to hinge on Mateo’s sexual exploits.
“What about Mynasha? Impressions?” I asked, turning back to discussing the job.
“I don’t think we should get involved in orc politics. Let’s use them to reach the capital and then go our own way,” Blaze suggested. It made sense, but if we were escorting them there, I doubted we would be free of them so easily. Especially since I appeared to be Mynasha’s only hope.
“If she can free Zorana, I say we do it. I can serve as her First for this Choosing,” Maveith stated, adamantly in favor of accepting the job. I don’t think Glasha had the goliath in mind to stand with Mynasha, but I wouldn’t tell him that at the moment.
“Raelia? Benito?” I prompted them for feedback.
Benito had been paying attention and was slightly surprised I was asking for his input. He appeared deep in thought. “If it gets us closer to Maveith’s sister, we should do it,” he stated simply.
“I don’t trust clerics,” Raelia said thoughtfully. I guess I was just bad at reading women, because I thought she favored taking the job and helping the clerics. “But I do like Glasha,” she said, surprising me again. “It might be good to have a cleric or two owe you favors in the future.”
In the end, this was my decision. All eyes looked to me to make the final call. With the weight of leadership on my shoulders, I announced, “Fine. We will escort the clerics to the capital.”
It was early morning, but I decided we should leave immediately. The Caliphate had no portals, and time was tight to get the cleric to the Choosing. I also wanted to keep anyone off-balance who might try to stop us from getting Mynasha there. “Saddle the horses; we will ride out of the gates before sunrise.” My companions didn’t question me and went to pack their things in their rooms.
I found the two orc clerics in the hallway, waiting for our decision. “We will escort you to Becar, but we are not committed to helping you in your bid to become the Supreme. One hundred gold for the job.” I announced our fee, thinking it was slightly unreasonable for a 320-mile escort, but I figured they would pay it.
“That is not acceptable!” Mynasha started, but Glasha stopped her, putting her arm on her shoulder.
“It’s fine, I will pay. Mynasha doesn’t have the means,” she said, explaining Mynasha’s outrage. “I’m sure once you get to know how charming Mynasha is during the trip, you’ll help her in the Choosing.” Humor colored her words, but I was not going to be swayed easily like Mateo.
I was already packed and walked outside with the clerics to find a massive, smoky-colored mount. Mynasha’s horse almost matched Maveith’s in size. She hadn’t even unsaddled it when she had arrived some two hours ago, leaving it tied outside the Adventurers Hall without access to water.
As Mynasha approached, the dark-gray stallion snapped its head and bit her shoulder, knocking her to the ground. They clearly did not have a friendly relationship after the mount had been pushed to get here. Mynasha held in a yelp of pain as she got up to strike the mount, but I seized her hand. Her pale-gray eyes burned as she looked at me, not knowing how to react.
I took the reins from her other hand. “You abused this mount getting here, and I can see the saddle sores. We can spare a few minutes to rub him down and have Glasha heal the injuries.” Mynasha narrowed her eyes at me but relented, stepping away. I rubbed the neck of the horse and snuck an apple into my hand. I led it to a fresh trough of water, and while it drank greedily, I unsaddled it. As I rubbed the mount down, the others exited the Hall and went to the stables to prepare our horses.
Mynasha’s mount wasn’t a warhorse, but he was a fine young riding horse with a strong personality. After I rubbed out his coat, Glasha healed the saddle wounds, and he calmed down. I checked his hooves and shoes before saddling him again. Now hydrated and chewing happily on a second apple, he was ready to go and became friendlier toward Mynasha.
Mynasha had stood back and watched me work the entire time, judging me in some way. Benito walked Ginger to me and handed me her reins. After an apple tax, I was in my saddle. The dim light of the streetlamps was all that lit our way as one pony and seven horses’ hooves clattered on the stone pavers, taking my growing party toward the northern gate.
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