could his minions ever gain true freedom and self-determination.
And even if he did manage greater conquests with his orc minions, even if he widened the scope of the Kingdom of Many-Arrows, the lessons of history had taught him definitively that the center of such a kingdom could never hold. His reach was long, his grip iron strong. Long and strong enough to hold the perimeters of the Kingdom of Many-Arrows? Long and strong enough to fend off Grguch and any potential conspirators who had coaxed the fierce chieftain to the surface?
Obould clenched his fist mightily as that last question filtered through his mind, and he issued a long and low growl then licked his lips as if tasting the blood of his enemies.
Were Clan Karuck even his enemies?
The question sobered him. He was getting ahead of the facts, he realized. A ferocious and aggressive orc clan had arrived in Many-Arrows, and had taken up the fight independently, as orc clans often did, and with great and glorious effect.
Obould nodded as he considered the truth of it and realized the limits of his conjecture. In his heart, though, he knew that a rival had come, and a very dangerous one at that.
Reflexively, the orc king looked to the southwest, the direction of General Dukka and his most reliable fighting force. He would need another courier, he realized immediately. As Oktule went to summon Grguch, as Nukkels traveled to King Bruenor's Court with word of truce, so he would need a third, the fastest of the three, to go and retrieve Dukka and the warriors. For the dwarves might soon counterattack, and likely would be joined by the dangerous and outraged Moonwood elves.
Or more likely, Clan Karuck would need to be taught a lesson.
PART 3 Chapter 20 ON SQUIGGLES AND EMISSARIES
With but one hand, for the chieftain was no minor warrior, Dnark pushed Oktule to the side and stepped past him to the edge of a mountain-view precipice overlooking King Obould's encampment. A group of riders exited that camp, moving swiftly to the south, and without the banner of Many-Arrows flying from their midst.
"War pigs, and armored," the shaman Ung-thol remarked. "Elite warriors. Obould's own."
Dnark pointed to a rider in the middle of the pack, and though they were far away and moving farther, his headdress could still be seen.
"The priest, Nukkels," Ung-thol said with a nod.
"What does this mean?" Oktule asked, his tone concurring with his body posture to relate his discomfort. Young Oktule had been chosen as a courier from the east because of his speed and stamina, but he had not the experience or the wisdom to fathom all that was going on around him.
The chieftain and his shaman turned as one to regard the orc. "It means that you should tell Grguch to proceed with all caution," Dnark said.
"I do not understand."
"King Obould might not welcome him with the warmth promised in the invitation," Dnark explained.
"Or might greet him with more warmth than promised," Ungthol quipped.
Oktule stared at them, his jaw hanging open. "King Obould is angry?"
That brought a laugh from the two older and more worldly orcs.
"You know Toogwik Tuk?" Ung-thol asked.
Oktule nodded. "The preacher orc. His words showed me to the glory of Grguch. He proclaimed the power of Chieftain Grguch and the call of Gruumsh to bring war to the dwarves."
Dnark chuckled and patted the air with his hand, trying to calm the fool. "Deliver your words to Chieftain Grguch as your king demanded," he said. "But seek out Toogwik Tuk first and inform him that a second courier went out from Obould's" - then he quickly corrected himself - "King Obould's camp, this one riding to the south."
"What does it mean?" Oktule asked again.
"It means that King Obould expects trouble," Ung-thol interrupted, stopping Dnark before he could respond. "Toogwik Tuk will know what to do."
"Trouble?" asked Oktule.
"The dwarves will likely counterattack, and more furious will they become when they learn that both King Obould and Chieftain Grguch are in the same place."
Oktule began to nod stupidly, catching on.
"Be off at once," Dnark told him, and the young orc spun on his heel and rushed away. A signal from Dnark sent a couple of guards off with him, to escort him on his important journey.
As soon as they were gone, the chieftain and the shaman turned back to the distant riders.
"Do you really believe that Obould would send an emissary to the Battlehammer dwarves?" Ung-thol asked. "Has he become so cowardly as that?"
Dnark nodded through