Raveler: The Dark God Book 3 by John D. Brown Page A

He presented her with the wurm’s egg. A number of the woodikin chirped at the sight of it. Then she turned to Talen and the others. “We finally meet, Strange Trader. The trees favor those who love them.”
    Talen was surprised, not only to hear her speak Mokaddian, but that she spoke it so clearly. She had an accent, but he’d heard Mokaddian uplanders that were harder to understand than she.
    “We cannot love like those who dance in their boughs, but we respect,” said Harnock.
    “Maybe,” said the queen. “But maybe you still deserve death.”
    Harnock did not reply.
    “What did you and these other skinmen do to anger the Orange Slayers?”
    One of the woodikin females spoke in low tones to the others on the platform. Talen suspected she was translating for the other woodikin.
    Harnock did not look up, but spoke to the floor in front of his face. “I did nothing, Great Mother. The Orange Slayers are excrement eaters and do not honor their obligations.”
    “Some would argue woodikin are fools to bind themselves to skinmen. Honor is not in a skinman’s nature. We might as well bind ourselves to toads.”
    “I am not so wise as to be able to argue with a Great Mother,” said Harnock, still looking down.
    “True,” she said. “And who are these with you?”
    “A wife, Great One,” said Harnock. “And her brother.”
    “Just a brother?”
    “Nothing more,” said Harnock.
    “And that is how easily skinmen lie,” said the queen. “The Orange Slayers seek him for their masters.”
    Talen swallowed.
    From the side of his eye, Harnock glanced over at Talen. He paused, made some decision, and addressed the floor in front of him again. “I ask you Great Mother to look at him. He’s a sack of skin and bones. A skinman child. If the Orange Slayers said they want him, I believe they did it to mislead you.”
    “And why would they do that, Strange Trader.”
    Harnock’s face turned bitter. He glanced over at Talen. “To hide the true thing they value.”
    “And what is that?”
    “Me,” Harnock lied.
    “You?”
    “What do they offer?” asked Harnock. “I’m sure I can pay you more.”
    “Why do they want you?”
    “Because they fear me,” said Harnock.
    “And yet you run from them. Besides, you are an Orange Slayer friend. Why should they fear a friend?”
    “There is a war among the skinmen, Great One. Me and mine fight against Mokad. Against those who raised your Orange Face enemies to power. The woodikin do not want me. Their masters do. Have your spies look. They will see Mokaddian warriors in your lands. They will see a Divine who uses two crows for eyes.”
    “No Divine is supposed to come into our lands. That is the land agreement.”
    “Nevertheless, he is there. You will see. You will see his crows. Help us, and we can strike a blow against your enemies.”
    The queen thought. “Or I can give you to them to show our goodwill. I can make an ally.”
    “Mokad does not make allies,” said Harnock. “Mokad only makes slaves. Just as it has made a slave of the Great Mother of the Orange Slayers.”
    The translator finished Harnock’s words. Murmurs rose among the woodikin on the platform. The queen hooted once and silenced them.
    Harnock said, “The Great Mother of the Orange Slayers wears a collar made by skinmen. The skinmen of Mokad use this to bind the wearer to its master. But not with the obligations of the woodikin. It binds the wearer against her will. Turns her traitor to all but the collar’s will.”
    The queen considered Harnock for a moment. She said, “I have seen this collar you speak of. It gives the Orange Face Mother great power. But I have seen no master.”
    “Do you think those who slaughtered your ancestors would give great power without a great price?”
    The translator finished Harnock’s statement and the platform fell silent. In the distance, woodikin chattered and howled.
    “Great Mother, what is their offer? I’ll give you more.”
    She ignored him