Orc Dominion: Rebellion

Author's Note: Sorry about the long delay in getting this chapter out. I was having a lot of difficulty finding the time to write due to changes in my personal life. Then I was working on a side project, which I will speak more about later. For now, I've found a way to make the time to write again. With a big of luck, I'll be able to resume pushing out one chapter a week again. Keep your fingers crossed! As always, please vote for the story and provide feedback so I know how I am doing. Have fun!

****

"We need to talk about where we're after again!"

"We already agreed!"

"You agreed, not me!"

Voices shouted ever each other, each one trying to be louder than the next. It was like this almost every night since they had left Shropfordshire. Some wanted the orcs driven from the land, some wanted all the orcs sent to the Duchy of Braden. A vocal few thought the whole idea of a queen was a mistake, and that they should put the Duke of Haverset or the Duke of Swetford on the throne.

"Just let them all go? After what they've done? We should kill them all!" Cindy's shrill voice cut through the crowd, but was quickly drowned out again as fresh protests and opinions were hurled carelessly at the assembly. The Duke of Swetford and the Duke of Haverset stood off to one side, looking uncomfortable at the unctuous and unruly debate.

If we're going to save ourselves from the orcs, we need them to take control and show real leadership, she thought. They had tried to steer the crowd, talking about hope and change and new leadership, but they were not being forceful enough to really make a difference. None of them seemed to understand that the orcs were wicked, evil creatures that must be exterminated. As long as they were alive, they would be a threat to the human lands. Send them to Braden and they would eat away at Heste while growing into a mighty horde. Send them back to the Angrian March and they return to raiding, worse than ever before now that they had a taste of civilization.

Orcs were foul beasts, rapists and murders and they all needed to be killed! She'd been trying to get His Grace the Duke of Swetford to see by using every trick she'd learned. She thought he was slowly coming around.

"Please, please, listen to me please!" Swetford cried out shrilly, trying to get the attention of the crowd. "The problem stems from the Queen. Her whole reign is corrupt. She must be removed from the throne and a regent put in place. Then we can start heal the wounds we've all suffered. What we do with the orcs can be settled once a proper, human government is reestablished in Ruar."

The meeting quieted down after that, as it always did. Tonight they would be agreed on marching towards Ruar to depose the queen, but tomorrow they would be back to shouting over each other, each with their own idea on what was to be done. After the meeting was concluded, Cindy made her way to Swetford's tent.

Cindy hid the revulsion she felt as she looked at the Duke's corpulent body. She plastered on her professional smile and pressed her warm body against him, kissing him softly on the lips as her hands stroked up his arms. "You were brilliant tonight, Your Grace. I think you're really starting to get through to them, to make them see how wise and necessary it is to install a reagent first, before settling all those other issues."

Swetford smiled and slid his hands down Cindy's back to cup her round buttocks, lifting and squeezing the fleshy cheeks in his palms. "Thank you, my dear. It isn't easy work, as you know. But we will get there in the end. They just need someone to lead them, step by step, to the correct decision. They want to be told what to think, what to do. It's in their nature to listen to the nobility, and to look to us for guidance."

Not us, she thought. You count me as one of the sheep. But where a sheep runs, the shepherd must follow. Cindy kissed and nibbled on the Duke's neck as her hand stroked down to cup his manhood through his breeches. Her slender fingers squeezed the bulge, stroking it slowly as she whispered into the Duke's ear.

"Brilliant, Your Grace. When you're the regent you'll a strong, firm hand on the people." Cindy rubbed the swelling shaft to emphasize her point as she nibbled Swetford's earlobe. The Duke gripped the fabric of Cindy's dress and started bunching it up between his fingers. He groaned softly as Cindy's hand worked his shaft and her hot breath washed against neck and ear. "You'll do what needs to be done. You'll scour the lands clean of the orcs, won't you?"

"Ah, oooh!" Swetford grunted in pleasure as his fingers slide beneath the skirt to stroke Cindy's bare ass. He turned her, and pressed his lips hungrily into the woman's mouth. The Duke guided her over to the desk that had been set up in his tent and pushed her against it. Leaving the skirt bunched up over her waist, his hands moved to grope at her breasts, rubbing the nipples and kneading the fleshy mounds in his hands.

Cindy's deft fingers worked to unlace his pants and free the Duke's shaft. She stroked it directly now, running her fingertips up and down along the veins as she rolled her wrist. She jerked his cock, letting the head of the shaft slide up and down against her inner thigh as she nipped at his lower lip, suckling it as he pawed at her tits.

"Mmm...that's it Your Grace...put it in me...fuck me as hard as you're going to fuck the orcs when your regent..." Cindy guided the end of Swetford's shaft higher up between her legs, until it pressed against her labia. Her other hand reached down, spreading apart her nether lips to open herself up for the Duke's cock.

Swetford obliged her, and with another low groan he thrust his hips forward, sinking himself deep into Cindy. He started to pump his hips rapidly, thrusting in and out in quick successive thrusts. He continued to claw at her breast with one hand, while the other gripped her hip, pulling her forward into each one of his thrusts.

Cindy released a well rehearsed moan as she tilted her head back and clung to the Duke's biceps. She squeezed her pussy around his cock as she rolled her hips forward. "Oooh...that's it...fuck me Regent...keep giving me your big cock!"

Swetford's hand closed tighter around Cindy's breast, so tight it would probably leave a bruise. He choked and grunted as he spent himself inside her, pumping rope after rope of his seed deep into her vaginal canal. He continued to thrust his hips, trying to prolong the pleasure as Cindy kept him crested atop the climax by squeezing and releasing his dick, milking it in her hot wet folds. When he unleashed the last of his load he fell forward and rested his hand beside Cindy on the desk, panting to catch his breath.

"Ah...that...that feels good Cindy. I'm lucky to have such a smart, talented woman marching with us. You'll go far, my dear, I'm sure of it."

Cindy stroked through the Duke's hair as she idly stroked his back with her other hand. "Oh I don't need to go all that far Your Grace. Just back to Ruar. Once we're there we can put you in power and you can deal with all the problems eating away at the Kingdom."

"Yes, well, there is a great deal of work to do. The orcs have been corrupting the capital for almost a decade. It will not be easy to root them out, and it won't happen overnight."

"Mmm..." Cindy moaned and pressed her lips against the Duke's again. Her hand stroked down his back, and then slid around to his front, taking his wet, shrunken cock into her hand. She squeezed it gently, and began to stroke it as she pushed off the desk, guiding him towards the cot. His little shaft began to grow again, swelling in her fist as she jerked it up and down.

"I know Your Grace, I know. Even still, a man with your power, with your ability...you'll be as good as a king. You'll be able to do anything you want." Cindy smiled emptily down at the Duke as he lay down on the cot. She climbed atop him again, and guided his dick back inside her. Her hot, wet, folds enveloped his dick, and stroked it up and down rapidly as she bounced atop him.

Cindy's heart leapt with excitement; not from the fat nobleman between her legs, but from the anticipation of the coming scourge of orcs. There was no army between them and the capital. No one to stop them from cleansing the court clean of the barbarous orcs, and after that, they could descend on the orc settlers in the kingdom and annihilate them as well. They would finally get what was coming to them!

Swetford grunted as Cindy grinded around his cock and rubbed it against her inner walls. She was quite a skilled lover, a real find amidst the rabble of the mob. Cindy certainly took the edge off the long, cold nights sleeping in a tent and living off of salted beef, water, and whatever else could be carried with them. The Duke moaned again as Cindy's voluptuous tits bounced above him, and he couldn't help but give them a squeeze.

"Oh fuck yes, that's right my dear, as...as regent I'll be as good as a king. I'll, oh, ah, I'll restore justice to the court. I will punish those who need it, and reward those who deserve it!" Swetford's voice raised to a higher pitch as Cindy's quim squeezed the tip of his cock, sending a shudder of pleasure up his spine. "And I think you deserve a big reward!"

Cindy suppressed a grunt of disgust as she felt him explode inside her again. He seemed well pleased with her performance though, and that was what mattered. She would slowly bring him around, work on him and all the others in their army until they understood that the only way to deal with orcs is to kill them all.

After the Duke fell asleep, Cindy drank her bitter tea and returned to her own sleeping mat. Many women in her position wouldn't bother. They would try to get pregnant, to get support from a powerful lord. But Cindy wasn't after wealth or material comfort. That's probably at least part of what attracts him, she mused. He knows there is something different about me, he just doesn't see that I want to lead him about by his cock, not take all his money.

Cindy was awoken early the next morning by the sound of excitement rippling through the camp. She quickly stirred and grabbed the nearest person who seemed to know what's going on. "What is it? What's happened?"

"It's the Queen! The Queen herself! She's ridden out to meet with us! She's really going to listen to what we have to say!"

Cindy released the man. The Queen was here? Did she really want to listen to them? No, there's no way that the orc fucking slut of a queen would listen to them. She's had their babies! The Queen throw them out? Impossible!

Cindy hurried to the spot where the army was gathering to meet with the Queen. The Dukes of Swetford and Haverset were already dressed and waiting for her. She shot Swetford a look of annoyance that he didn't send for her, but he was too busy looking at the young Queen to notice. Cindy couldn't hear what they were discussing, so she pushed closer, fighting her way through the crowd. When she broke through, she saw a profile of the Queen sitting atop her horse, with her gold crown nestled atop the flowing raven locks of hair. Seated next to her was a large orc bodyguard, and as she saw the pair a ripping pain shot through her head. She looked so...she had seen her...the Queen...Jeanette...Queen Jeanette. It couldn't be!

****

Although Jeanette was surrounded on all sides by a mob angry enough to march from Shropfordshire to Ruar, she wasn't worried. While they might not be the people of the city of her birth, they were still her subjects. She wasn't afraid of Frederick either. They had been through too much together for him to ever completely betray her. She could understand where a reasonable person might disagree with the direction she had taken Zentara, but there is no way that his objection would be so severe that he'd mean her actual harm.

The only one who gave her pause was Thomas, the Duke of Swetford. He had supported her father's policy of closer ties with Heste, and her marriage to the late Duke of Braden directly. He was an ambitious man, and during her father's reign he had sought to curry favor with Sir Drake in order to gain influence at court. He had left court after she came to power, but somehow she didn't think he had given up his ambitions through all these long years.

Thomas and Frederick had rode out to meet her on horseback, and both were wearing leather breastplates with chain tunics. Frederick still cut an impressive figure in his armor; Thomas was far more comical. Never a military man, the corpulent Duke's armor bulge and curved outward, looking like something out of a farce. His talents were political, not military. She had no doubt that this whole mob was on the move due to his work, not Frederick's.

While she may not have looked as martial as Frederick, she was sure she looked a deal more impressive than Thomas. Wearing her breastplate and leather breeches, and with Peace Bringer hilted on her side, she sat atop a white stallion, allowing the whole force to see her in her glory. Her long black hair hung freely behind her, whipping about the gold crown atop her head when the wind blew strongly. The sun beat down, causing its light to reflect off her crown and armor, creating a dazzling display from a distance.

Jeanette looked to her sides and gave the men and women of the crowd a pleasant smile, the kind that made each of them think it was meant just for them. Finally, she turned and looked to Frederick, meeting his gaze straight on. "Your Grace, I never thought I'd live to see the day that we met under arms like this. It grieves me to think of how frayed our relationship has truly become."

She could feel the eyes of the crowd turn to Frederick and Thomas, deferring to the Dukes to relay their grievances. Despite her earlier assurance that she had nothing to fear from them, she still considered it something of a minor miracle that they were so calm and quiet.

"A great many things grieve me, Your Highness. The state of the Kingdom most of all, when your father was alive-"

"When my father was alive he would have sold us to Heste. A fact which I am surprised has slipped past you, considering I see the Duke of Swetford there with you. He was all for that 'alliance' I recall. You, on the other hand, Your Grace, were a strong supporter of my orc alliance when I first ascended the throne. You fought alongside with me, with my husband, and all the other orcs all through the war." Jeanette raised the pitch of her voice as she said the last part, projecting her words farther so that more of the crowd could hear them. A murmur of unease swept through them, and they looked uncertainly towards the Duke of Haverset.

"That is true, Your Highness. I was always your biggest supporter. Or I was, until you sold out your people to the orcs. I warned you to be careful! I warned you back then, not to get in too deep but you didn't listen. You let them in, and look what they did! To you, to Susannah! She was your friend!"

"She still is my friend, Your Grace. As I understand it, she's had more contact with me these past eight years than she has had with you. I know you don't like the way she's been treated, but she has not complained and neither should you." Jeanette's voice wavered momentarily, but she caught hold of it. Perhaps she had not been the most attentive friend she should have been to Susannah. Her letters had assured her that all was well, but reports trickling in from Braden suggested things had been left unattended for far too long.

Swetford's voice broke in. "This is about more than friends and daughters, Your Highness. Your orcs have been rampaging through your Kingdom while you lounge about your palace with your orc lover. Girls are being raped, women kidnapped into slavery, farms burned. The good, decent men and women of your kingdom suffer while the orcs grow fat and rich off their misery!"

The tenor of the mob grew tense, and angry murmurs of agreement rippled through them. The severity of Swetford's attack surprised her. He was making this very personal, attacking her and not just her policies. And with such falsehoods too! Slavery? Arson? There had been nothing of the sort happening in Zentara. Where was he getting this from?

"What? That's-"

"You don't even know what's going on in your own Kingdom! You're so deep under their spell that you cannot see what they're doing!" Swetford's words carried with the crowd, who started to get angrier.

Jeanette was getting angrier to, clenching her fists in rage. He was just making things up! Flat out lying! "Enough! You may peddle your lies to these fine folk, but do not waste them on me." Jeanette looked out to the crowd, scanning their faces. "Who among you is worse off than you were before the orcs came? None of you look to be starving. Indeed, you've all managed to find the time to leave your homes and jobs to march all the way to Ruar to come see me. Our alliance with Turogg and the orcs has brought great prosperity to Zentara."

"It's brought great prosperity to the orcs you mean!" Swetford cut in.

"To everyone! Zentara is in a golden age! Birth rates are up! Crop yields are larger, more gold is flowing. Everyone has benefited! These stories you are being told are lies. How many orcs have you really seen in Shropfordshire? Who among you personally knows someone who has been kidnapped? Who knows someone who knows someone whose house has been burned?" Jeanette looked out among the crowd, who were listening attentively. "Do not be swayed by the lies of ambitious who care more for their own influence and wealth then the well being of their people. Do not be swa-"

Jeanette's words died in her throat as a vaguely familiar woman broke through the crowd, metal glinting in her hand. The Queen's own hand fell instinctively to the hilt of her sword, and as the auburn haired woman raised her dagger Jeanette's sword leapt from its scabbard. Panic ripped through her as she swung wildly down, all of the practiced, measured strokes from her training forgotten. Crimson flashed, and the woman fell back with a cry. She collapsed on the ground, her fall ringing like the toll of a funeral bell. Silence reigned over them all as droplets of blood dripped off the Queen's blade.

A crushing wave of noise caused Jeanette's horse reared up and she struggled to stay in the saddle. The crowd erupted and began to press in and draw their swords. Frederick cried out for calm, but he was lost in the din. Swetford just grinned nastily and started melting back through the crowd. The Captain of her Guard, Vrenchak, grabbed the reins of the horse and started to pull her back as the rest of her retinue closed in to protect her.

This isn't what I wanted! She thought in a panic. There wasn't supposed to be any bloodshed. Who was that girl and why did she come at me with a knife? The rest of her thoughts were lost in a blur of fear, panic, and instinct as her guard fought their way out of the ranks. All around her the commoners were being cut down. Screams filled the air, and the scent of blood and gore brought back memories of the aftermath of the skirmish outside the Lyskean Pass. The path in front of them began to thin out as her powerful orc guards hacked their way through the unarmored and lightly armed mob.

Just as she thought they were free, the orc to her right cried out as the tip of a spear was rammed through the back of his neck. Blood spurted out and the horse panicked and galloped off. Professional soldiers from the two Duke's levies were making their way forward now, cutting off their retreat. The hardened soldiers put her guard to the test, and soon Jeanette found herself raising her sword to ward off the attacks of a thickset warrior mounted atop a chestnut gelding.

Jeanette tried to remember all the things she learned in her lessons, but in the heat of the moment she could only swing her sword to try and knock away the attacking soldier. Her heart pounded in fear as the clash of swords made her ears ring. Soon his greater strength and skill broke through her guard, and a powerful flow knocked her from her horse. The Queen landed in the dirt with a grunt, and she curled up to avoid being trampled by the horses and men fighting all around her.