Orc Dominion: Triumph

"First they kill my son, and now they have my daughter? This is intolerable! What are you doing? How was she allowed to be captured!" Jeanette raved at the assembled lords as they met to discuss the latest news from the front. It was getting harder and harder to deal with Jeanette, especially with Grotok away from the city; the King had a way of dealing with her that no one else did.

"...you know how she is, always wanting to be in front..."

At least she is dressed today,

Drauken thought. Jeanette was nearing 60, and could no longer wear the adventurous and alluring costumes of her youth. Today she was dressed in a high-necked dress of black velvet. Whether it was in mourning for Sir Agmar, who Jeanette had recently admitted to the Court was her son, or whether she was finally realizing that she was well past her prime didn't matter, he was just glad to see her fully dressed.

"...quite brave, you know she doesn't shirk from danger..."

She's still attractive, in a matronly way,

he reflected,

when she's fully dressed at least.

Drauken shifted his attention away from the Queen to the man at her side. Dorian was the head of the Queen's Shadows, and her chief bodyguard. After Grotok, he was the only one who Jeanette would listen to, but he rarely bothered to speak at these meetings. The spymaster was more interested in listening to what everyone else was saying than in guiding the Queen himself.

What he says when he's alone with her is something else entirely, though.

"Well Drauken, what do you think?" Jeanette asked him pointedly. "You are here representing the Council of Guilds, aren't you?"

"Give me a moment to consult my notes, Your Highness."

"The arms and armor figures, Master Drauken." Melora whispered to him.

Drauken smiled at his Elfish assistant. Melora was pretty, with long hair that shined with the gold of her people. She had a fine figure, with a bust larger than most elfs which gave her wonderful curves. Melora had been an incredible asset to him these past few months.

Thank you

he mouthed before turning back to Jeanette. "All our forges are burning night and day. The next shipment of spear and arrowheads will be ready to depart by the end of the week. Chain shirts will be ready the week after. However, there is still the matter of payment."

Jeanette scowled. "There's a war on, in case you haven't realized. Tell the Smiths that they'll be paid in due time."

"It's not that simple, Your Highness. With trade from Thesta and Sandora cut off, the Guilds are running low on gold. Business from the Crown is all that's keeping them afloat, but without gold they can't pay their workers." Drauken explained patiently. Jeanette knew all that, of course, but he needed to say it in a way that wouldn't set her off.

The Queen gave an exasperated sigh and turned to her son Vilknar, who served as Royal Treasurer. "Do we have enough gold on hand to pay those damn coin counters their due?"

Vilknar responded quickly and confidently. "Most of our coin has already been spent purchasing food for the army, Your Highness. The rest is needed to pay the soldiers in the field. Short of melting down some of the treasures in the vault, we won't have enough coin to pay the Smiths until new taxes are collected next year."

"There you see, merchant? No coin until next year. Tell them they'll just have to be patient."

He didn't need to look to Melora for information on Vilknar. The young orc was one of the most talked about persons in court, though ironically not for any scandal, but because he was the one son of Jeanette's who wasn't rumored to be sleeping with her. "I'm sure it would be a crime to melt down such treasures." He paused a moment. "Nonetheless, the Smiths can't sustain themselves only the love they bear for Your Highness."

"I'm sure you have some solution in mind, Master Drauken, and are not merely listing problems." Vilknar cut in, hoping to cut off an explosion from the Queen.

"If we canvass all the members of all the Guilds, we might be able to produce enough coin to cover the wages of the Smiths. The Council of Guilds can be persuaded to extend the Crown a line of credit. But it would leave us hard pressed, Your Highness. In order to stay solvent, the Council would need a land grant for certain mines you seized from the old Duchy of Swetford, some," he glanced at the parchment Melora slid over, "forty-two years passed."

"Usury!" Jeanette snarled, her face mottling in rage.

"Not quite, Your Highness, Usury would-"

"A land grant would not be all that unusual in these situations, Your Highness," Vilknar intervened again, "though if such a grant was to be made, it would fund a line of credit not just for the purchase from the Smiths, but for any expenses we might accrue in the future. Isn't that right, Master Drauken?" The Treasurer gave him a pointed look.

Drauken hid his annoyance at Vilknar's punctiliousness.

If he's always like this it's no wonder his mother wants nothing to do with him. Still, it was to be expected, and it doesn't matter anyway. Possession is the better part of the law, and when the war is over it won't matter what line of credit the Queen has.

"Of course, that would be the custom. Think of it as a long term investment, Your Highness."

"Fine." She spat ungraciously. "Vilknar, see to the details. We need those arms and armor! Our forces in Heste are in full retreat. Our army in Zentara is stuck at the Hades Pass. What do you have to say for yourself?" Jeanette pointed towards the green-skinned orc sitting at the end of the table.

"Bogor, Sir Agmar's oldest son." Melora whispered again.

"We were ambushed, plain and simple. Amelie knew precisely where we were going to be and had laid the perfect trap for us." Bogor replied.

"How could they know that? The route he took was off the main road just so Amelie wouldn't be able to predict his movements. Didn't he have outriders to intercept her scouts?"

"He did, Your Highness. Local orcs who knew the terrain better than any Northern Lord or Thestan." Bogor said confidently.

"Then how did she manage to ambush him? The Princess-Knight isn't a magician! She's just a woman! So how did she divine his location!" Jeanette shouted out.

"Perhaps someone told her." Dorian interjected, heading off what was looking to be another tirade.

"What?" Jeanette paused, but only for a moment. "Who would have done that? Belkor didn't have any humans in his army, and no orc would betray us to the Thestans."

"Then it must have been someone in this room." Dorian said, quietly.

The Queen's Shadow scanned the room, and Drauken's heart stopped as Dorian's eyes settled on him. But a moment later they continued, and he relaxed.

He's not a magician either,

he thought,

there's no way he could know what I did.

What we did

. Jeanette didn't know it, but the whole Council of Guilds was against her. Many of the Duchies as well. This war just wasn't good for business. On the contrary, it was pure madness.

"Then I have no doubt you'll root out the traitor, whoever he is." Jeanette said simply as she looked around the room suspiciously.

At least her suspicion is on the humans,

Drauken thought.

Dorian is another matter though. I'll have to be more careful in the future.

"We need to do something about the Hesten situation. Amelie's ambush has left our forces in disarray. They're going to have to retreat south of the Warne River, which means Dormstadt will be under siege." Jeanette sat thoughtfully a moment. "It may be time to put Garrett into play."

Garrett?

He looked at Melora questioningly.

"The last Ousten King of Heste. He's been in captivity since the Third Thestan War."

Interesting. I can use that.

"An excellent idea, Your Highness. What better way to undermine Henry's legitimacy than to remind everyone that the last Ousten King abdicated his throne. To demonstrate that if they were to support the Ousten claim on the throne than they are fighting on the wrong side."

"How do you intend to proceed?" Dorian asked the Queen.

"We send him to Belkor. Parade him about in front of the people. Have him give some speeches, send pigeons to the Northern Lords."

"A good plan, Your Highness. Will he cooperate?" Drauken asked.

"I think he can be persuaded." Jeanette replied with a smile. "We just need to arrange to have him moved securely to the front. Dorian, begin putting together a plan. Moving on, when will reinforcements from the Elfish Isles arrive?"

"It is difficult to say, Your Highness. King Trogar has begun calling his levies, but is insisting King Grotok write to request his support."

Jeanette closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I will make sure that Grotok sends the request. You write to Trogar to make sure he understands the consequences of playing games. What about our food supply?"

"Stable for now, though it is taking all we have to keep the army fed. We've not been able to store any for winter, and once the weather turns we're going to be in trouble." Some minor lord from the Duchy of Oxmain said, and continued to rattle off on the food stores.

The human lord's rambling was interrupted as a young servant entered the chamber and whispered something in Dorian's ear. The look of surprise on his face made Drauken sit up and take notice. It was the most emotion he'd ever seen on the spymaster's face.

Dorian whispered something back to the servant and then paused to collect his thoughts. Jeanette wasn't having that though, and demanded to know what was in the report. "Your Highness, a small fleet of ships has just entered the harbor, and reports are saying that Prince Augras is aboard."

"Augras? Alive?" Jeanette brightened up at the news that her grandson might be alive. "This must be a sign! Things will certainly start going our way now. Where has he been? What has he been doing?" She asked eagerly.

"He is on his way here to see you in person, Your Highness. There is more though, reports are also saying that he has brought a small army with him; an army of Minotaurs and Centaurs." Dorian didn't look happy to be reporting that; he clearly wanted better confirmation before bringing this to the Queen's attention.

Most of the lords in the room scoffed, but not Drauken. As Guild Master of caravans, a new Guild created by the Queen to represent the orc traders who traveled to the Eastern Kingdoms, he knew better than anyone that there were too many reports of both creatures to ignore. Could Prince Augras really have found some on his journey to the southern continent?

"Have him brought here, we'll get to the truth of the matter," Jeanette said, "and woe unto him if this is a trick!"

****

Augras took a deep breath as he stepped onto the dock and immediately regretted it. After three years on the southern continent and two months at sea, Ruar smelled like shit and filth and rotten fish. The sea-soaked boards of the dock creaked under his feet as he settled his massive weight on the wood. The first time he visited the city his grandmother had been able to throw him in the air. The last time he visited Ruar, just before leaving on his expedition, his uncle had threatened to.

Well, they won't be able to do that anymore.

"It's amazing what your people have accomplished." Marishka said. The tall Mincenntti woman regarded the city before them with fascination. The humans and orcs working the docks gave her a wide berth as they proceeded down the dock towards the harbor. Marishka was a head taller than most human men, but with the lithe, spindly build of an elf. Her skin was a darker grey than most orcs, and though her pointed canines weren't as fierce as an orc's tusks her utterly alien appearance made even the burly orcs step aside for her.

Of course, they may also have been clearing the way for the massive Minotaur and Centaur that were following closely behind. The Minotaur was massive, even larger than an orc with the head of a bull and a strong, muscular body. The Centaur had the body of a horse and the torso of a Mincenntti, making him quite tall but not quite as physically imposing as the Minotaur.

"You haven't even seen the castle yet." Augras smiled at the memory of Greenthorn Castle. He always enjoyed coming here as a chil, even if it always left Trogar in a bad mood. His grandmother was always a delight, and never seemed to hold it against him that he didn't look like a full blooded orc. "It's amazing what you can do with ingenuity and cleverness."

"Those same attributes serve you well in the higher arts too." She added. "But I do look forward to seeing what wonders your people have built."

He could tell the Mincenntti woman was being genuine. For all the wonders her own people created, they still lived in stone huts and used stone tools. Seeing the craftsmanship resulting from steel and iron was a magic in its own right.

They were met at the end of the harbor by his uncle Rodarek, the second youngest of all Jeanette's children. "Augras! Is that really you after all these years? Come here and let me get a good look at you." The orc craned his neck to look up at him, and seemed satisfied with what he saw. "You've seen to grow into yourself, finally."

"I was reforged during my journeys, uncle. I'm no longer the child I was when I left."

Rodarek looked from Augras to the Mincenntti, and then to the Minotaur and Centaur following behind. "I can see that. Who are your friends?"

"I'll introduce them at the castle, uncle. It will get tiresome if I have to keep repeating myself." Augras smiled lightly as Marishka continued to look about the city.

"Heh, you don't think Dorian is going to just let your friends waltz into the castle into the Queen's presence, do you?"

A knowing smile crossed his lips. "He might object, but I don't think Grandmother will let him. Plus, he'll want to see them firsthand and hear what I have to say. I've brought victory home with me, uncle."

If Rodarek had anything to say to that, he kept it to himself. Which pleased Augras well enough, as he knew he was going to have to tell his story numerous times in the coming weeks. Augras had imagined many times what it would be like when he returned to the city. Sometimes he imagined cheering crowds as he showered them in the riches of the south. Others he was a fearsome sorcerer riding in on black clouds. But the truth was more satisfying. People simply watched in awe as he led his procession towards the castle. Oh, he knew that they were in awe of his companions; he didn't have any delusions about that. But they were his retainers, and being the loan familiar figure amidst such wondrous companions would give him just the right sort of mystique.

"We've arranged a room for you in the city, so that you can rest before-"

"I may not look like my father, but I'm not my mother either. Thank you, but I'll sleep at the castle tonight."

Was that a deliberate insult?,

he wondered,

I've been away so long I don't know the political climate. I have to remember that this may not be a glorious homecoming.

"Of course. But the council is in session, with the war on-"

"And you weren't invited? I take it you don't sit on the council, uncle." Augras could see his uncle stiffen at being interrupted again, but he knew that he had to maintain control of the conversation for as long as possible.

No one is going to take me serious

, he thought,

at least at first. If I want to insert myself into the halls of power I need to be direct, and show them that I am someone to take notice of.

"How do you manage to craft the stone so high without shaping it?" Marishka asked.

"Shape it? What is that?" Rodarek asked.

"A Mincenntti technique." Augras replied vaguely, and then turned to the woman. "Chemistry and physics. We create mortar to bind stone blocks together, and through centuries of practice have learned how to balance and support them so they don't fall over."

"Fascinating. Labor intensive, but clever."

They continued through the city, with Augras answering Marishka's questions about how everything worked. His Minotaur and Centaur companions stayed silent. Neither were bred for their curiosity; their interests were more primal in nature. As long as Augras made good of his promises they would remain loyal.

It was dusk by the time they reached the castle, which meant that Augras achieved his second objective: he made them wait all day for this meeting instead of letting them put him off until morning, a time of their choosing.

"You'll have to live up to this personality you're projecting, Augras." Marishka said quietly, making Augras scowl. She had sworn that she couldn't read minds, but nonetheless always seemed to know exactly what he was thinking.

"I will. With your help." They entered the castle, and as expected the guards had been instructed to let all of them pass. It was a tight fit for the centaur, but they managed to maneuver the castle halls until they reached the Queen's war room.

The councilors were all seated around the table, turned to face them. He didn't recognize anyone save his Grandmother and Dorian, and none of them looked happy to see him except for Jeanette. He thought of Bernadette, and then quickly pushed the memory of her face aside. Jeanette rose from the head of the table with a smile on her face. "Augras! Welcome home. This is truly a blessed day. My grandson has been returned to us!" Jeanette paused in surprise as she noticed how large Augras had become. "You've certainly grown up, though I can still recognize you. A grandmother could never forget her grandchild's face!"

"Thank you, Your Highness. It is good to be home. It has been a long day coming." Augras replied in a steady tone, trying not to betray how his true feelings for the Queen. "As to that, I had some help. May I present to you Marishka, Archon of the Mincenntti." Marishka inclined her head respectfully. "This is Brindhour, Chieftain of the Minotaurs, and Golinchkar, Chieftain of the Centaurs. They've sworn to serve me, and to assist us in our war against Thesta and Sandora."

Jeanette's gaze drifted hungrily between the Minotaur and Centaur for a moment before she turned to Augras. "I didn't realize that word of the war travelled all the way to the Southern Continent."

"Fate doesn't need words or winds to spread its message, Blessed Mother." Marishka replied.

"Marishka can see visions, of sorts. She divined that it was time for me to return home. To offer our support in the war." To lead it and win it, but he couldn't say that yet.

"Visions?" One of the human councilors he didn't recognize scoffed. "I hope she's bringing more to it than that."

The Mincenntti slowly turned her head towards the human. The woman's long neck and dour expression made her seem almost like a dragon as she regarded the councilor. "More than you've dreamed of; enough to make your fantasies come true, narrow though they are, and sooner than you think."

Silence descended on the room for a moment as the Royal Council absorbed that strange statement. Finally, Dorian broke the silence as he looked at him carefully. "Where have you been all this time? It seems cruel not to have sent word sooner."

"My ship was caught in a storm off the coast of the southern continent," Augras replied, careful not to look at Jeanette, "I was the only survivor. I've spent the last three years studying and training with Marishka, as well as forging alliances with the Minotaurs and Centaurs."

After a moment had passed, the green skinned orc spoke. "How many of these Minotaurs and Centaurs did you bring?"

"A thousand, give or take."

"Not enough to change the balance in the war, then." The orc persisted.