Day Seven
ADRIANNA
There were times in my life where I stopped, considered the situation I was in, and whispered to myself, "What the fuck happened?" I was having one of those moments when I woke up that morning. The first thing I noticed, was that the gnawing in my nethers had subsided substantially. It wasn't gone, but it was manageable. The second thing I noticed, was that I needed to take a huge shit.
"Don't." Came a voice beside me, "I know what you're feeling, but it will pass. You just need to relax."
I rotated to see Soraya behind me, holding me like a lover in slumber. She crinkled her nose. "Domina makes me get enemas every night so that I'm clean the next day. I'm jealous of you, to be honest. A cum enema sounds absolutely therapeutic."
I peeled myself off the floor, and assessed my predicament. I was nestled between Soraya and Furia. There was a plug in my ass, and it was holding god-only-knew how many loads. My belly was slightly distended with it, and there was a warmth within me that was quite pleasant. I unclenched around the plug, and the urge to defecate was alleviated.
"See?" Soraya giggled, "A little trick of the trade."
"You're a scribe."
"And everyone always called me such a tight-ass." She tittered.
I chuckled with her, and my eyes fell easily to lush lips. They beckoned me, and I kissed them without shame or restraint. Furia groaned, then roused herself. I watched her out of the corner of my eye as I shared Soraya's lips and tongue, and she watched me with amusement and erotic interest. No jealousy, not anymore. I gave her a wink, and she returned the ocular smile. Yes, we would love the others, but what Furia and I had was special.
"Come on," I said, breaking from the kiss, "Everyone up! We have a busy day!"
TRENOK
Dad and I had nearly attacked Zander when he made his suggestion. After all the work we'd put into securing the allegiance of the Ten, after all the blood we'd shed, and the sacrifices we'd made to make Dad the first Froktora in a thousand years, the old wizard wanted to throw it all away by killing the chieftains?! Titus naturally sided with Zander, the cold pragmatist that he was. It had been Zander after all, who had laid the plans for assassinating the Maple tribe leaders, and it had been Titus's children who had carried it out. Killing orc chieftains meant very little to them, so what were the Ten? Orcs were all the same. Never mind that such a move would dismantle millennia of tradition and history. But of course, that was the idea. Centralize power to the crown, destroy political opponents before they could even gain footing, and secure the Yavara Alkandi dynasty for an epoch. The time of tribes was done.
To her credit, Yavara had listened carefully to all sides, but in the end, she was not dissuaded. She wasn't born in the Great Forest, and deep down, she didn't care about orc tradition or culture. Ironically enough, if Elena had been there, I doubted Yavara would've agreed to it. Elena was all about loyalty and compassion, and look where that got her. Tortured to death, and the man who had ensured that death, the man who had killed my mother, was now the governess of my beloved new nation. How in the ever-living-fuck had that happened? Dad had been satisfied with the vengeance dealt, claiming that this Adrianna was suffering a far worse fate than death by being forced to betray her nation and live as a species she detested. I didn't believe it for a second. High-elves and orcs were actually more alike than we wanted to admit, but dark-elves were a different thing entirely. They didn't think like the rest of us. Thomas Adarian would've slit his wrists to know he'd succumb to such a fate, but Adrianna Alkandra was undoubtedly very happy to be alive.
"Trenok!" Nerok Kraklari yelled from her warg, "How much further to Alkandra? My ass is killing me!"
"Perhaps you should try walking then!" I suggested with a smile that was more a death grimace. Dad hated Gorlok, but I thought his wife was even worse. She was a short fat bitch with a temper to match, and she rode her lumbering warg like a queen before the procession.
"Are you sure you know the way?" Fletariak Dartiki sneered. She was an old bitch, her green skin shriveled and hard, and she didn't get any softer beneath.
"Of course he knows the way, Fletariak," Uniok Silktari tittered, "a good dog always knows the way home."
"And a good bitch always knows her place!" I snapped at her. Her smile only broadened. The other matriarchs weren't much better. There was Leanok Balktar, Heidiak Waldaki, Vulnar Hektaki, Biatrik Fertorki, Jealtoniki Drundiki and Lopi Huftraki. All of them were varying degrees of awful, and my only solace during the long trek was that they'd soon be Adrianna's problem. Well, that wasn't my only solace. All of the matriarchs had daughters, and they'd never in their lives seen a specimen like me in the Tundra. I was forbidden from going into their tents, but nothing prevented them from coming into mine. Now that my father was Froktora, the daughters of the Ten wanted Terdini sons. Needless to say, I pulled out. They were unworthy.
I looked back at the endless river of orcs behind me, caravans laden with goods, great beasts of burden hauling them. From astride my bull, I could make out the divisions that had formed in the column. Getting orcs to march in any kind of order was impossible, unless the orcs were traveling side-by-side with their most hated enemies. No, not the Highlanders; each other. If I hadn't set such a grueling pace to exhaust them, I didn't doubt that battle would've broken out in the column, and these were just the old men, women and children. But perhaps they'd all hate Adrianna more than each other. Maybe there was a touch of genius to Yavara's plan.
I crested the hill, and stopped in my tracks. For a moment, I thought I had taken a wrong turn, for before me was a city the likes of which I'd never seen. There was a single wide street with a boulevard, flanked on both sides by tiered stone towers and the foundations of buildings yet to be erected. The land surrounding the narrow urban strip was all agrarian, and the little bodies of nymphs shown through robust greenery ready to harvest. It was only when I looked upon the castle that I realized my sense of direction hadn't failed me. This was Alkandra.
The matriarchs stepped beside me, and for the first time in four days, they were silent. Some had tears in their eyes, others had their mouths agape. All the bitterness in them washed away when they saw what they thought they never would.
"We're home."
Ten minutes later, I was riding along the path through the fields. The nymphs stopped their work to watch us pass. Some of the orcs whistled and called to the dainty forest women and boyish men, but their calls soon died when they saw the imposing figure of Arbor swoop in overhead, her great white wings casting a shadow on the column. The vines on the edge of the path moved like snakes, their thorns honed to a razor's edge. The message was clear. I nodded to her, and she nodded back.
We rode into the city proper, the entrance flanked by two large marble statues. One was of Yavara, and the other was of an elf I didn't recognize.
"Alkandi." Uniok whispered reverently, and touched the statue's toes.
When we entered the city, a great cheer rose up. The Terdini and Protaki citizens roared and waved their arms from the walkway, and I raised my hand in greeting, nearly moved to tears to see them. Aunts, uncles, cousins, nephews, and nieces. I dismounted my bull, and embraced many, making my way down the line until I didn't recognize the green faces. These were the Ardeni orcs, not a tattoo on their body. I gave them a nod, and they returned it. I was surprised that they didn't avert their gaze as they did when I was last in Alkandra. It galled me a little; these were the worker ants, the lowest of the low. They were barely more than slaves, yet they looked upon me man-to-man? I would have to break a few necks to remind them what they were. Still, they were useful beasts, weren't they? For certain, no tribesperson could build a city like
