Orc Dominion: Triumph Ch. 04

Grotok took a deep breath before finally nodding his assent. "Very well, capture your own prisoner if you're so set on it. If you want to dance on the precipice of the abyss, let it be on your own head. Either way, the credit will be yours. If you fail, I'm going to let the entirety of the Western Kingdoms know that you engaged in human sacrifice in your madness. However, if you succeed and do manage to take down their castle, everyone will know of your miracle."

"Good enough uncle, good enough." Augras gestured to Marishka. "Summon Brindhour. We're launching a sortie tonight."

****

Augras cursed the darkness as he led Brindhour and a small party of Minotaurs through the pass. I picked a poor night to launch a raid, Augras thought, but it's not like I had much choice. Blackness enveloped them like a cloak, and each step was like wading through the Abyss. The moon was new, so they didn't even have its light to guide them. I can't afford to wait a fortnight for the moon to be better. At least, that's what he told himself. At least the Minotaurs have good night vision that will make it easier.

As they cut over the broken terrain on either side of the pass, Brindhour reached out to grab Augras' arm, stopping him. He gestured up ahead, signaling for the war band to halt. The burly minotaur cocked his head, listening to the stillness of the night for a moment, before shaking it and waving for them to continue.

The twin fortresses Amelie built to guard the pass weren't much farther ahead, not that he planned on raiding the castles themselves. Whoever was in charge of their defenses was bound to have sentries watching for the orc army. It would be hard to find them in the dark, but with luck it would be just as difficult for them to spot his party.

Augras clenched his fingers tighter around the hilt of his sword, keeping it still inside his sheathe to keep it from rattling. He bit his lip to keep from grunting as he stumbled on a rock, and stiffened as he heard it clatter down the steep side of the hill. The Minotaurs all stopped and waited, ready to fight if any enemies charged out of the shadows.

Seconds passed, but no enemies attacked so they continued through the night. I've got to be more careful, he thought, not that there's much I can do about it. Minutes passed, it was hard to tell how many since he couldn't track the movement of the moon through the night sky. An hour maybe, or half of one and he saw pinprick lights in the distance. The castles. We're bound to find some scouts now.

Moments later his prediction came true. As he came around a bend, Augras found himself looking at a Sandoran soldier pissing against the rock face. They both stared at each other in shock. And then without thinking Augras drew his sword and plunged it into the man's belly. He gurgled out a last groan before falling to the ground, hand still on his cock. Brindhour came up beside laughed in spite of himself. "I thought you wanted a prisoner, Augras? What did you kill this one for?"

That was stupid, he thought, I can't believe I just did that. Augras had been thinking of finding the enemy and surprising them with an ambush. He hadn't been thinking about blundering into one, and when that happened he responded on instinct and muscle memory. "I got a little excited. There will be more where he came from, so get ready."

"Shut your mouth Bryan." Someone whispered harshly in the night. A moment later another soldier appeared, and when he saw Augras his eyes widened. "Orc! Orc!" In a flash his sword was drawn, and a moment later his compatriots came around the corner and the battle was joined.

"Don't kill them all!" Augras shouted. "We need at least one!" Augras charged the first human and raised his sword to block the Sandoran's attack. He towered above the man, but the soldier didn't shrink away and met him head on. Their steel rang in the night as they traded blows.

Around him his Minotaurs rushed into battle. Brindhour led the way, and with a swing of his great axe split a crack straight down his opponent's shield. The soldier dropped the splintered wood, screaming in pain as he drew his arm back. The force of the Minotaur's blow had shattered his forearm. As Brindhour closed in to grab the man he struck out wildly with his sword, scraping the blade over his armor. The tip just barely managed to reach his bovine face and cut a thin line down his muzzle.

Brindhour howled in rage and wrapped his meaty fingers around the man's neck, lifted him up, and then smashed him down onto the stone earth with a sickening thud. Another bellow rang out from his throat as he squeezed the man's neck until his trachea collapsed and then smashed his head once more, caving in the back of his skull and splattering brain, blood, and bone across the rock.

"What were you saying, Brindhour?" Augras called out with a laugh as he parried his opponent's attack. His size and reach made it easy to keep the human at bay, giving him time to come up with a plan to take him alive. "If you're all done there, come over and give me a hand."

The Minotaur lumbered over, flanking the Sandoran warrior. He and Augras carefully maneuvered, herding the soldier and boxing him in to cut off his escape.

"Throw down your sword and surrender, we're only here for prisoners, not bodies." Augras said, trying to keep his true intent hidden.

"Fuck you, orc. I won't be tortured into telling you anything!"

No, you won't be. Augras nodded to Brindhour, who feinted forward. When the soldier turned to block the attack, Augras dashed in and smashed the flat of his blade across the side of the man's head, knocking him down. With surprising quickness for his size, he flung his arm out to snatch the soldier's sword away. "Take him, Brindhour, the sooner we get back to camp the better."

As the Minotaur chieftain scooped up the prisoner, Augras turned back to the skirmish. The Minotaurs were clearly winning, though he noted sourly that they didn't seem to be taking too many prisoners. Maybe they weren't the best choice for this after all, but it's not like Grotok was going to lend me any of his warriors and this isn't the best terrain for Centaurs. At least we got one prisoner.

"Augras!" One of the Minotaurs called out. "Look! Prisoner!" The Minotaur held up a soldier who looked to be barely clinging to life. Every breath was a labored rattle, and from the dark stains seeping out from his torn armor Augras guessed he didn't have long to live.

"Good job, but we already have one. You can kill him."

The Minotaur gave a broad smile and snapped the man's neck, splitting the night with a loud crack. It's time to end this, he thought. Only one knot of resistance remained: three soldiers in a tight formation holding off the Minotaurs. Their fighting in unison, he realized, while the Minotaurs are fighting as individuals. Augras positioned himself on the far end of the Minotaurs. "On me, work together." I'm going to have to spend some time drilling them when we return to camp.

As the minotaur on his left struck, the center human thrust his sword out and stabbed him in the leg. The human he was facing then chopped his sword down towards his shoulder but Augras stepped in to block it with his shield. Then, quick as a flash, he brought his sword down and across from behind, cutting the tendons behind the man's left knee. As the Sandoran fell to the ground the Minotaur swung his hammer down and split the soldier's skull.

"There's one down, roll them up now, roll them up!" A few moments later, the last two were dead. "Good work everyone. Let's get back to camp...it's time to bring down the mountain."

Without having to worry about stealth Augras' group made excellent time and had the prisoner returned to the Zentaran camp before the moon reached its zenith. They were met with cheers from the whole camp upon their return, which Augras welcomed: there was enough racial tension in the Western Kingdoms already, he didn't want to add to it with more discord between the orcs and the Minotaurs and Centaurs.

Marishka and Grotok were waiting for them at the far edge of the camp, near where Augras' soldiers had settled in. While they were away, his remaining forces had dug a pit twice the length of a man. Channels had then been dug into the ground surrounding the pit at forty-five degree angles. Augras carried the unconscious prisoner over and dropped him in, careful that he wouldn't land on his head or neck to seriously injure him.

"Well, it looks like you can fight at least," Grotok remarked, "what are you going to do with him now?"

"Marishka hasn't told you yet...or did you not want to ask?" Augras replied. "It's no secret. You're free to watch, if you like."

"The human will stand in place for his brothers," Marishka explained, "and these will stand place for the castles." Marishka said, pulling out two model castles sculpted from clay.

"Golinchkar," Augras called out to the Centaur chief, "bring the water up."

The Centaur nodded to his men, and a moment later his tribesmen brought up a half dozen carts holding barrels of water. The Centaurs began to unload them, positioning them around the pit.

"That's a lot of water, Augras. Water that could be sustaining my army. This had better be worth it." Grotok said with a scowl.

"You still don't believe it will work?" Marishka asked. "No matter, you will see. Yes, when you see for yourself you will no longer be able to disbelieve and then you will look upon the Child of Three Races with respect."

"That's a long way of saying that the 'proof is in the pudding', uncle." Augras chuckled. "Now, give me a moment to prepare." Augras closed his eyes and took a deep breath to clear his mind. When it was blank, he began to fill in the darkness with a picture. He saw the pinpricks of light from the two fortresses. Slowly the darkness fell away until the castles were there clearly in his mind. He began to push his power into the ground, thrusting it into the earth. He molded it around the contours of the pit, surrounding it with his energy.

"Begin."

The Centaurs began tapping the barrels and letting the water flow out into the channels they had dug. The water flowed through the earth, transmuting the dirt into mud. The channels did not run into the pit, but stopped before breaking through the wall. But as the water pooled, the pressure grew and weakened the integrity of the pit.

As they watched silently, Augras continued to throw his power into the ground. He could feel the water running through it, and let it soak and permeate his magic. He used it and helped the water push through the dirt towards the pit.

The first stream broke through, showering the captive with water and mud. He awoke with a splutter and rolled over, before sitting up. "What's happening?" A moment later, another channel broke adding another geyser of water into the pit. The captive jumped to his feet and looked up. "What are you doing? Let me out of here!"

Augras ignored the man's pleas. It has to be this way, he thought, better their soldiers should die than ours. He focused on his magic and in his mind's eye he saw the castles start to turn from stone to mud.

More water flowed into the pit, and as it reached the captives knees he sloshed through the muddy water and tried to scramble up the side of the pit. However, the walls were too weak and muddy now, and as he placed his foot in the hole left by the water, it sank through and he fell onto his back. "Don't do this! It isn't right! I'm your prisoner!" He screamed.

Grotok growled and clenched his teeth, shooting Augras a dark look. But the half-orc didn't see; all he saw was the twin fortresses collapsing into mud. Holding that image in his mind, he pushed a great burst of magic into the earth.

Seconds later the first wall collapsed and caved in, burying the prisoner up to his waist in mud. "Please! Let me out! I'll tell you what you want! Don't let me die like this!" No one moved to help him, though. The Centaurs and Minotaurs watched impassively, while Marishka chanted softly in her own tongue and pulled out the clay castles, which she tossed into the pit.

Only Grotok looked moved by his appeals, but his hands were tied. The life of one Sandoran wasn't worth defying his mother's command, nor going back on the agreement he made with Augras. Especially if his nephew's promises were true and the castles would be taken care of.

Another wall collapsed, and then another, trapping the Sandoran up to his shoulders. The prisoner began to sob and scream, but Augras was committed. As the fortresses in his imagination crumbled into mud, the last wall of the pit collapsed and the captive's screams went silent.

For a long moment no one said anything, but then Grotok broke the silence. "Is that it, then? When do the castles come down?"

Marishka ignored the sneer in his tone. "It is already happening. Look!" She extended her long, spindly arm and pointed into the pass. As the King turned around, a bright flash of lightning lit up the sky in the distance. "Augras has brought the storm, which will wash away those castles."

In the distance thunder crackled again and a strong wind picked up, howling viciously in the night. Torches flickered and then went out as the gale winds picked up. "We should return to our tents, uncle, it's going to be a long, wet night."

****

The next morning, Grotok, Augras, and Marishka rode through the pass to see the destruction. Both castles were gone, struck off the face of the mountains. Nearly all trace of them had vanished, except for the odd stone jutting out from the mud. Augras and Grotok looked on, stunned by the scale of the destruction.

Marishka looked smug. "Now that you see for yourself, do you still doubt the strength of his power?"

Grotok's expression became dour. "His power is great, no doubt about it...perhaps too great." He gestured to the mountains of mud filling the pass. "The castles are gone, yes, but it's going to take months to clear this mess out enough to march our armies through! Longer, probably, once the winter sets in and freezes the mud! We're not going anywhere!"

Augras continued to look on for a moment, before turning to Grotok with a shrugs. "The castles are gone. What took Amelie years to build were wiped out overnight, with all the soldiers manning them. Maybe it will take a few months to progress, but that is still better than sitting here stuck. Either way, we need to wait until spring to campaign." A smile crossed his face, "besides, my Centaurs will be able to easily get through that muck in the meantime. They'll scout and raid behind their lines and report back. Look up, uncle! This is a great victory!"

****

Brigitte froze as she heard servants bustling down the hall outside of her room, but a moment later they were gone. Seeing to more preparations. Everyone is busy getting Amelie ready to depart for the pass. With all the chaos in the castle no one should notice when I leave. At least, that was the plan. With the destruction of the fortresses in the Hell Pass the situation had changed: the strategy of keeping the orcs contained in Zentara was no longer going to be possible.

It was fortunate that Amelie was on this side of the mountain when it happened; it would be much faster for her to ride to the Pass to try and slow down the orc forces while the Sandoran troops marched to intercept. With a bit of luck, they could stall the orcs long enough for Henry to push Belkor out of Heste, and then everything would proceed as planned.

Brigitte pulled on her lambskin breeches, a tunic, and then wrapped herself in a dark cloak. After pressing her ear to the door to make sure the way was safe, she slipped out of her room and began making her way out of the castle.

I have to do this, she thought. Amelie should be able to slow them, but with whatever weapon they used to destroy the castles we can't rely on that. If they get past her both Orlous and Megdis will fall into their hands like leaves in the Fall.

They needed something to distract the orcs. In point of fact, they needed all the help they could get. So she decided to slip out of the castle and ride into the Angrian March to try and recruit the orcs to their side. She had no illusions about how it would go. Brigitte knew enough about them to know that they would violate her. Likely repeatedly, and in ways she didn't dare imagine. Women who were made captives of orcs became little better than slaves.

It's not like I'm needed for an important alliance, she reflected, Amelie doesn't have any relatives my age, not that we need marriage to bring the alliance closer. Nor does Henry. So I might as well make an orc alliance. She smiled wryly to herself.

Still, she thought her plan would work. At least, she hoped it would. Originally, this would have been handled by a diplomat who could meet the orcs as equals. But with her father disapproving the plan, she had to strike out by herself, likely to be captured. But the orcs weren't used to willing captives, especially not a Princess. Her offer would make them listen to her, she just had to be persuasive. The Duchy of Haverset lay just across the mountains from her home of Megdis. They shared a border, and she knew more about their wealth and defenses than anyone in Sandora.

The loot would be more than enough to tempt the clans remaining in the March. Sacking Shropfordshire could be just what was needed to tilt the balance of the war in their favor, and if it did, it would be all worth it. Even if she had to spend the rest of her life as an orc's concubine.

She spent the first few days on the road desperately looking over her shoulder, fearful that she'd see her father's men riding behind her. At night she cuddled with her horse for warmth and half-wished her father's men would find her. Brigitte lasted the week it took to get into the territory of the orc chief she was looking for.

On the wide open plain she knew it wouldn't be long before orc outriders spotted her. Just as she expected, she soon spotted riders on the horizon, using the setting sun to mask their approach. "This is it," she muttered to herself, and closed her eyes to take a deep breath, "this is when I start showing them how willing I am." She pulled on the reins of the horse and rode in the direction of the orcs.

Within the hour two orc raiders were circling her, a base, leering expression on their faces that she had no trouble discerning for all that she was a virgin. "Good afternoon, gentlemen. I'm so glad you found me."

The orcs laughed and exchanged a look before one of them addressed her. "I hope you're not about to tell us you're lost, little girl."

"Not at all, I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be. I've been looking for you." She replied, trying to sound confident.

"Is that right? I don't need to ask what would bring a pretty thing like you out here in search of an orc." The orc leered at her.

"Maybe you should, the answer might surprise you," She retorted.

The orcs moved closer to her, and the one with whom she had been talking reached out to stroke her hair. "Alright dove, I'll play. What brings you out here?"

Brigitte tried not to shudder as the orc played with her hair. His bulky form was so close to her, possibly closer than any man had ever been to her outside of her family. She could smell him, his leather, his horse, the scent of his body. It took a moment to steady herself before she continued, "I want to tell your chief where he can find great treasure, and many captives."

The orc threw his head back and laughed. "Let me guess, on the far side of the Angrian March, far from these lands, where we'll never trouble you?" The orc continued to play with her hair, while the other one reached around from behind to grasp her tits, squeezing them in his big hands.