Orc Dominion: Triumph Ch. 10

"I am "Hoschk, of the Regok Tribe! I thank Markoz for calling together my conclave." The orc bellowed out, before turning to Markoz. "Now step aside Markoz, and I will take control from here. You have neither the courage, vision, or strength to lead out people. Step aside, or I will crush you here and now!"

Markoz didn't even deign to answer, but simply hefted his axe again and advanced towards the challenger. Markoz was only required to engage in five contests a night, and he'd already finished off three others. The boldest orcs always challenged first, but fighting when the champion was fully rested was the most dangerous. Further, even if you won there might still be bold warriors who would challenge you in turn.

It was better to wait until the champion was tired from earlier bouts. This strategy was not without risk, however. The more exhausted one got, the wilder and more unpredictable he became. While once the champion might have held back and showed mercy, now he would make quick, killing strikes to defeat his foes. Drauken looked at Markoz and saw that determination in the orc's eyes. We just have to see if Hoschk has the skill and patience to stand against him.

The two orcs circled each other warily, their weapons up in a guard position. Neither feinted at the other, as both sought to preserve their strength for the contest to come. Drauken's heart was already pounding, though in trepidation not in excitement. He had hoped that the contests would be over. Instead, the man on whom his whole purpose was resting could be killed at any moment.

He didn't know what Hoschk planned for the conclave, but he doubted it would involve a raid into Zentara. Drauken eyed Brigitte again, but the princess was watching the fight intently. He began making his way to her, skirting the edge of the circle to reach her as fast as possible.

"After I take your head, I'm going to take your new slave. You can watch as I fill her womb with my seed and plant my son inside her!" Hoschk grinned ferally at Markoz, but the orc didn't rise to the bait. His grin sunk into a snarl and he lashed out, swinging a handaxe at Markoz. As the orc dodged, Hoschk slashed a second axe diagonally from the other direction.

Markoz caught the second attack with the head of his axe, then kicked out, forcing Hoschk to jump back. He quickly charged forward, thrusting the head of the axe at Hoschk to keep him off balance. As the other orc continued to step back he swung it in a sweeping arc, trying to knock Hoschk over as he attempted to dodge.

Instead, the orc leaned back so the axe swing above him, then charged forward and slammed into Markoz, tackling him to the ground. Hoschk grunted in pain as he took a knee to the ribs, but still forced himself up to crouch over Markoz. Using the axe's heft to add weight to his fist, he punched Markoz, slamming across the jaw with his left hand and then following up with a blow from his right.

Blood flew out of the orc's mouth from the impact, and his mind reeled from the blows to the head. He quickly threw up his hands to block and began to shimmy backwards, shrimping out from between Hoschk's legs. Hoschk raised his handaxe, hoping to finish Markoz off as he tried to escape. Instead, Markoz jabbed the pommel of his axe into Hoschk's sternum, then whipped it around to smash it across his jaw.

Hoschk tumbled off him and rolled away, giving both orcs time to leap to their feet. They circled each other warily, with both chiefs dripping blood from their mouths. Markoz was breathing heavily, heavier even than Hoschk.

Drauken watched in consternation as he made his way to Brigitte. "Your Highness" he addressed the princess, causing her to start, "I am Master Drauken, a friend from Zentara. Queen Amelie asked me to check in on you."

"She did?" Brigitte asked in wonder, though she continued to watch the fight anxiously. "That does sound like her. But I have everything well in hand here, Master Drauken. Soon enough we will be opening a new front in the war. So please do not even think of proposing to rescue me."

Drauken stared for a moment, then laughed. "That wasn't my intent at all, Your Highness! I actually respect what you've done here. It was a bold move, and one that I think will work. I want to help you however I can!"

"Really? Oh no!" Brigitte gasped as Hoschk ploughed into Markoz again, sending him flying back. Remarkably, Markoz managed to stay on his feet and threw himself back into the fight. He began hammering Hoschk hard and fast, pushing his antagonist across the clearing as he applied pressure.

Brigitte sighed in relief as the momentum in the fight swung in Markoz's favor again. "Really? You want to help? I assumed that Queen Amelie sent you here to rescue me and you thought this plan was insane."

"Not at all! The orcs can be persuaded, and a raid into Zentara would draw off their forces, undermine their defenses, and expose a weakness in Queen Jeanette's rule. It is a bold plan, and I want to help. I have many contacts with the merchants of the March. I assume one of their concerns will be the ability to sell or trade the booty if Zentara is closed. I can reassure them about that. I can also provide some much needed intelligence on where the Zentaran forces are, where Shropfordshire is vulnerable, and describe what wealth awaits them if they strike."

"That would be very helpful," Brigitte replied steadily, "the more orcs we can convince the stronger our force will be. Though take care not to make it sound too easy: the warriors will want some glory in the raid, not just plunder."

"I'll keep that in mind, Oh-!" Drauken winced as Markoz slammed the butt of the axe into Hoschk's face, breaking the orc's tusk and sending it flying into the bonfire. Hoschk stumbled to one side, but managed to raise his axe and tab the end of it into Markoz's stomach as the other orc tried to capitalize on the moment of weakness.

Although it spoiled his killing blow, Markoz shrugged off the attack, and lashed out with his foot kicking in at Hoschk's knee. The other orc cried out as his leg twisted and fell to the ground. Markoz brought his knee up under Hoschk's chin, and the orc's eyes rolled back as he collapsed into the dirt, unconscious.

A mighty cheer went up from the orcs. "Markoz! Markoz! Markoz!" The victorious chieftain raised the axe above his head and strutted about, basking in the revelry.

Drauken's eyes drifted down to the tattoos on Brigitte's breasts, as well as the piercings decorating her nipples. By the Abyss it's alluring to see that on a Princess! I don't know why, actually, since it's not all that out of place for Zentara. Maybe it's the fact that's she Sandoran and innocent...well, not so innocent now, I suppose.

"How is the war progressing, Master Drauken? I haven't heard any news since coming here."

"Queen Amelie bled King Grotok's army in the Pass, but they have finally managed to break through." He sighed. "I fear the battle with the Sandoran army in imminent. If it goes well, then the orcs here will help hem them into Zentara. If it goes poorly...well, perhaps they'll withdraw with the orcs threatening Ruar. The Hesten front is stable, with King Belkor still trapped south of the Warne. I think King Henry will be able to hold him there, though we will see about that soon as well. Belkor is also going to be marching too."

"Then we don't have any time to lose. It's all coming together, and if we want to be a factor in that then we have to strike quickly."

"We will. I don't think anyone else will be challenging Markoz, and this orc army will move faster than the ones were used to seeing in the Western Kingdoms. If they strike camp tomorrow you could be at Shropfordshire in a fortnight!"

With a deep, exhilarating laugh Markoz returned and grabbed Brigitte, lifting her up and swinging her about as he gave her a kiss. Her loincloth flipped up, flashing her ass to the cheering crowd of orcs as he held her close. "There's no one left to challenge me, Brigitte, and enough of the large clans are now honor bound to support us. Soon, we will be launching the largest orc raid into a human Kingdom in history!"

"Excellent, my chief, and not a moment to spare. This is Master Drauken, and he has some very valuable information for us..."

****

The day was dark, and overcast from the Spring rains, but it was Daniels' glower that send a violent tremor ran down Jasmara's spine. The rusty hinges of the kneel door screeched like a bird of prey intent on capturing its victim, but instead of doom it was signaling her freedom. At least, it meant freedom for the moment.

The old footman wasn't happy about removing Jasmara from her bondage, at least, not under circumstances leading to further abuse. But Queen Sylvia had called for her, and the Queen could not be disobeyed. Even with the sun hidden behind a thick screen of clouds it was too bright for her, and she had to squint to shield her eyes from the glare.

Soldiers milled about the courtyard of Altengraf castle, and more lined the walls looking for any sign of her brother's army. As one looked over to see her being led towards the main keep, she noticed the lusty, leering glint in his eyes. They bore a hint of familiarity, and she wondered if he had fucked her. There had been so many during her captivity that she could no longer keep track of the various men who had violated her.

That particularly nasty thought was one that had haunted her much of late. She was by no means a virgin when she was captured, but she could still have counted her lovers on one hand. Jasmara was something of a rarity at her mother's court, more interested in martial training than carnal relations. Despite her gloomy thoughts, she was glad that Daniels didn't say anything as they walked. She much preferred the company of her own thoughts, morose they may be, so the abusive human. Who knew what further revelations he might have for her?

It's funny how we always think of it as my mother's court, not my father's. But then, Turogg wasn't really my father if Daniels is to be believed. The worst part was, it was easy to believe him. Everyone knew Jeanette's proclivities. Of course, it wasn't as bad when Turogg was alive. Maybe I'm just projecting what she is now to what she was then. She tried to reassure herself, but her thoughts rang hollow. People didn't change, not that much. The wantonness must always have been in her.

I wonder what he was like, she thought. Most accounts of the war always paired Gorath with Katerei, the mercenary captain who trained Queen Amelie in the art of war. Both left the Western Kingdoms at the end of the rebellion, disappearing into the March never to be seen again. Is that part of the story? Did they get sent away to protect the secret of my conception?

A delightful aroma pulled her from her thoughts. Her stomach rumbled hungrily as she caught the scent of roasted pork wafting down the narrow stone walls, creating a sensuous corridor of delight. She picked up her, straining at the guards' grasp as she made her way down the hall to find the source of the delightful aroma.

They brought her to a solar, and for a moment she started as Sylvia rose to greet her. The pretender Queen of Heste did look like a younger version of her mother.

"Princess Jasmara, please, sit and share a meal with me." Sylvia smiled and gestured to the chair across from her on the table.

The orc princess wondered what sort of cruel trick this was, but the food was too tempting to pass by. When the other shoe dropped she intended to have a full belly. Her hand snapped forward to grab a fist full of pork from the plate, and without a care for the filth on her hand she shoved it into her mouth and began to devour the meat.

Sylvia watched the display without judgment, her face masked of any reaction. Instead, she turned her attention to her own plate, and began to eat slowly and deliberately as Jasmara had her fill. Her soft hands reached out to break a loaf of bread, and she dipped it into the juices pooling on her plate before taking a bite.

After finishing the meat, Jasmara snatched her goblet off the table, groaning as she drank deeply of the red wine, guzzling it down, swallowing mouthful after mouthful of the nectar. When it drained, she put the goblet back on the table, where one of the serving maids quickly refilled it. Having taken the edge off her hunger and thirst, she realized what shocking table manners she just displayed. Jasmara suppressed the embarrassment, and instead gave Sylvia a defiant look. "Well? What is it you want? Why have you brought me here?"

"I thought you might like to be let out of that cage. If I was mistaken, say so and you can be escorted back."

"It's out of the goodness of your heart, then?" Jasmara countered. "Forgive me if I find that hard to believe. I've yet to see a drop of goodness or decency from anyone in your misbegotten 'Kingdom'."

"War is hard for everyone, Princess-"

"Don't feed me that line, Sylvia! You know what's been done to me! Can you say the same?"

"Your mother gave me to a brothel when I was half your age." Sylvia replied with a frosty edge in her voice and a steely glint in your eyes. "Your brother did things just as humiliating. Except I couldn't fight and call it rape, I had to smile, and acts as if I enjoyed is depredations."

Jasmara's angry retort caught in her throat. She couldn't exactly deny that her brother had abused and humiliated Sylvia. Jasmara had always assumed that the woman did it willingly because she was a harlot, but did they really have that much choice when their clients made demands? Particularly ones like Sylvia, who had been forced into the life?

"You also cannot tell me that your own soldiers have never ravished any women they've captured, can you? War IS hard for everyone, Jasmara. I am sorry that it has gone poorly for you, but you are not the only one who has suffered."

Sylvia's words gave her pause, and she looked at the Hesten queen more warily. After a moment though she relaxed and resumed eating her meal, though this time with the cutlery. "You're right, of course. Thank you for getting me released from that cage." I only wish you had done it sooner, she thought darkly.

"Of course. I hope I can make the remainder of your stay here more pleasant. The war will be resuming soon, and the army will be marching. There is no need for you to go with them. Indeed, it would be much safer to keep you here, out of harms way."

And too far away to be rescued or to attempt an escape, she noted. "That would be wonderful." Jasmara sighed deeply. "To be honest, I just want this war to end, one way or the other."

"It will, soon. Henry doesn't think it will last another campaign season. Too much has happened, the forces are too deeply committed to avoid a decisive battle now."

Jasmara thought that Sylvia's expression suggested she wasn't entirely sure who would come out on top, which was reassuring to her. From everything she had experienced so far it seemed like the human kingdoms were winning. But maybe something has happened elsewhere? I can't be too obvious about my questioning, though..."Do you know if my family is alright? Have you heard any news of them?"

"Your brother Belkor is fine, at least for the moment. Grotok and your nephew are-" Sylvia stopped herself from saying more, and instead finished with, "-still fine. I haven't heard any reports suggesting any member of your family has been harmed."

"My nephew? Which one?" Jasmara wracked her brain, trying to think of which of her nephews would be campaigning with Grotok. Does she mean one of Agmar's bastards?

"Trogar's son, Augras, he-"

"Augras? Augras is dead!" He was lost at sea years ago!" Jasmara spat out angrily. She had been quite fond of her nephew before he left on his exploration of the seas, never to return.

"You didn't hear during your brief escape attempt? Augras has returned, and brought a small army of monsters from the southern continent with him. He, well, it is difficult to explain, and harder to believe. Apparently he learned some sort of magic there, and has used it to great effect. He-" Sylvia stopped herself again, not wanting to give too much away.

Jasmara reeled in show at the revelation. Augras is alive? He's alive! For the first time since her escape she felt a surge of hope and happiness. "H-how is that possible? What do you mean magic?" All of a sudden the wellspring of hope began to dry up. Magic? What is she talking about? Is it a trick?

"I don't fully understand it myself, no one does. But the results are undeniable." Sylvia leaned forward. "I hope that is some comfort to you."

The expression on Sylvia's face confused her for a moment, before Jasmara realized that the Hesten Queen was thinking that Augras was likely to die in the war. With these strange powers there is no way he could be allowed to live. For that matter, I'm not even sure they will let me live when this is all over. For a moment, she thought about reaching across the table and strangling Sylvia right there, though that would be a poor way to repay the woman's hospitality.

If Augras truly does have some sort of magic, and monsters no less, perhaps we'll win this war after all. I just need to stay alive until then. "Thank you, Your Highness." She replied, grudgingly giving Sylvia her title. "It is kind of you to share that news with me, it does-"

The loud blast of a horn interrupted her, followed shortly thereafter by two more. "Your brother's army has been spotted, Princess. Perhaps this will be settled even sooner than we expected."