Orc Dominion: Triumph Ch. 11

"She doesn't deserve the treatment she's getting, she's not a real noble." Daniels complained for what seemed like the hundredth time. Even as the two forces lined up for battle he didn't relent on the issue.

"You did good work, Daniels," Henry responded, "but abusing the Princess is no longer producing results. The orcs learned their lesson and won't make any more tactical mistakes on her behalf. Continuing her mistreatment serves no purpose." The King tore his gaze away from the maneuvering orcs to look at the Queen's former footman. The campaign had been hard on him, even if he had been enjoying Jasmara to relieve it. His beard was already white, but deep lines had formed beneath the ivory whiskers that seemed to be developing into ravines.

"It doesn't need a purpose!" Daniels snarled. "She's an orc, and Jeanette's daughter to boot. She has it coming, the whole family does! Fucking her is a small way of repaying them for the way they've fucked the Kingdom."

"Their reckoning will come when the war is over, but first we have to win it. When your strategy fails, you adapt or get overcome. My Queen's velvet glove may bring greater success than your mailed gauntlet."

"Orcs only understand steel" Black Pete interjected, "I don't know what velvet is, but it sounds too soft to get an orc's attention. You need to show 'em strength, and to teach 'em harsh lessons before the teach you."

Henry glanced at the Catabrian, who also was older with a white beard. But where Daniels was ossifying, Black Pete was like a rock: solid, hard, and eternal. The King didn't like dealing with the Catabrians, but he couldn't deny that they hated the orcs and were willing to fight hard to prove it.

"You cannot paint all the orcs with the same brush," stated Etienne, the new Thestan commander, "they are not all like Augras. We shouldn't give them any excuses for reprisals."

"Hah! You only say that because Grotok's army is in Thesta" Daniels said, "and you don't want them coming down on your people. But they already are, and there's nothing we can do about it."

There's truth to that, Henry thought. "The decision has been made. There's no point in discussing it further." Henry said abruptly. "We have more important issues before us. The orc vanguard will be here soon, and we still don't know where their main body is. Etienne, take the cavalry and screen our flanks. Take a more defensive posture: we won't score a decisive victory with only their vanguard in play and I don't want to risk getting encircled by their main body."

Etienne nodded, "Yes Your Highness" and then road off to follow the orders.

"Daniels, take the Hesten infantry and meet their vanguard and pin it in place. 'Black Pete', use your light infantry to flank the orcs once they're engage. I'll stay back with the Thestan host to engage Belkor if he shows himself. Does everyone understand?"

When the commanders signaled their agreement, he dismissed them to follow their orders before turning back towards the battlefield. His brow furrowed in consternation as he watched the small block of orcs maneuvering into position. Where are the rest of them, and what are they planning?

****

The leather of her cuirass creaked and pinched her breast as she swung off her horse. For some reason it wasn't fitting right today and kept crushing her breasts. There are worse problems to have though, Amelie thought, and it's too late to do anything about it now. The orc rear guard waited for them up the road, lined for battle.

Her mounted troopers could have bypassed them, but she didn't want to leave an enemy in her rear while chasing a larger battle. She did have to push through them quickly though. Amelie had received another letter from Anne bringing bad tidings. Refugees from the orc advance had already reached Orlais. While it wasn't yet putting a strain on the food supply, the increased numbers in the capital would be harder to feed if the orcs arrived and besieged the city before her and the Sandoran army could stop them.

Amelie pushed the image of Anne from her mind. Though she wanted nothing more than to ride home and see her daughter and care for her people, she had to make the tactically and strategically wise decisions, and that meant fighting the orcs here, not going around them.

Besides, I'm the 'Princess-Knight'; I have a reputation to uphold. Sending their rear guard fleeing back into their main force will only increase the fear they have of me. Amelie smiled in grim satisfaction at the heavy infantry arrayed in front of her.

They had half again her numbers, but it wouldn't matter. Nor would the fact that they had heavier armor. Her own troops were elite, hardened veterans and well trained. She knew just how to smash armored ranks, orcs or not. Plus I have my new sword, Amelie thought with a grin as she grasped the blade, I was powerful before, now I'm unstoppable! She shook herself, trying to dispel the overconfidence. Being sure of yourself and your abilities was key in a fight, but never start thinking you're invincible. That's how you get killed.

It took only a minute for her dragoons to be lined up for battle after dismounting from their horses. Amelie Stepped in front and drew her sword, raising it above her head. "On me, wedge formation!" Without waiting, she immediately stepped off, knowing her men would fall in behind her. The sword seemed to thrum in her grasp, as if she could feel it radiating magical power down her arm.

The Mincenntti weapon was heavier than her normal blade, but the strength it granted her more than made up for the increased weight. The blade, her shield, and her armor seemed almost weightless as she marched down the road towards the waiting orcs. They're holding it together well, she noticed, staying in ranks, in formation, not rushing to meet us. Either they've been well trained or have a harsh commander. No matter.

"Wait for my order to launch the javelins!" She called out. "My order, not a signal. Leave them in your quivers until you hear me expressly order you to throw. Understood?" Her high pitched voice carried well down the ranks, and her men cheered in affirmation of the order.

Typical Thestan strategy was to throw them at the beginning of the battle to soften up the enemy, but she didn't think that would be effective against heavy infantry in tight ranks. No, she had something better in mind. Amelie grinned in anticipation, and began moving faster towards the rank of orcs ahead. Amelie was lined up with the middle of their column, and as she approached she could make out the individual orcs. She peered through the ranks until she made out a sergeant exhorting his men to prepare for the coming battle.

She passed her sword to her shield hand, then pulled a javelin from her quiver. The orcs were lined up in a shield wall, braced for the javelin fire but that didn't dissuade her. She took her aim, then flung the javelin forward. The missile flew through the air, brushed against the rim of an orc's shield then slammed through the sergeant's eye socket.

The orc stumbled back and collapsed, and his men growled in anger at the sudden death. The line rippled, but angry shouts from further back in the ranks steadied the orcs and kept them in formation. Amelie tried to pick out which officer was restoring order, but he must have been too far back for her to see. It doesn't matter, it was the front line leader that I needed to take out, and now that's done it's time to shatter them!

"Forward! Thesta!" Amelie cried and began charging forward.

"Princess-Knight! Princess-Knight!" The Falcon Guard chanted as they joined her in the attack.

After she switched her sword back to her main hand, Amelie closed the distance with the nearest orc. He raised his shield to block her attack, so she slightly adjusted her aim as she swung it down. The magical blade impacted the wooden shield with a resounding crack, and then shredded the wood as it cut right through. The orc screamed in pain as the sword cut through his hand.

Amelie quickly drew it back again and thrust past the orc's lowered guard, skewering him through the throat. As the orc gurgled and fell to the earth, she raised her shield to block the attack of the next orc in line. Instead of countering, she slashed to the side, destroying the shield of the orc to her right and allowing her trooper to dispatch the foe.

Then she chopped to the left, severing an orc's arm and releasing a gush of blood. The power of the sword surged through her as she laid waste to her enemies. No wonder Augras wanted this sword! She thought. This is amazing! The thumping of the spear against her shield brought her attention back to the battle. She had barely noticed the orc in the second rank stabbing at her shield. Her increased strength was absorbing the blows almost effortlessly!

Ignoring the screams and sounds of battle around her, Amelie returned her focus to her front. With a speed that shouldn't be possible she swing the sword down and chopped the haft of the spear then swung it back hand, slicing through the leather breastplate and opening up the orc's stomach. His viscera pours out from the wound and he collapsed to the ground but the Princess-Knight paid it no mind: she was intent on finding the lieutenant responsible for the center of the orcs' line.

To either side of her the orc rear guard started to collapse. Her men filled the gaps in the enemy lines and began prying the column apart. Though she had cracked the shell, her men were adept at exploiting a weakness and seizing an opportunity. Her wedge thrust into the wound and began cutting up the orc ranks from the inside. As the tip of the spear, she sank deeper into the formation, cutting a bloody path to the nearest orc officer.

He's young, she noted, but holding it together well. Some nobleman on his first campaign. "...and his last" she muttered as she made her way to him. Despite having fought her way through the orc lines her arms weren't even tired yet. She still felt full of energy, invigorated and ready to put the orcs to flight.

The orc lieutenant saw her coming and realized that killing Amelie was the only thing that would save the rear guard. A smile crossed his lips as he readied his sword: it didn't hurt that it would bring him eternal glory as well. He launched himself at Amelie, keeping his shield up and swinging wide, using his greater range to keep the Princess-Knight at bay.

The swing slammed against her shield, but she held steady and thrust her own sword forward. The magical blade scraped against the surface of the orc's metal shield, but didn't shatter it like it had with the wooden ones. At least now I know it's limitations. The orc was swinging far out to keep her at bay, and it took her a moment to realize what the orc was doing. He thinks he's using his reach, but he's just tiring himself out. She began to feint from side to side, making it look like she was trying to dart in under his guard.

In response, the orc started slashing more wildly from left to right, until finally the powerful blows left him overextended. Amelie was quick to capitalize, feinting right then charging left. She thrust the Mincenntti blade from the side. The tip punched through the chain shirt and the leather breastplate beneath before shattering the orc's rip cage. She continued to push forward, ripping through the orcs torso before twisting the sword and ripping it out violently.

The lieutenant's young eyes went blank as he slumped to the ground. With the death of the officer and the success of her men's assault the center collapsed and began to run. She grinned in triumph, hacking and slashing at the orcs as they ran past, severing tendons and removing limbs. Minutes after the center gave way, the right and left flanks did as well and the orcs were in full retreat.

"Form ranks, line!" She called out and her men moved into a line in response. "Ready javelins...launch!" The first wave of missiles flew through the air, slamming into the relatively unarmored backs of the fleeing orcs. "Ready, launch!" The second wave flew, adding the trail of dead orcs leading away from the battle. Screams filled the air as wounded orcs were left on the field of battle.

"Ready javelins...launch!" The third and final wave of missiles cut down the last stragglers of the rear guard. Maybe a third of their number littered the ground, and the rest were broken, running off to carry the tale of how the Princess-Knight shattered them in under twenty minutes. "Sergeant!" She called out to the nearest Thestan officer, "We're not in a position to take prisoners. Kill the wounded and search that orc lieutenant for any papers. Then have the men drink and rest for an hour before mounting up. We've still got a war to win!"

****

The blinding whiteness was almost overwhelming to Augras, but he persevered and made his way through the nothingness. He focused his thoughts, and flashes of images flew past him as he cut through the light. He tried to look at them, to see them fully but they moved too quickly, and there were too many. The images blurred together, indistinct and just out of reach. He felt a presence though, something that pulled him, reeling him in like an anchor to a boat. Relentlessly it dragged him forward, until finally, one image appeared and stabilized as he rushed towards it. Augras grinned wide as he found himself standing over Amelie, the Queen sleeping in a cot on a field of whiteness and holding the iron sword. He could feel his essence emanating off the sword, calling to him. The black stone decorating the hilt shimmered malevolently as he bent over, lowering himself down to Amelie's forehead, as if peering directly into her mind. Blackness oozed out from the stone, enveloping them both and the world swirled as he plunged into the slumbering Amelie's dream.

****

The leather breastplate creaked as Amelie tried to lift it off over her head, but the worn leather was stuck on her chest. Each time she strained to remove the armor it only rubbed her breasts, stimulating her nipples which were now poking firmly through the cotton tunic beneath. She began to flush and worry that she's was going to need to call one of the guards to assist when a deep rumbling voice interjected,

"Would you like some help with that?"

Amelie gave a start and spun around to see the large half orc looming behind her. "Augras!?" She reached for the hilt of her sword, but it wasn't on her side. She looked around frantically, but somehow there wasn't a weapon in sight. "How did you get in my camp?"

"You know the answer to that." He replied simply as he stepped forward and gripped the armor, lifting it easily, almost tearing it from her body.

She froze in place as the half-orc moved so close and her heart beat furiously as she felt him remove the leather and free her breasts, which bounced about, untamable. A shiver went through her as she felt her nipples slide against his muscular chest, breaking the paralysis that had suddenly afflicted her. "You're not really here...this is a dream, just like all the others." Her deep brown eyes flashed with understanding. "You're doing this! You've been influencing my dreams this whole time!"

"Guilty as charged!" Augras said with a grin.

"Pervert! You're just as bad as the rest of your depraved family! What kind of sick mind would conjure up a kraken that-" Amelie's words faltered, and she was unable to bring herself to speak them aloud.

"Not mine!" Augras proclaimed with a mischievous grin. "I didn't send you any specific dreams. In fact, I've been desperately wondering just what you've been dreaming about. I never would have guessed Kraken! I'm afraid that dirty little fantasy was plucked from your own mind, Amelie."

The Queen of Thesta flushed in shame. That can't be right, he's lying! I could never have come up with something like that! But doubt gnawed at her, and she couldn't help but wonder if he was right. After all, she was fully conscious when she made the decision to fuck the orc prisoner. Perhaps, inside, she truly was as degenerate at the Zentarans.

"I can't control my dreams any more than you can!" She declared, before sagging slightly and slumping forward. "What do you want then? You must have some reason for contacting me."

"I thought it was time we talked. As the leaders of the two opposing sides of this war, we should have a venue for discussing terms and so forth."

"I am the Queen of Thesta, you are the Crown Prince of Deznessuian at best. Are you even still the heir apparent or has your father formally disinherited you?"

Augras ignored the barb and continued to smile serenely at the Queen. "My father isn't particularly relevant. My power is my own, and I don't need any crown or nation to form its foundation." His pleasant smile twisted into an amused grin. "Though when I'm wearing the crown of Thesta at the end of this war I'm sure it will help establish my dominion over the rest of the Western Kingdoms."

"Hah!" Amelie snorted. "Already plotting to turn against your uncles and grandmother? I suppose it's reassuring that if you manage to prevail in this war you'll be immediately plunging the orcs into a civil one."

"Oh I don't think it will come to that, Amelie. Grandmother is getting old, and between you and me she is no longer at her best. As for my uncles, well, Belkor is nothing, and by the time this war is over I'll have quite eclipsed Grotok in the eyes of our people." Augras chuckled softly at Amelie's look of disbelief. "Don't worry, I won't hold your doubt against you. I'm a newcomer, and a young man to boot whereas you've known Grotok for decades. I understand, I do. Still, it will be fun seeing you eat your words."

"You're sure of yourself, I'll give you that." Amelie considered the young man standing before her. That they were having this conversation at all was enough to give her pause, as his magical ability was nothing to be sneered at. Still, fantastic supernatural ability alone didn't make someone a general or a ruler.

"I have to be. You may not believe it Amelie, but we probably agree more than we disagree. The status quo is untenable, but that has been true since my grandmother was first engage to the Duke of Braden all those years ago. I'll be the first to admit that her rule and guidance has not always been the most productive, that the orcs' baser instincts have had a destabilizing influence." Augras paced back and forth as he spoke. "However, it's also been an era of immense prosperity."

"That prosperity could have continued for everyone if Jeanette's ambition led to her casting her gaze on the Catabrian Tribes. It is clear that she will not stop until her children reign on every throne. Her reign has brought more war than any since Andarrion the Thrice-Damned!"

Augras smiled at that, his pointed teeth flashing. "I know my histories, Amelie. Don't pretend that you weren't eager to fight Heste. You wanted to prove yourself and win glory. If anything, that makes you worse than my grandmother. She at least waged war for her family, you did it for yourself." The half-orc held up his hands to placate her objection. "I mean no offense; I truly do not wish to quarrel with you. Clearly my grandmother's ambition has over reached itself. She should never have sacrificed her alliance with you simply to let Agmar rule over the Catabrians."

"Yet here we are. I blame myself for not seeing Jeanette for what she was initially. If I had I would have left her to her own devices!" For the first time in years she thought of Katerei, and wished the warrior woman who trained her was here with her now.