Orc Dominion: Triumph Ch. 13

"What are you going to do when the war is over?"

The question still hurt to think about. Drauken had meant it kindly, to give her a way out of her situation, but she knew there was no way out. "I will return to the March, and give my Chieftain strong sons and fertile daughters."

He had approached her before he departed their camp, looking to extend hope. It was gallant of him, she decided, but not realistic. He had lived his life in a Kingdom with a mixture of orcs and humans, and just doesn't understand what life is like in the human kingdoms. Brigitte's jaw clenched as she stepped around a fallen body. It will be his undoing, but that doesn't mean we can't use him to win this war.

"You've done a brave thing, Your Highness, and you should be proud. You're a hero!" Drauken insisted. "Wouldn't you like to go home again?"

"This is my home now." He just doesn't understand, she thought, he's spent too much time in Zentara. I cannot return home with an orc child. "I pledged myself to Chief Markoz. I am his." Brigitte held up her hand to stall his protest. "I knew I would never return before I left Megdis. This was my choice, Master Drauken."

A scream cut through the night, but only briefly before it was silenced again. In the distance, the ever present din of shouts, clashes, and the hiss of flames continued unabated. Light from the flickering fires mixed with the silvery rays from the moon, unveiling in even greater grisly details the aftermath of Markoz's horde's attack on Trogar's forces.

"If you can't go home, you could come to Zentara, live in Ruar as the royal ambassador. You've lived among orcs, who better to negotiate with them? You don't have to return to the March."

He had seemed so earnest, for a moment he reminded her of her late brother. She pushed that away quickly, before it led to the horror of his dying beneath a castle of rubble. Brigitte had been tempted by Drauken's offer, but only a little. She had no interest in being an ambassador, and despite her experiences knew she wasn't suited for the role of flowery language and false compliments.

"I want to return to the March. I belong to Chief Markoz, and that is my place now."

I am his, and this, this is mine, she thought, looking out upon the flaming ruin that was Shropfordshire. After Trogar had been put to flight the orcs moved quickly to sack the city. Shropfordshire was a trade city, the first major settlement caravans from the March would pass through. It hadn't been threatened in war since Zentara was founded. Even during the First Rebellion when the old Duke of Haverset turned against Jeanette the fighting had never reached the city. It didn't have any defenses to speak of, and most of the Duchy's levies had either joined one of the Royal armies or fought alongside Trogar's forces.

Screams continued to ripple through the night around her, riding the wafts of smoke drifting through the air. They grew louder as she approached Duchess Susannah's manor house, and when she entered the town square the harsh reality of the conflict was laid bare. The bodies of the remaining townsmen were piled in the center, with blood and bile pooling around them in a perverse moat. All around the periphery their women were being defiled, claimed as war prizes by the rampaging orcs.

This is what I have wrought. Brigitte thought of her brother again, and her heart hardened. She continued on, stepping around a young woman and the pack of orcs ravishing her. Further along one of the chiefs was finishing another maiden, and even as the orc's seed gushed from between her legs she tried to cover herself modestly.

A sudden breeze lifted her loincloth, allowing the cool air to caress her own naked sex. A high pitch giggle slipped from her lips as she recognized her own nearly naked state for the first time in weeks. I don't even think of it anymore, she thought, and in time, neither will she.

Brigitte straightened her gaze and focused on the Duchess' manor. Its red doors were splintered and broken open during the initial rush into the building. The lords of Haverset had once had a stout keep that might have offered Susannah succor even as the city burned, but it had long been dismantled, the stone sold off and replaced with a more luxurious manor.

"Alright, Your Highness" Drauken had finally said, "but if it gets to be too much, if you change your mind, send word to me and I will make sure you get home." The orc merchant had left after that, leaving her behind with the horde while he returned to Ruar.

With luck he'll soon have the Queen in custody. She found her chief in the great hall, surrounded by a growing pile of the Duchess' treasure. Susannah herself was with him, looking frazzled and tired, but otherwise unharmed. Her age protects her maybe, or her potential for ransom. Steel glinted in her eyes as she looked at Jeanette's dear friend.

Markoz stood tall beside the Duchess, holding her by the arm and looking every bit the conquering hero. His armor was scarred, but nowhere had it been pierced. His bloody axe sat behind him next to a chest of treasure, a stark contrast to the narrow, jeweled, blade sticking out the top.

"My chief, congratulations on your great victory. The plunder looks to be immense," Brigitte lifted a gold necklace from a chest and rolled it through her fingers before dropping it again, "as I said it would be." Brigitte smiled tightly as Susannah glared at her.

"This is your doing? Who are you, traitor? How could you turn over our city to this horde?"

Brigitte laughed harshly. "The effrontery of a Zentaran to accuse me of that is astounding. I am Brigitte, once Princess of Sandora, now, a slave to Chief Markoz." Brigitte's heard pounded faster as anger and excitement flushed through her body. "And I am paying you in the same coin you've given the rest of the Western Kingdoms."

Susannah paled, but just for a moment before laughing bitterly. "Is this a stratagem to you then? Well, it will gain you nothing. Even the gold and silver you've taken will be returned and the blood too. You may have won here, but your war is already lost."

"I don't think so. Across every Kingdom your armies are reeling. The true King of Heste has defeated Belkor. Trogar has been put to flight, and Grotok is being bled white by the Queen of Thesta. It is only a matter of time before your Queen and her sons collapse."

Silence reigned for a moment, before an even louder laugh erupted from the captive Duchess. "Is that what you believe? How long have you been with these orcs? King Belkor has slipped passed Henry and threatens Dromstadt. Prince Augras' Minotaurs are ravaging the Catabrian Tribes, and listen closely to this, once Princess of Sandora, your army has been destroyed in battle. Prince Augras struck them down with his magic. Now nothing protects the heartland of your Kingdoms."

Brigitte's throat closed at the news. She could see the truth of it written all over Susannah's face. But what of Amelie she wondered. If she is still in the field, the war isn't over. Henry hasn't lost yet either, he defeated them once, he can do it again!

Susannah turned to Markoz, "It is not too late, Chief. Ransom me back to Queen Jeanette, she will pay for me I promise you. Do that and I will ensure that your people aren't hunted through the Angrian March. Once all the Western Kingdoms are united the March will no longer be safe for you."

Brigitte saw a moment's hesitation flicker across Markoz's face and knew she had to act. Without thinking her hand found the hilt of the jeweled dagger and drew it from its sheath. The stiletto blade sunk into Susannah's stomach just below her sternum. The Duchess' eyes widened in shock even as Brigitte stuck her again, and again. Blood coursed over her hand and dripped onto the floor as life drained from the later Duchess. I am no longer a Princess Brigitte thought, I belong to the orcs now.