Orc Dominion: Triumph Ch. 18

"No doubt you'll ferret out the truth soon enough, Dorian, but I wouldn't spend too much time on it. Aunt Jasmara doesn't pose a threat to the Western Kingdoms. I suppose we should go next down the line of succession: that's you, isn't it Uncle Vilknar?" Augras grinned at the Royal Treasurer. "I nominate Prince Vilknar for the throne."

Silence settled around the table as everyone considered the notion. Vilknar had served loyally and competently for many years, but wasn't seen as being particularly ambitious. He too often opposed his mother's excesses, and wasn't known to fawn over her as the rest of the children. It made him something of an outsider in the family, which made him ideal for Augras' purposes. Putting him on the throne would remove a talented servant from Jeanette while creating a peer who would be at least neutral to him and Jeanette.

"Princess Jasmara is a renowned warrior and commander. She sacrificed much during the war, and had the endorsement of Queen Jeanette," Dorian said, "she did not receive the offer by virtue of her position in the line of succession."

Vilknar bristled at the apparent dismissal. "I have better managed the Kingdom's finances for years, in extremely trying circumstances. Besides, if not me, who? Frenok or Dolnog? Their insipid, decrepit dilettantes. Griselda? You might as well crown her husband. I am the only qualified candidate left."

"No decision should be made without mother" Belkor insisted.

Augras was waiting for this. "She suffered an apoplexy: she's not in the right frame of mind to contribute to such a decision. We need to install someone now and solidify our grip on the Kingdom. The last thing we need is to appear weak or indecisive. Vilknar is the best choice." Augras flashed what he thought was a winning smile to Vilknar, but the punctilious prince only looked back warily.

After a moment Vilknar broke his gaze from Augras and glared around the table. "King Augras is correct, we need to settle this now. Mother is in no condition to make this decision, and if we're all being honest she wasn't even before the apoplexy. Can anyone here can provide a real objection to my assuming the throne?" After a moment of silence passed with no one being able to offer an objection he continued, "Then it's settled. Moving on, Belkor, how is the hunt for the remaining enemy forces in Heste progressing?"

After another moment of silence, Belkor finally replied, "The Hestens have either fled with Henry or lain down their arms. The Thestans are hiding in the mountains, looking for goat tracks that will lead them back home."

"They're welcome to, assuming they'll agree to a parole. They're no danger without Amelie leading them. What about the Catabrians?" Augras asked.

Belkor glowered at Augras. "Trapped between my men and the minotaurs." The Hesten King's voice got harder, "They would be finished by now if your allies were cooperating. One of my patrols pursued a group of them into the hills and those Abyss spawned beasts killed the Catabrians and my men alike!"

"They're a territorial people. Believe me, I know. I'd suggest leaving them to their Hills. I certainly intend to from my side. You'll have to keep a garrison in the region anyway to enforce your rule in the territory of the old norther lords. Just step up patrols and before too long they'll have whittled away to nothing."

"Don't tell me how to run my Kingdom!" Belkor snarled. "Perhaps you should focus on eliminating the rebellious Dukes in the West!"

"They will fall in time. Until such a time as Queen Jeanette recovers, my forces will continue to besiege their castles" Augras replied smoothly. In truth they were Zentaran levies that belonged to Jeanette, but as he inherited them upon Grotok's death and Jeanette was in no position to contest his control he decided to reinforce his claim.

"Perhaps your mincenntti sorceress can speed things along" Dorian interjected, "though you would have to summon her from Orlous. Is she not well enough to travel?"

"Marishka is gone" Augras said simply. "Her destiny has been fulfilled." Augras let that sit for a moment, and then smiled and placed his hands on the table as he rose. "Well, I think that concludes our business for the day. Congratulations, King Vilknar. I look forward to working with you in the future."

****

It was unreal being back home. Growing up it had seemed so small and confining. Jasmara had itched and chafed to break free, see the world, and explore. She had even considered sailing off with Augras when he left all those years ago, but decided against it. Jasmara didn't want to insert herself into her young nephew's expedition.

After her captivity the castle seemed humungous, with wide, open spaces. Here she could stretch out, walk tall, and be whatever or whomever she wanted. Yet I still can't wait to leave. How could they have thought I would want to be Queen? Jasmara didn't intend to stay in Zentara long, and certainly didn't want to become Queen of Sandora. As soon as she spoke to her mother she intended to catch the first ship out of the harbor and head to the Eastern Kingdoms to find Katerei and ask about her father.

As she crossed the courtyard a statue of Turogg stared down at her accusingly. She paused beneath its shadow and looked up for a moment, before continuing on her way. Jasmara didn't mean to minimize the effect Turogg had on her life. He had been a father to her, after all, at least until he passed. Thankfully he didn't live to know that she wasn't his daughter by blood.

The Queen's solar was not like she remembered. Jasmara hadn't been allowed inside when she was younger, but naturally that only made her want to see it more. The suite had been a maze of silk, velvet, and leather. Now it was all stripped bare. Jasmara stopped short at the sight of Queen Jeanette. Her mother looked different than she remembered. Age, dissolute living, and finally the shock of losing a second son had taken a dreadful toll on her. The apoplexy had wasted the left side of her face, which now dropped and caused her speech to slur. Jeanette's behavior had been growing increasingly erratic over the years, and from the warnings that the servants had given her it had only grown worse since the attack.

The shock had almost been enough to melt her resolve, to replace the anger and disgust she felt with pity. Instead, it ultimately reminded her that Grotok was dead. Killed because her mother allowed Agmar to start a war with Amelie. A war that saw her tortured and raped. A war that saw Amelie cast down to humiliations and depravities almost as terrible as the ones she had endured.

"Jasmara? Is that you? Come closer!" Jeanette asked, squinting and trying to lean forward from her position propped up on the bed.

"It's me, mother" she replied, keeping her voice even. The sense of dread increased with every step that brought her closer to her mother's bed. But the steely resolve that she felt before battle filled her now. It's not that different really; just another type of fight. "I'm back."

"How are you feeling? Was it terrible? Of course it was. I told those idiots to rescue you and they failed. Who was the one who did it to you? I'll make sure they're punished. Everything they did to you will be done to them! Who was it? Not Henry, that sanctimonious prick wouldn't do it, so who was it?"

"Daniels" Jasmara gritted out, "but don't worry about retribution, mother, I've taken care of it myself."

"I should hope so! Daniels, that treacherous cur! I always knew there was something wrong with him. When I first met him-"

"Is Turogg really my father?"

For a moment Jasmara thought Jeanette was going to have another apoplexy and for a moment she felt guilty, but finally the Queen managed to stutter out, "Of course he is! He was a noble orc, a great warrior! Who would I cheat on him with?"

"Gorath? The mercenary captain that Amelie hired for you during the Second Heste War?" Jasmara's voice quivered just a bit as she struggled to keep her anger under control. Jeanette looked like she was going to have another apoplexy, but this time Jasmara didn't feel bad at all. She didn't even wait for her mother to respond: the truth was written on her face. "Goodbye, mother."

"I...Jasmara, I didn't give you leave to depart! Come back here! I am the Queen! Jasmara!"

Jasmara ignored it and left the room, and the castle, and the city. It was time to put the Western Kingdoms and their petty wars behind her. It was time to start a new life.

****

"What happened to my son? How did Grotok perish in a victorious battle against a foe you outnumbered 10 to 1?"

Jeanette's slurred voice was softer than he'd ever heard it. The tenor that commanded armies in her youth had lost its edge, and not just from her illness. Grief had taken its toll, grief for her sons, grief for her friend, grief for what had become of a once happy family.

"He challenged Amelie to single-combat. It was noble, really. He wanted to spare her from the indignity of life as a slave." Augras watched his grandmother carefully, taking in every detail. The slightly drooping side of her face, the rashes on her skin, even down to her wrinkles and gray hair. Jeanette didn't look like she was enjoying the fruits of their victory. I wanted to crush her, to get back at her for tricking me into falling in love with Bernadette all those years ago so she could spy on me. But as he thought about Bernadette, and at Jeanette's sad state, it just didn't seem worth it anymore. Not compared to the ghosts he still saw stalking him in the streets.

"Amelie killed my son, and you let her live?" Jeanette beckoned him closer with a trembling hand. "Why does she still live?"

Augras stepped closer, bending down closer to her. "Because Grotok was right, of course. Death would be preferable to life as my slave-general." Augras didn't really believe that of course, but it was what she wanted to hear.

"It's still too good for her. She should die screaming" Jeanette grumbled and settled against her pillow. "I heard that you paraded her through the city. That you made her suck off her own subjects and fuck a centaur in a public square."

"That's true. It forever destroyed her people's image of her. She's no longer the Princess-Knight. Now she's just another whore. Not like her daughter Anne, who is a lady of great grace and respectability. In public, anyway." Augras laughed softly.

"Hmph. Amelie rejected every betrothal attempt we made for Anne. Thought she was too good for my children. Now she's married to my grandson!"

"Yes she is. You should be proud, grandmother. Your blood sits on every throne in the Western Kingdoms." Propped up by the bones of thousands. "It is just unfortunate how many had to give their lives for your dream to come to pass."

Jeanette flinched, and then smacked her lips as she folded her trembling hands. "Blood now brings us peace in the future."

"I think that is the one thing we agree on, Grandmother. It is time to build a better, peaceful future." The time for petty revenge is over. Queen Jeanette doesn't matter anymore, and I am first among the Kings of the Western Kingdoms. I can ensure that the violence of this war doesn't happen again. Perhaps the restless spirits will find rest in peace. "Rest now, Your Highness. I hope you feel better."

****

The small settlement was coming close to completion, or at least, the first phase of it was. A long hall had been erected, as well as numerous pens, stalls, and stables. The beginnings of a market were taking shape, and construction on a manor house was well underway. The sound of it was keeping the baby awake, and Brigitte's back ached from constantly carrying the large child around. Her nipples ached from nursing the child back to sleep each time the pounding hammers woke her.

Brigitte didn't mind though. It was all part of being a mother, and she had many more years of it to look forward to. Little Amara was to be the first of many, she hoped. The beginning of a dynasty that would one day reclaim her reclaim her homeland. She would breed many strong sons and daughters, and their sons would all be raised here in the new trading station built with the wealth plundered from Zentara.

"She's hungry today" Markoz remarked as he stroked the back of Amara's head.

"Like her father. She is going to conquer the March when she's older." Brigitte cooed and kissed the baby's forehead.

Markoz made a sound, but didn't protest further. He indulged Brigitte in a lot, but didn't put much stock in her ideas for the role women should play in orc society. "Her brothers and sons will build a new empire here. The Western orcs need to consolidate their Kingdoms, but eventually they will expand into the March. When they do, they'll find more than they bargained for."

"It may happen sooner than that. Several tribes have already been hit."

"Reprisals. They should have come deeper into the Badlands like we did." Markoz replied.

Zentara had launched several small scale raids into the Angrian March, attacking any tribe they could find. Markoz had warned them that it would happen, but once the horde disbanded they weren't obligated to follow him anymore. Most had agreed with Markoz though and traveled further into the March. They had plundered all they could from the West and sought to build new fortunes further east.

"While we don't have to deal with that, we still have our own troubles. The black orcs are not taking us building a new trade post lightly." Brigitte said. The trade routes through the Angrian March were well established, and by building a new outpost they were taking trade from existing settlements. Fighting had already broken out between the black orcs native to the region and their own tribe.

"I should hope not" Markoz laughed, "I might have agreed to found a trading post as a more stable home, but I'm not ready to turn merchant just yet. I still have a few more fights left in me and the orcs here make just as good a target as any."

"More gold and treasure than you'll ever know what to do with and you still want to crush skulls!" Brigitte sighed in exasperation and turned her attention to Amara, "You're going to be better than that, aren't you darling?"

Markoz just laughed. "If you want our grandchildren to take Sandora back one day they'll have to bash more than a few heads in. What is it humans say, 'violence begets violence'? If you want your grandchildren to be warriors, they will need fathers who are warriors. And those warriors will need experience with blood and combat."

"They'll need gold, weapons, and armor that wasn't stolen from someone else. Industry, economy, and organization. All the things they'll get from an established settlement and trading outpost."

"Then it's a good thing I have you to take care of all that while I teach our sons how to fight."

"We do get on well together" Brigitte smiled and stepped out of the hall to watch the construction. "And even if they never do reconquer Sandora, we'll build something better for them here."

Codex Entry On the History of the Kingdom of Angria: In the 186^th year of the Age of the Orc Dominion, King Orogoth of Sandora established a foothold in the Angrian March and began using his magic to transform the arid grassland into fertile farmland in order to expand his Kingdom, which was the smallest of the Western Kingdoms. While initially successful in transforming the terrain, his efforts were quickly disrupted by orc raiders led by Gogoth, who claimed to be the descendent of Princess Brigitte and the true heir to the Kingdom of Sandora.

Despite the advantage of sorcery, Gogoth led a successful guerilla campaign against Sandora by assassinating his wizards and harrying his supply lines. While Gogoth ultimately did not reclaim the throne of Sandora, he did achieve recognition of the new Kingdom of Angria from Emperor Visidian. Gogoth's tactics changed warfare in the Western Kingdoms, as first seen in the Battle of Lemongrass where...

****

The warm sun streamed down on her face for the first time in a week. The rain had seemed endless while the uncharacteristically violent spring storm battered their galley, and more than once Sylvia despaired and thought their ship would surely go down. The sky had gone as dark as the Abyss, but they had made it through the maelstrom.

"Is the storm really over?" Henry the younger asked. He managed to suppress the quiver in his voice, but Sylvia noticed the whiteness in his knuckles as he gripped the side of the ship.

"This one is, yes. There may be more before we reach the Eastern Kingdoms."

"Because I read that if you travel into the middle of a storm it gets calm, but as you keep going you run into it again." This time Henry's voice betrayed his fear. The boy had been valiantly trying to be a brave young Prince and a rock for his mother and brother to lean on during their voyage. But he was still young, not even a squire yet.

"This isn't the eye of the storm, Henry, it is well and truly over."

"How long will we have to wait for father once we arrive in the Eastern Kingdoms?" James, her other son, asked.

"His ship won't be long behind us" Sylvia replied with an edge in her voice. Henry wasn't well enough to travel when their ship departed, but he insisted they leave. Belkor's army was in hot pursuit and Henry didn't want to risk them getting caught. The doctor said that Henry had needed as much time as possible before traveling, even if only a few extra days.

Sylvia hadn't liked the sound of that at all. If it wasn't safe for him to travel with them it wouldn't be safe to travel in the days it would take before the orcs arrived. The doctor wouldn't give them odds on his chance of surviving the trip, but she knew it wasn't good. All she could do was hope, hope for the best.

"It will be nice to be back home" James said, with a simplicity that suddenly struck her.

The Eastern Kingdoms were more a home to him than Heste was. Even more so for the younger Henry. They could go back to their old lives from before the war. They had enough gold, and if it were invested wisely they could live comfortably. The younger Henry would never be King, and Jeanette would never get what the comeuppance she deserved, but at least her children would be safe and could be happy.

If Henry made it too, it would be enough.

Codex Entry on the Ousten Family: ...the Ousten family has never overtly returned to the Kingdom of Heste, but a number of pretenders have cropped up in the intervening years. To a one they have all been petty bandits and pirates, but they have kept the legend of the Ousten family alive, and even now in the human villages they speak of the day that the Ousten family will return to reclaim Heste from the orcs.

****

6 Months Later

Anne groaned in spite of herself as Amelie rubbed her swollen feet. She was only doing this for her mother, or at least, that's what she told herself. The life of submission that Amelie was subjected to had corrupted her completely. The former Queen was perpetually horny, needy, and submissive. She only managed to get herself together enough to lead an army because Augras commanded her to, and she loved following orders. Anne shifted on the edge of the couch, her silk robe falling open to reveal her naked body underneath.

"How does that feel, Mistress?" Amelie cooed as she worked her strong fingers into Amelie's foot, kneading the sides and back to her tendon. Amelie looked up at Anne from her knees, passed her daughter's swollen belly to her soft heart shaped face framed by her light brown hair. Anne's breasts were beginning to swell with pregnancy, but they were nowhere close to Amelie's own enlarged melons. "My feet would get so sore when I was pregnant with you."