Queen Yavara Ch. 13

Hi Tiger. You look different. The message said, but it really said, 'goodbye.'

I walked through village, where scores of men, women and children lay dead or wounded. The cries of the bereaved sang from every corner, but the loss of one would sting this tribe the hardest. I knelt at the corpse of Sherok, her body pierced with a dozen arrows. My tears fell onto her face as I cradled her broken body. The haft that stuck into her eye was a Nadi arrow. How long had Adarian watched the two of us? How long did he contemplate between me and Sherok before letting the arrow fly? I knew the only reason I was still alive was because of his mercy. It would be the last time I was extended the courtesy. A hand clamped down on my shoulder. I looked up at an orc male, his body covered in flesh wounds.

"Elena, you saved us."

"Not all of us." I mumbled, "Brock will never forgive me for this."

"No," said the orc as he brought me to my feet, "we will tell Brock of what you've done. His village would be burned, and his tribe scattered if it weren't for you."

I just nodded. "Someone needs to send him a message."

"We will send him an eagle tomorrow." The orc said as he lifted Sherok's corpse from the ground, "He is preparing himself for battle against Cermonok today, and must not be distracted."

BROCK

Trenok stood behind me at the wooden gates of the Protaki compound. The guards looked down at the seven of us, their crossbows aimed.

"Brock," one of them said, "you've got some balls coming here. Cermonok would probably reward me for killing you as you are."

I threw the elk carcass from my back, the customary offering for peaceful passage.

"The other clans would descend upon you if you killed a tribe leader at your gates." I growled, "Especially after giving his due."

"Why are you here?"

"The Dark Queen as returned. I am here to ensure the Protaki answer the call."

The orc eyed the seven of us warily. "Cermonok has banned weapons within the compound. If you wish to enter, you must agree to a search."

"What kind of chieftain disarms his own people?!" I demanded, "Are you citizens or prisoners?"

"I just aim the crossbow, Brock." The guard said disinterestedly, "Do you agree to the terms?"

Trenok leaned into me and whispered, "A disarmed tribe? The Protaki aren't worth our time."

"They used to be ferocious." I muttered, staring at the orcs above us, "They'll remember with the right leadership. Besides, Certiok is supposed to be the hottest piece of ass this side of the Knife River, and you need a wife."

"A political marriage?" Trenok gave me a quizzical smile, "You've changed."

"I'm just trying to get you laid."

"I've never had any problems."

"Are you saying no to me, boy?" I asked with raised eyebrows.

Trenok stared at me for a long time. Then he tossed his axe onto the ground, and undid his knife belt. "We'll revisit this later, old man."

After the rest of us had disarmed, the gates opened, and we walked through. I eyed the villagers as I passed them. They were small for orcs, with hardly an ounce of meat on any of them. I wondered if Trenok was right, that the once-proud Protaki were neutered to the point of ruination, but then I saw the hate-filled gazes they gave the Terdini interlopers, and I knew there was some spirit left in their wasted bodies. I came upon the center of the compound. It was bustling with activity, orcs moving about their business, selling meager wares and flesh alike. This was the place. I slapped my hands against my chest and roared the Terdini war cry. The compound went silent as a graveyard, all eyes fixed on me.

"Cermonok!" I screamed, "Cermonok, come out and face me!"

There was a pregnant pause, then a deep voice roared out from the hut to my left. "Brock Terdini is that you?" Cermonok emerged from his hut. He was lean and corded with muscle, his shiny pate braided in a horseshoe, its peak not even reaching my chin. His face was contorted in rage. "Brock of the fucking Terdini. I suppose I don't need to ask why you're here." Cermonok said as he paced around me.

"I have conditions." I growled.

"You don't get to offer conditions." Cermonok sneered, "You've challenged me on my home turf. We play by my rules here."

"Is that so?" I gestured over my shoulder, "Do you see those men on the hill? Those are the five chieftains of the Northern Pines. They have come to ensure you don't fall back on your tricks."

Cermonok glanced at the hilltop. I didn't actually have time to gather five chieftains, and was instead relying on Zander's magic to manufacture their silhouettes. One raised a fist in salute, and Cermonok returned it with a snarl. "What are your conditions, Terdini?"

"We fight in your pit tomorrow morning. As is custom, I will prepare myself in the challenger's hut the night before. I do not trust you not to kill me during the night, so I demand an exchange of hostages."

"That's why you brought Trenok, huh?" Cermonok said as he eyed my son, "You're a big boy now, Trenok. After I kill your father, you'll have a place in my vanguard."

"After my father kills you, I will take your daughter as my wife." Trenok sneered, "I've heard she's quite the beauty; I wonder how she'll look on her belly."

"Certiok will be my hostage, Cermonok." I cut in before the two orcs came to blows, "An heir for an heir is a fair deal."

I could tell Cermonok hated the idea, but he knew it was fair. He couldn't afford to look weak before his entire village. He spat on the ground. "Certiok! Come out here girl!"

A young she-orc parted the curtains of the nearby hut, and strode confidently into the square. Certiok's beauty was not exaggerated. Her skin was pale green and unblemished, her eyes were big and round, and her face was adorned with high cheekbones and a strong jaw line. Her braided hair hung over her muscular shoulders and outlined her ample breasts, which pillowed against the leather strap that barely contained them. Her toned torso ended before bodacious glutes and thick thighs, and she walked with the purpose of a woman who was used to getting what she wanted. And her eyes were filled with Trenok, her full lips quirking to present her tusks.

"Brock of the Terdini?" Certiok looked to me, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Brock has challenged me for the clan, and demands a hostage. You are to be that hostage." Cermonok growled.

"Am I? How exciting." Certiok giggled, then pointed to Trenok. "And who is this? Can I be his hostage?"

"No," Cermonok growled, "Trenok is my hostage, and when I kill his father, you're not to be near him. I might have to castrate him before you get any ideas."

"Get any ideas?" Trenok laughed, and pulled down his loin cloth, "Do you think her still a maiden, old fool? Anyone with eyes can see that your daughter has a very good idea of what to do with a man."

Certiok's eyes widened. "It's unlawful to conceal weapons in the compound, Trenok of the Terdini. The penalty is death. But don't worry," she gave Trenok a furtive look, "I know a place where you can hide it."

Cermonok growled and shoved Certiok forward. Trenok walked past her, the two exchanging hungry eyes and smiles. Three Protaki took my son by the arms, and bound his wrists behind his back. He gave me a reassuring nod as he was guided to a nearby hut.

"We don't have to bind you, do we Certiok?" I asked her.

"You can if you want." She said, smiling deviously up at me.

"Brock!" Cermonok roared, "If you touch her, your son will dangle from his entrails!"

"You keep her locked up all day, Cermonok," I grinned as I pushed Certiok to the side, "it's no wonder she is the way she is. Relax old man, she won't be touched."

Cermonok gave me a hate-filled look, then pounded his chest, and screamed the Protaki war cry. "Tribesmen!" Cermonok yelled to his people, "Brock Terdini has challenged me in open combat for control of the Protaki tribe! Tomorrow I will bury my blade in his chest, and the day after, I will bury my cock in his wife!"

The townspeople cheered all around us, the Protaki war cry singing from every mouth. But none dared hurl insults at my turned back, nor even look at me with anything more than familiar contempt. For they knew in their heart of hearts what I knew, and deep down, what Cermonok knew as well. The Protaki chieftain was still in good shape, but he wasn't the warrior he used to be. He'd grown complacent, and had starved his tribe to avoid a strong internal challenger. His people might cheer him now, but they secretly yearned for new leadership. Even his own daughter saw his weakness.

That night, I prepared myself in the challenger's hut. I drew a thin cut on my forearm where I would brand the Protaki mark beneath the Terdini scar. All chieftains branded the tribes they ruled on their forearms. Some chieftains had to move down to their calves, they ruled over such armies. The Terdini and Protaki were lesser clans, but our combined strength could push us into the higher echelons of power. The path to Froktora was clear; I just needed to walk it. Cermonok was the first step. If I was surefooted, I would stand beside Queen Yavara with an army of one-hundred-thousand at my command.

The next morning, I stepped onto the sands of the pit, the crowd roaring their hatred at me. Cermonok encouraged them, waving his arms wildly, running along the stands and beating his chest. I'd never seen a more desperate display of ferocity. He circled around me before stopping, his chest heaving. "Are you ready to die Brock?"

"Shall we?" I growled.

Cermonok dropped into his stance, and the crowd hushed, their silence filled with tension. Cermonok made the first move, a wide step to the left. I pivoted my heels in the sand and waited for his attack. He circled me, forcing me to change positions as I closed my defenses. His stance was wide and threatening, his muscles tensing and relaxing as he feigned attacks.

"When I'm done with Sherok, I will let every man in the village have her!" Cermonok sneered, "Or what's left of her, anyway."

"I will feed you your tongue before you die." I said calmly.

"And I will feed Sherok yours, Brock. On a platter next to your dismembered cock!"

"You can keep talking if you want, dead man. All you're doing is giving me ideas."

"Your wit is almost as slow as you are." Cermonok began a circular dance of footwork, "Trading words with you will leave me a poorer man." He advanced like lightning, striking a blow to my ribs. The crowd cheered, and I grunted, maintaining my stance stubbornly. Another shot, this one wrapping around my back and hitting my kidney. I grimaced, but did not falter. Cermonok danced back, his body like a coiled serpent.

"I hope Sherok puts up more of a fight than you." He teased. I didn't respond, but watched his footwork, finding the pattern in his movements. Cermonok pivoted on his heel and whipped his leg around. I blocked the blow with my forearm, then spun in anticipation of the next. Stars exploded in my vision, a concussive bell ran in my skull, and I twisted in the air. His other foot had whipped around and struck me squarely in the jaw. I hit the ground, and he was on me in an instant, his fists, knees and feet punishing my head as I held my arms up defensively. And then it happened. A wild foot came crashing down onto my face, cracking my teeth, splitting my lip against my tusk. My hand clamped around it. I had him. I squeezed until the bones snapped. Cermonok bellowed and fell, kicking and clawing to free himself. I methodically dragged him, savoring the desperation in his movements, the horror in his eyes. He tried to wrench his leg free, and I snapped his tibia over my knee. His shriek split the air as he thrashed like a trapped dog, tearing the muscle and sinew in his leg with the jagged end of his bone, no longer concerned with the limb, only survival. I never gave him the chance. I dragged him up my body until his head was within reach. He scratched and clawed at my face neck, leaving deep lines and contusions across my cheeks and lips. I ignored the pain, and pulled his neck under my elbow, locking his head in place. By the look in his eyes, I could tell he knew it was finished. But it wasn't over, no; I'd made him a promise. I gripped his jaw and tore it free from his head, the tendons stringing from his neck, his throat exposed. His eyes rolled back, bulging and rupturing veins with pressure, turning the whites red. I grabbed his waggling tongue, ripped it from the gash in in his face, then forced it down the yawning hole in his throat. His esophagus burst around my fist, and his screams turned to a gurgle as black blood bubbled around my wrist. My fingers found his spine, and with a grip and rip, I ended Cermonok's suffering. The crowd was silent.

I stood up, spitting blood and teeth. "Is there anyone here who would challenge me?!" I roared. No one did. "Then hail me as your chieftain, and share in my glory!" They stayed silent for a moment. No doubt they'd thought I'd be a tyrant, and no words I could say would dissuade them. But I'd shown strength and brutality, and there are few things orcs love more than a brutal display of strength. The crown began to murmur. The murmurs rose to chatter, then to cheers. They chanted my name as I stood atop the corpse of their former chieftain, his blood soaking the sand, forgotten.

"Blacksmith," I roared, "Bring me your iron!"

The blacksmith walked over with the branding iron, the metal white with heat. I held out my arm and roared my victory cry as my skin melted. This would not be the last time this happened, I knew it in my bones. My flesh would be scorched with my victories from wrists to ankles. I gave a succinct speech to the Protaki, then ordered them to burn the compound to the ground. The Bend was no longer their home. It was obvious that it hadn't been for some time, for the Protaki destroyed with the relish of people born to violence. Yes, they were still the Protaki. Malnourished, soft and frail, but fierce and wild.

When the compound was a smoldering smudge on the horizon, and the Protaki exodus was halfway to the Gorge, an eagle screeched overhead. It landed on my proffered arm, and I took the message from its talons. After reading it, I folded it gingerly, and put in my vest pocket.

"News from back home?" Trenok asked, Certiok on his arm. There was grief in her face, but she hid it well. I wasn't sure if I had the same strength.

"There was an elven raid, and it was repelled." I said, ducking to shadow my expression, "Thirty-five dead, forty-three wounded."

"On a raid? Without you or I to lead the counterattack?" Trenok's expression was grave and perplexed, "It must've been a dawn-elf troop; it couldn't have been imperials."

"It was Adarian's own contingent. Fifty of his best, of which only twenty-six left with their lives." I said, "It seems our resident ranger has proven her worth tenfold."

"Adarian's own company? Defeated in their own ambush?" Trenok laughed, clapping me on the back, "We will hold a feast then! It is a day of two victories!"

"Yes." I forced a smile, "It is a day we will remember for all time." I didn't have the courage to tell him then. In the morning I would, but that night's grief would be mine to bear alone. I held it within me like a weight, and only when I was alone in my tent in the waning hours of the night did I let it go, falling to my knees as tears fell from my eyes. I would have my vengeance. Yavara could not deny me this. His name was carved across the canvas of my mind, written over every memory of her. Adarian. Adarian. Adarian. There is a kind of magic in hatred that pure. For I knew in the confines of my darkness, that Adarian's destiny and mine were married, and its divorce would be the death of one of us.

YAVARA

"Good King Dreus, I have pondered the offer of our mutual acquaintance, and see the merits in it. My host will arrive at your gates at the hour of dusk to procure the sum of your loan. Myself and two of my brethren must be allowed into your hall to inspect the currency before we can reach an agreement. My host will remain under your protection outside of your gates. Unfortunately, our mutual acquaintance has left the city due to inclement circumstances. Rest assured that she is hale, and half a day's ride on route to her destination. Best wishes to you and your kingdom, Titus. I'm not sure how King Dreus is going to feel about a procession of two hundred vampires to his palace gates." Titus said as he looked at me, "And if I tell him you're already out of the city, he's just going to think I killed you, and am now trying to steal his gold. He won't let me in."

"King Dreus will be alarmed, but curious," Prestira said, "and he's smart enough to decipher what's really going on."

"Would your sister actually kill you in King Dreus' own court?" Titus asked me, "That's damn near a declaration of war."

"Leveria will stop at nothing to kill me. I don't trust a single man to remain loyal to King Dreus when the price on my head is that high."

Titus looked at the wanted posters in his hands. The signs had been nailed to every street corner in the city. The city watch had taken them down as fast as they could, but the word was already out: five-hundred-thousand gold pieces for the death of Yavara "Alkandi" Tiadoa, a quarter of a million for Prestira, Zander or Brock. I needed to leave the city now.

"I can see how this would tempt even the most loyal of subjects." Titus murmured, "Alright my queen, we'll go with your plan. You'll both need to dress the part, so get out of those priestess robes and grab one of mine."

Prestira and I got out of our disguises and put on the vampire robes. They were black, with a large hood and a pull-down mask that covered the entire face and neck. Long black gloves were also part of the outfit. When the whole thing was on, not a single piece of flesh was left uncovered.

"You can take off the masks, we don't wear them when the sun is down." Titus said, "Having two of our cohort concealing their faces while the rest don't will draw suspicion, so you'll need to transform before we go there. Make sure you eat."

Prestira and I walked to the four prisoners. They were in relatively high spirits for condemned captives, laughing and giggling to each other on the floor. They were broken things, succumbed to the horror of their situation, indulging mindlessly in the sexual delights of a vampire's predation. Their necks were pocked with teeth marks, as were their breasts, thighs, and backsides. When Prestira and I approached them, they opened their legs with half-lidded eyes and expectant smiles.

"Hi Delicious." I smiled down at the girl Titus has named.

"My queen." Delicious slid languorously onto her back, presenting her throat and body with equal hopefulness. I mounted her about the waist, and placated her desire with an expert hand between her legs. She moaned delectably, closing her eyes and tilting her neck.

I leaned in, and whispered, "Tonight, you are going to be loaded into the cargo hold of Titus's ship. Before the anchor is pulled, your shackles will break. Jump out of the porthole, and swim for the docks. No one will pursue you. Tap my shoulder if you understand."

There was a pause, then I felt a trepid finger tap my left shoulder. I smiled against her ear. "I'm going to drink from you now, OK?"

"Please." She whispered back, dancing lecherously to the whim of my fingers. I flexed the muscle in my brain and transformed. I was immediately consumed by the hunger, and I sank my fangs into the girl's necks. She let out a gasp as I pulled the blood from her, arching from the floor as she derived sexual arousal from my feeding. Prestira transformed and drank from another girl. When we had our fill, we stood and took a moment to bask in the feeling of vampirism.