Roderick and Gorlana Pt. 02

"You are under my command and I am under hers. It is that simple Traulch," she said. "Did you refer to yourself as Champion? I will have to reprimand six different scouts and all of our other informants for their false report of you retreating from the Andralians in defeat."

"Their General is DEAD!" Traulch growled petulantly. "And they themselves retreated back to the Southern traitors after we had gone. The human rats may squeak whatever false victory they see in that."

"General Follander died in the battle?" she asked, knowing he didn't.

He squinted his eyes in frustration, "No. In the night, like the rat he is."

"By one of your Orcs, like the spider he is. Why do your soldiers gloat when clearly only HE was the one to win any 'victory'," she said, sounding disgusted to even use the word.

"He is with the Gods, smirking down on your stubborn stifling 'honour', the human rats use assassins all the time. Why should we not?"

"So you would be a rat like them?"

He lurched forward at her and three Orcs around her stepped forward with swords drawn even more quickly than she could flinch.

Traulch gave them the side eye and resumed his too-casual stance, "We do whatever is necessary, and stretch however we need to, to see Orthalia prevail. Just as you yourself have done, with your human tactics, that come so naturally to you."

She took a half step forward, but stopped herself, softening her rage and twisting it in her mind into manipulation, "Poor words for one who desires favour with his General," she took a sauntering step forward now, holding his eyes, inches from him. "More suited for one to sit and stink alone in frustration in their tent for the remainder of their nights."

He gave a husky horking laugh, "Have I not proven myself worthy of you? Must I go defeat another army for you, and challenge the whole of your Southern Orthalian traitors before taking on the challenge of bringing you to Rutt?"

"Perhaps." She said coyly. "Though for now your Queen demands we stay patient, and reinforce our holds. There will be no further thrusts to the south."

He snarled in disappointment, "You simply sit, and you... THINK. It's all you're good for."

She reached out and grabbed him by the leather covering his balls, pulling him closer, breathing again his scent of attraction, "I'm good for much more than that and you know it. Sit, and wait, and you'll get what we agreed upon. Stir, like an impatient child and you will be left to the other clans to drive you back north as they wish."

He gave her a look that seemed confused with both offence and desire. Just as she wanted.

"As you command, my... General," he said, his confidence finally breaking and stepping back as she let go of his crotch.

He turned and joined his warriors who were milling about the hold, that seemed balanced on a rumbling uncomfortable knife-point.

She breathed the smell of him out of her nostrils and paced in the other direction, telling herself that it was to her benefit that she was starting to return the scent to a small degree. He wouldn't be convinced otherwise. She was doing what she must, whatever was necessary, she told herself again and again, hating that those words sounded so much less convincing coming from his mouth a minute ago.

She had been given little choice, she still believed. The Rechlinger clan had seemed poised to start another civil war, with the Queen's forces distracted to the south. Gorlana had anticipated it before it materialized though, and met with them. Now, instead of fighting two wars on two fronts, she had turned them to their advantage, using herself as bait. An implied promise to Traulch that would eventually need to be fulfilled. It was fine, she told herself. She used whatever tools she had for the sake of her aunt on the throne. For Orthalia. Yet it still felt like she was betraying something. ...or perhaps someone.

Roderick was dead under the mountain stones... so what other use for her womanhood- No! She stopped her thoughts. Even were he alive it wouldn't matter. She would still do this. He was never truly her mate. Never truly her love... She closed her eyes and shook her head at the lie as she entered her quarters, finally alone. She breathed out again, but she would never be able to exhale that man's scent from her memory.

She cursed him, for the painful weight he had left her burdened with, seemingly for a lifetime. Cursed him as one of the enemy. Cursed herself for never being able to believe it.

...

1 Month Later,

The towering walls of Andrapolis loomed over Roderick and his retinue, which had grown this morning, after an escort of royal guards had met them at the edges of the surrounding villages that formed the suburbs to the huge capital city. They finally passed under the portcullis and into the city proper to respectful nods and a few 'here here's from the guards at the gates. The main street had not been cleared out before them officially for any type of procession, but the citizens quickly realized it was someone of importance, and a few of them knew who, and they all parted respectfully. A few small cheers went up, shouting Roderick's name in jubilation, but, like the guards' reaction, it was dampened from what it might have been, and Roderick was sure he knew why.

He had brought twenty men with him. Fifteen humans, ...and five orcs. He knew they likely weren't the first orcs to have entered the city, but he was sure they were the first to ride through in such a procession. He hoped Korboq and his 4 clansmen behind him were following his instructions of riding tall with decorum and unresponding to whatever jeers might come their way. To be fair, however, the people were only faltering slightly in their cries of support and their smiles waning to gawking uncertainty, which was far better than Roderick expected. A few children pointing and yelling before their mothers shushed them were inevitable. Overall though, Roderick was impressed. There was offence on some faces for sure, but it was suffered silently, and more than a few held a type of curious but respectful wonder at the tall green allied orcs as they rode past.

Get used to it, he told them in his mind, hoping the palace's response would be similar. He felt like he could hope for no better. He also felt like he had needed to make this statement though.

As they trotted on, he took in the grandeur of the city again, seeing it for the first time in years. Though, he noticed the tarnished edges a little more this time. Between the tall buildings and full markets were evidence of some decay, both physical and human, not entirely swept into the alleyways and hidden behind the otherwise rich facade of the main thoroughfare. The frayed edges faded though as they climbed the mild slope of the street up towards the palace, with the richer noble houses and well-dressed gentleman and ladies dominating the street. Some gave much more overt looks of disapproval now at his orcish contingent, but still thankfully stayed mostly silent.

The palace's white and yellow walls and the spires that seemed to tickle the clouds above them finally loomed directly in front of them and they stopped briefly, being announced more as a formality than for any practical purpose, and the gate was lowered for them to enter.

He heard a couple of low-pitched gasps and muttered orcish profanity from his green friends behind him as they rode, almost as if through a portal, into a rich flawless courtyard that made the noble houses behind them seem like the rickety outer villages. This was now further than Roderick had ever been, only having been once to the army barracks on the other side of the palace, and he too was impressed. He suddenly felt poorly dressed. Despite having made sure he and the others had bathed and cleaned the dirt off their armour last night at the inn, he felt like a lost brigand as he rode up to the head palace guard and his almost blindingly polished armour. They dismounted and their horses were taken diligently the by servants. The wide stairs to the main palace rose behind the welcoming party.

"General Roderick. It is an honour to greet you," a man in fine livery stepped forward. "Welcome to Andrapolis. I am Navarin, head chamberlain to the palace. I will see to it that you and your men are fully and completely taken care of. Please ask of me any questions or requests you might have during your stay. We are honoured to host a hero such as yourself, though I must say you have brought more ... men than we expected."

Roderick bowed and replied, "An honour to be here Navarin. I hope you and your King will know that ALL who stand before you are heroes of the war. I brought men who represented the army that defended the realm, and that includes our orcish allies, whom I trust will be treated with the same respect as my other men." Roderick stayed stone-faced but gave a slight intensity to his eyes as he addressed the elephant in the room.

He needed no scent to see the discomfort behind the chamberlain's wide polite smile but his response was appropriate enough.

"Of course. Of course, heroes one and all. Though I hope it will be satisfactory that they be lodged in the army barracks, - in their own private rooms of course, as perhaps they would be more comfortable there than the trappings of the palace, - while you spend your time with the royal highnesses."

Roderick wasn't going to argue but looked over at his lieutenant who gave a calm nod, Korboq and the others seemed to look relieved rather than insulted, eyeing the looming stairs to the glittering palace with nervousness.

"Excellent. Then I will have my servants show them the way. If you would not mind following me into the palace."

The chamberlain turned and Roderick said an awkward goodbye to his men as they were led off in the other direction around to the side gate, and he trudged up the long wide staircase behind the chamberlain.

"I have not had time to ready myself to meet with his highness," Roderick said, again feeling self-conscious of his garb."

"Actually it will be Princess Valessa with whom you will be meeting. She left explicit instructions for you to be brought to her immediately upon your arrival,"

"Right, I recall the letter mentioned her name instead the King's," Roderick said.

"King Rheume has not been in the most excellent of health recently I'm afraid. Another tragic stroke has left him less able-bodied and less talkative than even before. Though his wits are still sharp as ever I assure you, and all major decisions are brought to his attention, his physical handicaps have made it a matter of practicality for the Princess to be looking after most matters herself, and thus hone her for her future rule."

"I see," Roderick said, feeling no less nervous. He wasn't sure a young inexperienced princess would be necessarily easier to deal with than an old stodgy king.

They walked through a grand chandeliered antechamber and took a short turn through a hallway until Roderick was shown into an alcove before two large doors.

"Here we are. Would you like a beverage while you wait for her highness?"

"I thought she wanted to see me right away?"

"Well of course but she is currently in a meeting, and may be a short while."

"How long?" Roderick asked.

The man's smile seemed slightly offended that it should matter, "Oh no more than a half hour likely. An hour at the most I'm sure. Always impossible to predict how much talk will go on in a meeting."

"I... this water will be fine," Roderick said, seeing the pitcher on the ornate table next to a chair he was almost afraid to sit down in.

"As you wish," Navarin said and quickly turned to leave.

Roderick sighed and sat down gingerly, taking in the complicated patterns of the wallpaper, a portrait of a dead nobleman he didn't recognize, and a tapestry of an ancient battle, and within minutes he was bored beyond his wits.

Of course the water was more refreshing than anything he'd ever tasted. He wondered if they added something to it. With nothing else to do but sip and stew over what he might have to say to these royals, before long he was needing to relieve himself. He tried to look through the crack in the chamber doors to tell if someone might be about to come fetch him, but he couldn't see or hear anything. He decided if this princess had told him to hurry up and wait, she herself could stand to wait a few minutes for him to go to the washroom if the timing was unfortunate.

He stuck his head out into the empty hallway.

"Hello?" his voice echoed down the hallway along with the clack of his heels on the marble floor. He shrugged and set off to the left, hoping he came across either a sign or a person that could point him in the right direction. He found neither however, before the hallway turned again and he continued cautiously, realizing how easily he could get lost in a place like this. After another couple of turns and long hallways he finally found a timid servant with a duster who stuttered out directions to the nearest lavatory which was further on down the hall. The man skittered off before Roderick could ask if there was one back nearer to where he had come from.

He finally found it and breathed a sigh of relief. His nerves took a turn for the worse seconds later when he saw his travel-worn face and hair in the immaculate mirror, and after washing his face and playing hopelessly with his slightly dishevelled hair, let out another sigh of resignation and stepped out into the hallway again.

He peered farther off out of curiosity, and was about to turn back, when he stopped short seeing what lay beyond the half-open door at the far end of the hallway.

Books. An entire wall of books. The library! Roderick thought to himself.

It was one of the things he had been excited to see when he found out he was coming to the palace. He could only imagine the number of tomes on battle tactics and war history there must be in there. He had read the few he had gotten his hands on over the years but knew there was so much more to know.

He knew he should be getting back to the princess' antechamber, but he stubbornly walked quickly towards the room, telling himself he would just take a glimpse and make sure he remembered where it was.

He knocked softly and said a soft "hello," but when there was no response he continued to push the half-open door and stepped inside.

The room was smaller than he thought, though still larger than many "libraries" he'd seen in some mid-sized towns or some larger fancier inns in the cities. The walls were covered in books top to bottom, except for one covered in diagrams and posters, one with the human body and its innards labelled with incomprehensible words and Roderick raised his eyebrows and shuddered, being reminded of battlefield carnage.

There was a desk in the center of the room with scattered papers, pens and odd measuring devices, and Roderick started to wonder whether this was in fact a library or simply the largest office he'd ever seen.

He got his answer as soon as the thought hit him, when a gasp sounded behind him.

"Oh for-... excuse me who are you, and what are you doing in my office?"

Roderick spun and faced a balding man in a brown robe carrying 4 heavy books and a satchel underneath a spectacled face wrinkled with a frown. Roderick saw the garb and realized the man must be a Sage. A high ranking one likely.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude, I-"

"Didn't mean to intrude? If you're a messenger from the lieutenant, you wait OUTSIDE my office. I don't know what he would want of me but he could do me the respect of sending someone other than a new private who doesn't know proper etiquette. Not that any of you lot know th-"

"No I'm not a messenger. I'm sorry I thought this was the library when I saw the books, I was only here a moment before I realized,"

"The library... is its own building across from the east wing. How would you not know-..." the man harrumphed, "What would a soldier want from the library anyway?"

"I'm not from here. I'm not in the garrison. I just arrived from Fringeland. I was hoping to find some books on warfare. Tactics, history and the like."

The Sage squinted suspiciously and finally seemed to take in Roderick, looking him up and down. "Are you sure?... You weren't looking to find an anatomy textbook and steal the pages on female mammaries?"

Roderick gave a confused frown and a short scoff, "No. Look I've read Bernshard's Battalions and Gerholt's Stages of War but only the first volume. I've heard there's three in total, and... if I haven't offended you too much with my intrusion I'd certainly appreciate your recommendation on any others."

The man seemed to stare like a befuddled statue for a long moment, then muttered, "Gracious Gods maybe there is some hope for the forces after all. So you fancy yourself a future general do you? Good. Though your commanding officers probably would get annoyed at your 'independent thought' if you've already read those two I'd say your a cut above the fold already."

Roderick decided to keep his mouth shut and let the man think what he would, while he watched him turn to the wall of books. The man started examining the titles, quickly adopting a very practised professorly air of a Sage.

"Understanding battlefield tactics is one thing, but really it is just an extension of the core of being a general or any leader really. Just as a king does not govern wagons plows or looms, a general does not command swords and spears. He commands-..."

"People," Roderick said.

The Sage stopped with an open mouth, evidently having paused only for dramatic effect. He gave Roderick a satisfied nod though and shook his head, "I've given that lecture dozens of times at our college and those damned spoiled brat students never once answered that fast." He pulled out a book and continued running his finger along the shelf looking for another. "The two books you've read are more than enough for any General to know the core of tactics. Anything more specific ends up being too situational to be of any real use. What you need, young man, is to know the minds of the people, and the minds of the rulers. Politics, sociology, and economics, both macro and micro..." He pulled another book out of the shelf and then plopped them both in Roderick's hands with a satisfied nod.

"Politics and what?" Roderick asked.

"Socio - how the common men and women interact, and why. Also how they interact with those above them, and vice versa. If I had you as a student I would start you into Psychology but I doubt you have the free time to get that deep into it."

Roderick ignored the other new term he didn't know and asked, "Do you have anything like that for... Orcish peoples?"

The Sage cocked his head and looked him over again for a long moment, then slowly gave an almost mischievous grin. "I do. But not in my palace office. If you have the time to come visit me over at the college which is just across the promenade from the 'actual' library, I could find you one or two, though the accuracy of the scholarship is always debated. It's a topic lacking in quality research I'm afraid."

"Thank you, I... I may do that if I have time." Roderick said with a grateful smile, getting more than he'd bargained for from the mishap.

The man looked at Roderick's hands holding the books and gave him a more interested smile, "So you're one of General Roderick's men. The first mixed army. I was quite inspired by the news and even more so by their successes. You look like you'd fit right in... And although I respect your desire to know more of the Orthalian society, I think perhaps I might be able to learn more from you than you from me, if we sat down for a longer talk." The Sage said with a very implicating tone, raising an eyebrow.