The Conquered's Choice Pt. 01

"I know!" she interrupted sounding embarrassed,

Vol continued to reassure her, "I admit, she was fair enough, for a plump city-dweller nearing her 4th decade, but she's not a Kelvik, and surely you can't think she's a threat."

"She's pregnant! ...or so they say."

Vol paused. It would be early, but not impossible to be sure. He couldn't help feel a twinge of pride, but stifled it and shrugged again. "Then the child will be a bastard, like any other. You've said yourself you expect I have a handful of them out there."

"I know, but this feels different. You might be king now. She's high-born. More than a Baron's wife would typically be. He had married her for her lineage. She's... the niece of the previous king, I think they had said."

"Even so, no region or law book in the realm could be stretched to consider the child a legitimate heir."

"I know... probably. But now I feel like there will be even more pressure on me to produce... If I'm... When I'm... QUEEN. The word feels so strange, like it has a bizarre taste in my mouth. I love that you're a powerful man, and I find myself dripping with pride that such a man loves me, but the expectations and type of life that comes with that title make me want to run off with you into the hills."

To his shock, she sniffled.

He squeezed her more gently in his arms, and lifted his head, trying to see her face, but she turned away into the mattress.

"I know, Balia," he reassured her. "This is why I was nervous going to the chief's meeting. I'm not sure how much I want it myself, but I can't abandon our Kelviks now, let alone the realm."

They were silent for a few breaths, then Balia spoke, "There are islands, far to the north of our shores, where they say distant cousins of the Kelviks live h-..."

"No. Balia please. Can you really not do this? Do you really wish to return my marriage wreath? Am I not worth it?"

She suddenly stiffened, for several very long silent seconds, and then quickly turned around and kissed him, wrapping her arms around him and holding him close.

"Yes Volren, you're worth it, I'll stay by your side. Please don't leave me for that palace, I'll... be stronger. I'm sorry."

Volren smiled at her tear-stricken face. "Don't be sorry, this is the most honest you've ever been with me I think."

"I don't care, I AM sorry. I hate being like this." she pouted and sniffed, then gradually returned his smile bravely as he kissed her again.

"I'll be your queen. I'll figure out how. I'll fight for you. I'll... bring my bow and knife wherever you go and take down any who oppose you."

Vol laughed and nuzzled into her, though he wished he could be sure how much she was joking. The silence wore on as her sniffling dwindled. He spoke again, thinking to lighten the mood.

"So, who was your final conquest?" he asked with a grin, "Before you stupidly accepted my marriage wreath and gave up ravishing for good?"

She smiled wide. "A tasty young merchant with red hair and a wide chest. He had a short little pouting wife who couldn't convince him to relinquish his goods instead. I loved hearing her sobbing whimpers nearby, as I fucked him delirious, proclaiming his love for me, and begging me to bear his child before I made him spill his seed between my breasts."

Vol raised an eyebrow as she chuckled.

"The men of the countryside will weep, knowing your raiding parties will defeat them no more," he said.

She laughed and squeezed him affectionately again, relaxing with a satisfied sigh, running her hands through his hair, and holding his face against her.

"I love you Vol," she whispered sleepily.

"I love you too Balia, he replied.

He went to sleep breathing in the earthy scent of her chest as it rose and fell against him. He felt for the first time that day that everything might turn out alright.

* * * * *

"Arch-Chieftain?... Volren?" the soldier called out doubtfully from the other end of the tent, letting the morning light in as he entered hesitantly.

Balia suddenly sat up, throwing off the covers to reveal her naked sweating body, Vol's rigid cock in her hands as she rode his face.

The soldier gasped, "OH! I'm so sorry I'll-..."

"The Arch-Chieftain is busy." Balia replied breathlessly. It shouldn't be too much longer though. AH! Wait outside a few minutes. OH! Vol!"

She plunged her mouth back over his cock as the soldier left quickly. Vol dug his fingers into her firm muscular ass and grunted as he felt her tongue and lips delight his cock again.

She had woken him up by playing with his morning erection and she wasn't about to let it go to waste. Their long tanned bodes rolled to the side as one, and she clasped her solid thighs around his head to trap him in her hot sopping loins. He had just enough room to breathe as his face was soaked with her juices and he devotedly licked and prodded with his tongue.

Their moans grew more desperate and violent and they shook against each other, slapping and digging their nails into each other's taught flesh. Their arms flexed strongly to pull themselves together as tightly as they could.

She came first, soaking his face further and almost drowning him in her sexual release. He felt the vibration of her voice on his cock in a close-mouthed screech. She squeezed his cock almost painfully tight with one hand and tried to squeeze her fingers all the way through the muscles of his ass with the other. He bucked uncontrollably and his powerful bellow was muffled into her wet depths as he came, shooting his load into her voracious mouth. He relaxed in bliss, sucking in air and feeling her amazing tongue tantalize his cock as she cleaned it thoroughly. They lay catching their breaths, as he placed kisses along her thighs and she gave fond bites along his.

Finally she spoke, "Well, duty calls Arch-Chieftain."

He groaned and reluctantly stood up. "What was the name of that island you were talking about?"

She laughed and flicked his half-erect cock as she sat up. "Don't tempt me Vol, I've had too many fantasies of tying you up and kidnapping you."

He flinched away and laughed, but as she stood up and looked at him more seriously, he gave her a warm smile and their arms embraced with their naked bodies sliding together caringly.

"You were right Vol," she said. "Kelvia needs you. Get out there and win this war."

Finally dressed and ready, she gave him one last pinch on his ass and left his tent with a playful wink. He sat down at his desk with a satisfied, optimistic sigh and called the soldier in.

"Good morning, sorry for the wait," Vol said, recognizing the man. "You're one of the Alanari that joined us recently right? I apologize your name escapes me."

"Yes, not a problem sir. It's Cleffrim, or just Clef if you like." the soldier said, with an appreciative smile. "I bring news though. Somewhat urgent."

Vol frowned, "Good or bad?"

"It... remains to be seen I suppose. The King demands a meeting outside the city gates at high noon. His messenger awaits your reply as we speak."

Vol shook his head, "DEMANDS does he?" "That's too soon, I'll need to discuss things with the chiefs first. Tell him I will meet him at mid-afternoon."

The soldier hesitated. "I... permission to speak freely sir?"

Vol smiled and shook his head, "That's not how we do things here Clef, you're always free to speak your mind, as long as your intentions are for our good."

"Thank you sir. It..." he hesitated, still looking nervous, "It's my opinion that the king will refuse."

Vol raised an eyebrow.

"I worked in the palace most of my career until I was transferred out to support the army a few months ago. I know the King's personality well, and... if you really do wish to speak with him, it'll have to be noon or not at all. I'm honestly surprised he offered, he must have some tactic in mind."

Vol sighed and set his jaw, looking at Clef and thinking.

"Fine. Thank you Clef. Send word that I will meet him at noon, with a small bodyguard, just out of archer range of the walls, and that I look forward to reaching a peaceful agreement."

"Very good sir," Clef nodded, and turned to leave.

"How does it feel attacking your home city with an invading force?" Vol said casually, stopping Clef in his tracks.

Clef turned and gulped, thinking for a moment. Then replied, "Delvor might be the worst King this realm has ever seen, at least the worst in many generations. Almost anyone would be better. I admit I held no fondness for Groldur, but he would have ruled more justly, and you... are starting to give me hope."

"What of your brethren within the city? The soldiers you fought with?" Vol asked.

"Will they all be slaughtered?" Clef asked uncomfortably.

"Not if I can help it," Vol replied. "But war is always uncertain."

Clef nodded, "That's as much as I could hope. Thank you sir."

"Clef," Vol said before he could leave again. "Do you have errands after this?"

"Not yet sir, but I'm sure Leagwin will find s-..."

"Tell the chiefs I will meet with them in one hour so we can discuss what we might be prepared to offer the King. Then come straight back here. If you say you know the King and his palace well, then I think a longer conversation with you might be invaluable to me."

"Of course sir, I'd be honoured to help," Clef said with a smile.

Vol nodded and gestured for him to leave, looking at his map of Alanaris and sighing.

* * * * *

Vol's eyes went wide as he pulled a large mouthful of meat off the bone in his hand, "Even his top generals?"

Clef nodded, "His ego knows no bounds. One was demoted after pleading for his life, for having made a change in the king's orders, even though it had saved the lives of half his army and avoided complete devastation."

Vol shook his head as he chewed, leaning back in his chair to reach a cloth.

"Insecure at his impotence no doubt," Vol muttered.

"No sir, I wouldn't say impotent," Clef corrected.

"He's produced no heir in eight years. It could be the Queen's fault, but you said there was no rumour of a single bastard at any point."

"Well yes, I suppose I'm being pedantic, but I would say 'sterile', not impotent per se. At least as of eight years ago when he married Queen Zarina. In Alanaris any nobleman's wedding night, and especially the King's is a... public affair. Anyone in the palace courtyard saw that he could at least... do the deed."

Vol raised his eyebrows, "I thought that was a myth." He shook his head. "In some ways you Alanari seem much more prim and proper, and in other ways..."

Clef shrugged, "It's tradition."

"And what of her? I admit I haven't heard much," Vol said. "Buns?" he offered Clef his plate.

"What? Oh, no thank you," Clef replied politely. "Queen Zarina? Well, she's extremely beautiful, the stories aren't exaggerating. People questioned why he married her when he took power. He hadn't really known her well or for very long, and she's relatively low-born, the daughter of a prominent and influential merchant, but still. Anyway, they always stop questioning as soon as they lay eyes on her."

Vol rolled his eyes, "Yes sure, but I mean what type of person is she? Just a vapid beauty to trot around on his arm then, or do I need to worry about her?"

"Oh no, King Delvor WISHES that's all she would be, but Zarina's quite cunning. She's carved out an impressive bit of influence within the palace and even the realm over the years, despite his best efforts. She's beloved by the people, partly due to her modest upbringing, but also through her deeds. She's shrewd politically behind closed doors, but the changes she's been able to slip past the king have all been for the good of the people, and they know it. Honestly, this reign might have collapsed much earlier than this, if not for her."

Vol was surprised. "Hmm. Potential ally then? She sounds like she might be a decent person."

Clef shrugged doubtfully, "Compared to the king at least. He was always our main source of fear, but I wouldn't want to get on Zarina's bad side either."

"If she's so contrary to him I wonder why he keeps her around?" Vol thought offhandedly as he sipped his mug."

"Many people ask that question, ...and then they meet her," Clef said.

"What of his generals then?" Vol asked. "There should be two top men left if I recall?"

"Yes. General Quorn and General Lemmik. Quorn has been around the longest, and is definitely the better general. He's stone-faced and stern, but follows the law, the rules of the military, and the Kings order's, to rote, and in that order, much to Delvor's chagrin sometimes. I don't think he has any love for the King but his job is a general of Alanaris, and he will not sway from his duty."

"And General Lemmik?"

"Lemmik probably has slightly more power and influence right now, but he's only earned it through boot-licking the King his whole career. He almost approaches Delvor himself in his capacity for lying if it suits his needs. I wouldn't underestimate him though. He has found a way to survive in the ranks despite being loathed by most other generals and lieutenants."

"All good to know," Vol said thoughtfully, cleaning the juice from his plate with the remains of his bread.

"Is that all then sir?" Clef asked.

Vol hesitated and then asked, "You've lived in Alanaris your whole life?"

"Most of it. I spent my early years in a town just southwest of here."

"Have you ever come across a young woman by the name of Zea? She would be someone with an education. The daughter of a nobleman perhaps?"

Clef thought to himself, "The name sounds strangely familiar, but I can't think of where or when I might have heard it. I could ask around a-..."

"No! No please, don't go repeating the name, forget I mentioned it. That's... that's an order."

"S-...sure. As you say Arch-Chieftain."

"Thank you Clef, this was all very worthwhile, but I better try to get this chief's meeting going early, we don't have much time to spare," Vol said, wiping his face and standing up. "I need to give them at least some opportunity to voice their opinion before I barter away the realm," he said crassly.

"Yes sir," Clef said with a salute and a proud tight smile, trotting off.

Vol put on his studded leather armour and the Arch-Chieftain's chain around his neck. He took a deep breath, looked out the tent flap with determination, and stepped out to face the day.

* * * * *

The wind whipped Volren's hair across his face and he shifted to keep it clear. He stood tall and silent as King Delvor and his retinue trod towards him along the packed earth away from the main city gate. Vol stood in front of his entourage of five other chiefs and twenty or so warriors, both men and women, with Balia among them.

The overcast sky and the wind made the day unseasonably cool, but not cold. He still had no excuse to be sweating as much as he was. He remembered all he had accomplished so far. He remembered those who followed him and trusted him; Crolsef, Balia, the whole army. What he found relaxed him the most though, was thinking of Zea.

As they approached Vol studied the king's face, rigid and scowling. He was half-bald, with black short-cropped hair speckled with grey and a pointed beard to match. His eyes were narrow and dark. He was stocky and short but not abnormally so, clearly not a mighty warrior, but likely to have been trained in combat and perhaps could hold his own. He reminded himself that words were their weapons now, and he could not be sure how they would be matched.

His two generals flanking him on either side were adorned in brilliant shining blue, but likely very functional, armour. He guessed the one on his right was Quorn, older and taller with an unreadable face. Lemmik on the left had a pale slightly pudgy face but stood solid. His mouth slightly twisted in what looked like a derogatory smirk as his eyes scanned over Volren's followers.

Off to one side was a golden-haired young woman in a dark blue, almost black dress, under a matching light cloak with a fur shawl. Queen Zarina, he was sure.

Behind them was a contingent of fifty or so soldiers, including archers, which made Vol uneasy, but he decided the king was likely not foolish enough to risk his own life out here by attacking him.

He found his eyes drifting back to the queen of their own accord. Clef had not been lying, that was for sure. The closer she came to him the more details of her figure he was able to notice. The sway of her wide hips had a subtle sexual flavour. The dark blue dress was not that close-fitting but the wind whipped the thin fabric back, pulling it against her body, and outlining the contour of her legs and the curving waist of her hour-glass figure. Her large bosom protruded proudly, half-covered by the fur shawl, with a neckline low enough to tease a few inches of pale pristine cleavage under a sparkling sapphire necklace. Her face was flawless. Symmetrical and well defined, but with delicate features, and the sapphire necklace matched her striking eyes - that were looking straight at him.

He looked away and pretended to scan the rest of the approaching line. The king seemed to be doing the same, almost disinterested in Volren. Vol eventually looked back to see that her intense, blue-green eyes had not stopped staring at him.

The King finally stopped twenty feet away, clearly having no intention of shaking hands.

"So..." King Delvor spoke in a low cutting voice, finally bringing his eyes to Volren. "This is the green unfortunate kelp boy they've convinced to play Arch-Chieftain. After you take the fall for them, and carry the blame for your doomed little rebellion, which of them will jump for the chain afterwards, I wonder?"

Vol kept his face flat. "I am Volren, son of Vothil. Former first-warrior of the Kelviks and yes, Arch-Chieftain. I have slain your champion Feldig, and convinced half your Realm to follow me instead of you, far more easily than one w-..."

"Yes, yes slayer of the this and that, and winner of the local shit-kicking competition I'm sure. Are you that pitifully stupid to think the dukes and barons follow you out of respect? I don't know what promises you sold them, but surely you can imagine why a naive agreeable boy they can manipulate and use, would serve their selfish interests more than a competent King that keeps them under control?" Delvor said with a mocking sneer.

Volren flexed his muscles under his armor in rage, but stayed still and worked to keep his voice calm. "A King with no support from his regions and people is no King at all, what do you have left that could possibly justify your title?"

"The Crown! The Throne! And the Right!" Delvor sputtered in sudden rage. "If you think you have the capacity and the competence to take them from me then you are even more of a joke than you appear!"

Volren smirked in satisfaction at seeing him lose his cool. "Yes... what a joke this all appears to be. Go ahead and laugh at the size of this army at your gates, laugh at the men and women of your realm eager to bleed and die to be rid of you. At the soldiers of your defeated army who chose to fight with us against you, rather than be granted the right to flee, who now betray your secrets. Laugh at the paltry force that remains behind your walls-...."

"You know NOTHING of my forces!" the king shouted in red-faced rage. "You are ignorant of more than you could imagine. Of the forces from the remaining regions coming to slaughter whatever warriors are left after you starve on this plain, and I wait comfortably in my well-supplied city. Of Conduran reinforcements that you THINK are coming to join you, but come instead to attack you from the rear!"

Vol let the king stew for a moment, and watched his eyes trying to read Vol's face.

"Have you walked all the way out here only to throw insults and baseless threats at me? I know many of your decisions are suspect, but this seems like an especially impractical use of your time and effort."