Tuesday, July 17, 2018

Triumph Chapter 10

In honor of the blog being reactivated, here is a sneak peek at Chapter 10.  It is fully done, and just missing some editing on the final scene.  It wasn't everything I hoped it would be, but at the end I needed to just finish it and move on.  Plenty of ideas for reworking it though when I come back to rewrite the series :)

****


A thick haze of smoky incense wafted out from the large hut as Markoz and Brigitte approached.  The walls were made of thick timber beams, which was unusual for orc structures in the Angrian March.  Probably stolen from Sandora or Thesta, she thought.  Most of the unusual things found in the March could be explained that way. 

That proper building materials and techniques were used was an indication of the wealth and stature of the hut’s inhabitant.  It had taken a lot of cajoling, but Brigitte had finally convinced Markoz to move forward with her plan.  The first step was to call a conclave of all the remaining tribes, but while Markoz was a powerful and respected warrior, he didn’t have the authority or gravitas to summon the other tribal chiefs.

There was one orc who did have the influence, but it wouldn’t be easy to convince him to do it.  Jogarth was a mighty chieftain in his prime, and it was his defeat of Turogg that had stopped the King’s consolidation of the orc tribes, at least long enough for Turogg to get intertwined with Jeanette and the politics of the Western Kingdoms.

Jogarth’s victory won the acclaim of all the orcs remaining in the Angrian March, and there was no other orc more respected.  But in the years since his victory, the orc champion had grown old and fat.   Brigitte trembled at the sight of his bulbous, corpulent flesh as she waded through the haze of incense and approached the orc’s throne.

As she got close she had to restrain herself from coughing as she took in Jogarth’s stench.  The incense was doubtless meant to suppress his odor, but the closer they got the harder it became.  The former princess wondered how the women arrayed on either side of him could stand it.

But I suppose you get used to it, after a while.

“Markoz, welcome!”  Jogarth exclaimed, his face lighting up with delight.  “It’s been too long since a warrior of your stature graced my hall.”  The obese orc reached down to stroke the dark hair of one of the women seated to his side.  “Can I offer you the service of one of my women?”  He asked as his gaze shifted to Brigitte, leering at the young woman.

“In time perhaps, great Jogarth,but there will be time for women later.  Now is the time to talk of battle and riches!”  Markoz replied amiably.  Brigitte couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or not, but was sure Jogarth was used to such flattery regardless.

“Hah!  Battles and riches?  It’s been over a decade since I handed control of my tribe to my son.  My days of chasing battles are over, and I have riches aplenty.  Only women remain to comfort me and keep me warm in my twilight.”  Jogarth’s lips twisted into a nasty grin as he leaned forward.  “Speaking of, is this the pretty morsel I’ve heard so much of?  The human princess?” 

Brigitte shivered beneath the old orc’s lecherous gaze.  Her scant clothing did little to hide her curves, especially since Jogarth made no effort to hide his intentions, but boldly leaned forward to look inside her vest at the curves of her breasts.  She wanted to scold him, but knew that would be a mistake:  for the moment she had to let Markoz do the talking.

“It is: my little Brigitte.”  Markoz slipped his hand beneath her loincloth and groped her rear affectionately.  With his other hand he pulled back her vest to expose the Princess’ breasts to Jogarth.

Taking it as in invitation, the older orc reached forward to grasp one in each hand.  The rough, calloused grey hands squeezed her milky flesh, testing their heft and firmness.  His fingers, still strong despite his advanced years and physical deterioration, sought out her nipples and pressed around the nubs.  He twisted the rings piercing them back and forth, then grinned lecherously as the nubs sprung to life beneath his touch.

“Very nice, very responsive.”

Brigitte suppressed a shudder as the repulsive orc fondled her breasts.  She pressed her ass back against Markoz’s fondling hand for support as she bit her tongue to prevent herself from snapping at the old orc.  Talking about me like I’m not here, She fumed.  Remember why you’re here, remember Megdis and father.  I can put up with this for them.  It took everything she had to keep silent, but she knew that it still wasn’t the right time to speak, not if she wanted to bring Jogarth around to calling for a conclave.

 “She’s proving to be quite the little gem.  In addition to being a spirited, passionate concubine she’s also a font of information on targets to raid.”  Sensing her discomfort, Markoz placed his other hand on her shoulder to steady her.  He gave it a squeeze as his other hand continued to massage her bare bottom beneath the loincloth.

“Yes yes, but is she fertile?” Jogarth asked as he released one tit to stroke Brigitte’s cheek.

“I think so, though it is still a little too early to tell.  We should find out soon enough, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, Chief.”  Brigitte replied, looking past Jogarth to the orc’s concubines standing on either side of his chair.  Her eyes fell on an olive skinned girl from the Eastern Kingdoms who was looking at Markoz longingly.  I can’t blame her, compared to Jogarth I’m happy to serve Markoz!

“Oh?  When was the last time you bled, girl?”  Jogarth asked as he gave Brigitte’s tit a final slap and sat back on his chair.

“Three weeks ago, Chief.”  She replied baldly.  While most women might be offended at the invasive question, Brigitte took it in stride.  It was just a natural bodily function, after all. However, thinking about it did send her stomach a flutter.  I was at my most fertile when all this started.  I could be with child right now.

“So, fertile for your initiation, hmm?  How exciting.  I hope things didn’t get out of hand.”  Jogarth snickered as he reached out with both hands to touch the women at his sides.

“Not in my camp, Jogarth.  None would dare.  They know me, and they fear me.  Plus, they know I have a scent for victory and have always led them well.  Like the opportunity little Brigitte here has presented to me; some leaders would pass it by or ignore her, but I sensed the potential for great wealth and triumph.”

“Hah hah hah!”  Jogarth laughed from his belly.  “You’re not going to let it go, are you Markoz?  Very well, very well.  Tell me what you came here to say, and then maybe we can get back to discussing your lost princess.”

“We’ve all seen how raiding isn’t what it used to be.  The Thestan and Sandoran lands within easy reach of the March have been largely depopulated.  All the best treasure was looted long ago, and the young women have all been taken or fled.  There is very little worth fighting for, or risking the wrath of Amelie as Grogosh did.  So instead, we turn on each other.”

“True true, so what do you propose?  A deeper strike into Thesta while the Princess-Knight is distracted by war?”

“We could, but there aren’t any tempting targets in range.  Not like there is in Zentara.  Haverset is just across the border on well known and well traveled routes. The men are all away for the war, so it sits undefended, filled to the brim with centuries of treasure taxed from our ancestors.”

Jogarth steepled his fingers as he thought.  “What will you do with all that treasure if you can’t use it for anything?  Haverset is the only place we can go to sell off our gains, or trade it for livestock and tools.”

“We have other merchants to sell to, orc merchants.  There are plenty of men, great leaders such as yourself, with outposts in the March.  You’ll be happy to take our plunder and sell it on the eastern caravans.  Think of the fortune you could make!  Plus, by looking towards the eastern markets you’ll open up new opportunities to acquire more of their women, like that beauty behind you.”  Markoz leaned forward with a predatory grin.  “You know I’m right.  Trade with Haverset has been declining ever since Turogg’s son took the elfish throne.  They don’t need the scraps we have to offer.  Besides, how much of your gold has disappeared into Haverset over the years?  Wouldn’t you like to get it back?”

Brigitte watched Jogarth carefully, trying to gauge how he was reacting to Markoz’s persuasion.  The words seemed to have an impact, though he didn’t look totally convinced.  A sudden epiphany struck her and she blurted out, “My chief has been regaling me with tales of your victories, especially your legendary triumph over Turogg. I had never heard of them before, for in the Western Kingdoms they only speak of how he conquered the orc tribes and led them to victory for Zentara.  Now you can set the record straight, to show them all who the true warrior is.”

“Your victory over Turogg as a youth made you a hero, Jogarth.”  Markoz continued, “Let this victory over his children make you a legend.  Call the conclave, and let us show the humans what true orcs can do!”

The corpulent orc stared at Markoz for a long moment, before a grin broke out on his face.  “Very well, I’ll do it!  If nothing else, a conclave will liven things up.  I’ll send out riders to the tribes immediately.  But if I am going to call a conclave and sponsor you to speak, then let us share our women, like brothers do.” 

As Jogarth leered at her, Brigitte hid her resignation.  Markoz had told her it might come to this: that it probably would come to this.  She was ready to pleasure him, despite him being the most repulsive orc she had met yet.  At least he isn’t going to enter me vaginally: that much is forbidden to him.

“Of course, Great Jogarth, I would be honored to sample your women.”

“The ‘princess’ has such soft, honeyed words.  I’d like to see if her mouth is equally as sweet.  Which of mine would you like to sample, Markoz?  The eastern delight you noticed earlier?”  Jogarth leaned forward to grope Brigitte’s tits again, playing with the shiny piercings as he pulled her closer, until he could bury his face between her breasts.  His rubbed his tusks against her cleavage as he nibbled on the soft flesh.

“She’ll do nicely, I think.”  Markoz replied as he patted Brigitte’s ass, nudging her forward to Jogarth.

The look of desire on the eastern woman’s face gave Brigitte an absurd pang of jealousy.  Don’t get used to him, she thought, you will be staying here with your master and I shall be returning with him.  “Ah!” She cried out suddenly as Jogarth bit down on her nipple and tugged the pierced nub.

“Very nice, quite delightful, but let’s put your mouth to better use!”  Jogarth pulled Brigitte down by her shoulder with one hand as the other lifted his great belly, pulling it out of the way to make room for Brigitte to crawl beneath him.

The incense couldn’t mask the fat orc’s stench, not this close and not after lifting his fat rolls.  Brigitte’s eyes watered, and she took a deep breath through her mouth for relief:the princess knew that soon wouldn’t be an option though.  Slender, delicate hands slid up his voluminous pants to untie and open them.  Jogarth didn’t seem interested in lifting himself to remove the garment, so Brigitte had no choice but to reach in to find his member. 

A shudder ran down her spine as the backs of her hands collected the orc’s sweat as she pushed them along his body.  Finally she found the thick snake lurking inside his trousers.  She worked it up, and then finally brought it out to dangle before her.  The sight of it disgusted her; not because of how inhuman it was; she didn’t really have a frame of reference and was well used to orc members besides; but based on how disgusting Jogarth was his member was going to be even worse.

All these orc rituals involving sex are silly and distracting.  The sooner I get this over with, the better; there are far more important things to be about!  After steeling herself, Brigitte lifted the still flaccid shaft and held it in both hands.  She squeezed the twisted base and shook it lightly, allowing the slanted tip to slap against her fingers.  Then she took a deep breath through her mouth and lowered herself to the tip.

Beside her, the Markoz stepped forward and grabbed the eastern woman, who gave a delighted squeal as he flipped her around and bent her over.  His thick beefy fingers slid between her legs, and stroked along her mound, rubbing it slowly as he worked up her arousal.  When she began to grow moist, Markoz alternated between rubbing her sex and smearing the growing juices along the crack of her ass and into its puckered hole.

“She’s got a tight ass to be sure, Markoz,” Jogarth remarked as Brigitte worked between her legs, “but I’m surprised you’re not going for her mouth.  Don’t you want to look down at her exotic features as she takes your cock?”

“A delight to be sure, but I prefer my first glimpse of a new woman to be from the most important angle.”  Markoz quipped with a chuckle before scooping up some of the eastern woman’s wetness and spreading it down his cock.

Brigitte bristled as the two orcs spoke as if the women weren’t present in the room.  Markoz wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me!  She wrapped her lips around Jogarth’s slanted tip and took the first inch of his ridged cock into her mouth.  The taste made her want to gag, so she distracted herself with her litany. It doesn’t matter though, it’s all for my home.  I accepted this to get their help, and it’s working.  I just have to keep going.  She had been telling herself that for days ever since she was captured, and it was true.  Her ordeal meant nothing in the grand scheme of things, as long as she brought these orcs in on her side.

“I suppose you have a point there.  I imagine I’ll get a chance to see what a royal backside looks like before the conclave is over!”  Jogarth sniggered again, and his cock began to harden as Brigitte’s warm mouth wrapped around it and started to suck.  He grunted in satisfaction and began to move his hips, lightly thrusting up between her lips.

“Once all the tribes start arriving you’ll be too distracted trying to trade for new women!”  Markoz slipped a finger inside the eastern woman’s pussy and twisted it around, then slid it out and pressed it against her anus.  He pushed it in without waiting, and it sunk inside the woman’s ass.  Though her walls closed snugly around his finger, he was able to slide it in and out easily, and began working her bottom to prepare for his cock.

I’m doing it for Sandora, I’m doing it for Sandora.   Brigitte thought again and again as she slid down the length of Jogarth’s shaft.  Her lips circled down the screw shaped pattern of ridges while her tongue pushed against his meat and rubbed up and down.  I don’t think this is what my mother had in mind when she advised I lie back and think of Sandora when going to the marriage bed.  A perverse giggle erupted from her throat, just in time to tickle the tip of Jogarth’s shaft as it reached the back of her mouth.

The cock pulsed against her fingers as she adopted a tighter squeeze.  She began to jerk the base of it, working her fist up and down as her other hand slipped inside his pants again to cup and lift his balls.  She rolled the sac across her palm as she pushed all the way down his shaft until her lips kissed the top of the hand jerking his dick.

A quick glance to her side revealed Markoz already buried in Jogarth’s woman to the hilt.  His hips were thrusting rapidly as he vigorously buggered the smaller human woman.  He looks as eager to get out of this uncomfortable situation as I am.  Though he seems to be rather more enjoying himself than I she thought with a grimace.

Still, hope dawned on the horizon as she felt Jogarth’s testicles begin to tense and tighten.  Brigitte redoubled her efforts, sucking furiously and noisily as she sought to get Jogarth off.  No longer trying to distract herself with her thoughts, she threw everything she had into pleasuring the orc in order to bring him to climax.  She pushed her lips further and further down, until the slanted tip of his cock was lodged intoagainst her throat.

The princess’s gag reflex squeezed and tickled the head as she fought off the urge to vomit, trying to keep him in place long enough to draw out his cum.  She was rewarded moments later as his shaft began to spurt, coating the back of her mouth with his thick seed.

Jogarth grabbed the back of her head and pulled her forward, suddenly burying his cock deep in her throat to shoot the rest of his load.  “Oh yes!  That’s it!”  He cried out in pleasure as his cum erupted.  Her choking gasps milked his cock as he rode out his climax, eventually spilling the rest of his seed into her stomach.

Beside him, Markox unleashed  guttural grunt as his own climax erupted.  Slamming his hips forward, he pushed all the way into the woman’s backside, making the tight anal walls enclose his cock entirely as he shot his load.  His grip on her waist tightened, and he moved her back and forth as a cock sleeve to finish his eruption.  “Ah…it’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Jogarth.  We’ve got great things ahead of us, you and I.  Now we just need to get the conclave underway.”

****

Bonfires lit up the horizon long before Drauken heard the din of the encampment.  It hadn’t taken him long at all to learn where the orc tribes were congregating.  The first merchant outpost he reached in the March was bustling with the news that Jogarth had called a conclave on Markoz’s behalf.  There hadn’t been such a conclave since Turrogg tried to unite all the tribes decades ago, and with the war raging in the Western Kingdoms every orc on this side of the Angrian March wanted to know what Markoz intended and how they could profit from it.

As he got closer to the camp he began to hear the raucous noise of an orc gathering.  At first it was just the wild cheering of the crowd.  After traveling another hour he began to hear the clash of steel and cries of pain beneath the cheers, and an hour after that he heard cries of pleasure as orcs broke away from the throng to fuck whatever women they could find.

The Battle for Supremacy isn’t over yet, he thought, that’s good.  I haven’t missed anything yet.  Jogarth called the conclave, but it was Markoz who would set the agenda.  In order to usurp control of the conclave, other tribal leaders would have to challenge and defeat Markoz in combat.  If they were successful, they could dictate what the conclave would discuss.  If they weren’t, then their tribes would be forced to support whatever Markoz had called them there to discuss.

There were numerous other fights going on at the same time, of course.  Whether quarreling over women, ale or a nice sword; or jockeying for a higher position in a tribe; the surplus population of orc males were going to be winnowed that night.  Drauken pushed his way through the largest circle of orcs.  A pit of fire had been constructed in the middle, and Markoz was strutting around it, whooping and shouting as his most recent challenger was dragged away.

He reached out to a nearby human slave girl and grabbed a wineskin and took a deep drink.  Hopefully that’s water, and not wine.  When Markoz passed it back to the human, Drauken did a double take.  The beautiful slave’s skin was still fair, not weather beaten as it got after a few years in the March.  It was also soft, and she carried herself tall and proud.  Instead of meekly casting her eyes down, she boldly scanned the crowd of orcs, looking to see if anyone else would step forward to challenge Markoz.

For a moment, their eyes met and he nodded at the Princess.  Something flashed in her eye: not recognition, for they had never met, but something similar.  A realization of having seen someone or something important.  He smiled at her, but before he could make his way over to her a powerful looking orc stepped between them and broke the line of sight.

He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he saw the orc pull open her vest and grope her tits.  When she tried to push his hands away, he grabbed her wrists, and held her arms apart to expose her breasts.  A moment later Markoz returned, and with a grin the new orc released Brigitte and stepped into the circle.

“I am “Hoschk, of the Regok Tribe!  I thank Markoz for calling together my conclave.”  The orc bellowed out, before turning to Markoz.  “Now step aside Markoz, and I will take control from here.  You have neither the courage, vision, or strength to lead out people.  Step aside, or I will crush you here and now!”

Markoz didn’t even deign to answer, but simply hefted his axe again and advanced towards the challenger.  Markoz was only required to engage in five contests a night, and he’d already finished off three others. The boldest orcs always challenged first, but fighting when the champion was fully rested was the most dangerous.  Further, even if you won there might still be bold warriors who would challenge you in turn.

It was better to wait until the champion was tired from earlier bouts.  This strategy was not without risk, however.  The more exhausted one got, the wilder and more unpredictable he became.  While once the champion might have held back and showed mercy, now he would make quick, killing strikes to defeat his foes.  Drauken looked at Markoz and saw that determination in the orc’s eyes.  We just have to see if Hoschk has the skill and patience to stand against him.

The two orcs circled each other warily, their weapons up in a guard position.  Neither feinted at the other, as both sought to preserve their strength for the contest to come.  Drauken’s heart was already pounding, though in trepidation not in excitement.  He had hoped that the contests would be over.  Instead, the man on whom his whole purpose was resting could be killed at any moment.

He didn’t know what Hoschk planned for the conclave, but he doubted it would involve a raid into Zentara.  Drauken eyed Brigitte again, but the princess was watching the fight intently.  He began making his way to her, skirting the edge of the circle to reach her as fast as possible.

“After I take your head, I’m going to take your new slave.  You can watch as I fill her womb with my seed and plant my son inside her!”  Hoschk grinned ferally at Markoz, but the orc didn’t rise to the bait.  His grin sunk into a snarl and he lashed out, swinging a handaxe at Markoz.  As the orc dodged, Hoschk slashed a second axe diagonally from the other direction.

Markoz caught the second attack with the head of his axe, then kicked out, forcing Hoschk to jump back.  He quickly charged forward, thrusting the head of the axe at Hoschk to keep him off balance.  As the other orc continued to step back he swung it in a sweeping arc, trying to knock Hoschk over as he attempted to dodge.

Instead, the orc leaned back so the axe swing above him, then charged forward and slammed into Markoz, tackling him to the ground.  Hoschk grunted in pain as he took a knee to the ribs, but still forced himself up to crouch over Markoz.  Using the axe’s heft to add weight to his fist, he punched Markoz, slamming across the jaw with his left hand and then following up with a blow from his right.

Blood flew out of the orc’s mouth from the impact, and his mind reeled from the blows to the head.  He quickly threw up his hands to block and began to shimmy backwards, shrimping out from between Hoschk’s legs.  Hoschk raised his handaxe, hoping to finish Markoz off as he tried to escape.  Instead, Markoz jabbed the pommel of his axe into Hoschk’s sternum, then whipped it around to smash it across his jaw. 

Hoschk tumbled off him and rolled away, giving both orcs time to leap to their feet.  They circled each other warily, with both chiefs dripping blood from their mouths.  Markoz was breathing heavily, heavier even than Hoschk.

Drauken watched in consternation as he made his way to Brigitte.  “Your Highness” he addressed the princess, causing her to start, “I am Master Drauken, a friend from Zentara.  Queen Amelie asked me to check in on you.”

“She did?” Brigitte asked in wonder, though she continued to watch the fight anxiously.  “That does sound like her.  But I have everything well in hand here, Master Drauken.   Soon enough we will be opening a new front in the war.  So please do not even think of proposing to rescue me.”

Drauken stared for a moment, then laughed.   “That wasn’t my intent at all, Your Highness!  I actually respect what you’ve done here.  It was a bold move, and one that I think will work.  I want to help you however I can!”

“Really? Oh no!”  Brigitte gasped as Hoschk ploughed into Markoz again, sending him flying back.  Remarkably, Markoz managed to stay on his feet and threw himself back into the fight.  He began hammering Hoschk hard and fast, pushing his antagonist across the clearing as he applied pressure.

Brigitte sighed in relief as the momentum in the fight swung in Markoz’s favor again.  “Really?  You want to help?  I assumed that Queen Amelie sent you here to rescue me and you thought this plan was insane.”

“Not at all!  The orcs can be persuaded, and a raid into Zentara would draw off their forces, undermine their defenses, and expose a weakness in Queen Jeanette’s rule.  It is a bold plan, and I want to help.  I have many contacts with the merchants of the March.  I assume one of their concerns will be the ability to sell or trade the booty if Zentara is closed.  I can reassure them about that.  I can also provide some much needed intelligence on where the Zentaran forces are, where Shropfordshire is vulnerable, and describe what wealth awaits them if they strike.”

“That would be very helpful,” Brigitte replied steadily, “the more orcs we can convince the stronger our force will be. Though take care not to make it sound too easy: the warriors will want some glory in the raid, not just plunder.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Oh-!”  Drauken winced as Markoz slammed the butt of the axe into Hoschk’s face, breaking the orc’s tusk and sending it flying into the bonfire.  Hoschk stumbled to one side, but managed to raise his axe and tab the end of it into Markoz’s stomach as the other orc tried to capitalize on the moment of weakness.

Although it spoiled his killing blow, Markoz shrugged off the attack, and lashed out with his foot kicking in at Hoschk’s knee.  The other orc cried out as his leg twisted and fell to the ground.  Markoz brought his knee up under Hoschk’s chin, and the orc’s eyes rolled back as he collapsed into the dirt, unconscious.

A mighty cheer went up from the orcs.  “Markoz!  Markoz!  Markoz!”  The victorious chieftain raised the axe above his head and strutted about, basking in the revelry.

Drauken’s eyes drifted down to the tattoos on Brigitte’s breasts, as well as the piercings decorating her nipples. By the Abyss it’s alluring to see that on a Princess!  I don’t know why, actually, since it’s not all that out of place for Zentara.  Maybe it’s the fact that’s she Sandoran and innocent…well, not so innocent now, I suppose.

“How is the war progressing, Master Drauken?  I haven’t heard any news since coming here.”

“Queen Amelie bled King Grotok’s army in the Pass, but they have finally managed to break through.”  He sighed.  “I fear the battle with the Sandoran army in imminent.  If it goes well, then the orcs here will help hem them into Zentara.  If it goes poorly...well, perhaps they’ll withdraw with the orcs threatening Ruar.  The Hesten front is stable, with King Belkor still trapped south of the Warne.  I think King Henry will be able to hold him there, though we will see about that soon as well.  Belkor is also going to be marching too.”

“Then we don’t have any time to lose.  It’s all coming together, and if we want to be a factor in that then we have to strike quickly.”

“We will.  I don’t think anyone else will be challenging Markoz, and this orc army will move faster than the ones were used to seeing in the Western Kingdoms.  If they strike camp tomorrow you could be at Shropfordshire in a fortnight!”

With a deep, exhilarating laugh Markoz returned and grabbed Brigitte, lifting her up and swinging her about as he gave her a kiss.  Her loincloth flipped up, flashing her ass to the cheering crowd of orcs as he held her close.   “There’s no one left to challenge me, Brigitte, and enough of the large clans are now honor bound to support us.  Soon, we will be launching the largest orc raid into a human Kingdom in history!”

“Excellent, my chief, and not a moment to spare.  This is Master Drauken, and he has some very valuable information for us…”

****

The day was dark, and overcast from the Spring rains, but it was Daniels’ glower that send a violent tremor ran down Jasmara’s spine.  The rusty hinges of the kneel door screeched like a bird of prey intent on capturing its victim, but instead of doom it was signaling her freedom.  At least, it meant freedom for the moment.

The old footman wasn’t happy about removing Jasmara from her bondage, at least, not under circumstances leading to further abuse.  But Queen Sylvia had called for her, and the Queen could not be disobeyed.  Even with the sun hidden behind a thick screen of clouds it was too bright for her, and she had to squint to shield her eyes from the glare.

Soldiers milled about the courtyard of Altengraf castle, and more lined the walls looking for any sign of her brother’s army.  As one looked over to see her being led towards the main keep, she noticed the lusty, leering glint in his eyes.  They bore a hint of familiarity, and she wondered if he had fucked her.  There had been so many during her captivity that she could no longer keep track of the various men who had violated her.

That particularly nasty thought was one that had haunted her much of late.  She was by no means a virgin when she was captured, but she could still have counted her lovers on one hand.  Jasmara was something of a rarity at her mother’s court, more interested in martial training than carnal relations.  Despite her gloomy thoughts, she was glad that Daniels didn’t say anything as they walked.  She much preferred the company of her own thoughts, morose they may be, so the abusive human.  Who knew what further revelations he might have for her?

It’s funny how we always think of it as my mother’s court, not my father’s.  But then, Turogg wasn’t really my father if Daniels is to be believed.  The worst part was, it was easy to believe him.  Everyone knew Jeanette’s proclivities.  Of course, it wasn’t as bad when Turogg was alive.  Maybe I’m just projecting what she is now to what she was then.  She tried to reassure herself, but her thoughts rang hollow.  People didn’t change, not that much.  The wantonness must always have been in her.

I wonder what he was like, she thought.  Most accounts of the war always paired Gorath with Katerei, the mercenary captain who trained Queen Amelie in the art of war.  Both left the Western Kingdoms at the end of the rebellion, disappearing into the March never to be seen again.  Is that part of the story?  Did they get sent away to protect the secret of my conception?

A delightful aroma pulled her from her thoughts.  Her stomach rumbled hungrily as she caught the scent of roasted pork wafting down the narrow stone walls, creating a sensuous corridor of delight.  She picked up her, straining at the guards’ grasp as she made her way down the hall to find the source of the delightful aroma. 

They brought her to a solar, and for a moment she started as Sylvia rose to greet her.  The pretender Queen of Heste did look like a younger version of her mother.

“Princess Jasmara, please, sit and share a meal with me.”  Sylvia smiled and gestured to the chair across from her on the table. 

The orc princess wondered what sort of cruel trick this was, but the food was too tempting to pass by.  When the other shoe dropped she intended to have a full belly.  Her hand snapped forward to grab a fist full of pork from the plate, and without a care for the filth on her hand she shoved it into her mouth and began to devour the meat.

Sylvia watched the display without judgment, her face masked of any reaction.  Instead, she turned her attention to her own plate, and began to eat slowly and deliberately as Jasmara had her fill.  Her soft hands reached out to break a loaf of bread, and she dipped it into the juices pooling on her plate before taking a bite.

After finishing the meat, Jasmara snatched her goblet off the table, groaning as she drank deeply of the red wine, guzzling it down, swallowing mouthful after mouthful of the nectar.  When it drained, she put the goblet back on the table, where one of the serving maids quickly refilled it.  Having taken the edge off her hunger and thirst, she realized what shocking table manners she just displayed.  Jasmara suppressed the embarrassment, and instead gave Sylvia a defiant look.  “Well?  What is it you want?  Why have you brought me here?”

“I thought you might like to be let out of that cage.  If I was mistaken, say so and you can be escorted back.”

“It’s out of the goodness of your heart, then?”  Jasmara countered.  “Forgive me if I find that hard to believe.  I’ve yet to see a drop of goodness or decency from anyone in your misbegotten ‘Kingdom’.”

“War is hard for everyone, Princess-”

“Don’t feed me that line, Sylvia!  You know what’s been done to me!  Can you say the same?”

“Your mother gave me to a brothel when I was half your age.”  Sylvia replied with a frosty edge in her voice and a steely glint in your eyes.  “Your brother did things just as humiliating.  Except I couldn’t fight and call it rape, I had to smile, and acts as if I enjoyed is depredations.”

Jasmara’s angry retort caught in her throat.  She couldn’t exactly deny that her brother had abused and humiliated Sylvia.  Jasmara had always assumed that the woman did it willingly because she was a harlot, but did they really have that much choice when their clients made demands?  Particularly ones like Sylvia, who had been forced into the life?

“You also cannot tell me that your own soldiers have never ravished any women they’ve captured, can you?  War IS hard for everyone, Jasmara.  I am sorry that it has gone poorly for you, but you are not the only one who has suffered.”

Sylvia’s words gave her pause, and she looked at the Hesten queen more warily.  After a moment though she relaxed and resumed eating her meal, though this time with the cutlery.  “You’re right, of course.  Thank you for getting me released from that cage.”  I only wish you had done it sooner, she thought darkly.

“Of course.  I hope I can make the remainder of your stay here more pleasant.  The war will be resuming soon, and the army will be marching.  There is no need for you to go with them.  Indeed, it would be much safer to keep you here, out of harms way.”

And too far away to be rescued or to attempt an escape, she noted.  “That would be wonderful.”  Jasmara sighed deeply.  “To be honest, I just want this war to end, one way or the other.”

“It will, soon.  Henry doesn’t think it will last another campaign season.  Too much has happened, the forces are too deeply committed to avoid a decisive battle now.”

Jasmara thought that Sylvia’s expression suggested she wasn’t entirely sure who would come out on top, which was reassuring to her.  From everything she had experienced so far it seemed like the human kingdoms were winning.  But maybe something has happened elsewhere?  I can’t be too obvious about my questioning, though…“Do you know if my family is alright?  Have you heard any news of them?”

“Your brother Belkor is fine, at least for the moment.  Grotok and your nephew are-”  Sylvia stopped herself from saying more, and instead finished with, “-still fine.  I haven’t heard any reports suggesting any member of your family has been harmed.”

“My nephew?  Which one?”  Jasmara wracked her brain, trying to think of which of her nephews would be campaigning with Grotok.  Does she mean one of Agmar’s bastards?

“Trogar’s son, Augras, he-”

“Augras?  Augras is dead!”  He was lost at sea years ago!”  Jasmara spat out angrily.  She had been quite fond of her nephew before he left on his exploration of the seas, never to return.

“You didn’t hear during your brief escape attempt?  Augras has returned, and brought a small army of monsters from the southern continent with him.  He, well, it is difficult to explain, and harder to believe.  Apparently he learned some sort of magic there, and has used it to great effect.  He-”  Sylvia stopped herself again, not wanting to give too much away.

Jasmara reeled in show at the revelation.  Augras is alive? He’s alive!  For the first time since her escape she felt a surge of hope and happiness.  “H-how is that possible?  What do you mean magic?”  All of a sudden the wellspring of hope began to dry up.  Magic?  What is she talking about?  Is it a trick?

“I don’t fully understand it myself, no one does.  But the results are undeniable.”  Sylvia leaned forward.  “I hope that is some comfort to you.” 

The expression on Sylvia’s face confused her for a moment, before Jasmara realized that the Hesten Queen was thinking that Augras was likely to die in the war.  With these strange powers there is no way he could be allowed to live.  For that matter, I’m not even sure they will let me live when this is all over.  For a moment, she thought about reaching across the table and strangling Sylvia right there, though that would be a poor way to repay the woman’s hospitality.

If Augras truly does have some sort of magic, and monsters no less, perhaps we’ll win this war after all.  I just need to stay alive until then.  “Thank you, Your Highness.”  She replied, grudgingly giving Sylvia her title.  “It is kind of you to share that news with me, it does-”

The loud blast of a horn interrupted her, followed shortly thereafter by two more.  “Your brother’s army has been spotted, Princess.  Perhaps this will be settled even sooner than we expected."

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