They were not going to put every single soldier on the defenses at once. Instead, a significant reserve, five thousand out of the sixteen thousand soldiers they had immediately available, were in reserve. The intention was that in case Thorgoth decided to do a night attack, the defenders would at least have fresh troops to commit.
As it was, when Thorgoth’s army arrived, the first through the door weren’t soldiers, but a group of riders waving a white flag of truce.
Watching from one of the defensive towers along the first terrace’s wall, Frances grimaced. She pocketed her spyglass and sighed. It was too far for her to get a good idea who these people were. “They’re offering terms. Really?”
From beside her, hunkered with her guard captain Severus and quite a number of knights, Queen Forowena shrugged. “Whatever the terms are, they are probably going to be unacceptable. Still, we should abide by tradition. Frances, take an escort and hear them out.”
Frances blinked. “Wait, just me? Shouldn’t someone of royal status or an official herald come with me?”
“You’re engaged to Prince Timur, you’re of Erisdale and you’re the Stormcaller. I want to send a message.”
“Yes, your—Forowena.” Frances returned Forowena’s wave before racing down the stairs.
Morgan and Hattie were waiting just by fortified bunker built from reinforcing and piling earth and rubble by a house. Frances had decided that at least for the moment, her girls should stay near her. That way, she could keep Hattie in particular safe due to her Dragonsbane curse.
“Girls, you’re coming with me. They sent a party to parlay with us.”
“Wait, are you sure it’s safe?” Hattie asked.
“I can never be completely sure it’s safe, but they haven’t actually advanced their army through the Greenway and we have every cannon trained on that opening. Besides, we’re safer together.” Frances took a deep breath. “If you’re not—”
“No, we are. We’re just wondering why us,” said Morgan.
“Preparation for what you might have to do in the future. You are a Princess of Alavaria after all, and Hattie is growing into a fine mage in her own right,” said Frances. Turning from her charges, Frances gestured to a group of horsemen waiting on standby. “Come with us, please.”
“Yes ma’am,” saluted the knight. Once the trio had saddled up onto spare mounts, they were riding out of the gate toward the parlay party, twenty armoured horsemen following them.
As they neared, Frances could see their opposite was only of ten people. Their were trolls, goblins, a tauroll and even a harpy perched on one of the horses, being led forward by the leading troll. Yet the nearer they got, a growing uneasiness spread from her stomach up into her chest.
Raising her hand, Frances halted their advance across the barren dirt. She pulled out Ivy’s Sting and then her spyglass. Peering down it, what she saw froze her still and made her scramble to pocket her tool and cast a voice amplification spell.
“Thorgoth that’s close enough! State your business!”
Morgan’s eyes widened. “Wait what—” Frances pressed a finger to her lips, before turning her attention back to the party in the distance. They’d stopped as well.
“This is a rather awkward distance to talk, Frances Stormcaller.”
Frances had only met Timur’s father once, but his booming voice with it’s arrogant lilt was unmistakeable. Gritting her teeth she ran through her defensive spells and the ways she could retreat with her girls.
She wasn’t sure of who the other two who rode just behind Thorgoth were, but she had a suspicion they were Queen Berengaria and General Helias. She was less confident about her guess about the harpy, but there was only one tauroll that came to mind.
“I prefer awkward and safe to stupid and formal. Especially since if I’m correct, you brought Queen Berengaria and that bastard Helias with you?” She glanced at Hattie who had gone very still and now had a white-kunckled grip around Silver Star.
“And you have brought children to this meeting, my granddaughter and dear Hattie with you. Quite the reunion we have here. Hattie would have been a fine concubine to the good gener—”
Frances hissed a note between gritted teeth. Lightning crackled around her and a thunderclap cut the king off. “State your business, Thorgoth! Murderer. Abuser. Traitor and kinslayer! My patience runs thin!”
Thorgoth chuckled. “You’re one to talk. Heartstopper, Skinmangler. But you do bore me, so I shall proceed to the point. I offer no terms other than unconditional surrender. If you do, I will promise to be merciful. At the very least, I’ll let you live.”
Frances grimaced. She turned to Hattie, pointing at pocket she mouthed ‘call our cannon. Prepare to fire.’ With one hand, she made a fist, before making it metaphorically explode onto her other hand. Hattie, nodding, pulled out her mirror and started whispering orders.
“Barely alive? In prison? You’ll have to do far better than that you monster,” she retorted.
“Come on, I’ll let you even rut my useless son and marry him.”
Morgan, wings flared, pulled out Lightbreaker and cast an amplification spell on herself. Before Frances could stop her, the harpy-troll screeched. “She doesn’t need your permission for that useless piece of shit of a grandfather!”
Thorgoth snorted. “Language young lady—”
“Oh go suck a giant cock! You had my father killed! You n—had my mother killed! You killed so many Alavari and humans because boohoo your mommy and your wifey failed to exist. What makes you so fucking special from the rest of us? Why do you get to fucking kill half the world when you get sad?”
Frances stared at Morgan, trying hard not to giggle as her daughter returned her stare, mouth now having dropped open. Her eyes were wide, whilst the knights and Hattie were all trying to hold their laughter in.
“You know what that’s a fantastic question, Morgan,” said Hattie.
Ending the amplification spell with a wave of her wand, Morgan winced. “You think I went too far?”
That was the moment they heard a loud, somewhat obnoxious guffaw. Unmistakable Thorgoth’s, the trio could tell from even a distance that he was holding onto his belly and just laughing.
When he stopped, he let the silence sink in for a moment. When he spoke again, his tone was a menacing drawl.
“Ah, little Morgan. I do wish you turned out more like your grandmother and less like your father. No matter. You’re young enough that I can break you down and rebuild you in my image.”
Reaching over to touch her daughter’s arm, Frances glared at her nemesis. “Enough. If that’s all you have to say Thorgoth, then we will be off.”
Despite anticipating it, Frances couldn’t help but feel a chill run down her back as the king snorted.
“I don’t think so,” he growled.
Frances cut her amplification spell. “I expected as much. Hattie!”
“Fire! Fire now!” Hattie screamed into her hand mirror.
“Everybody ride now!” Frances snapped. “Go! Hurry!” She threw up a shimmering blue shield in front of her party, just in time to catch a viscous violet blast. The magical blast was the size of a train and it hit like one too. Frances whimpered as the blow cracked and nearly shattered her barrier, but even so it kicked up a huge dust cloud.
Not wasting time, Frances turned her nervous horse around and galloped after her knights and her girls. The cloud was already dissipating as Queen Berengaria soared above it, waving her wand.
Frances prepared her lightning spell, but heard the cannons boom. “Morgan, blind them!”
Twisting over her saddle to wield Lightbreaker, the harpy-troll waved her famous wand, sending a bright cone of light shining right past Frances to engulf Thorgoth and Berengaria. The whine and thud of cannonballs followed, careening into the blinding white.
“Did we get him?” Morgan hollered.
“Probably not! Keep going!” Frances continued to spur her horse onward, glancing over occasionally. Morgan had ended her spell and now the dirt behind the party was now being pummelled over and over by what seemed like every cannon in the kingdom. The ground thundered, shaking with the blow of iron on rock and soil, kicking up a great plume of dust.
And yet over that barrage, Frances heard Thorgoth and Berengaria laughing. The king’s deep chortle and the harpy’s higher-pitched giggle intermingling like some sick symphony over the pounding drums of the cannon barrage.
“An excellent warm up, dear Frances! I will see you on the battlefield soon. Sleep well tonight!”
“Cease fire, we’re not having an effect,” Hattie whispered into her mirror.
“Fuck,” Morgan whispered.
Frances slowed her horse to a canter as she watched in the distance, the violet bubble covering Thorgoth and his party, retreat back to the Greenway. “That was to be expected. Let’s get back.”
----------------------------------------
General Helias was a hardened veteran of many battles. He’d seen horrors and done such unspeakable things that he could make a child cry simply by talking about it.
Walking through an artillery barrage, with King Thorgoth holding up a shield around them was new. The fact that Thorgoth was only sweating slightly as Queen Berengaria tickled his cheeks with the tips of her wings almost made Helias want to speak up.
Almost.
“Did you have to tickle my love?” Thorgoth asked as they rode out of the barrage and into the Greenway.
“Nope. Besides, I could tell you were annoyed. You needed the distraction,” said Berengaria.
Helias’s eyes widened. Was she crazy?
Then his mouth parted slightly as Thorgoth nodded at his queen. “Morgan could have been an excellent enforcer of Durannon’s new order. I suspect that Timur and the Stormcaller have worked too much of their influence on her.”
“Wait, you were bluffing? What do you intend to do with the princess then?” Helias asked.
The king shrugged. “Oh I haven’t decided yet. Not kill her. I’d just leave enough of her alive to make an example. Anyway, Berengaria my love, call my generals and the dragons. We meet in two hours to go over the plan one more time. There are some adjustments to be made.”
The harpy queen pecked her husband’s cheek and flew off. Meanwhile, Helias saluted his king and rode off. Keeping his face blank, he did his best to quash the queasiness in his stomach.
He wasn’t entirely sure why he was feeling queasy. He had done some pretty terrible things to humans and Alavari after all. Manipulation, murder, and coercion being just a few of them. He’d even ordered children to be killed.
Dismounting from his horse, the tauroll walked toward his tent, cloven hooves thudding on the packed dirt floor of the Greenway.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Down the long highway, Alavari troops had set up organised lines of tents. Bathrooms and latrines had been dug out, supplies had been amassed. The army camp stretched on as far as the eye can see.
Helias’s eye were focused on his pavilion-style tent. Waving the guards aside, he pushed aside the tent flap.
A half-harpy, half-orc girl, several years out of teenhood rose to her feet from where she sat at his desk. Unlike the rest of her harpy brethren, she was tall, almost meeting Helias’s height, but she shared her brethren’s slender build. Her dark green eyes snapped to Helias and she stood. Her forest-green eyes put her quill down and took the ends of her dress. With dainty elegance, she curtsied, eyes watching Helias and the guards behind him.
“Leave us,” Helias hissed.
“Sir—”
He glared at the guards, making them shiver. “We’re in the middle of the camp, leave us,” Helias growled. His words lashed against the pair, making them salute and clear away, letting the tent flap close.
“Are we alone, my dear husband?” the harpy-orc, or harorc asked.
Helias pulled over the flap, eyed the outside and closed it. “We’re good. Hold on, Sara, I’m going to put up a privacy spell.”
His wife nodded as Helias cast a quick spell over the tent. Only after he finished the spell, did Sara stand up straight again and run a hand through her hair. “What happened? You look like my mother’s murderer has done something unpleasant to your dinner.”
“He walked us through an artillery barrage while being tickled by the queen,” said Helias.
Sara blinked. “Damn. That must have been tense.”
Snorting, Helias smirked. “Oh you bet it was.”
The harorc nodded and sat down back at the desk, whilst Helias pulled over the second chair. “The humans fired first?”
Helias shook his head. “Nope. The human envoys were the Stormcaller and Princess Morgan. The king spontaneously decided to try to abduct Morgan. The humans, particularly the Stormcaller, did not react well.”
Rolling her eyes, Sara adjusted her finely embroidered light-blue dress. “Ah, so it’s going as well as usual in Thorgoth’s world. Hit hard, and when you get hit, hit even harder. That’s worked out so well for him.”
“So I take it you don’t see this battle as having any point?” Helias asked.
Sara pursed her lips. “Not quite.”
“Illuminate me. What are your thoughts about this battle and the war’s progress?” Helias asked, leaning onto his elbows.
“First, did you ask Thorgoth about reimbursing our coffers for caring for those dragons?” Sara asked, picking her quill back up again.
“Yes actually. It was impossible to ask about compensation for the dragon handlers' families. I tried to bring it up but he was not having it.”
“Hmm, we’ll have to pay them ourselves. What sign did he give?” Sara asked, making a note on the paper she was writing on.
“He was glaring, eyebrow arching,” said Helias.
Sara winced. “Ah, good that you backed off. What did you get?”
“Cattle, lots of cattle, five herds in fact. Also, a deal for the merchants to sell us salted beef at reduced costs. Which is what I told you we would get,” Helias said, doing his best not to sound too plaintive.
“I bow to your superior reading of your uncle-not-uncle,” muttered Sara.
“With all respect, my dear wife, piss off.”
Leaning back on her chair, Sara stuck up two middle fingers at her husband, and her two middle claws. Helias rolled his eyes, resisting the urge to stick his middle fingers up and hoofed feet up at her, as he would lose the contest. “Alright, what do you think about this battle, Sara?”
Putting her feet down, Sara ruffled her wings. “First, I’m more interested in why you want my opinion in the first place. I’m not a military commander.”
“I have asked you for opinions on military operations before,” said Helias.
“I know and I know that you value my perspective, but on this?” Sara asked, as she stacked her papers and put them to one side.
Helias frowned. “You know why I value your opinion. I kind of have to. Everybody in the Warflock Eerie obeys you. They only obey me because of what Thorgoth might do to you. They’re not actually scared of me.”
“You know that’s not what I meant. I know you listen to me when it comes to running the eerie because you’ve essentially let me run the eerie.” Sara bit her lip. She placed a cup in front of Helias and filled it with the pitcher of wine on the desk. “But when your husband, a veteran of hundreds of battles, a proven field commander and saboteur starts letting his twenty-year-old wife dictate how to deploy the garrison, and then his personal troops, you get suspicions. Now, you’re asking for my thoughts on what might seem to be the final battle of the war and the aftermath?”
Helias took the wine and sipped it slowly. “That’s never mattered to you. Don’t deny that you enjoy it when you get more independence and more authority.”
Sara’s eyes narrowed. “Humor me, Helias. Unless you want something from this exchange?”
“No. I do actually need your thoughts on this and it’s important because…” Helias closed his eyes. “You recall our initial agreement and discussion about our situation, right?”
The harpy-orc nodded, one hand playing with the dark-blue sapphire necklace around her neck, a gift from Helias. “Yes. You had orders to…to break me. You also realized that that would mean the Warflock Eerie would never listen to you, so you proposed this compromise. We pretend in front of the king that I’m your little broken wife. In reality, I hold the reins to the Warflock, my vassals and prevent them from just killing you. You cover for me, I make sure you have everything you could ever want and need to keep us both alive.” Sara frowned, studying Helias, who continued to stay quiet, only shuffling to take his jacket off and hang it on the back of his chair. The general was her husband and was handsome enough, but even now he remained an enigma to her. “I bear you a child, you make sure she wants for nothing and is safe from Thorgoth.”
Helias smiled, his eyes gazing off into a blank space in their shared tent. “That was by far the easiest part of the bargain to uphold. Gwelian is adorable.”
Sara couldn’t help but mirror her husband’s smile as she recalled their daughter, safe back at the eerie. As Helias’s eyes returned to her, though, she schooled her face into a frown.
“What does that have to do with the war? And what does that have to do with needing my opinion above all your advisors?” Sara demanded.
Helias’s expression moved from concentrated thought to a grimace, before settling into an exhausted snarl.
“Because I trust you to be honest with me, Sara. The arrangement we have here? You hate this. I hate this, but by Galena, Sara, you of all folk will not bullshit to my face and right now, I don’t know if my conclusion is correct. In fact, I am hoping I’m wrong here because I think we have no future if we win this battle. Lia will have no future even if we win this battle.”
Sara blinked, sitting up just a bit straighter as she studied her husband’s frustrated expression and went over his annoyed but candid words in her mind.
“I’m flattered,” she said slowly.
Helias allowed himself a smirk. He opened his mouth, but just before he could speak, he pressed his hand over his lips.
“You were about to say something rather inappropriate were you,” Sara asked in an arch tone.
The tauroll looked away, shoulders hunching over. “Yes, and I’m sorry.”
Sara shut her eyes for a moment, collecting herself. “There’s nothing to apologize for. I am glad you thought better of it.” Nodding as if to herself, she smiled thinly, Sara extended her wing. The end of her feather touched Helias’s shoulder lightly bringing his gaze from the table back up at her. “Now, tell me your conundrum, husband. I’m ready to give my thoughts on it.”
Helias mirrored his spouse’s thin smile. “Thank you, wife.” He took a deep breath. “I was thinking about King Thorgoth’s plan to subjugate the humans. Now, I hate those bastards. They helped kill Queen Ulania. They seized our lands when we were weak under Tagus. But…even if we defeat the Otherworlders, and destroy their armies in the field, the humans take up half of the continent. That made me wonder, how are we going to keep them all in control?”
Sara frowned, nodding slowly. “They’ll pretend to be under control. They’ll obey us out of fear. Maybe a few will even collaborate with you to gain a bit from all the others. But with so many humans, we’ll take forever trying to subjugate them. And what’s stopping them from summoning another group of Otherworlders?”
Finishing his cup with a swig, Helias set down the vessel and drummed his fingers on the table. “My thoughts exactly. We could surround the Temple of the Otherworlders with defenses, but all it takes is one sympathiser, one person to get through and we could have another Stormcaller.”
The harorc pursed her lips, unconsciously refilling Helias’s cup. “I thought you mentioned that the Stormcaller was no match for Thorgoth and so the Otherworlders were overall, not an immediate concern for the battle ahead.”
“Yes, but if I’m being honest, nobody in our forces other than Thorgoth can beat Frances. You know my reputation, but I’m nowhere near capable of even hurting the Stormcaller. In fact, the only mages that can beat the Stormcaller are all on our enemy's side and the dragons we have.” Resting his elbows on the desk, Helias leaned forward, meeting Sara’s now contemplative gaze. “If we win the battle, those mages won’t be a problem, but then I kept thinking about it. I wondered what would happen if a decade later, when you and I are a little older, and Thorgoth is dead. I thought about what will happen if the summoning system is somehow reactivated and they summon another Stormcaller. One not so unwilling to hurt children as this one is.”
Sara’s eyes were wide. Her wings were stiff and her hand covered her abdomen, where not so long ago, she’d given birth to a beautiful daughter.
“We’d be in deep trouble, but wouldn’t the Kingdom of Alavaria have time to consolidate its gains and maybe try to convert some of the humans to support us?”
Helias finished his second cup of wine like he was an Alavari in the desert. Setting it down, he covered the glass with a hand before Sara could refill it.
“In Thorgoth’s new world order, humans will always be put as inferior to us. They will be our slaves and while we control them, they’ll pretend to love us. They’ll whisper niceties to us. They’ll lie in bed but when the opportunity comes, when we least expect it, and when we are at our weakest, they’ll strike. It may not happen in our lifetime. It may happen while Thorgoth is still alive, but it will happen and Alavaria will bleed.” The general’s gaze met his lady wife’s. “Our children and their children will bleed. Unless I’m wrong. Unless you think I’m wrong.”
Sara ran both hands around her face to brush her wavy black hair over her ears. Resting her head in her hands, she stared at the centre of the table, deep in thought.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t think you’re wrong. I think there are some intricacies you may not have considered, but I don’t think you’re wrong about what will happen after the war.”
Sighing, Helias nodded. “What intricacies? I’m all ears.”
“Have you considered defecting to Queen Titania? My eerie has no love for Thorgoth,” said Sara. She hesitated, this could be seen as treasonous talk, but her husband was only biting his lip and frowning with consideration.
“I did and Thorgoth has screwed us there I think. He married you to the Alavari who committed the Erlenberg Massacre. Any attempted defection to Titania’s side will inevitably lead to Titania’s human allies pressuring her to not believe me. Your eerie is also far too close to Queen Berengaria’s holdings. Your garrison is good but not that good and won’t be able to fight dragons.”
Groaning, Sara sipped from her cup, only to find it empty. She reached to refill the pitcher, only to find it empty. Before she could get up, Helias had produced his wand and was levitating another bottle of a lighter red wine over. Unstoppering the bottle, he poured her a glass.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now go on? Where were you?”
Sara moved her cup slowly in a circle, watching the wine swirl. “I believe… ah. You must win this battle. If we cannot defect easily then we must break through the human and their allies' defenses and destroy their army. Ideally, Thorgoth dies and we attain victory, but even if Thorgoth survives, he does not live forever. We just have to survive and build our strength until he passes. Then we can work to try to repair relationships with what’s left of the humans and reposition ourselves politically. It’ll take time, but we both have that and hopefully, we’ll make sure Gwelian’s future is bright.”
Helias bobbed his head, stroking his goatee as he did so. “Good plan. Though, you are missing two other possible options.”
Sara frowned. “What’s that?”
“If I die, but we win or lose the battle. If we win, you’ll still be able to raise Gwelian and ensure her future without my oversight. If we lose, but I die, you’ll probably be able to sell yourself as the poor wife who survived my abuse.”
Helias started as Sara stood up so quickly, her chair went toppling backward onto the ground with a clatter.
“Are you fucking stupid? If you die, do you really think Thorgoth would allow me to remain single? He’d marry me off to another of his lackeys and there’s no guarantee there that this new husband would even let Gwelian live, or agree to an arrangement like we have.”
“Ah…good point, but if we lose and I die, then things will work out quite well for you and Gwelian.”
“And how would you engineer that? Do you have the ability to kill King Thorgoth? And what if you somehow kill him, but fail to kill yourself? You know as well as I do that if you live and our deal is discovered, then the Warflock Eerie and Gwelian will be put into Titania’s sights, no matter how supposedly merciful the humans and Titania’s Alavari are. For all her final rebellion brought her, my mother was a Thorgoth loyalist until then!”
Helias rose to his feet, hands still braced against the desk. “That wasn’t a consideration, Sara. I’m saying that if Thorgoth somehow does lose to the Stormcaller, it would be in your best interest to kill me.”
Sara reeled, wings briefly extending before shrinking close to her body. One hand over her open mouth, she stammered, “I thought you trust me.”
The general shrugged, for what else could he do? “I do, but I have no illusions about the nature of this deal we have and how it was imposed on us. If there was any other option, I know you would have taken it. You’re too smart not to take that option when or if it presents itself.”
Her hands forming fists, Sara wiped her eyes, glaring at her husband. “Well, if you do trust me. Let me tell you this. We are partners in this. We are in this together. Neither of us wanted this, but I will not just stab you in the back when you’ve kept up your end of the baragain. How…how would I explain that to our Lia?”
Helias’s jaw dropped open. His eyes wide, he stared at Sara and mouthed a quiet, “Oh.”
Grabbing her chair and setting it back on its legs, Sara sat herself back into it, her arms crossed. “Yes, you royal prick. Surprise! I don’t hate you that much. Now stop interrupting me. I’m not done yet. I have a big question for you and this battle the king wishes to fight.”
Helias sat back down much more slowly, steepling his fingers together. “Well, you definitely have my attention. What’s this big question of yours, my wife?”
Sara took several breaths, and another quick sip of her glass. With a grimace, she pushed the glass away so it was just at the edge of her reach. “Why are we fighting here?”
The general blinked. “What do you mean?”
“We have six dragons and a larger army. Yet, the humans still want to fight us? Shouldn’t they run? Hit us somewhere else?” Sara asked, gesturing with her hand. “You have told me about Queen Forowena’s strategic acumen, and the genius of her sub-commanders: Edana Firehand, Frances Stormcaller, Elizabeth Kim, and Martin the Hero of Erisdale. So why are they choosing to fight us here? The position is defensible, but they have to know we have dragons.”
“The humans must have an ulterior motive, but the king doesn’t seem to realize that,” said Helias slowly, though his mind was whirring with ideas and suspicions.
“Or he doesn’t give a shit about his subjects and his army. I mean would he have killed my mom and married me to you if he did?” Sara mused.
His shoulders falling, Helias shook his head. “No, he wouldn’t.” Looking up from the table, the tauroll met the harorc’s gaze. “Sara, if you are up for it, I’d like you to accompany me to the meeting Thorgoth is going to hold.”
“Why?” Sara whined, rubbing her forehead with one hand.
The general grimaced. “If we are to win this battle, your insight might prove invaluable. I know you hate pretending—”
Sara rose from the desk. “You bet I do, but dammit I know you’re right. Help me pick a dress. Nothing too fancy.”
Helias stood up, and as he walked to his wife’s chests, he glanced over at the harorc, who was slowly undoing the buttons to her dress. “Thank you,” he said.
Sara met his glance for a moment, before flashing him a very small smile. “Thank you, for treating me alright.”
“Right back at you.” Helias smirked before going off to find his wife a dress.