The Fractured Song Index
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“I commend your choice in dress, but why did you ask me to wear this stupid thing?” whispered Sara.
Helias glanced at his wife, his eyebrow arched as he gave the verdant silk green dress she wore a once-over. Not for the first time did he admire how most clothes just worked on his wife’s frame.
Less pleasant was the sight of the studded leather brace that now covered his wife’s wings and prevented her from extending both of them at the same time.
“Remind me, who suggested that I commission that stupid thing?” Helias asked.
Sara had been pulling at the brace to try to stop it from chafing against her dress. She glared at her husband. “What do you mean—” She closed her eyes and groaned. “Fuuuuck…I did, didn’t I?”
Stepping behind his wife, Helias undid one of the buttons on the dress, widening the wing-holes that allowed his wife’s wings to fit through the dress. “Mhm. You said that outside of the Eerie, we needed a way to show Thorgoth that you were subservient to me and that you were willing to—”
“Sacrifice a little dignity to maintain our cover. Galena dammit,” Sara hissed.
“You are sometimes far too smart for your own good, Sara,” said Helias, offering his arm.
Scowling, Sara slapped her hand onto the general’s arm, fingernails digging slightly into the velvet military tunic. “Up yours, Helias. You’re not the one wearing a fucking cage on their back and needing to kiss the king’s ass.”
“Hey, you got this.” Helias pulled his handkerchief from his jacket pocket, which Sarah accepted and used to dab at her eyes. ‘You’ve lasted this long.”
Briefly, looking around to check that they were alone, Sara turned her attention back to her husband. “He killed my mother. He wanted you to break me. He trapped us in this loveless marriage.”
“This is not what I wanted either, but we have to make do with what we got. Let’s just get this over with and we can have a quiet evening.”
“I know. I know.” Sara took a deep breath. “You never told me what you wanted from marriage.”
Helias returned his wife’s question with a flat gaze.“You first.”
“This isn’t an exchange—” Sara rolled her eyes. “I wanted a tall, handsome husband to go on adventures with and have fun with. I wanted him to dote on me and well, make me feel like a princess.”
The tauroll blinked. “You wanted to be doted on?”
“Wouldn’t you?” Sara retorted.
Helias scratched his goatee. “I know what’s it like to be served, but doted on? I only know of war, battle, and how to get folk to do what I want. So I wanted a beautiful, obedient wife, who’d obey me without question, but…my thoughts have changed.”
Sara tugged at Helias’s arm, nudging her elbow into his side. “Oh? Have I finally worn you down with my charms?”
The general’s eyes glanced at Sara for what seemed like a long moment, before he shook his head. “You are beautiful, but I wouldn’t have wanted to be married to you. I suppose you can call me a romantic, but I want a devoted wife with only a bit of your sass to keep things interesting.”
Sara grumbled, looking away. “Bastard.”
“Accurate,” Helias placed his hand briefly over Sara’s squeezing with a gentleness that made her look back to him. “For what it’s worth, you have been a good partner, perhaps better than I deserved. If…if this continues for longer, I would consider this to be a fine life.”
Sara sighed, but she allowed Helias to see a glimpse of her smile. “Hmph, that’s the best I will get I suppose. Thank you.”
“General Helias, taking the traitor’s daughter out for a stroll?”
Immediately, like a switch had been flipped, Helias whirled Sara around roughly, the gentle hand on hers quickly grabbing her arm. The harpy bowed her head, clamping her other close to her body.
A female ogre, quite slender by the standards of her species, stalked toward them. Across her violet and gold-tasselled jacket were quite a number of medals. A bandolier sat on top of these, carrying no less than five pistols in worn, gunpowder-blackened holsters.
“General Augusta. I’m actually thinking the king would like to see how well I’ve trained Lady Sparrowpeak’s daughter,” Helias took Sara’s chin, tilting her head up to the ogre. He noted that she was studiously looking at the ogre’s feet, a despondent mask fitted firmly over her expression.
“Good. You seem to have done good work with her and you should be proud!” Augusta growled, leaning in. “One day you must lend her to my husband and me.”
“She’s your wife not your…whatever,” growled a new voice. It was now Helias’s turn to bow to the new arrival. He had to bow pretty low. The new arrival was a goblin after all.
“General Glowron. What a pleasant surprise. I didn’t expect you to leave the eastern front against Erlenberg,” said Helias.
Only about twenty-five percent of what Helias said was complete horseradish. In contrast to Augusta, Glowron didn’t have any medals on his white dress tunic. Instead he wore two golden chains. One chain carried a small golden cartwheel, the other featured a musket crossed with a sword.
“It is surprising that the Army Chief and Chief of Logistics would join us for this campaign,” said Augusta.
“This is our final campaign and the Erlenbergians have redeployed to attack Erisdale. So our good king thought to bring me in.” Glowron pointed his sword cane at Helias. “In any case, you ought not to treat your wife like a slave, even if she’s a traitor’s daughter.”
“Slave? You’re one to talk, Glowron. How many humans have you worked to death in your camps?” Helias asked, arching an eyebrow.
Glowron’s eyes narrowed. “That’s a moot point. They’re human, not Alavari. I’m just saying you shouldn’t treat one of our own like that.”
Making a note to himself to apologise to Sara later, Helias grabbed his wife’s neck. He didn’t squeeze too hard. They’d practised this routine before, and so his wife did her best to pretend to choke as he pulled her down so she was bowing to Glowron. Sneering, Helias leaned down to meet the goblin’s eye.
“And that’s a moot point because I had the king's orders. Her mother wanted to defect to that bitch Titania and frankly so did she.” Helias let Sara go, and she came up, gasping for breath. “She’s learnt from that however, have you dear?”
“Yes, my husband,” stammered Sara.
Augusta nodded, sneering at the harorc. “You see, Glowron? We wouldn’t treat our own spouses like that, but her mother betrayed our beloved king and it seems clear Helias’s treatment has done her a world of good.”
Glowron rolled his eyes and began strutting down the Greenway. “Whatever, let’s get to our meeting. Do you know which of those dragon whelps we’ll be dealing with?”
“I hope it’s Fennokra. I like her,” said Augusta cheerfully.
“You know I honestly preferred when we were dealing with Lakadara. She tended to be fairly rational, until for some bloody reason she decided to leave,” Helias muttered.
“As long as they are working with us,” Glowron said, his cane tapping on the ground as they walked.
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At the end of the army’s camp, preventing anybody from wanting to desert, all six remaining dragons were sitting on the Greenway’s floor. Chatting to them was Thorgoth and Berengaria.
It was this sight that the trio of generals approached and what made Helias’s stomach churn. His only comfort was that at least he wasn’t alone, he could feel Sara’s grip on his arm tightening even further.
From what Helias had heard from the dragonets, they were not as big as their mother, who had been the size of a three story mansion. The fact that Frances had killed the dragonets mother hammered in Helias’s mind as he took in the six purple beasts of legend.
Each one of them featured clawed hands able to pin an orc to the ground. They could, with a lash of their serpent tails, flatten huts. Their jaws were large enough to bite off half a horse in one gulp.
And Thorgoth and Berengaria were seated on stools in front of the dragons, glasses of water in hand and claws. The king was dressed in his armour. His chief wife was not in armour, but was wearing a short-sword and wand strapped to her leg.
“Your Majesty. We have arrived as you’ve asked,” said Glowron, dipping his head, one hand holding onto his long braided white hair. Helias and Augusta mirrored his bow, whilst Sara dropped into as low a curtsy as she could manage.
“General Helias. General Augusta and Lady Sparrowhawk. What a pleasant surprise,” said Thorgoth. He and Berengaria stood up, walking to Sara. The harpy-orc remained very still, not daring to even look up as the king and his queen stood over her.
“I know why you brought her with us on campaign instead of just leaving her alone at the Warflock Eerie, but why to this meeting, Helias?” Thorgoth asked.
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“I thought it would please you to see how I’ve fulfilled my obligations to you, Your Majesty,” said Helias.
Thorgoth pursed his lips, so it was Queen Berengaria who leered down at Sara. “It does please me, General Helias. I was wondering if Lyra’s daughter had her pride taken down a notch.”
Sara nodded. “I have been humbled and come to see you and his Majesty’s vision, my queen.”
Helias nodded, smiling approvingly as did Thorgoth. Berengaria grinned.
Suddenly, the queen lashed out with her right leg. The balled-up claws slammed into Sara’s stomach, sending her tumbling to the ground.
Helias froze, hands opening and immediately closing. He couldn’t move. He knew the consequence of resistance as Berengaria kicked Sara again so hard that she rolled gasping harorc over onto her back. Tears now streamed down his wife’s cheeks.
“Your mother was a real pain in the ass. So proud of her Warflock, so certain of her authority that she had the audacity to try to reach out to the traitor Titania. I wonder how she felt, running from our guards, getting peppered with crossbow bolts.” Berengaria ran a claw down Sara’s tear-stained face. “I wonder how she would have felt knowing her daughter would be married off and taught how to be our loyal subject?”
Helias was holding his breath, trying to appear cool. The feathered clawed leg the queen was using to ‘caress’ his wife’s cheek was the one with the sword strapped to it. It was well within reach of Sara to seize it and stab Berengaria.
He knew it was bait. But did Sara?
He could see Sara’s eyes briefly glance at the dagger before she croaked, “Please, don’t hurt—aagh—” Berengaria’s claws now seized her throat. Sara writhed, gasping for breath, she tried to keep her arms straight, and not to grab onto the claws on her neck.
“Dear, that’s enough,” said Thorgoth.
“Oh fine.” Berengaria let the sobbing, gasping harorc go. “I thought she would put up more resistance. At least try to pry my claws off of herself. You have really done a number on her, Helias.”
The tauroll smiled. He wasn’t sure how. He just hoped that the off-kilter sensation he felt, that made everything seem off balance, wasn’t showing on his lips.
“I did and had a lot of pleasure doing so.” Getting to one knee, he grabbed a fistful of Sara’s hair. Before he pulled back, he tapped on her neck twice, a carefully prearranged signal that he hoped she would remember.
He yanked her up, and she stumbled onto her feet as he did so, whimpering plaintively. “My lord husband—”
“Thank me.” He slapped her, not with the palm of his hand, but with his fingers. It allowed him to make a loud sound without much impact. She turned her head just as they’d practiced.
“Thank you, milord,” she croaked.
“Thank your queen.” Grabbing Sara by the back of her neck, he guided her down to a low bow to Berengaria.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Sara stammered.
“Excellent. Here’s your reward.” Helias dropped his wife onto the ground and extended his hoof.
Berengaria blinked. “Helias what are you—Oh.”
Sara, gasping, crawling on her hands took Helias’s hoof and started to kiss it. Already Helias could feel the crawling sensation of just plain wrongness that wormed up his leg.
“Right, that’s enough general,” said Thorgoth, both eyebrows arched. Helias froze but Sara dared not. He knew though that the same thought he had was running through his mind. Was he not convinced?
“Your Majesty?” Helias asked, pulling his leg back. Sara remained prostrated at his feet, her eyes hidden, but not the tears that dripped onto the dirt.
Thorgoth glanced at the dragons. “You have done your job very well, but I don’t believe our guests care much for this display.”
The largest of the six, rolled her plate-sized eyes. She bore a scar on her right cheek, marking her as Velkandra. “No, punish the traitor’s daughter all you want General Helias. We dragons understand why you should not trust those of tainted blood.”
“Of course,” said Helias, bowing low. “May we?”
Thorgoth gestured to his generals. “You may, and General Glowron, if you do have concerns, you may speak to me in private, but I needed the Warflock Eerie subjugated. Helias was the right tauroll for the job and he deserved a reward for services rendered.”
The goblin general narrowed his eyes at Helias for a brief second, before turning and dipping his head to the king. “I understand, Your Majesty.”
Smiling, Thorgoth pointed at Sara, who. “You, Sara Sparrowing. Be grateful that we have allowed you to attend this meeting. You may sit at your husband’s hooves.”
“Yes Your Majesty,” said Sara, shuffling over to sit beside Helias. Thinking quickly, he grabbed Sara’s hair and gently tugged her until she was sitting in front of his right leg. Adjusting his seat, Helias pushed his knee against Sara’s back.
It looked like a show of dominance, of positioning himself higher than his wife. However, it also let Sara rest herself against his leg and she did so.
Thorgoth coughed into his fist. “My generals, I’ve called you here to discuss some brief but important matters. First off, I am aware Helias and the six are familiar with each other, but please, introduce yourselves everybody.”
Velkandra grinned. “I am Velkandra. Second eldest of Telkandra’s spawn.”
The purple dragon to her immediate right raised her neck. She’d been lying on the ground, her golden eyes half-open, giving her an almost lazy look. “I am Fennokra. The third eldest.”
“Caldra, the fourth and strongest,” growled the largest and most muscular looking of the dragons.
“Just Yolandra,” said the fifth dragon. She was the smallest of the dragons, and one of her right front claws was broken. Her eyes narrowed on Helias.
No. Helias blinked. They were narrowed on Sara.
“And I’m Makentra,” said the sixth and youngest dragon. On his right shoulder, his scales bore a self-cut diamond shaped mark. Helias recalled it was because the dragon said he wanted to be different and instantly recognized from his siblings.
“I’m General Glowron. Chief of Staff of the Army of Alavaria and too old for this shit,” grumbled the goblin. There were some chuckles from Thorgoth, Berengaria, Augusta and even Helias to this. Glowron smirked slightly. “I command the main infantry and artillery contingent of this army.”
“I’m General Augusta, Countess of Gleihof and commander of the air wings,” said Augusta. She glanced at Helias who smiled.
“You know me, I’m General Helias, and I am commanding the cavalry.” He turned to Thorgoth. “Your Majesty, if you were to summon us, something important must have happened.”
Queen Berengaria sighed. “Well, our intelligence has finally come in and we can confirm and dismiss some of the rumour and speculation we’ve been hearing. However, it’s changed our plans a bit.”
“When we assembled this army, we intended to bring it down on the Erisdalian army led by King Jerome and Queen Forowena and smash it. With the help of the dragons, we intended to slowly close into their walls through digging entrenching earthworks and then once we took the first terrace of Kairon Aoun, we were going to close in and engage the enemy in close quarters combat.” The king pursed his lips. “But we’ve managed to correlate and confirm several new pieces of information. For one, you may have been wondering why the humans have decided to position their army so close to Minairen when we have dragons and why here. We were wondering that as well.”
“Our first piece of information came from our agents still in Erisdale. We knew the Traditionalist faction lost Erisdale City. What we didn’t know was that the Traditionalists surrendered. There was a brief battle between the fanatic elements of the Traditionalists and Queen Janize, but she has ceded the throne to King Jerome and his newly declared heir, Sir Martin of Conthwaite.”
“I believe he was present at Erlenberg,” muttered Glowron.
August hissed, “He and his command also shot many of my companions out of the sky at Freeburg.” The harpy-ogre frowned. “Hold on, if Janize surrendered. Then…her troops are still intact then?”
“Not all of them, but the remainder are being incorporated into the Lightning Battalion and are marching toward Kairon Aoun as we speak. They are, however, not our most urgent concern as it will take time for them to organise,” said Thorgoth.
Berengaria nodded. “More importantly, they’re not the only soldiers coming. An army from Erlenberg and the Kingdom of Lapanteria are marching to Kairon Aoun. We have walked into what appears to be a very carefully laid trap where the intent is to lure us to attack an important and obvious target, before reinforcements are collapsed on us.”
“How many?” Helias asked.
Thorgoth laced his hands together. “The Erlenbergian army appears to be less than ten thousand, but the entire Lapanterian Legion, at least ten thousand is coming and the Lightning Battalion alone is around fifteen thousand. If the enemy combines with them, they’ll be at least twenty-thousand.”
“Shit,” whispered Augusta. Helias glanced at Sara, but her back was still to him and while she was leaning against his leg, she was staying very still.
“Their strategy has one significant problem, though,” said Glowron. “If we smash their army here, we’ll be able to take out the different armies one at a time.”
“Yes, but that is why we’ll have to abandon a trench approach. We’ll need to assault at least their first tier directly to establish a front line,” said Thorgoth.
“And how are we going to do that? With all due respect, Your Majesty, their artillery will tear us to pieces and dragonscale isn’t exactly proof against a twelve-pounder cannonball to the face,” said Augusta.
The king took a deep breath and ran a hand through his head. “Well, I have a plan. I don’t like it, but it’ll work. Let’s just say…there is a reason I decided to provoke an artillery barrage today.”
Helias’s jaw dropped. “Sir, are you serious?”
“What do you mean—” Fennokra’s eyes widened. “You don’t mean to go out there yourself and shield the army?”
The king sighed. “Unfortunately, I can’t shield the army, but they won’t be able to resist targeting their cannon on me. It would be the practical decision to target me to make sure I can’t retaliate with spells.”
“Eventually, they will realise that and start retargeting their cannon on the rest of the army,” said Glowron. The goblin grimaced, tapping the ground with his cane. “But if we get our smokescreens up and if the dragons are willing to rush in as well, we’ll be able to clear the Greenway and assault the first terrace.”
“We can take that opportunity to fly in as well and harass their cannon,” said Velkandra. She flashed the Alavari a smirk. “We cannot have King Thorgoth dying.”
Berengaria flapped her wings, snuggling against her king’s side. “Then it’s settled. But dear, you’re not doing this again.”
“Alright alright. At least you won’t be tickling me,” said Thorgoth. “If there are no further questions, we’ll confirm the order of battle.”
Helias took a deep breath. “Your Majesty, if you may indulge me, I do have a question.”
“Sure.”
“It’s about what happens when we win this battle. I think it’s become clear that this will be the war’s deciding battle. Neither side has anything left to give. So assuming we defeat their army, what happens next?”
The king arched an eyebrow. “We sweep into Athelda-Aoun, raze it, and continue onward.”
“Alright, assuming we do that, and we capitulate the human kingdoms, what then? We will have conquered Erisdale, Erlenberg, Lapanteria, and eventually destroy Titania’s rebels. Then we’ll be able to take control of Roranoak in time—”
“Where are you going with this, Helias?” Augusta asked. The harpy-ogre didn’t sound scornful. Her tail was stiff and shoulders coiled.
Helias drummed his fingers on his knee. “I suppose my question is, after we’ve won this war and crushed the humans under our feet, how do we rule over all these humans?”
All eyes were on Thorgoth and Berengaria, even those of the dragons. Glowron had gone very still. Augusta’s wings ruffled slightly before clamping to herself. Helias was trying to meet his king’s eyes. And yet Thorgoth only had eyes for Berengaria and she only had eyes for him.
It was like Helias, no—like nobody else was with Thorgoth and Berengaria. Not even the six dragons that towered over them.
“We’ll have to break up the human fiefs into Alavari provinces and assign them to new, loyal Alavari. Probably former members of the army who have proven themselves.”
Berengaria nodded. “Co-opt the surviving human elites who surrender. Queen Janize’s soldiers cannot be that loyal.”
“There will be rebellions, but we can make examples of them. Enough examples and the humans will eventually stop fighting, or run out of bodies to throw at us,” said Thorgoth.
“Are we not offering terms to the humans after we destroy them in this battle my liege?” Glowron asked.
“Do you think they will accept, General Glowron? After fighting for so long, would they not continue to resist? We will have to kill a lot of them, but eventually, they’ll get the point and stop.”
Augusta swallowed. “I…don’t mean to be impudent, Your Majesties, but would the humans be content to live like cattle?”
“No. This will take time, we might need the services of yourself and your siblings Velkandra, but with the Otherworlders gone, their mages killed, their leaders executed, we will not offer them any other choice.” Thorgoth looked up at the six dragons. “Would you be amenable to continue to work with us? In return, we’ll allow you to settle in the human lands of your choice.”
The dragon siblings glanced at one another. “We did discuss this,” said Fennokra. A puff of smoke wafted from her nostrils. “And since our lives are longer, we would acquiesce to that arrangement.”
Ruffling her wings, Berengaria coughed loudly. “Alright, if that is all, let us confirm the order of battle and the plans for the attack.”
The generals nodded, taking the queen’s signal as the sign that the discussion about the war’s end was over.
Yet as they talked about the revised attack plan for the first terrace. Helias’s stomach churned at what he’d learned. What he and his wife had just learned about their king and queen’s plans for when the war was over.