Rick sat on his wooden stool, the “Lord slaying” stool. The room was large, but he felt stuffy and just about ready to get some fresh air. More than anything, he was wondering what he was missing from the picture. Before him there was an Orc, a human, and a Mousegirl. Behind him stood Kiara and Urtha. At his left and at a respectful distance away was Arietta; mirroring her position was Sheel to his right.
He was, effectively, in the eye of the storm. Everyone in the room was trying to direct their arguments his way, but kept throwing words against each other. It was clear the people here had already taken sides on the matter.
“As a proven warrior, she has every right to pick amongst the unmarried,” Sheel spoke calmly, arms crossed.
“No human can be forced into marriage, not legally,” Arietta replied, a chilly icicle of a maiden, her posture exactly the same. “Didn’t the tribe pass laws permitting divorce?”
“Laws that permit a marriage to be reviewed,” Urtha muttered. “There have been no rulings on the formation of a marriage bond.”
That had been a nightmare. The tribe was set up as a sort of military institution. The leader might be able to dictate what to do, but customs and traditions were something else entirely. Typically the Orcs would be the only voices that would be heard, but Rick had dissolved some of that by allowing the humans to unionize. This was what had allowed the concept of divorce to be even brought up.
The current iteration was that two Orcs and two humans, both randomly chosen, would get to vote on whether someone’s marriage was acceptable. It would’ve been impossible if Urtha hadn’t volunteered to be a permanent fifth member and tie-breaker of the “jury.”
“Not yet,” Kiara happily reminded the room, earning glares from the two Orcs and the Hobgoblin.
“Even if they married and it were reviewed, his sole companion is incapable of battle.” Sheel’s gaze moved to the Mousegirl, the maiden shrinking as she kept her spot in front of the human. “And Veris has committed no faults.”
“She dragged me out of my home!” The young man spoke up.
Rick rubbed at the bridge of his nose, trying to bring himself to bother to remember the guy’s name and failing.
“It was proof you’re poorly defended,” Urtha snorted.
“Perhaps you should stay in your family’s home until this is resolved?” Arietta offered.
The man growled. “I am all that is left.” His hand waved at the Mousegirl. “She is my aunt, the only thing that I have. I don’t have enough to get another!” His voice rose, eyes flicking to Rick, the heat in his tone vanished as their gazes met. The man wavered, lowering his eyes to the stool he sat on, and then to the floor. “Not like there are options to be had,” he petulantly added.
Right, because Rick had effectively bought every “available” maiden and refused to put them up for sale. The maidens themselves didn’t seem put off by this since being bonded to the Lord was seen as a boon. The rest of the city on the other hand… It was something they were still working on, trying to figure out how to get the ball rolling.
“Have you considered that bonding to the little warrior might change your fortune?” Kiara threw in the metaphorical rope, leaning closer.
The young man’s lips thinned, shooting a glare at the Orc. “If I took her in, I’d lose my home as well.”
Rick leaned forward, propping his elbows against his knees. The move immediately silenced the room; everyone’s gaze turned to him. “Could you elaborate on that?”
“I can barely keep us fed,” He gestured at the Mousegirls. “I have no coin to give.”
Cocking his head slightly, Rick arched a brow. “And if you did?" It shouldn’t be hard. Sinco’s coffers weren’t infinite or extensive, but they weren’t meager either. Thorley had been hoarding for a while now… most likely a war-fund.
The man tensed. It was the Mousegirl that stepped forward. “My Lord,” she said in a squeak, lowering to her knees.
A moment of silence followed. Rick felt a nudge on his back, from Kiara most likely. He nearly sighed, having forgotten that protocol. “Yes? Speak.” Property could not speak to a noble without permission. He’d tried to get people to move past that, but that was as much culture as it had once been law.
“I am of the Cog-Horde,” she spoke hastily. “The master owns a mill, but not enough maidens to make it work. I do what I can, but it is not enough. I would need four other sisters at least.”
There was no real mystery as to why they could afford having four Mousegirls but couldn’t sustain having one Orc. The problem was ownership. The tribal maiden was “free,” thus any work she carried out for someone was work she’d seek compensation for. Even the tribe’s work as the city’s military force was being properly paid. Not enough in Rick’s view, but more than the tribe thought fair. For the Orcs, to be a warrior was just natural. They’d get whatever food they might need from the tribe, and would put their life at risk without a second thought. The only place where money played a role was when they needed to barter with others not of the tribe.
When the local economy was built around slavery, mom-and-pop businesses couldn’t sustain an employee. That was something only Rollo’s deep pockets could afford.
“My Lord, if I may?” Kiara leaned closer, pulling out a medallion and pretending to fiddle with it for a moment. Rick couldn’t spot the motions for the spell, but felt the tingling of its effects as her voice became private to only him. “Neither he nor his girl want the Orc in their life,” she whispered. “The only reason why coin is brought up is because they fear refusing her outright. In their eyes, she would kill them without hesitation,” she spoke with a boorish tone. “It is why the mouse brings up the name of her group.”
Rick looked over his shoulder at the Succubus’ flat expression. She was bothered by something but had gotten far better at hiding it behind apathy. Now wasn’t the time for that, however.
The spell ended, and Urtha was glaring at Kiara.
“Just an explanation about context,” Rick waved off.
His mind was on the Mousegirl’s words. If the horde had been mentioned, then it put him in somewhat of a bind. Much how the Orcs had a near monopoly on the military power of the city, the Mousegirls held a lot of sway within the city’s functions. A simple example was how quickly crime began to drop after Rafaella bonded him. Overnight, the number of reports on who had done what had shot up, all of them involving an eerie amount of details.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Rick wasn’t sure what they would make of this case when it reached their ears, but his impression of them had been that their in-group mentality was tighter than even the tribe’s. At the same time, he couldn’t just ignore the woman’s attempt to push him into a decision. Rick agreed that the guy should’ve been perfectly able to say “no.” That didn’t mean he would let people just name-drop factions to get him on their side.
“Am I right in assuming this matter would be dropped if his refusal was accompanied by proof that his aunt can keep him safe?”
His question might as well have been a claim that he was about to sprout wings and fly. Everyone in the room just looked at him with wide eyes.
Urtha was the first to recover enough to speak. “It… would be acceptable grounds for refusal, Father.”
With a nod, he turned his attention to the young Orc. “Do you accept that the requirements to keep a human safe are not the same as being a warrior?”
Her only response was a quick nod. “Yes, Father. That much is clear.” She glanced at the Mousegirl for a moment, lips thinning as she turned back to him. “And… I know of your ways. I would only ask if this is one of the changes you have promised, or a trick.”
Rick blinked a little, ignoring the swell in pride from Urtha next to him. His Orcish partner kept from smugly looking his way even though she very much felt like she wanted to. She was pushing the feeling through the bond, in fact.
“It is no trick, only fact.” He took a deep breath, pointing at Urtha with his thumb. “Do you remember the weapons she wielded during the fight? The explosive capabilities it had?”
“It is hard to forget, Father.” The maiden stood straighter. “She used it to defeat the Champion.”
“I’ve been producing enough explosives that about a third of the city could have one such single-use explosive spear.” Rick kept his expression neutral, even if he wanted to shoot Urtha a smug grin of his own. “Would you say she holds the potential to defend her human if she were to wield such a weapon?”
The pregnant pause that followed had all three tribe members sharing looks amongst one another. He was only bonded to Urtha though, but the nervousness was palpable in the air.
“Are you saying you would share the weapon, Father?” Sheel’s tone was cautious, not as nervous as Urtha looked though.
“The day may come where the people in the city might be able to make their own.” Hopefully not if he had any say on it. The last thing the city needed was that the average lethality was pushed upwards. A small fire or accident would turn not just a house but entire sections of the city to rubble. “Some of the concepts the tribe ran on cannot work. The balance was held because Orcs were the only thing standing between the ferals and their humans. Here we have walls and bombs.”
His eyes moved back to the subjects. The young Orc appeared like she’d swallowed a bitter pill. The human looked like he wanted to cheer. The Mousegirl was the only one that appeared ready to bolt. Most likely because she understood she might be asked to make a demonstration.
“I… acknowledge the truth in your words, Father.” The warrior straightened out, lifting her chin. “I am ready for your judgment.”
“As am I,” The man quickly added, lowering to his knee.
With a nod, he glanced at the young Orc. “You two are to temporarily bond, and you will lend a hand in the mill a minimum of eight hours every week. This is to last a month. Anything after that point would be under the condition that all parties agree to the extension.”
There were no complaints. All three of them grimaced at the proclamation, none looking pleased about it. Rick didn’t bother to pretend he expected them to be ecstatic about it, though. With a gesture, the trio were dismissed.
The moment they were across the door, he turned to Urtha.
“This is a test,” she said to him, not a question.
Another shrug. “I’ve done what I could to give her the chance; it’s up to her to succeed. Best case scenario, they find out they work great together.”
“Now that’s done and over, I’ll be off.” Kiara didn’t wait a moment to walk off, taking one of the side-entrances.
As soon as she did, Arietta approached with a piece of parchment. “A transcript of the trial, my Lord.”
Rick gave it a quick look over, suppressing the urge to ask how she’d pulled it off. It hadn’t been in person; she’d been standing stock still the whole time. Now that he thought about it, her breed was called a Puppeteer… maybe there was some sort of doll somewhere she could use to write?
“Thanks.” He noted she was hovering nearby, looking at him expectantly. “That’ll be all; you’ve been a great help today as well.”
With a bow, she turned to leave.
That left him with Sheel and Urtha.
“I’ll tell the girl about the nature of this test,” The Hobgoblin muttered, scratching her chin. “This thought about those weapons in everyone’s hands… it pushes things, Father, I hope you know that.”
“The way I see it, we have two options moving forward,” He sighed. “These young warriors don’t know how to get a partner that isn’t through the old ways. Option one is we help them learn new ways.”
Urtha growled. “And option two?”
“People start getting hurt,” He shrugged. “The militia will start training on how to wield the explosives sooner than later. I can only imagine that it’ll be a matter of time before someone smuggles the stuff to anyone willing to pay.” His smile turned sanguine. “Like some disgruntled Mousegirl looking to replace their competition’s pillow with a bomb.”
Sheel’s eyes widened. “You think they…?”
“I know it’s what I would do if pushed into a corner.” He looked at Urtha. “It’s the sort of worst-case scenario I’d rather avoid. I’m working on proper, strict inventory management guidelines. But that just covers one side of things. I think you should be a teacher to those girls, show them some of the options to move ahead.”
She was startled. “What? Why me?”
“Because you and him started off on all the bad footing.” Sheel didn’t look too pleased, combing her fiery hair through her fingers, sparks dancing against her touch. “We’ll need Spikes.”
“Dia?” Rick cocked his head.
“She’s the only tribe member that knows how city-folk think. At least the only one of us the others respect.” She made a point to shoot him a cold stare. “This change can’t be just the tribe. We can adapt, but it cannot be a one-sided effort.”
Nodding slightly, he could see her point. He didn’t like it either, but it wasn’t as if he could just snap his fingers and make the slave aspects of the culture vanish. And getting those parts off the table was crucial. He needed a well-educated workforce if he wanted to push the technology forward.
It would’ve been so much easier to just throw around some laws and rules and use the militia to coerce them into place. But that would just make it likelier the tribe would react just as strongly. There was a metaphorical line in the sand, and he couldn’t just march right over it.
“Sure, I’ll-”
The room’s doors opened. A haggard-looking maiden panted her way inside. “My Lord!” She fell to her knees the instant she was through the door. “We received a message.”
“Message? From Aubria?”
The Doggirl shook her head wildly. “From the forest.”
She reached from her flank, laying a short spear in front of her. The stick was oddly shaped, nearly twice the thickness of his thumb, and about as long as he was tall. Urtha was the one to snatch it, inspecting it thrice over before turning to show it to Rick for inspection.
There were words carved onto the shaft.
“I know of the dark ascension?” Rick read out loud as he took a closer look at the weapon. On closer inspection, the thing looked like a disproportionately massive arrow. The wood tingled to the touch; clearly, there was elemental energy still lingering within.
“There were dozens of them, littering the area between the forest and Sinco.” The Doggirl reported. “We’re still looking for the culprit, but it seems they left.”
“It seems they wanted to make sure the message reached its target.” Sheel’s expression tightened. “But who?”
Rick shook his head. “Whatever the case, this means our prisoner doesn’t get any more time to think things through.” He grumbled. “Time to get Embla to betray her friends.”
That was not a conversation he was looking forward to.