Orc Lord

Night was upon the land. Bugs with powdered wings swarmed around lanterns and torches, while the biting and stinging creatures hid in the shadows. A mosquito landed on the arm of the broodmother, and one of her harpie handmaidens swatted it away as if personally offended.

“Shoo! Shoo!”

Another handmaiden hissed. “It is the filthy water. It attracts bugs.”

“Broodmother,” petitioned the third handmaiden, “may we perch somewhere higher? Where the bugs won’t fly?”

“No.” With a cool and somewhat regal voice, the broodmother refused her handmaiden’s suggestion. “The trees are our cover. We mustn’t be seen here. Not yet.”

The three handmaidens lowered themselves into crooked bows. “The broodmother is wise,” they said in unison.

The broodmother wasn’t just another harpie, as was plain to see, but a leader-type harpie evolution. She stood head and shoulders above her handmaidens: just as shrew-like, but less decrepit. Her powerful wings were coated in shiny blue and black feathers. Her dry brown hair was spotted with them also, as were her arms and shoulders, but a large patch was missing on the right side of her head. It looked as if the hair and feathers had been violently torn out and the skin had later scarred over. An old wound.

Two of the handmaidens took to cleaning the broodmother’s wings to pass the time, and she curled a shiny talon beckoningly. It was not just the broodmother and her three handmaidens here.

A rather ordinary harpie, if a bit dirty and oily from avoiding the fouled water and having no personal groomers, obeyed the broodmother’s command and approached. She lowered her hunched form into a bow and waited to be spoken to.

“Chitrathia,” the broodmother said, “soon, our allies will call for us. Do you understand your task?”

“Yes, broodmother,” Chitrathia raised her head. “I am here to translate what the humans are saying and deliver your wise words.”

The broodmother nodded. “Make no mistakes when translating. If anything is unclear, express it. The tribe will live and die by what is said tonight.”

“The broodmother gives me a great task,” Chitrathia bowed down again. “I will tell your wise words and theirs perfectly.”

The broodmother gestured again with her gleaming talon, this time to send the harpie away. She peered up past the tree branches at the moon, feeling time pass by slowly.

Tonight, she was meeting with the human leader of Claymore, so that she could put her tribe in danger in order to protect them from extinction. It was a cruel season indeed this fall. She resisted reaching up and scratching at her old wound while thinking about the crazed pig who gave it to her.

My life was spared many moons ago, but now our nests are being threatened, the harpie broodmother heaved a sigh.

“Join Claymore in the war against Andorin,” the mad flaming pig had demanded, “or we will trample all your eggs from now until there are no more. You will join the Arachne in oblivion. Choose: will all of you die, or will only most of you die?”

The broodmother found it unfair, but the way of the world was that the strong ruled. Although harpies could fly proudly in the air, they shared their nests with the nagas crawling on the ground. The flaming pig knew that.

How young and stupid I was, to put my own survival before that of the tribe. The consequences of my actions are finally catching up with me.

That it was she, a sinner, and no one else who evolved into the next broodmother was a misfortune for the tribe.

Wisdom came too late to me. I must make the most of it now.

The time ticked by, moment by moment, and finally a group of covered wagons rolled up in the night. She and her harpies boarded them and were brought to a secluded cabin on a hillside. Thick sheets were draped over them as they made their way inside. It was a very isolated place, but their hosts were still cautious of being seen.

The broodmother was now surrounded not only by her handmaidens, but by human guards. The cabin was sparse, with nothing but a few lanterns to light its interior and a wooden table with two chairs facing each other. King Claudius Claymore was already seated.

Finally, I meet the king of foul waters himself, the broodmother thought humorously.

She knew, of course, that it was the humans upriver who dirtied the water, and not these humans, but the ordinary harpies didn’t grasp that, and it was tradition to mock them now after their long years of feuding.

A tradition I must now break.

Without invitation, the harpie broodmother sat down on the one empty chair, casting off the sheet for her handmaidens to hold and fluttering her wide and beautiful wings.

She observed the human across from her. He had a moderately active build, brown hair with salt-gray streaks, and a short but full beard. She recognized signs of human aging in the wrinkles beside his eyes, as humans had smooth skin for the first half of their lives.

He must have offspring of his own by now. He should understand the threat to our nests, but he won’t.

Because the broodmother was wise, she knew that her unfortunate partner in misery was a fool who didn’t realize he was being puppeted.

“This is our first time meeting face to face, King of Claymore. I am Titania, broodmother—which is to say queen and mother—of the harpies. Peace and blue skies to you.”

The human king nodded and stroked his beard, a curious twinkle in his eyes. “Right, well, we’ll be working together from now on. Too many titles bog things down during war, so you can call me Claudius. Is it fine if I call you Titania, Queen Dowager of the harpies?”

Titania frowned and glanced back at Chitrathia, her translator. “Is that correct?” she asked. “Queen Dowager?”

“Yes, broodmother.”

“And you conveyed that I was the mother of all harpies?”

“Yes, broodmother.”

Her translator insisted that she was being faithful in her work, so the only option remaining was that the foul water king had misunderstood on his own.

“It is a small matter, but I hope it isn’t foreshadowing a greater error.” She shook her head and faced King Claudius again. “Very well, we shall call each other by our given names.”

The King of Claymore nodded. Titania truly wondered how he could look so pleased in their grim circumstances.

“I have gotten word back secretly from the surrounding nations. They won’t assist us, but they’ve refused to help Andorin as well. Looks like it’s two-on-one favoring this side for a change.”

The human chuckled, and the broodmother lifted her gleaming talons. “Unfortunately not. My kin have discovered that the Orcs are siding with our enemy in this war.”

The smile dropped from King Claymore’s face. “Does that mean this is a two-front war?” he held his chin worriedly. “If you’re stuck in the forest fighting Orcs, it will just be Andorin and I in the marshes.”

“I have already negotiated with the mother of their Lord,” Titania informed him. “We will fight on your lands, not ours.”

And as long as we do so until the bitter end, they will not set a single dirty hoof near our nests.

“Well that’s a relief! Good work, Titania!” King Claymore leaned back in his seat and laughed as his former tension disappeared without a trace. “Is there any chance I could meet with the Orcs’ Queen Dowager too? Maybe we could pull them to our side.”

Again with the ‘Queen Dowager,’ the broodmother glanced at Chitrathia and back again. Well, at least this time it’s accurate.

“I don’t recommend it. She is a madwoman, and it works in her favor for the war to drag on as long as possible.”

“I see. A shame, then.” He didn’t question it. “Let’s talk about tactics while we’re here. Since there are two enemy forces now, what say we split up and tackle one each?”

What a foolish human, Titania marveled. But it’s easier for me this way.

“I agree. Cooperating would take more trust and training than we have time for.”

Taking their archers to the skies would obliterate Andorin’s forces too easily, the broodmother thought. I imagine that’s why I was told not to do so. But the minute they betray us by going near our nests, I will no longer be beholden to my word. Oh swine of fire and death, my old enemy, I am no longer a fool as I once was. If you betray us, you will know why all say the broodmother is wise, and you will regret trying to toy with the Queen of the Skies.

***

In Andorin’s royal palace, Vyra paced anxiously in her room. Her spy, Yui Inari, watched her calmly from the doorway.

“My Lord, we’re only wasting darkness here.”

“But—!” She spun around and frowned in distress, wrapping her arms around herself and speaking softly. “It’s too soon. I only got to see him once.”

Inari was unphased by his master’s appeal, since he knew she would regret delaying here. “The war could start any day now.”

Vyra took a deep breath and snorted. “Fine. I know I have to go. This isn’t goodbye, anyway.”

Still with a bitter taste in her mouth, Vyra allowed a blindfold to be tied around her eyes and she followed Inari back through the secret passage they had used as an entrance.

She bumped into Inari at the end of the tunnel, as he’d suddenly stopped moving.

“Wait here quietly,” he said in a barely audible voice before vanishing. Not too far in front of her, probably in the room full of wine barrels she remembered from her infiltration, Vyra heard Inari talking to someone with a familiar, honey-sweet voice. Aside from her racing heart, the rest of her body froze still.

“Your highness, you should be in bed.”

“!! Gods, you startled me. You must be one of father’s shadows.”

Though she couldn’t see it, blindfolded and hiding, the third prince held a hand to his chest and exhaled.

“Do you need something?” Inari asked.

“Well…” Corinth glanced around the drab storage room, his eyes lingering on the grain cart and empty bags waiting against the wall. “I had an inkling. She’s leaving tonight, isn’t she?”

Inari said nothing in reply, which the prince apparently took as his cue to explain.

“Father stopped meeting with her, which means their discussions are finished. Our ledgers for the coming week are back to their normal amounts, and I found this when I went looking around.” He nodded at the empty cart. “A grain cart in the wine storage.”

“You’re very astute, your highness,” Inari said. His voice betrayed nothing, and his face was hidden by black fabric, but Vyra wondered if his pride was hurt.

“May I have some parting words with her?” Corinth asked.

Vyra’s heart fluttered. Say yes. Tell him yes. She tried to telepathically signal Inari, despite having no such skill.

“I will have to report it to his majesty.”

“That’s fine.”

Vyra felt Inari’s hand on her elbow, guiding her once again. “Keep it brief and quiet,” he whispered to her. She nodded back with enthusiasm.

Once she was in the room, the secret passage was sealed, and her blindfold was removed, the third prince’s countenance graced her sight and she smiled.

“I wasn’t expecting a send-off party,” she said, playing it cool.

“I didn’t think I would actually manage to catch you on your way out,” Corinth scratched bashfully at his cheek. “But, it occurred to me that you really are fighting a war in our favor. It never came up during our chat. I heard you’ll be on the front lines, so I wanted to tell you thanks and be careful. And, maybe, if you have the leeway, could you look after my brother Verdi out there?”

Vyra stepped forward and gently tousled the small human’s white-blonde hair. He flinched and moved away in surprise.

“E-excuse me, p-please don’t s-suddenly… without permission…”

Flushed red and stuttering, he had a difficult time getting his words across, but his point made it.

Vyra chuckled and smiled softly down at him. “Sorry. You’re very sweet; I couldn’t help myself. No matter what, I promise your brother and I will both come back alive.”

With a thankful, but also puzzled look on his face, the prince replied, “Thank you…”

“Queen Vyra.” Inari called out in a whisper and gestured to the grain cart. She smiled wryly, and the prince took a step toward the door.

“I-I’ll be going back to bed now. Good luck.”

He vanished quickly around the corner, and Vyra sighed contentedly to herself. Suddenly, she wasn’t as resistant to being carted around like baggage for a day.

He’ll still be here when I return, she told herself. The fluttering in her heart turned into bold pounding, And there’s a war waiting for me in the meantime.