by Randi Darren
Frit gave him a salute at the same time Henry did.
“Lord, minimal losses,” growled Frit. “Perhaps one in twenty slain.”
Vince didn’t respond, but instead, fell down on his knees next to Elysia.
“My liege, I’m sorry. I couldn’t save your hand comp—”
Wrapping her up in his arms, he silenced her. He pulled her in close and tight. Hugging her roughly.
“Thank you, Elysia. You did more than I could have asked for. Any favor I can grant you is yours. Merely ask,” Vince whispered huskily into the long, pale ear of the woman.
And he meant it, too. He’d truly believed Daphne had paid the price for his foolishness. He should have let his men do their job.
The High Elf mage relaxed in his grasp, laying her head on his shoulder.
“My liege, I have no requests. You’ve given me a home, a family far beyond what I originally had, and a purpose. If I had to ask for anything, it would be to fill me up with your power again when you’re recovered. It was a pleasant experience. I had more power than any other Elf in legend. You only asked me to heal and fight for you. I’ll reward that trust in me. I swear it.
“Oh, Thera and Eva, too. I have to watch out for my sisters, after all.”
“Done.”
Al wasn’t in the mass of corpses. He’d lost half his cavalry here, and most of his infantry. But he himself wasn’t among them.
Elysia had gotten creative when given time to think on the situation. She used a major portion of the power left to her to raise a stone wall from the south all the way to the north, effectively completing the city wall project.
It was something no one would have thought of simply due to the power restrictions it had.
They’d have to add a gate later, and towers, but this was no longer a way in.
Vince had sent Frit and Henry west to assist with whatever needed to be done there.
Upon reaching the western wall, he found that they’d fared a little worse than he had, but not terribly.
Fes, Petra, Meliae, Karya, and Eva had worked together and taken control of the wall and operated it better than he could have.
There were no wilting heroines here. No princesses needing to be saved.
He’d been the only one who had needed saving.
The losses here were one in fourteen. A fraction of the numbers the humans had left behind.
A member of Kitch’s band by the name of Renzig had fallen. He had held the gate after it’d been blown open with a bomb. The Troll and her crew had been working to clear the wall of ladders and men alike.
During the performance of his duty, Renzig ended up being struck by another bomb that had been tossed in after the first. It’d been enough to tear through armor and Ogre skin alike.
Realizing he was going to die, Renzig had wedged themselves against the ruins of the gate, and died there. An Ogre was not something easily moved or shifted. In laying himself out the way he had, he’d bought the time Kitch needed to arrive to block the entrance.
With no food, as the Ratfolk had taken the order of “use the enemy’s food as a damn toilet” seriously, and wounded to care for, the rabble army fled.
Goblins cleared the fields on both sides, securing everything and anything usable, and disposing of the rest.
Vince didn’t ask how they’d disposed of it. He didn’t want to know.
The battle for Yosemite City ended in victory.
Epilogue
Vince walked alongside the wagon as it trundled toward the city. It was hard to believe that these fields had been flooded with blood six weeks past.
He could see his Gnomish siege engineers watching the horizon from the wall. Their Hobgoblin loaders stood at their side, ready and chatting amiably. Partnerships forged in the furnace of battle.
An Ogre stood up and could just barely be seen over the wall. It set down a High Elf at the base of a tower and then wandered off as the mage set off in the opposite direction.
All his Elves were mages at this point. Even the Dark Elves, who were such physical creatures that they had to be retaught how to use the magic.
Of course, this would happen when you spent a portion of every day charging those very same Elves with all the excess magic you could.
Apparently his Dryads approved wholeheartedly of the practice, as did the trees. Meliae had made an analogue to “pruning” a tree of its excess.
The small snippets of conversation and hushed whispers behind him died away.
“I think they finally believe, Lord,” Thera whispered from his side.
“My liege, don’t hold their doubt against them,” Elysia agreed.
“Yes, Master, they didn’t know,” Eva pleaded.
Vince chuckled and shook his head, casting a glance over his shoulder.
He’d been four weeks from home. The military had stopped purchasing slaves as army recruits when they’d realized that the enemy in the north would simply capture them, pop their collar off, and turn them back on the Empire.
So Vince had headed west to purchase supplies, new citizens, and sell products and loot.
There’d been quite a bit of armor and arms left over from the attack on Yosemite City. Deskil had rejected all of it when Vince asked if he wanted to smelt it down for material. Told him to sell it. It all had a “taint” to it, he said.
Even including purchasing new citizens, they’d made fifty thousand standards in profit. Apparently Dwarven-made equipment was in high demand by the Empire’s armed forces. Many of the blacksmiths they normally went to in the local area had been killed in the anti-Wastes riots.
Of course, Vince had only sold them the castoffs that Deskil felt weren’t up to the quality he wanted to give to Vince’s military.
All told, he was returning with two hundred new citizens of various walks of life. He’d even managed to pick up twenty more Ogres and Trolls. Kitch would be delighted. They were much harder to find, let alone get in such numbers.
Frit would be happy as well. A new batch of Beastmen tribes to add to his mixed units. Only Henry wouldn’t be quite pleased. He’d specifically asked for more Ratfolk, but there hadn’t been any available.
Apparently those tiny warriors had impressed their compatriots.
Vince would be heading out again in four weeks to purchase more citizens, sell more stock, and check in with the Ranger guild.
He’d given them all the information on the attack on the city, including that he’d seen Al leading it.
The guild was in a mess right now. They’d lost two outposts in the north, a great deal of trust from the populace, and were being pressured by the Empire.
They needed more news from Vince like a hole in the head. So they paid him to go on “vacation” for a month.
“No, I won’t hold it against them. But I will mock them for it later, if the situation arises.”
“Of course, dearest,” Daphne said amiably. She and Karya rarely left his side now.
Meliae had remained at home with Fes and Petra. They’d all declined coming with him on the journey and said they’d remain and keep watch over the city.
He suspected something was afoot but couldn’t put a finger on it.
As he got closer to the gate, he realized there was a likeness carved into the interior of the archway.
“Renzig’s Stand,” Vince said aloud, reading the plaque below the magically carved likeness of Renzig. With a nod of his head, Vince approved of it completely.
Reaching out as he passed, he laid his mangled left hand on Renzig’s shoulder. “Thanks,” Vince murmured.
Then Vince realized that small plaques had been affixed next to Renzig’s. Each held a name. A name of someone who had fallen in defense of the city.
“My doing, Sweetling,” Meliae called from the interior exit. “I didn’t think you’d mind.” She gave him a bright smile, holding up her hands to him. “You can punish me if you like it. Or punish me less if you don’t.”
Vince grinned back at
her and hugged her tightly when he got close enough.
“Good to see you. We’re adding two hundred, give or take. Made money, too.”
“Mm, my breadwinner,” Meliae purred at him, planting a heavy kiss on his lips.
Daphne and Karya snickered as they fell in behind Meliae. They still deferred to her in all things.
The Elves in turn fanned out behind Vince to the side of the road.
Frit, Henry, and Kitch walked up to him, giving him a crisp salute.
Vince set Meliae down and returned the salute.
“Two hundred recruits,” Vince said loudly. “We’ll be popping collars later today. Then assigning dormitories and units. Please come with your lieutenants so we can process them into your units quickly.
“In your case, Kitch, I got you twenty-three Ogres and Trolls. You’re welcome to attend the collar popping, but I imagine you’ll want to square your people away immediately.”
“Yes, Lord,” rumbled the big Troll woman. Then she gave him a toothy grin. “Will speak with Master Deskil for equipment. You approve?”
“I do, Kitch. You and your troop have earned all that I can give and more. And speaking of that, I purchased a gryphon from the beast masters. I want you to see what you can do about turning it into a mount for your people. They’re big enough to carry an Ogre off for a meal, so I figure you can ride them as mounts. If this one works, we’ll buy more.”
Kitch clapped her big mitts together and rubbed them eagerly. “Lord is good to us. Too good.”
“Dwarven steel armed and armored, mounted, flying Ogres and Trolls,” Thera said quietly.
“Should be fun. We’ll have our heavy cavalry unit after all.”
His captains saluted again and then left, talking between themselves.
“Husband,” Fes said from behind him.
Vince managed to turn around before Fes wrapped him up in a bone-crushing hug.
“Oh, hello to you too, Fes. Miss me?” Vince said, hugging her back.
“Yes. We did,” Fes said, pressing her forehead into his cheek. She lipped his ear once. “Challenge tomorrow?”
“Yes, challenge tomorrow. As we agreed,” Vince confirmed, rubbing Fes’s back.
“Good. Petra claims she can win this time. We shall see,” Fes said. Vince was astounded when Fes turned her head and grinned at the big soldier ant above her.
They’d grown considerably closer since the night of the challenge, then more after the battle.
Then Fes turned Vince loose and shoved him towards Petra.
“This one is eager for the challenge,” claimed Petra, folding herself around Vince with both arms and four of her legs. She was practically hanging on him. “This one missed her master desperately.”
“You were welcome to come with me. I did offer,” Vince said.
Petra ducked her head in next to his and stole a kiss from his lips.
“Pregnant women shouldn’t travel. They also shouldn’t be sparring,” Meliae huffed. “Which is why challenges tomorrow will not be by martial combat.”
“Mel—”
“This o—”
“No! I’ll not have it. End of discussion,” Meliae said firmly, crossing her arms across her chest.
Fes and Petra both fell silent, but nodded agreement.
Vince had to replay that exchange in his head once. Meliae was the third of three, yet Fes and Petra deferred to her. She had also said they were pregnant.
“Ah, I see. Does that mean…?” Vince asked curiously.
“Yes, Fes has a viable pregnancy. So I’ve allowed Petra’s to begin to grow. Mine as well. Daphne and Karya are holding on to theirs for now. Congratulations, you’ll be a father of three relatively soon,” Meliae said in a clinical tone.
Fes blinked at that and then turned to Karya and Daphne with a feral grin. “Tomorrow is challenge day. As claimed wives, you will fight for your position. Come, we will discuss this and how you represent our husband and your Fes.”
Petra fell in beside Fes and the two led Daphne and Karya off.
“Hm. I’ll make sure nothing funny happens,” Meliae said with a sigh. “See you later, my love. You’re mine tonight. I already paid Fes off to get bumped up in the order,” Meliae admitted. She darted in to kiss him deeply, then patted his chest as she started to pull away.
“Oh, and did you ever read this?” Meliae asked, fishing an envelope out of her tunic and holding it out to him. “It’s still sealed, so I assumed you hadn’t yet.” Then Meliae was off after the others.
Eva peered at the envelope. “What’s that, Master?”
“A letter. From a Ranger in the north. It slipped my mind.”
Vince flipped over the envelope and broke the seal, then pulled the sheet of paper free.
Dear Vince,
I hope this letter finds you well. I’m a woman of short words and shorter time, so I’ll make this brief.
I knew your parents. They were good people. A little odd, but good. I even met you once when you were nothing bit a tyke.
I hate to call them liars when they cannot defend themselves, but I must. They didn’t head east.
As you know, the Ranger guild had an outpost up in the north there once. That was actually where your parents met.
After they left, it fell to the Wastes and no one bothered to try and reclaim it.
They met with Seville, then headed north into the Wastes up there. I had been there on a business trip when they came through.
I’m not sure if this helps or not, but it might not hurt to head north and check out the old Ranger outpost up there.
Because knowing your parents, they probably went there first.
Sincerely,
Macy
“Lord?”
“Master?”
“My liege, are you well?”
“Ah, yeah. I’m fine. Just… interesting news.” Vince folded the letter carefully and slid it back into the envelope, then handed it over to Elysia. “Please put this with my important correspondence. You can read it later if you like and share with the rest.”
“Yes, my liege,” said the High Elf, stashing the letter away immediately on her person.
Wagons kept moving past them as they stood to the side. His new citizens couldn’t keep their eyes in any spot. They looked around in every direction. From person to person. Waster to Waster.
All moving about with jobs and tasks. Wearing collars but having no humans around. They were all very confused-looking.
Behind Eva and her sisters were his newest Elves. They were a common commodity in the markets. Hunted, bred, and valued for their magical abilities and intelligence.
It was fairly horrific.
Amusingly enough, with this new group, the number of Elves in his employ was in the nineties. Doubly amusing was the fact that by sheer luck they were relatively balanced in numbers as far as subspecies.
The clatter of talons on stone got his attention as a Wolfman slid to a stop in front of him.
“Lord, from the east. People approach.”
“East?” Vince asked. Shaking his head, he gestured at the messenger. “Right behind you. Lead on.”
Vince turned back to his Elves.
“Take your new family members aside and teach them the ropes,” Vince said, looking at the three sisters. “Not much left to do today until later.”
Elysia and Eva looked to Thera. She shook her head and then pointed at the Elves.
“Ask for directions to the Manor. You’ll be sorted out,” Thera explained.
All three Elves turned back to him.
A sigh slipped out as he turned to head east at a fast walk.
When he got there, the gate was open and he could see a small group of people heading his way.
They couldn’t have been more than a hundred feet out at this point.
At such a short distance, he was fairly certain they were Elves. Their hair coloring would indicate High Elves or Wood Elves.
Vince passed through the gate an
d continued right on through to the other side.
Behind him trailed a mixed unit of Frit’s. Beyond that, he could hear the heavy clatter of metal distantly.
Stopping thirty feet outside of his wall, Vince waited.
They were indeed High Elves, with a few Wood Elves mixed in for good measure.
“Summon your slave master, I would speak with this abomination’s leader,” grumped a High Elf male who epitomized the clichés. Arrogant, handsome, and graceful.
“You’re looking at him. What can I do for you?” Vince asked, his eyes sorting through the twenty-some odd guests.
“Die.”
A ball of fire skipped across the distance between them and vanished. Then a lightning bolt vanished above Vince’s head.
Two more fireballs hurtled towards him and a rather large boulder that was ripped from the ground—only for the fireballs to vanish and the boulder to be sent spinning southeast, rolling away on the grass.
“Your pet did well. I don’t think she can handle another round. Surrender and she need not suffer.”
Vince held up a hand towards the High Elves as Elysia stepped forward.
She was a bookworm until provoked. Then she made Fes look timid.
“I think you have a false impression of what’s going on here—”
“Do you not own everyone here? That’s the tale we heard.”
Behind him, he could hear Kitch getting closer. She wouldn’t tolerate this if she was here. He’d have to finish this up quick.
“I am indeed the master here. I purchased everyone here and th—”
“Then die.”
Another slew of magic disintegrated as if nothing happened.
Elysia’s eyes had started to crackle with lightning. She had a preference for electricity.
“I-I don’t understand.”
Vince glanced backwards as Kitch exited the gate. “Well, I recommend you act like a dignitary from here on out. My Troll captain doesn’t take kindly to people who are rude.”
“Rude?” said the man.
“Yes. Rude. Now. As I was saying. Elysia, would you be so kind?”
“My liege, I will gladly smite them in your name,” said the High Elf. She stepped forward and brought her hand up.
