Chapter 29
Lix’tuk
I can’t do the right thing even when I want to.
Or maybe I’m not capable of deciding what’s right anymore.
Maybe I never was. I’m reflecting a lot more on my life recently.
The mistakes I’ve made. They all seemed right at the time, but I was blinded by grief and rage.
Maybe the reason I think Uzrirgard no longer needs a king, is because deep down, I’m trying to protect them from more of my mistakes.
Two days ago, Clover gave a speech that literally changed the world. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but once she started speaking from the heart, I knew they would listen to her. I just didn’t expect things to escalate so quickly. None of us did.
In my war room, I’m listening to all the updates as they come in. My war council is here with me, but I don’t care about them. The only thing I care about is the woman beside me. The woman who refuses to let me push her away, even when it’s in her best interest.
“Your Majesty, the humans are protesting in the streets, but they’re no longer calling for orc blood,” Lord Frax’mo says.
“Their leaders are hiding from angry mobs. Half their soldiers don’t know what side they’re supposed to be on.
Now is the time to strike. We can put an end to this once and for all. ”
“I agree with Lord Frax’mo,” Lord Bruz says. “We were hoping the human girl’s speech-”
“Her name is Clover,” I snap.
“Sorry, Your Majesty. We were hoping that Clover’s speech would create doubt and uncertainty. It’s done that,” Lord Bruz says. “Let’s finish this.”
“I gave my speech to prevent a war, not weaken them enough for orcs to… finish them off,” Clover says, shaking her head.
“Is it really necessary for her to be here, Your Majesty?” Lady Sharog sighs with so much condescension, it’s palpable. “She’s already done her part. This is a decision for orcs.”
“I think she’s earned her spot at this table,” I raise my voice, glaring at Lady Sharog. “And I won’t hear otherwise.”
My war council may not like it, but Clover is as invested in this as they are. Plus, if I’ve found a way to look past my hatred of humans, they can too. They don’t bear scars from fighting them. Their hatred is nothing but prejudice and routine.
“We’ve got another report coming in,” Lord Frax’mo interrupts. “Live broadcast outside the Presidential Palace in Concord City.”
“Put it up,” I order, turning my attention to the screen on the wall beside us.
Lord Frax’mo taps into the feed and it begins playing. The camera is shaking and the cameraman is breathing hard. There’s a woman running in front of him with a microphone in her hand. She finally stops, and the camera pans to reveal a large mob protesting outside President Highton’s residence.
“No more sons! No more daughters! No more Clovers!” the crowd chants, almost in unison.
The woman turns to the camera. Her hair is disheveled, her clothes are wrinkled, and she looks like she hasn’t slept in a couple of days.
“Lydia Smith, reporting live from the Presidential Palace in Concord City,” she begins. “We’ve received word that President Highton is inside with what is left of his security detail.”
The camera pans to show more of the crowd. It stretches on for blocks, but most of them are gathered outside the palace gates.
“Oh my god!” Clover shrieks, pointing at the screen.
“What is it!?” I turn to her, tensing up.
“That’s my mom… my dad…” she exclaims, tearing up.
I look at the two people she’s pointing at. She’s talked about her parents, but this is the first time I’ve ever seen them. They look enraged, especially her father. He looks like he’s ready to tear down the gates with his bare hands.
“Wait,” the reporter says, holding her hand to her ear. “I’m getting word right now that the military is on the way. President Highton has given orders for them to disperse the crowd… by any means necessary.”
“He’s sending the military? Why?” Clover looks alarmed. “Why not just send the peacekeepers? Isn’t that what they’re for?”
“Peacekeepers tried to stop the first waves of rioting, but there weren’t enough of them,” Lord Frax’mo interjects. “Probably because at least half of them took off their uniforms and joined the angry mob.”
“We’ve had reports of similar incidents within the military, especially with the new enlistments,” Lady Ushug adds. “But they should still have enough soldiers to deal with this crowd.”
We hear the choppers before we see them.
Hundreds of them darken the sky as they move toward the Presidential Palace.
The crowd notices, and some of them begin fleeing, but most remain where they are, still chanting for the woman beside me.
Clover’s parents don’t move at all, staring up at the approaching helicopters with defiance etched on their faces, which makes my stomach tighten with concern.
“They’ll be slaughtered. Most of them don’t even have weapons. Fucking Highton.” I’m so angry I don’t realize how my words would impact Clover.
“Clover’s speech started a revolution,” Lady Sharog says with a shrug. “It won’t end here.”
“Is there anything we can do? Any way we can help them?” Clover whimpers.
“As long as they’re fighting each other, it isn’t our concern,” Lord Frax’mo harrumphs. “Right, Your Majesty? You don’t want to finish this, even when we have the best opportunity we’ve had since The Great War, right?”
“That’s where the hatred should have ended,” I try to inject my voice with my usual authority, but I feel the weight of guilt on my shoulders.
“I should have tried to heal the fracture between humans and orcs, not encouraged generations of hatred. If I’d done that, things would be better on their side of the world as well as ours. ”
“They would have found a way to blame us for all their problems, regardless,” Lord Frax’mo insists.
“I don’t think you understand how things really are over there,” Clover says.
“I didn’t grow up hating orcs. I grew up fearing them.
But out of all the options, we still believed being sold to an orc was better than being sold to a wealthy human.
We understood that was wrong, we just didn’t have any way to do anything about it. ”
Before anyone can respond, there’s another update from the reporter.
“The military has arrived and they’re landing on and around the palace,” the reporter states. “But I’ve just gotten word that there are uprisings at several of Angelina Markston’s factories. We’re going to try and get live footage.”
The camera cuts to what appears to be drone footage.
There are several factories in flames, and workers spilling out into the streets.
They’re armed with pipes, wrenches, and poles.
These people look like they’ve been through hell.
A few are wearing dirty undergarments, but most are naked.
Most of their bodies bear the marks of the cruelty they’ve endured.
“Clearly the humans are capable,” Lord Frax’mo observes dryly.
I look at Clover and see that she’s got tears tracking down her beautiful face.
She’s gripping the arms of the chair so tight her knuckles are white.
I know what has to be done. This won’t be popular with any of the Lords and Ladies, especially the ones on my war council.
I just can’t sit idly by. I’ve done that for far too long.
“Send our warships,” I say, folding my arms across my chest.
“About fucking time,” Lord Frax’mo snaps disrespectfully. This one is on thin ice. “I’ll lead the attack personally, Your Majesty.”
“No, you will not. They will be under the command of their king,” my deep, gravelly voice fills the room.
I stand up, feeling an old spark ignite and my strength rise.
“We’re not attacking innocent civilians.
We’re going to deal with the military and provide the people with the support they need.
Weapons, medical supplies, whatever it takes.
Clover started a revolution. We’re going to make sure it succeeds. ”
I can read the room. This isn’t what they want.
They want blood and glory. Stories they can tell their grandchildren around a campfire one day, just like all of the old orcs did after The Great War.
We aren’t those orcs anymore. It’s past time I accepted that.
If I had let go of my grudges, my kingdom wouldn’t still hold onto them. This is more my fault than anyone’s.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Lord Frax’mo says with gritted teeth, a mixture of disappointment and anger in his voice. “I’ll send word to the Lords and Ladies and make sure the Mobile Command Center is ready when you arrive.”
I gesture for Clover to follow me. She’s still staring at the screen, probably hoping to see her parents again.
Right now, the only thing being shown is the military amassing troops around the Presidential Palace.
They’ll attack before we can get there. Hopefully, Clover’s parents will be safe until then.
Clover finally gets up and follows me. I leave the war room and walk down to my armory. It’s been years since I’ve even seen the inside of it, but if I’m going to the other side of the world, I need to be ready to lead my orcs.
“I know you’re worried about your parents,” I say as we walk inside. “I’m going to do everything I can to help them.”
The armory holds my weapons and heavy armor. I’ve never worn my heavy armor into battle, because we didn’t have this kind of gear back during The Great War.
“They’re not soldiers,” she cries, wiping her eyes. “They’re simple people, poor cactus farmers… they don’t know how to fight.”
“Hopefully, they’re smart enough to run when they’re outmatched,” I reply removing the armor I wear most days. My finger traces the coffee spot and I smile faintly.
I’m not flying toward Concord City for the humans. Not entirely. I’m flying toward the two people Clover pointed at on the screen, because if they die while she watches, some part of her will go with them. I won’t let President Highton take anything else from her.