Chapter 7
Wodred
A full war council of generals and clan leaders sits in the War Room, waiting to be briefed about this new danger.
The sight wearies me. I have had my fill of war to last several lifetimes.
I have always wanted to just grow old in peace, maybe work the lands of my clan.
No more leading troops or covering my hands in blood.
But that dream seems as far away now as it has ever been.
“Tell me what we know,” commands King Rognar at the head of the table, his queen on one side of him and Lady Melelea on her other side.
Gunag begins, standing up on the king’s other side, pointing to several markings on the large map on the table, “We received messages from several falcons that a rift tore open in the sky, demons spilling out of them. Imps mainly, but some bigger demons. They attacked Grimblton and captured some magic users before they could be driven off. There have been casualties. To make things worse, those who were killed by the demons almost immediately rose into the undead and became an additional threat. They’ve been contained at the moment, but we must assume that this attack is not an isolated incident. There will be more coming.”
“Grazrath,” Queen Adalind says. “It must be. The timing could not be more plain. This must be the beginning of his plan.”
Rognar nods. “Now that he has a source of magic to use, he must be tearing rifts in the Nether, letting out some of his minions to attack.”
“It will only get worse,” Lady Melelea says. “This is merely a taste of what he plans to do.”
“You have seen another vision, my lady?” I inquire.
The trolless shakes her head. “Not in its entirety. I could only feel his emotions, his intentions. But from my studies of magic, I can tell you that tearing open rifts in time and space isn’t easy.
He’ll be using a shocking amount of mana to do so.
Which is probably why they are small to begin with, since he only has a few sources of regenerating his magic.
That is why he is having his imps focus on the magic users.
The more he attacks, the more magic users he’ll take to drain and be able to make bigger and bigger rifts.
Eventually even big enough that other archdemons will come through. ”
“That would take the magic of at least hundreds of magic users,” Gunag scoffs. “Or a dragon.”
“Be that as it may, it will be his goal. With the archdemons at his side, nothing could stop him,” Melelea points out calmly.
“What are you saying, Mother?” Rognar asks.
“That Grazrath will not rest until he has Anar’i under his thumb and then will set his sights higher. I believe that he intends to restart the God War, the war that he and the other archdemons lost millennia ago. He will not be happy until he is king in Ethereal.”
“But Anar’i was almost decimated during the first God War,” I say carefully. “Many sentient species were lost. The world had to rebuild from the ground up, which is why there are so few records from that era.”
“Exactly,” Lady Melelea says. “Which is why Grazrath must be stopped before he can get any stronger.”
Rognar growls at this. “We already discussed this, Mother. My answer is no, as your king.”
“But is it as my king?” challenges Lady Melelea. “Because this seems like a decision made by my son, not a king with a clear view of the situation.”
“What are you talking about?” Gunag asks, voicing all our thoughts aloud. “What did you discuss?”
“Nothing,” rumbles Rognar, at the same time Lady Melelea says, “I have volunteered to find Grazrath, but have been forbidden.”
My blood runs cold at her words. I can still see the demon’s cruel claws reaching out and attacking the seer.
Her body slumping and not knowing for that split second whether she was alive or dead.
It is my first instinct to agree with the king to forbid her from trying again, but my agreement is held back in my throat.
A memory suddenly surfaces of the first time I met her, of Lady Melelea sitting silently at Guruk’s side while he mocked her gifts, the shame on her face.
I am sure that Guruk made her feel that way many times during their time together.
I know that Rognar is as far from his bastard father’s personality as he can be, but I cannot help but wonder if Lady Melelea feels the same way that she did then.
Being dismissed, her gifts not valued, not being able to contribute.
“Is there a way that you can hunt for the demon without risking exposure again?” I ask.
Lady Melelea shoots me a grateful look, making my heart thump in my chest and causing my Mating Instinct to purr.
It has only ever purred for her. “There is,” she says.
“I will use an illusory proxy, which will fool the demon if he catches me again. If he attacks, he will hit the illusion, not me. I . . .”
“No,” Rognar says again, sounding final. “There are other ways. We will exhaust them before we use your gifts.”
“That is nonsense, Rognar!” Lady Melelea bursts out. “It may be too late if we wait too long! Will you wait until an army of the Nether is on our doorstep? We must find him now, while he is still gathering his power, not when he has solidified it!”
“I will not lose you!” barks out the king.
Lady Melelea flinches at his harsh tone and Rognar instantly looks penitent, modulating his voice.
“I will not lose you,” he repeats. “Not again. Do you not understand, Mother? I thought you lost once. Thought you dead. Mourned you. I cannot stand by while you walk into danger and possibly lose you again. It cannot be borne.”
The king speaks the truth. I can still remember that cursed day eight years ago when we came back from a campaign, only to have Guruk tell us that Melelea was dead at his orders.
He seemed to revel in the obvious pain of Rognar.
I barely kept myself contained, wanting to surge forward and Challenge Guruk myself, only the love of Melelea and respect for Rognar holding me back.
It was not my revenge to get, though I assisted Rognar and felt no small satisfaction when he relieved Guruk of his head.
Still, nothing could soothe the pain of Melelea being gone.
It is a Father God’s own miracle that she survived and is back with us.
Lady Melelea’s face softens into understanding, but it is Gunag who speaks. “With all respect, My King, the Lady Melelea is right. That is the choice of a son, not a king. A king would do what he must to protect the lives of all his people. Even if there is a risk of sacrifice.”
“You go too far, Gunag, speaking to your king like that,” Queen Adalind admonishes, her delicate hand coming to rest on Rognar’s arm in support.
“Apologies, My Queen,” Gunag says, “but I have not gone far enough. I am the Axe of the King, his weapon in war and his wisdom in strategy. I cannot simply agree with him when he is being misled by emotional thinking. With Urim traveling in lands unknown, I must be Axe and Shield. Lady Melelea should be allowed to search for the demon while he is still vulnerable and isn’t hidden behind an army. It will be too late then.”
“I agree with Gunag,” I chime in, surprising the council.
I am known for being more quiet at these strategy sessions and I have been more vocal these last two days than I ever have been.
But I must, when it is Lady Melelea at stake.
“The Lady Melelea knows her gifts and powers far better than any of us. If she believes that there is a way for her to find the demon without being at risk again, I believe her. And, with all respect, My King, we are orcs, not gods. We can fight regular wars, but a conflict between us and the contents of the Nether will only end one way. We must stop this demonic invasion before it can progress.”
King Rognar frowns mightily and exchanges a look with Queen Adalind.
She squeezes his hand. Finally, he sighs and his eyes flick back toward us at the table.
“It appears I’m outvoted by my own council.
Very well, Mother. If you believe that you can track Grazrath safely, we will allow you to do so.
But, if at any point you feel that he senses you again, you’ll break the connection immediately.
You will not risk yourself by pushing when it would be prudent to retreat. ”
“Of course, my son,” Lady Melelea says. “I will prepare to leave at once.”
“Leave?” questions Rognar. “Can you not just use the connection you have with the demon and hunt him with your scrying from the palace like you did yesterday?”
Lady Melelea shakes her head. “The connection between us is closed. He is blocking my sight from seeing him, actively suppressing my gift. I need to get closer to where he possibly is, to the sites of these rifts he has opened. His residual essence will be there and I’ll be able to use that to hunt him.
It will be even better if I can find something of his. A hair or article of clothing.”
“Now you wish to leave the safety of Castle Ilustan and go to where rifts of demons are pouring forth?” Rognar asks gruffly. “You ask for too much, wanting to head into danger like that.”
“I will go with her,” I hear myself saying. The eyes at the table swivel to me, none looking more surprised than Lady Melelea herself. But undaunted, I elaborate. “I will guard her with my life, My King. I will not fail you, or her.”
Rognar considers me for a moment and I struggle to remain passive under his gaze.
I think that the king has long suspected that I harbor feelings for his mother.
When we thought that Guruk had killed her, I joined Rognar in his Challenge of his father, a shared quest to kill the monster on the throne and take the country back from those that had corrupted it.
He saw my rage and grief, and I think he knew that I mourned Lady Melelea as more than the former queen consort.
Perhaps he is suspicious that I harbor ulterior motives in offering to guard his mother, that I seek a way into her bed, but that is not true.
All I want is for Lady Melelea to be safe and return home unharmed.
If I cannot stop her on her quest to find the demon, then I can aid her so that she at least survives the attempt.
Finally, Rognar announces to the table, while keeping my gaze, “If General Wodred goes with my mother as bodyguard, I will acquiesce to the mission. Who else will go with them? Once my mother locates the demon, a party of warriors will have to hunt and put him down like the dog he is. Who will it be?”
“I will go, Your Majesty,” comes a husky feminine voice, loud and clear.
The heads at the table turn to look at a human woman in armor.
Dame Zera, the captain of the Queen’s Guard.
I have worked with her a time or two as we have merged our two countries.
She is a serious and capable warrior. She stands behind Queen Adalind’s chair and returns all the stares unflinching, though I think I detect a hint of blush working its way up her neck.
But her gaze is all steely resolve as she steps boldly forward.
“Dame Zera,” Queen Adalind begins, looking to her side where the knight is. “Are you sure?”
“I am, Your Majesty,” she says, sounding resolved. “I have trained my whole life to be able to take down threats to our countries. I will not fail you.”
“Dame Zera is meant to be protecting you, My Queen,” Gunag suddenly pipes up. “Not gallivanting around to parts unknown.”
“I take my orders from Queen Adalind, not you,” snaps the knight, with a surprising amount of vitriol. “The rest of the Gold Guard will stay with Queen Adalind. They do not need me. And you have no authority over me. I have nothing to say to you.”
Gunag growls angrily at the human knight’s words, only to cut off the sound at an impatient gesture from Rognar.
“I cannot listen to you two bicker again,” sighs the king in exasperation. “You will both go on the hunt for Grazrath.”
“Your Majesty!” protests Dame Zera, but she too is cut off by the king.
“This quest will require our best warriors,” Rognar says, “and you two number among them. This is no time for petty personal grievances or squabbles. And I suggest that you two take this time to come to an understanding. You do not need to like each other to work together.”
Dame Zera stiffens at the king’s words, then curtly nods. “It will be as you say, Your Majesty. I can work with your Axe if he can work with me.”
“Stubborn female,” mutters Gunag, so quietly that only the orcs at the table would be able to hear it.
Ah, I think I know what is going on. I have heard that Gunag has been chasing a female who will not have him.
He has even claimed that she is supposed to be his fated mate, his Ash’ka as the elves say, but she still spurns him.
Dame Zera must be that female. However, Gunag is doing himself no favors by trying to be so high-handed and stopping her from going on this quest. A strong woman like Dame Zera would suffer no one to tell her what to do.
“Three warriors are probably enough to come with me,” Lady Melelea says, cutting back into the conversation. “If our party gets any bigger we will attract attention and Grazrath may realize that we are hunting him. It is best that we keep a low profile.”
Rognar looks unhappy at his mother’s words, but he gives a nod.
“So be it.”