Queen Yavara: Chapter 33 by White Walls

I surveyed the coastline, marking highpoints on my map where we could erect towers for the mirror relay. It was how my father communicated with Queen Tiadoa and Ambassador Wentz in the Highlands; a series of mirrors aimed at each other over great distances from great heights. There used to be a relay from Ardeni to Alkandra, but it had been destroyed centuries ago. I didn’t imagine we’d ever have to rebuild it, even after Yavara had revealed her identity. Alkandra was a pipe dream, and it galled my father that Prestira Rasloraca had gotten roped into it. Her death was a tragedy, but it wasn’t unexpected.

What was unexpected was the letter we’d received from Zander’s ethereal owl two weeks ago. The Ten had been united, a Froktora had been elected, and a horde of nearly a hundred-thousand had been raised. Furthermore, the famed ranger Thomas Adarian had been mutilated into some kind of dark-elf monster and turned traitor to become the governess of Alkandra. Zander expected us to make contact with her (her for God’s sake!) and set up an embassy. And that was all he wrote. No explanation, no clarification. With no means of replying to him, we had to decide whether or not to heed the letter. Ultimately, the phrase “a horde of nearly one-hundred-thousand” got Father’s attention. We had used Yavara as a tool, thinking her easily disposable. I was to ensure that the sentiment didn’t become mutual.

We rounded the bend, and there, at the mouth of the Alkandran Bay, was the city of beasts. I was impressed. Not by the city itself, for the castle and towers were rather short by my standards, and the single urban strip that made up its downtown would count for any one of a thousand streets in Ardeni. No, it was the speed of construction that had impressed me. I’d voyaged this bend not three months ago, and there had been nothing at the mouth of the bay but ruins. If my understanding of the timeline was correct, the castle had been built within a month, and everything thereafter had been built within a fortnight. It was industry on a mass scale, a full nation mobilized for a singular purpose. And it was a nation now, there was no doubt about it. After a thousand years of back and forth between the Highlands and the Lowlands, the Midlands had finally been claimed, and it was the Midlanders themselves who had claimed it.

The ruby gem on my mirror lit up, indicating that I had a call. I directed the navigator to sail us back to sea. Nautical mirror communication was dependent on how many ships were between the caller and the receiver. Every ship had a mirror on its masthead, and so a relay could be formed from ship to ship. In high-traffic areas like along the Lowland coast, all one had to do was sail out into the open water, and without the coastline obstructing the view, a chain would be formed to the port of Ardeni Dreus. I’d rounded the Alkandran Horn ten days ago, and so communication had been impossible with a mountain range between Ardeni and me. If our flotilla hadn’t been slowed by the unwieldy trade barges, the whole process would’ve taken a quarter of the time, but alas, money took priority over politics. The blue gem on my mirror illuminated, and I palmed the glass.

A spindly man came into focus, a bored expression on his face as he methodically tapped the mirror.

“Brannon, to what do I owe the pleasure?” I asked.

The man practically leapt out of his chair when he heard my voice. He collected himself, and dawned his usually scowl. “Prince Mathew, we have been trying to contact you for ten days.”

“And I rounded the Alkandran Horn exactly ten days ago. Did Father have you tapping that glass day and night?”

“We’ve been working in shifts.” He sneered, then left without a word.

A minute later, King Albert Dreus’s visage came into focus.

“Father,” I said, “I am about to make contact. Why did you call?”

“There’s been a development.” He said, his face grave, “Ambassador Wentz is dead.”

I paused. “Should I… turn the ship around then?”

“It wasn’t one of Zander’s agents who did it. Lord Ternias got sloppy and exposed Wentz, and Leveria disposed of him. There’s no action we can take here; we got caught with our hand in the cookie jar.”

“And Ambassador Straltaira? Is she dead?”

“No.”

“So that proves that she’s Leveria’s agent.”

“That’s not what Lord Ternias thinks. He believes she works in the best interest of Queen Yavara.”

“Straltaira was captured and tortured! How could she not be Leveria’s agent?”

Father stroked his beard. “I’ve never seen Elena Straltaira, nor any of these so-called ‘hybrids,’ but from what I’ve heard, they’re not to be trifled with. If Elena is operating with the autonomy Ternias proclaims, then that only proves it. You will need to be very careful with them, Mathew.”

“I will be.”

“I received a call from the dwarven trade emissary. News of Yavara’s military reached his ears yesterday, and it spooked him. He won’t be trading with us through the Midlands until he has a diplomat in Alkandra.”

“Well, maybe we’ll get lucky and the two armies will just massacre each other.”

“Doubtful. We’re going to have to keep hedging our bets, which means you’ll have to make concessions. Good relations with Alkandra are immediately paramount. If Yavara’s army prevails, the most powerful nation on Tenvalia will be right next door.”

“And in case Yavara’s army falls, we keep our support behind Ternias.”

“Ternias is becoming unreliable.”

“Then who do we hedge our bets with in Bentius?”

Father stroked his beard again. “Do you know what the current line of succession is for the Highland nobility? Tiadoa, Ternias, Straltaira.”

“You can’t possibly mean… they would never… what the hell would she even be? Queen? King? Both?!”

“Ternias tells me she’s the darling of the court. A simple perception spell for public appearances would make her palatable to the masses. If Yavara loses this battle, then the Highlands will take control of the Midlands, and everything we’ve worked for will be for naught. In that scenario, we will throw our support and resources behind Elena, because she would never occupy the Midlands. It would sow discord in the Noble Court, and make them weak when they are strongest.”

I ran my hand through my hair. “Does Yavara even know that Elena is alive?”

“Wentz told me Elena claimed to be in contact with her sovereign, but she was only parroting Leveria’s lie to the court when she said that. Elena was never an ambassador; she was a prisoner. As far as we can tell, Yavara thinks Elena is dead. We should keep it that way for now.”

“Why? Bringing her this information would put us well in her favor.”

“If Yavara wins this battle, then we will need to throw our resources behind whoever makes the Highlands the strongest. With their faith shaken in Leveria, then Ternias would be our best choice. His ambitions would be unrealized, and he would be forced to kowtow to us to pressure Yavara from invading. But in this scenario, the cowards in the Noble Court will begin whispering of vassalage to avoid an invasion. That will make Elena Straltaira a very attractive candidate, and we cannot allow the Highlands to fall into Yavara’s lap. If Yavara wins this battle, we will send our assassins to Bentius.”

FALTIA

“Attention!” Came the clipped command of Colonel Dom Alkandra.

The unruly officer’s quarters abruptly formed into smart lines that ran the length of the hall. I walked between them, my head held high, my boots clicking against the wood planks of the barrack floor. Eva herself had designed my uniform, with a leather crisscrossing top that held my full breasts high and jiggling on my chest, a leather skirt that hugged my ass like it was painted on, and thigh-high boots gave me the air of authority I required. With my body now covered it tattoos all the way to my chin, I looked like something out of a fascist porno mag. It was perfect.

“It has come to my attention that there has been gambling going on within the barracks.” I said sternly, “I don’t care what’s legal in town, when you’re on duty, my word is law! As officers of the watch, it your responsibility to ensure that the troops beneath your command follow my law. Captain?!” I turned on my heel, and stopped before Captain Getrok Kraklari. He stood almost two feet taller and was at least three times as heavy, but his lip quivered, and he didn’t dare meet my eye.

“Ma’am, yes ma’am!” He sputtered through his tusks.

“Do you know anything about the poker games being played during night watch hours?” I asked, and placed my hand against his crotch.

“N-n-no ma’am!” He stammered. Oh, he was stirring beneath my palm.

I grinned up at him. “Are you sure, Captain?”

“Y-y-yes ma’am!”

I reached into his trousers, and pulled out his foot-long meat. He hadn’t showered yet. Four hours of physical training after a night of sleeping in the hot officer’s quarters had marinated his loins, and the miasma made my mouth water. My delicate fingers traced along his veins, brushing back and forth until he was rising unbidden, the shaft throbbing, the head pulsing and leaking. “Are you one-hundred-percent certain, Captain?” I whispered.

His eyes were becoming bloodshot, his lips were trembling. With a sputtering gasp, he finally confessed, “It was Major Roy Alkandra! He ran it!”

I wheeled on the guilty Major. “Is this true, Major?!”

“Ma’am, yes ma’am!” He yelled back, his voice pitched high in fear. Fear was not something I ever wanted to garner as a captain in the rangers, but it was an incredibly effective tool with orcs. Fear and desire were my training tools, and I’d used them to forge a small professional army in ten days. It was grueling, debasing work, and I’d never had more fun in my entire life.

“Major, you are to report for outreach duty immediately.” I said, and the orc saluted smartly, and walked like a condemned man out of the quarters.