Orc Lord

“Take your paws away, pig!”

Fiara flinched back from an angry, hissing snake-woman, who nearly raked her face with her claws. She swallowed her frustration and anxiety and patiently tried to calm the woman down. “I can’t examine your nest without getting close, but I’ll be very gentle, I promise.”

The female naga flared her hood and rattled the end of her long tail. Her mate slithered forward and embraced her, and she folded her arms around herself tightly.

“I am here Sesaena,” the male hissed. “If she harms even one, her veins will run black with my venom.”

“Shuja… I am broody, forgive me. I know I must let the wise one work, but it is hard.”

Shuja touched his snout to Sesaena’s affectionately and then fixed a sharp eye on Fiara. She tried not to let the tension get to her.

Nesting nagas were extremely sensitive. If she didn’t have multiple factors working in her favor, she didn’t think they would have ever accepted her help. Fortunately, it was no secret that the Orcs were at war with the nagas’ enemies: the harpies. There was also a considerable amount of stereotyping around blue monsters being wiser than their peers, so her words were being received with trust.

Very slowly, so that the naga couple could watch her every move, Fiara lowered her hand into the pool of cold, dark water that served as the nagas’ nest. Her fingers wrapped gingerly around one of the oblong, soft-bodied eggs clustered at the bottom, mentally measuring the amount and quality of mana inside the egg. The egg was developed enough already that it had a noticeable affinity for the earth and water magic typical of nagas.

Fiara noted her findings on a tablet and repeated the process for every other egg in the nest. One of them, which seemed no different from the outside, happened to have an affinity for wind and lightning magic instead.

Fiara gently cradled that egg in both hands and narrowed her eyes.

There’s no way anyone would see this as a bird’s egg, she thought. Looks like my hypothesis was correct: the nagas can’t tell the harpy eggs apart because they’re camouflaging themselves.

She prayed to the spirits and learned a spell for dispersing illusions, giving up a simple spell she had already memorized to make room for it. Suddenly, the soft and oblong egg she was holding was firm and round, covered in brown speckles.

She held up the harpy egg for the naga couple to see: “Look.”

“No!”

“How did that get there?!”

Why was there a harpy egg in a naga nest? Well because there were no male harpies. The bird monsters weren’t capable of virgin births and had no interest in kidnapping males of other species. Instead, they parasitized naga nests. Nagas practiced external fertilization, so the harpies would sneak their unfertilized eggs into new nests and just trust a male naga to take care of the rest. Since harpies were one of the few species to violate the law of halves, a harpy egg always produced a pure harpy, no matter what the father was.

The nagas had known for ages that harpies were stealing their nests this way; they would find pieces of eggshell left behind by harpies that had hatched, eaten some of the remaining naga eggs, and escaped. But they had never been able to tell the harpy eggs apart from their own to prevent that tragedy.

Sesaena covered her mouth like she felt sick, and Shuja hissed furiously. Both of their tails rattled nonstop. Ironically, they reacted to the harpy egg like any other egg-laying species would react to a snake in their nest.

“I will take this egg away,” Fiara said. “And I will make a device to help you find them on your own. So will you help me meet other nesting couples?”

Sesaena dropped her hand and said gravely, “You’ve saved our children, wise one. We will help you with anything.”

***

Back at Andorin’s base camp, the lookout keeping watch toward the south glimpsed movement on the horizon. He stuffed the rest of his morning rations into his mouth and chugged some water from his canteen, expecting to get busy guiding reinforcements soon or mounting a defense against Claymore forces that snuck around the swamp during the night. He had heard about a terrible incident last night that wiped out most of their boats, so it wouldn’t be strange for their enemies to keep pushing their advantage.

But as he squinted at the flag, he noticed it was green—a color that neither army used. The flag rose higher, and he saw an insignia he wasn’t familiar with: three yellow circles arranged in a triangle.

Before the soldier could piece together for himself who that flag belonged to, the owner crested the horizon as well.

The soldier dropped his canteen. Wh-why are they coming here?!

The Andorin soldiers knew their nation was cooperating with monsters for this battle—Claymore was the one who started it by dragging harpies into the fight. Two good men had died to those winged hags yesterday, so they didn’t feel bad at all for pitting monster against monster, but…

Seeing for himself the Queen Orc who ought to be fighting at the south side of the swamp, the watchman fretted over how loyal their allies really were.

As expected of monster royalty, the Orc Queen was huge. At her side, however, was merely one additional monster who didn’t look any bigger or scarier than another human, so that helped the young soldier quiet the fear that the Orcs were turning on them. He gritted his teeth and held his position, trying not to look terrified as he craned his neck back to meet the three eyes of the Orc Queen from almost twice his height.

“I’m here to give a status report to your General,” the monstress declared.

“Y-yes ma’am—I mean your majesty! Please wait one moment!”

The lookout blew a rhythm out on the horn he kept on his belt—not as loud as the harpy warning horn and with a higher pitch too—and another soldier came to take on the burden of guiding their allies to the General’s tent. The southern watchman watched them go and breathed a sigh of relief that his duty kept him at his post.

***

“Sir!” A soldier called from outside the General’s tent in a slightly shaky voice. “Orc Queen Vyra is here to deliver a status report!”

The General looked up from his documents and shared a glance with Prince Verde.

I wasn’t expecting reports from them, the general mused, stroking his chin and short white beard. “Enter,” he called.

Enter, he says, Vyra smiled wryly and bent down to fit herself through the tent opening, unable to hold her head high even inside. She watched the General note her green dress, golden armor, and crown with his eyes, as if confirming for himself that she was monster royalty.

The General saluted. “I am General Hoffman, in charge of the Andorin army forces.”

“And I am Vyra, Queen of the Orcs. It’s good to meet you face to face, General.” She smiled, “Hello again, Prince Verde.”

“Greetings, your highness,” the second prince said stiffly.

“Do excuse me, but your tent is a bit small. Do you mind if I sit while we speak?”

It’s not the tent that’s small, the humans thought to themselves.

“I don’t mind, though the rug isn’t exactly clean,” the General said. It was better than the bare earth underneath, but still covered in muddy boot prints. “I can have the men fetch something to sit on.”

Vyra waved her hand dismissively. “I am an earth mage; a little dirt won’t hurt me.”

So she sat cross-legged on the floor at the opposite side of the war table and was still about eye-level with the humans.

“As of this morning, there are no casualties among my people and two confirmed harpy deaths. Supplies are holding, and our pace is sustainable. Since the harpies have greater mobility, we’ve maintained a defensive position and pushed back each wave they’ve sent.”

“I see,” General Hoffman nodded. “Good work. Harpies took the lives of two of our men the other day, so we’d appreciate it if you could whittle them down some more.”

Did they? Vyra smiled internally. How rebellious… But not yet rebellious enough.

“My condolences.”

She waited a moment, but the General didn’t seem keen to report more on how things on his side was faring. Almost like he really does think we’re subordinate to him, she thought.

“Speaking of losses, General, I heard you faced quite a serious one yesterday evening.”

For his part, the General didn’t so much as frown. “Did you? It’s true there was an incident, but nothing we can’t manage.”

Vyra stared at the General, who stood his ground looking every bit dignified and in control. If she didn’t know for a fact that he was on the back foot, she probably would have believed him.

“Right, well, I’m sure you don’t need my help,” she shrugged, “but all the same, I’m offering it.”

She raised her hand and the dust and dirt collected on the floor lifted into the air and piled on the table, shaping and solidifying itself into a completed map of the swamp. She molded a few extra pieces while she was at it and placed them crisply on the completed map.

“These are the approximate locations where your ships went up in flames. Considering how close the opposite shore is, the enemy camp is likely to be somewhere in this region.” She simply used a nail to scratch a circle in the hardened soil.

While the Prince and the General compared her map with theirs and likely were weighing how much faith to put in her information, Vyra tapped the table to pull their attention back to her.

“So how about a little bet between us? Test my information, and when it proves accurate, do something with it. If you succeed at damaging the enemy, I’ll continue supplying intelligence for you while the war is on—no strings attached. If the enemy turns the tables on you, then I get a turn at commanding your troops.” She shrugged, “from the shadows, of course. Deal?”

“Let you command my troops?” the General spat. “Are you mad?”

“What are you after?” Verde asked, his voice dripping with suspicion.

“You’d be mad to refuse my offer,” Vyra smiled. “All I want is to face Claymore in a war of wits, and in exchange, your side will win it.”

She stood up, careful not to snag her crown on the tent top. “Think it over. If I’m right about that man, you’ll want my help sooner than later.”