The Master of Her Fate
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Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
13
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13,805
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Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Fantasy & Science Fiction › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
13
Views:
13,805
Reviews:
35
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
The Departure
The Master of Her Fate
Chapter 12
The Departure
Garshan stood with his arms crossed behind his back and stared proudly at the assembled men and women before him. They didn't look like much. Just a motely collection of merchants and the laborers who served them. That was the reason he was proud. None would know, to look at them, that these were the same barbarians who had swept down from the north in a screaming horde and conquered Wayguard but two months ago. That was how well they had followed his orders, and how well his two spymasters had trained them.
The edges of Garshan's green eyes crinkled slightly as he smiled, looking at Lianna and Sir Ronald. They both were worlds away from the people they had been when he had given them his offer two months ago. Lianna's face was happier than, he sure, it had been in a long time. She met his eyes and blushed a lovely shade of red, looking down. Lovely was the only way he could describe her right now. In her noblewoman's dress, with her hair wrenched into gods only knew what shapes, she had been elegant, but now, in a simple leather barbarian dress with a few bead ornaments, and her red-gold hair twisted into a plait down her back, she was breathtaking. Certainly the man who stood protectively at her side seemed to think so. Garshan's smile widened as he looked at the two of them. The big man beside her was a young barbarian named Ragnar who reminded Garshan very much of himself. They were almost exactly the same height, and the only reason that Garshan's physique was bigger and stronger was because the orc blood that flowed in his veins gave him great than human potential for those two traits. Just the sort of man that Lianna was newly aware that she liked, and he treated her like a queen. Garshan had made sure of that last one, fully prepared to execute Ragnar if he had hurt her, but the big man always showed her the utmost love and courtesy. They were a good match, and he was happy for her.
He was even happier for Sir Ronald, standing tall and strong a few paces away. Looking at the man, Garshan truly could not believe this was the thin, shaky wretch that had stared at him so indignantly nine weeks ago. Ronald's shoulders were thrown back, his face was no longer drawn and haggard, and he stood straight without pain. The man looked thirty years younger. Truly the barbarian druids could accomplish miracles. Garshan turned his eye back to the assembled crowd. They weren't the only ones. It was nothing short of a miracle that Ronald and Lianna had been able to weld these savages into an effective infiltration force. They were all waiting for their Warlord to speak, and so he did.
"In my time as a wanderer," he said, looking back and forth at all the pairs of eyes fixed on him, "I saw more amazing things than I can count, in more countries than I could name. But what I see now ranks highly among them." He began to pace back and forth in front of them. "All of you have taken the very high expectations I placed on you and exceeded them to a degree that shocks me. To look at you I, who have trod the markets of every civilized nation in the world, would be hard pressed to tell you apart from a normal Southern merchant. Daman will stand no chance." He smiled fiercely, and they all smiled back. "My gratitude also goes out to those of Wayguard who have embraced my cause and stand among you. All of you will be richly rewarded when our task is finished." The few southerners who stood among the barbarians, mostly poised as merchants because their softer hands and smaller size made them fit that role, smiled proudly and stood tall. "The time has come for your training to be used. Daman lies to the south, a huge fruit nearly ripe for me to pluck. All that it requires is your presence for it to ripen to perfection. Go now, and weaken our enemies. When the city is ready, send word to me, and together we will conquer." He held a clenched fist into the air in a salute, and a thousand fists were raised in return as a thousand throats shouted a battle cry. Then he turned and walked away, and they all began to trickle out of the city.
Garshan's plan was very specific for these people. They were to leave in small groups and spread out as far as they could across the empty plains that took up the first hundred miles between Wayguard and Daman. There, they would form into their assigned roles and slowly enter Daman one a time, over the course of a few weeks, just another few hundred traders come to try their luck in the Jewel of the Plains. Meanwhile, Wayguard was to be shut off from the outside world and the story spread that a terrible plague had come to the city, spreading madness and death. Garshan found that to be rich joke, for his philosphy of rank through deeds alone would seem madness to many in the South, and if they did not subscribe to it, death was all that awaited them. A few of the druids had trained with the spymasters to appear as clerics, and they would guard the closed city gates, warning travelers away. The rest of the barbarian army would split up and fade into the massive mountains on either side, to wait in hiding for their Warlord's command.
That last part was very much looked forward to by all in Garshan's household. In the last two months, he had not had as much time as he wished to spend with his wives, for the training and the planning took up his entire day. They had all accepted it stoically, even Anna, who wanted to spend time with him the most, and he had promised them some peace when the army broke up. He would take them into the mountains, just the four of them, and they would spend a few weeks or months being simply a man and his wives, instead of a King and his harem. He needed no guards. No one knew the mountains as well as Garshan did, for he had spent the years between the ages of nine and sixteen living alone among them, fending for himself with nothing but an old rusty sword to fend off the beasts and hunt. No one could kill him when he was in those high forests. There was a spring in the Warlord's step as he returned to his tent. This break would be much welcomed.
***
In the tent, Anna and the other two wives were packing hastily, their faces shining with anticipation. Soon they would have their husband back, and Anna especially couldn't wait. Tharona and Nakree had been his wives ever since he'd become king, all through his campaign to unite the north and his attack on Wayguard. They knew how to live without him for days if they had to. Anna didn't, and she'd missed him terribly. When the door opened and he stood there in his traveling clothes, his axe strapped to his back, she gave a squeak of excitement and threw herself at him for a long, thorough kiss, with a cry of, "Master!"
He held her close and let the kiss linger for a nice long time, and then continued to hold her as he smiled at Tharona. "Is everything ready?" he asked.
"Yes, husband," she said, looking just as eager in her more-relaxed way as Nakree and Anna. "All we were waiting for was you." He laughed.
"Well here I am, so let's get going. It's going to be very nice to be just Garshan again for a while." Anna gasped softly, and he turned a warm, affectionate smile her way. "Yes, Anna, that's my name. For the next few weeks, I'll be nobody's king. Just your husband. You'll only have to call me 'Master' if you want to." Anna smiled, touched, and buried her face in his shoulder to hide her few happy tears. Garshan carried her out of the tent and to his massive black horse as she considered the name. It was a good name for him. Harsh, guttural, but (to her admittedly-biased ear, at least,) possessing a certain beauty. Just like the man who owned it.
Anna's musings were cut short as she was swung up into the saddle in front of him. As a proper lady, she'd never ridden a horse any way but sidesaddle before, and she blushed at how her dress rode up her spread legs. His appreciative green gaze took away any embarrassment, however, and replaced it with the first stirrings of arousal, especially when she realized that her position (in front of him in the saddle, her back against his stomach) put her bottom right against the crotch of his leathers. She grinned and rubbed back against him a bit, then leaned into his chest with a contented sigh. Tharona and Nakree were already mounted on smaller but equally sturdy horses, docile mares to Garshan's huge, fiery-tempered charger. Anna had been much afraid of this horse, who's name was Roksor, orcish for protector, but her husband's gentle hand had complete control of the beast, and she felt safe as she always did in his arms. Garshan gathered up the reins of the six packhorses that were carrying the smaller version of the command tent that they would live in, their food, and all their clothes, and rode out of the city, followed by Tharona and Nakree. As soon as they were in the mountains, breathing the cool air, he sighed happily. Anna heard and twisted around to smile up at him.
"Are you happy to be leaving it behind?" she asked softly, laying her hand at his where it rested against her stomach.
"Yes," he said, smiling down at her. "I enjoy power as much as the next man, but the responsibilites get old sometimes. I'm not complaining, however." He gave her hand a squeeze. "If I wasn't a king, I'd never have found you." Anna blushed deeply and beamed up at him, then laid her head against his chest and closed her eyes. No matter where they were going, it would be wonderful with him there.
A/N: Hey all! Sorry it took so long to update, life has been REALLY crazy lately. Also I apologize for the lack of sex in this chapter. Rest assured, their little honeymoon in the mountains will have more than enough to make up for it. Enjoy!
Chapter 12
The Departure
Garshan stood with his arms crossed behind his back and stared proudly at the assembled men and women before him. They didn't look like much. Just a motely collection of merchants and the laborers who served them. That was the reason he was proud. None would know, to look at them, that these were the same barbarians who had swept down from the north in a screaming horde and conquered Wayguard but two months ago. That was how well they had followed his orders, and how well his two spymasters had trained them.
The edges of Garshan's green eyes crinkled slightly as he smiled, looking at Lianna and Sir Ronald. They both were worlds away from the people they had been when he had given them his offer two months ago. Lianna's face was happier than, he sure, it had been in a long time. She met his eyes and blushed a lovely shade of red, looking down. Lovely was the only way he could describe her right now. In her noblewoman's dress, with her hair wrenched into gods only knew what shapes, she had been elegant, but now, in a simple leather barbarian dress with a few bead ornaments, and her red-gold hair twisted into a plait down her back, she was breathtaking. Certainly the man who stood protectively at her side seemed to think so. Garshan's smile widened as he looked at the two of them. The big man beside her was a young barbarian named Ragnar who reminded Garshan very much of himself. They were almost exactly the same height, and the only reason that Garshan's physique was bigger and stronger was because the orc blood that flowed in his veins gave him great than human potential for those two traits. Just the sort of man that Lianna was newly aware that she liked, and he treated her like a queen. Garshan had made sure of that last one, fully prepared to execute Ragnar if he had hurt her, but the big man always showed her the utmost love and courtesy. They were a good match, and he was happy for her.
He was even happier for Sir Ronald, standing tall and strong a few paces away. Looking at the man, Garshan truly could not believe this was the thin, shaky wretch that had stared at him so indignantly nine weeks ago. Ronald's shoulders were thrown back, his face was no longer drawn and haggard, and he stood straight without pain. The man looked thirty years younger. Truly the barbarian druids could accomplish miracles. Garshan turned his eye back to the assembled crowd. They weren't the only ones. It was nothing short of a miracle that Ronald and Lianna had been able to weld these savages into an effective infiltration force. They were all waiting for their Warlord to speak, and so he did.
"In my time as a wanderer," he said, looking back and forth at all the pairs of eyes fixed on him, "I saw more amazing things than I can count, in more countries than I could name. But what I see now ranks highly among them." He began to pace back and forth in front of them. "All of you have taken the very high expectations I placed on you and exceeded them to a degree that shocks me. To look at you I, who have trod the markets of every civilized nation in the world, would be hard pressed to tell you apart from a normal Southern merchant. Daman will stand no chance." He smiled fiercely, and they all smiled back. "My gratitude also goes out to those of Wayguard who have embraced my cause and stand among you. All of you will be richly rewarded when our task is finished." The few southerners who stood among the barbarians, mostly poised as merchants because their softer hands and smaller size made them fit that role, smiled proudly and stood tall. "The time has come for your training to be used. Daman lies to the south, a huge fruit nearly ripe for me to pluck. All that it requires is your presence for it to ripen to perfection. Go now, and weaken our enemies. When the city is ready, send word to me, and together we will conquer." He held a clenched fist into the air in a salute, and a thousand fists were raised in return as a thousand throats shouted a battle cry. Then he turned and walked away, and they all began to trickle out of the city.
Garshan's plan was very specific for these people. They were to leave in small groups and spread out as far as they could across the empty plains that took up the first hundred miles between Wayguard and Daman. There, they would form into their assigned roles and slowly enter Daman one a time, over the course of a few weeks, just another few hundred traders come to try their luck in the Jewel of the Plains. Meanwhile, Wayguard was to be shut off from the outside world and the story spread that a terrible plague had come to the city, spreading madness and death. Garshan found that to be rich joke, for his philosphy of rank through deeds alone would seem madness to many in the South, and if they did not subscribe to it, death was all that awaited them. A few of the druids had trained with the spymasters to appear as clerics, and they would guard the closed city gates, warning travelers away. The rest of the barbarian army would split up and fade into the massive mountains on either side, to wait in hiding for their Warlord's command.
That last part was very much looked forward to by all in Garshan's household. In the last two months, he had not had as much time as he wished to spend with his wives, for the training and the planning took up his entire day. They had all accepted it stoically, even Anna, who wanted to spend time with him the most, and he had promised them some peace when the army broke up. He would take them into the mountains, just the four of them, and they would spend a few weeks or months being simply a man and his wives, instead of a King and his harem. He needed no guards. No one knew the mountains as well as Garshan did, for he had spent the years between the ages of nine and sixteen living alone among them, fending for himself with nothing but an old rusty sword to fend off the beasts and hunt. No one could kill him when he was in those high forests. There was a spring in the Warlord's step as he returned to his tent. This break would be much welcomed.
***
In the tent, Anna and the other two wives were packing hastily, their faces shining with anticipation. Soon they would have their husband back, and Anna especially couldn't wait. Tharona and Nakree had been his wives ever since he'd become king, all through his campaign to unite the north and his attack on Wayguard. They knew how to live without him for days if they had to. Anna didn't, and she'd missed him terribly. When the door opened and he stood there in his traveling clothes, his axe strapped to his back, she gave a squeak of excitement and threw herself at him for a long, thorough kiss, with a cry of, "Master!"
He held her close and let the kiss linger for a nice long time, and then continued to hold her as he smiled at Tharona. "Is everything ready?" he asked.
"Yes, husband," she said, looking just as eager in her more-relaxed way as Nakree and Anna. "All we were waiting for was you." He laughed.
"Well here I am, so let's get going. It's going to be very nice to be just Garshan again for a while." Anna gasped softly, and he turned a warm, affectionate smile her way. "Yes, Anna, that's my name. For the next few weeks, I'll be nobody's king. Just your husband. You'll only have to call me 'Master' if you want to." Anna smiled, touched, and buried her face in his shoulder to hide her few happy tears. Garshan carried her out of the tent and to his massive black horse as she considered the name. It was a good name for him. Harsh, guttural, but (to her admittedly-biased ear, at least,) possessing a certain beauty. Just like the man who owned it.
Anna's musings were cut short as she was swung up into the saddle in front of him. As a proper lady, she'd never ridden a horse any way but sidesaddle before, and she blushed at how her dress rode up her spread legs. His appreciative green gaze took away any embarrassment, however, and replaced it with the first stirrings of arousal, especially when she realized that her position (in front of him in the saddle, her back against his stomach) put her bottom right against the crotch of his leathers. She grinned and rubbed back against him a bit, then leaned into his chest with a contented sigh. Tharona and Nakree were already mounted on smaller but equally sturdy horses, docile mares to Garshan's huge, fiery-tempered charger. Anna had been much afraid of this horse, who's name was Roksor, orcish for protector, but her husband's gentle hand had complete control of the beast, and she felt safe as she always did in his arms. Garshan gathered up the reins of the six packhorses that were carrying the smaller version of the command tent that they would live in, their food, and all their clothes, and rode out of the city, followed by Tharona and Nakree. As soon as they were in the mountains, breathing the cool air, he sighed happily. Anna heard and twisted around to smile up at him.
"Are you happy to be leaving it behind?" she asked softly, laying her hand at his where it rested against her stomach.
"Yes," he said, smiling down at her. "I enjoy power as much as the next man, but the responsibilites get old sometimes. I'm not complaining, however." He gave her hand a squeeze. "If I wasn't a king, I'd never have found you." Anna blushed deeply and beamed up at him, then laid her head against his chest and closed her eyes. No matter where they were going, it would be wonderful with him there.
A/N: Hey all! Sorry it took so long to update, life has been REALLY crazy lately. Also I apologize for the lack of sex in this chapter. Rest assured, their little honeymoon in the mountains will have more than enough to make up for it. Enjoy!