160 Chapter 160

"Damn them." Olasird'arc growled, they remained prowling in the periphery of his vision, the stench of their bodies in his nose was impossible not to notice, but with freezing breath instead of flame, there was only so much he could do to keep them at bay.

"Come out and fight!" He bellowed.

"No!" Someone shouted back.

A crude arrow flew out of the woods and struck his scales. It pinged off, useless, but it inflamed the temper of the dragon. He tried to move, his limbs were stronger than before, but he was hobbled, and he had to worry about reinjury.

"Then go away! My-" Olasird'arc started to shout, then stopped, 'Friend? Comrade? Nurse? Caretaker?' He wasn't quite sure what to call the curious squire that treated his wounds fearlessly under his eyes where most would have struck him down. "Partner, will be returning soon, and when she does, the woods will not hide you!" Olasird'arc bellowed. 'Better to boost her reputation a little bit for intimidation.'

"Partner? Everybody knows dragons don't have partners! You're lying! You're tough, but we'll keep shooting, keep nicking away, and then we'll have dragon meat for weeks!" The voice came from the beyond, and a crude spear with it, which bounced off Olasird'arc's nose.

"I do! The Huntress of the Wilds! The Terror Eyes, the bow-mistress so feared by her own kind that they cast her out to hunt the monsters they dread!" Olasird'arc pumped the squire up with titles and latched onto a story she mentioned, "She slew your brethren wholesale, sparing only children to carry the tale of her work to you so that you would know not to come south into her domain! You must be beyond mad and desperate to attack me now!" The dragon laughed at them, and the demihumans out of view were quiet.

His sharp hearing caught bits of what they said.

"There were… some children who came north, who spoke of a short woman with horrific eyes who used a bow and killed all before her with such ease that nobody could draw close enough to even strike back…"

"They didn't mention a dragon… Hey you, dragon, how'd you get hurt?!" The demihuman shouted back.

"Ask my partner!" Olasird'arc made the answer utterly nebulous, and the demihumans grew quiet. Slaying a wounded dragon was one thing, doing so while the one who wounded and tamed it was still around was another thing entirely.

They withdrew, but he could smell them even if he couldn't hear them.

They remained around him all morning.

They remained around him all afternoon. Skulking, out of view.

Occasionally a few emerged, they would fire a few arrows, throw a few spears, or come into view to draw his breath only for him to take a blow from somewhere else.

Scratches emerged, they targeted his unhealed wounds and his eyes. 'Given enough time, an ant can kill a lion, as long as the lion can't move or fight properly.' Olasird'arc cursed his life and ill luck.

The moon was still high in the sky when he smelled fire.

The demihumans were shouting, and there was the faint smell of a human in the air.

He heard the twang of a bow. A shriek of horror pierced the darkness.

The twang of the bow came out several times, the smell withdrew, the demihumans were up in arms, the whole camp besieging the wounded dragon was thrust into chaos.

Their numbers dwindled. A shriek pierced the night and the smell of burning flesh lit the air. A burning deer ran through the woods, smoke leapt up wherever they ran, the camp was churned into madness out of view, and the bow twang went again, and again, and again.

"I told you my partner would come back!" The frost dragon shouted into the night, "and 'she' has not had her strings cut!" He bellowed as the little tribe fled back north again.

Most of them, stoked by fears of being hunted in the darkness, broke and ran, vowing privately never to venture south again.

One however, was not so fortunate.

Olasird'arc watched as his 'partner' emerged from the burning woods dragging a wounded orc by the neck. She cast him down at the space between them as the flames continued to light up the darkness and block the moon with smoke.

"I caught one." Neia said, and pointed to the back of his knee where an arrow went through and through.

Olasird'arc took a long look at her, seeing in the dark proved no obstacle, and as humans went, it was a good, 'fearsome' look. Her armor was darkened, her face painted with shades of black mud, she had accented her eyes to give her naturally terrifying eyes an even more enhanced look, her limbs were cloaked with a improvised woven leafy 'garment' of sorts with woven moss wrapped around to make her blend in to the environment. 'No wonder they couldn't see her. Most would use magic but… most 'look' for magic too. Clever.'

Before then, 'cleverness' as a form of strength had not occurred to him, and yet between the burning deer to create chaos and the natural way she hid herself so that she seemed to come and go like an ephemeral demon was clearly enough to turn the tide.

"Is he for me to eat?" Olasird'arc asked.

"If you want." Neia said, though her face went a little greener than the bulky orc when he said it. "But I was hoping he would consider an apology and a promise never to return." Neia added.

"Yes! I'm sorry! Let me apologize! We were just hungry! We were desperate! Things are bad! Clan wars, hunger, we were driven south, there was nowhere we could go! We couldn't let our children starve! You have to understand! We were desperate!" The orc was musclebound in principle, but a closer look revealed he was clearly leaner than he had once been, his belt was tighter, his body was shaking in pain.

She nocked an arrow and drew back her bow, putting it to the square of his back.

"Please! I have a family! I have a wife! I have daughters! If I die, they'll suffer! Let me go! I'm sorry! I just wanted to save them!"

The orc was begging, pleading, he rolled onto his back, his arms out, tears in his deep sunk eyes, "I'll leave! I'll never lead my people back here again! I promise!"

"You're their leader?" Neia asked, her bow relaxed a little.

He gave a tiny nod.

'Pity got me into this damn mess…' She cursed herself, killing when necessary was one thing, but this was different.

"The gods must truly hate me." Neia muttered, and relaxed the draw on her bow.

"What is your name?" Neia asked.

"To'Raven." The orc answered.

"Can you walk, To'Raven?" Neia asked.

"Hobble." He answered.

Neia crouched and yanked the arrow out the other side of his injury. "Hobble home, To'Raven. Bless the day that the loathed of the gods was moved to pity, and… a word of advice to you. When you cross back to your homeland, don't fight fair next time. Your daughters depend on winning, not honor."

"Y-You're letting me go?" To'Raven asked with disbelief and looked at the dragon behind his head.

"If my partner doesn't mind?" Neia said, running with the dragon's identification of their status.

Olasird'arc wasn't sure where she was going with what she was doing… but he grunted along. "He does not smell good to eat."

"Then yes, you can go. Some of those deer probably died, gather their meat, avoid the flames, and… oh, wait," Neia glanced at the dragon, "could you?"

Olasird'arc made a quick guess at her intent and blasted out his frost breath as hard as he could, sweeping the trees and killing the worst of the spreading fires.

"Tell the others what you've seen here, To'Raven." Neia's eyes loomed over him. "Spread the word to other tribes, do not come south, unless you wish to be hunted."

To'Raven began to roll up and stand with terrible winces, "Your enemies will know your face, before you even know their names. Thank you… for my life." He muttered, and began to hobble away.

When they were alone, the dragon spoke to her, "Why spare him?"

"I'm a soldier, a paladin, a squire. I want to protect my people, but I don't want to be a murderess. He wasn't my enemy, his hunger was. He'll go north, live or die, and if he lives, he'll tell others what happened here. I'm despised by my people because I look like I loathe them more than I do. Considered an outcast among my order because I don't have the same overt hatred of demihumans that they do. But, in combination, those two things mean I can create a useful reputation. As long as I'm smart, and don't encounter anything that is too much for me, I can protect my people without having to put up with them, and maybe both sides will be a little better off if we're not always trying to kill each other."

"You don't hate them?" Olasird'arc asked.

Neia shrugged it off and wiped her face clean of her improvised makeup.

"No, it wasn't demihumans that didn't want me, it was my fellow humans. They sent me out here expecting me to die, but I don't plan on dying, and I've still got a job to do." She said and glanced in the direction the orcs were fleeing. "So does he, and that's all there is to it. I'm sorry about the delay in getting back to you, by the way. I had to take the long route to avoid them and gather some supplies." Neia explained as she went to check Olasird'arc's injured limb.

The sun was just creeping over the horizon then, giving her a better view of what had taken place in the night.

"Supplies?" Olasird'arc asked.

"Yes, I needed something to put the deer to sleep, so I had to find a particular plant, grind it into paste, and then hit them with it. I had to do the same with some flammable plants, make some improvised rope to tie to them, and… well it's not easy, but once I had them going it was just a matter of a normal hunt. Only the prey was two legged. Orcs are not good in the forests, they're plains and hill dwellers, I had a natural advantage and they were spread out. Kill a few sentries with stealth to get inside their lines and the chaos was inevitable. Attack, retreat, attack again somewhere else. Fear did the rest. Fear is a powerful, powerful weapon if you know how to use it." She said and reached into her pack.

"I got what I needed for your wounds, you'll be able to walk again in probably another month, two at the most. And as long as you can keep from scratching, you should be able to fly by then too." Neia said, a little bit sadly.

"Good… that is all… did you learn how to do all that in your training to be a squire?" Olasird'arc asked.

Neia shook her head, "A little, but the Nine Colors library had a lot on wilderness survival. I got access to their books and read all about what plants do what, the pictures helped, plus how to make the stuff that I did. I also got to study some of the strategies of generals in the past. One of them used oxen with burning tails to create a rout among his enemies. I didn't have oxen, so I used deer. Not as dramatic, but it worked." She grinned a bit.

"Hmmm, is that so?" Olasird'arc asked rhetorically and thought that over.

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Hoburns was a proud city, not as old as Kami Miyako, nor as large as Arwintar, but a proud and prosperous city nonetheless. The throne room epitomized this, with bright white stone columns beneath a great high ceiling, the white throne of the Queen was polished so much it might as well have been made of light.

But the Queen was not happy. No...

The Holy Queen was aghast when she heard the report. "That is… expensive."

"Yes, My Queen, but the border guards report an increased need for drills in times when the demihumans do not invade. In the past, long periods of peace typically were followed by large scale invasions, we must be at our peak. Their invasions are cheaper than the training because at least after that we can plunder the dead to offset the costs, and we don't have to pay those of our own who die." The minister said with a grimace.

The Queen shifted on her throne, "Don't speak like that! Every life is precious! I want a Kingdom where nobody will cry, and what greater sorrow is there than the loss of life?!"

The minister bowed his head and stepped a pace away from the white throne.

"Next, we've had a string of nasty cases of corruption among public officials, corruption isn't really that uncommon, but a number of these cases were very prominent and involved important people."

"What kind of corruption?" Queen Calca's perfect lips formed a thin little frown.

"Bribery, mostly. But blackmail and worse has become a serious problem too. Temples were especially hard hit. Two mistresses have come out in public and accused high ranking priests of a number of crimes, including pilfering temple funds for personal use."

"Outrageous!" Calca's slender fingers closed into fists.

"My Queen, this is worse than outrageous." Kelart Custodio said from off to the left side.

The Queen was brought up short. "Kelart…?" She asked with a more gentle voice than she used with the minister a moment ago.

"My Queen, these have been coming out constantly for some time now, people are no longer going to judges, order has been breaking down, the Southern Holy Kingdom is taking issue with these scandals saying they don't want to send their funds North to be 'squandered'. Some of the Paladins rode south with Remedios, about collecting withheld funds only to be immediately rebuffed. And when I say 'rebuffed', I mean she stood at some gates blustering and then started riding back without a fight because they had children inside the walls. We look weak… and your rule has not been the most favored by the South…"

Kelart reached out to rest a hand on Queen Calca's arm, the Queen remained still, quiet, unsure.

"Are you saying… we're facing civil war?" Calca barely breathed the word past her lips, the very idea was unthinkable on so many levels. "Why don't we just send the demihumans word that we're throwing a feast, then?" The caustic criticism caused Kelart to withdraw her hand.

"My Queen… I love my sister, but… her idealism is often in the way, perhaps consider sending someone else… we can't let the lesser nobles become emboldened." Kelart warned, and Calca stiffened.

"I want a Kingdom of Justice, where nobody suffers, how can I get that if I attack my own people?" She looked sideways at Kelart.

"Majesty, how can you not? We love your ideals, that is why we're here, but there is simply no way you can fulfill those ideals if the nobles and the churches turn against you, and no way to do it if the commoners don't trust you." Kelart closed the hand that touched the queen before, making it into a fist and holding it up.

"Majesty… Highness…" She said in a hushed, desperate tone, "If the people think the judges are taking bribes on the decisions of their cases, then the people will stop going before the courts for their disputes. They'll instead turn to murder, banditry, intimidation, theft, and more. If the people think the guards are criminals, and worse, if they're right, then the guards will just become well armored thugs either in people's minds or in fact. Either one is bad. If the south cuts us off, how will we maintain the wall that keeps the demihumans of the Abelion Hills out?"

That had everybody rendered quiet. With the Theocracy's long war against the elves over more than one hundred years in duration, the Abelion Hills had a freehand against their neighbors.

Invasions from beyond the wall had been fought off in the past, but at great cost and it required the strength of north and south alike in order to achieve that end. Divided, apart from the vast well of southern manpower and materials, the less populated Northern Holy Kingdom's bulwark would be critically weakened.

As the Holy Queen, Calca had the obligation to keep the relationship between North and South secure, as well as keep her own more immediate domain solvent and incorruptible. If the South chose to not support her, she would be Queen in name only, and likely either herself, or her head, would be removed.

"Announce an official inquiry into the activities of the judges and priests, a formal 'official' investigation, we will stamp out corruption at the root and branch from our Kingdom." She gave the order, and Kelart gave a courteous bow to her beloved Queen. Her hair fell aside when she did, and the radiant and beautiful golden haired Queen briefly caught her breath with envy. Many had whispered that the Queen and Kelart were engaged in a torrid affair… something both laughed at in private. In truth, Calca just had a professional appreciation for the woman's effortless beauty. Calca's use of magic to enhance her beauty, not to mention her vigorous use of cosmetics, was less widely known outside of the palace. But because of her familiarity with it, she knew when someone else used none. So she appreciated and envied Kelart's effort-free presentability.

"Now, one more thing, wasn't there?" The Queen asked.

"Yes, my…" Kelart coughed in her hand several times, "sister, sent a report that in the more wildlands, hunters have reported the sound of roars, painful ones. The word 'dragon' popped up a lot. There was a massive fire out there as well, it burned quite a bit of woodland and then just… stopped. The few rangers who go out beyond the wall to speak with the few 'semi-friendly' demihumans, have said there are all kinds of rumors going around out there. She wants permission to investigate the region with some of her best."

"Remedios is very closely connected to my values, if she wants to investigate, I'm sure it is purely in the interests of the common good, let her go," Queen Calca asked. "We all know she wouldn't do anything to bring harm to my people. What could go wrong?" Calca asked, and when nobody argued, she gave Kelart a nod of approval, and the order was given.