Wild Wastes Omnibus

by Randi Darren

  Kitch shook her head once.

  “To your people, then,” Vince said with a nod.

  Saluting crisply with her crossed arms, Kitch spun and barked out an order.

  The rear rows began peeling out and spreading out into a winged formation around Vince.

  Kitch took the center, hovering over him as if she were a trap waiting to be sprung.

  “Damn, Kitch, have you been drilling them non-stop? That was a perfectly executed maneuver just now,” Vince murmured under his breath for the Troll.

  “We live to serve. We train to serve.”

  Vince snorted at that and looked back to the oncoming humans.

  They were distinguishable now. His Ratfolk scouts had been right. One and all, they had the look of refugees fleeing. They carried whatever possessions they could manage. A few even had wagons or carts.

  A sad, sorry-looking lot indeed.

  Wondering what they’d do, he couldn’t help but be curious as the mass came to a stuttering stop. Then a small group of humans broke away and began walking towards them alone. With a white sheet tied to a branch held above their heads.

  “Why they wave that?” Red asked.

  “Flag of truce. Parley. Peace. It means they want to talk. Or surrender.”

  Red wrinkled her nose at that and then squatted down, her clawed fingers raking the grass.

  “Talk, talk. People talk to Bringer a lot.”

  “That they do,” Vince said neutrally.

  He’d rather talk than slaughter them all anyways.

  Clearing that many corpses from the field is never quick.

  “Ho there!” called one of the humans. “We come in peace! Peace!”

  “Nervous lot, aren’t they, my liege,” Elysia said.

  “You would be too if you were staring down Kitch and her people, no?” Vince waved his arm wide above his head. “Ho there. Come in peace, and you will receive peace.”

  Emboldened by his words, the humans picked up their pace and hurried on towards him.

  It looked to be about six humans. Four men and two women.

  “I am, my name is, that is—” said the man in the center.

  Vince waved his hand at the man stumbling over his words, urging him to continue.

  “I’m Mark. We’ve been chosen to discuss terms for everyone.”

  “I’m Vince of Yosemite. Any terms that would be struck, would be with me.”

  Mark visibly sagged with what Vince thought was relief. “Blessed be.”

  A woman directly on his left clasped her hands together.

  “Lord Vince, we’ve come to petition you.”

  “So I gather. And what is it you want? Passage? Escort? Resources?”

  “Citizenship,” said the woman. “Citizenship to Yosemite.”

  Closing his eyes for a second, Vince held up a hand, and paused. Opening his mouth and then closing it again he contemplated her answer.

  “You’re saying you all wish to join Yosemite as citizens?” Vince asked, clarifying. Finally settling on the idea that he’d come from curious. Coming from curious was something his father had told him to do often.

  “Yes!” chorused the group out of sync.

  “You realize Yosemite is home to every race out there but humans right now. Yes?”

  “Yes,” they said again.

  “And that there really isn’t an economy as of yet. If there might ever be one. Everyone is assigned a position that’s best suited for them and expected to work. Housing, food, and materials are provided, but no pay. You understand that?”

  “Yes,” they repeated again, several nodding their heads.

  “Why? Why would you want this? I don’t understand,” Vince said directly.

  “We’re from the north,” Mark said. “We just… we just want to live our lives. It’s been said that Yosemite is that. People living their lives. That the kingdom goes to you for armor, arms, in purchase. That they leave you to yourselves. That the Wastes are no challenge to you and they consider you neutral.”

  Odd. That’s either some really coincidental rumors or the people we’re buying and selling from have wagging tongues.

  “And you’d subject yourself to my rule? Do you understand that this isn’t a city you can just up and leave when you please? That before you’d be granted citizenship you’d have to go through an interview?

  “Those with ulterior motives or seeking to do Yosemite harm would be turned away. Is this still enviable to you?”

  That one looked like a surprise to them. They turned their heads to one another and began having an impromptu conference right there.

  After a frenzy of hurried whispers, Mark poked his head back up. “You say we can’t leave?”

  “No. We’re a city state that could be at the mercy of any other nation at any other time. We’re in this together, or not at all,” Vince reaffirmed.

  Mark looked to the others, then nodded his head. “We’re agreed. Can we begin interviewing immediately?”

  Great.

  “As you’ve already guessed,” Elysia said archly, her fingernails tapping her ledger. “Our resources are stretched beyond thin. Beyond abysmal.

  “On top of that, you’re going to need to stick around for a few months to make sure everyone is acclimated and accounted for. Beyond that, you have children who haven’t even seen you before today.”

  Elysia held up a finger for each point she ticked off. “Suffice it to say, your calendar is going to be booked for a while. You’ll be meeting with several ambassadors, race leaders, and proposed councillors.”

  “Ah, yeah. The councillor thing,” Vince said, rubbing at his chin with thumb and forefinger. “How’s that going?”

  It’d been one of Elysia’s ideas. A council to serve as race facilitators for Vince. They had no power, other than what they could persuade Vince into doing.

  “So far, so good. With one voice for every race, everything seems balanced despite population count. There’s been a few minor problems, mostly within racial constraints. Everyone not getting behind one candidate.”

  Vince shrugged his shoulders. “Normal politics then, yeah? That’s good as long as there’s no violence.”

  Elysia sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose with a single finger. “There has been the threat of it. I warned them that any violence in the city would be met with immediate expulsion after an interview with one of the Dryads.”

  Snorting, Vince looked from Elysia to her younger Dark Elven counterpart. “I take it that solved it?”

  “Quite,” Elysia admitted.

  “Everything you’ve said so far isn’t unexpected, and honestly, was more or less what I was thinking.

  “What about you, Felicity?” Vince asked, addressing the Dark Elf.

  She looked akin to Thera, and if he didn’t miss his guess she was probably from her family directly. She didn’t look older than eighteen though. She didn’t have quite the same build, and looked a touch more womanly in all areas.

  Scholarly bent where Thera was military placed?

  “I-I believe my sister is right.”

  “On what point,” Vince said challengingly. He’d need to press her a bit.

  Couldn’t have someone around who wouldn’t call him out after all.

  “All of them. We need you here more as a figurehead than an individual contributor.

  “In addition to her points, you’ll need to secure all the Dryads that you brought with you, as well as all of those who Daphne and Meliae coerced into coming here.”

  With a dramatic sigh Vince gave the Elves an honest smile. “I don’t think I could run this place half as well as the two of you do. All of this resource management, politicking, and people pleasing is best suited for a pencil pusher.

  “A mousey little man that would prefer to work behind a desk all day and run numbers and sums. With a name like Felix. Cower and hide behind his people and let them do the work for him.”

  Leaning back in his chair he tried to link his fingers
into one another, only to be surprised when he couldn’t.

  His eyes went to the missing fingers on his left hand and he had a momentary pause in thought.

  A mousy man wouldn’t be missing fingers.

  “Ok. Here’s my thoughts. I should probably meet with whoever is responsible for the Elves I brought in, Bermeen’s, and Mark’s groups.

  “Speak with them and get them settled.”

  “Already done, my liege. My family will handle all the new Elves. It’s best for us to take care of it.

  “We’ll be conducting interviews with a few of the Dryads present, combing through them for recruits, and making sure we give everyone the chance to leave, of course.”

  Vince wasn’t surprised. They’d of course use this opportunity to cherry pick the Elves they wanted in their family.

  Marry a few in, adopt a few others, grow the branches. Ever increasing powerful Elven family.

  Maybe even create a secondary branch family.

  He’d do it too, if he had to be honest. It was a smart move.

  Good thing they’re loyal to me.

  “So that leaves the humans and the Orcs,” Felicity chimed in.

  “The humans aren’t a problem, my liege. They’re already setting up camp in front of Renzig’s Stand and getting themselves in a proper order for interviews. Karya and a good number of the Dryads you brought back with you are already processing them.”

  “Ok, so, the Orcs are mine to handle at a leadership level?” Vince asked, hoping to get something to work on out of this meeting.

  He knew he’d be bored eventually. They’d only gotten back today and he hadn’t gotten a chance to see Meliae or Fes, because they were with his sleeping children.

  There was no doubt in his mind that they’d probably seek him out the moment they could slip away.

  Probably hand the kids to Petra and another Dryad and make a beeline for me.

  “That’d be best, my lord,” Felicity said, bowing her head a fraction to him.

  “Alright. I’ll get right on that. I’ll track down Bermeen and see what all he needs for his people. I’ll try to situate them outside the eastern wall until interviews can be done. What about housing?”

  “My liege, I’ve taken care of that. I had the carpenters start working on large dormitories immediately after I received your message. We’ll need to build two more, but we’re not far off from being able to meet everyone’s needs.

  “After the interviews start, and we finish the other dormitories, we can start building houses. I imagine we’ll see some combined families again though. Having this many Dryads in one spot is allowing a very large number of viable hybrid pregnancies. Humans make great partners. Their traits pass easily and are the most likely to breed with anyone else.”

  “Huh, didn’t think of it like that. Alright. Off to see Bermeen.”

  “Who?” came Fes’ voice from behind him.

  Looking over his shoulder, he found his Fes watching him. She looked different without her swollen belly. And doubly so when he thought of her as being a mother now.

  Getting up he immediately crossed over to her and hugged her tightly.

  She might be an Orc, and wasn’t big on displays, but he wouldn’t allow her to get away right now.

  “Hello, my Fes. I’m looking forward to seeing our child. No one will tell me what the sex is because they didn’t want to spoil it for you.”

  Fes turned a dark green as she clearly blushed, her eyes widening from his sudden approach. Then she pressed her face into his shoulder as if to hide.

  “We have a daughter. She is not yet named, as I did not wish to do it without you,” Fes murmured into his clothes.

  “Ah, a daughter? Interesting, interesting. I’m eager to see what she looks like. She take after you?” Vince said with a grin.

  Fes nodded her head against him, not lifting her face.

  “Good. And as for your earlier question: Bermeen. He’s an older Orc. I challenged a clan for the right to pass through. Had to kill their warleader. Red—you haven’t met her yet—killed the second in command when he tried to ambush me.”

  “Bermeen,” Fes said, finally lifting her face from his shoulder. “You’d consider him an elder?”

  “Uh huh, why?”

  “Ber is a family clan name. Ber Enga. Ber Meen.”

  Vince blinked twice, not quite understanding.

  “I think you just conquered my clan and brought it underneath me as Fes. Bermeen is my grandfather,” said the Orc with a wide tusk-baring grin. “An interesting and unexpected gift, husband.”

  Chapter 13

  An hour later and Bermeen sat himself down across the table from Vince.

  “Warmaster,” Bermeen said, his black eyes giving the small room a once over.

  “This is where I hold private one on one meetings. It’s simply easier when there’s nothing else that can distract the attendees,” Vince explained.

  He didn’t want Bermeen thinking he was disrespecting him.

  The bushy brows of the old Orc came together before he nodded once.

  “Our clan is moving to the eastern wall as you wanted. We’re starting to work with the truth minders. We’ll need orders soon,” Bermeen said.

  “Ah, yes. That’s fine. Most will be given jobs that suit their skills. Be that war, basket weaving, or otherwise. Elysia will probably be on hand or have one of her minions available to give them an appropriate task or job.”

  “The Elf?” the Orc said, with a strange quirk to his mouth.

  “One of them. Two of them are just outside the door waiting to see if they need to storm in and take your head from your shoulders,” Vince said, aiming a thumb over his shoulder at the only door in the room.

  “Beyond that though, what else do—”

  As if because it had been mentioned, the door opened. Turning his head to look, Vince saw Berenga enter and close the door behind herself.

  “Sorry, husband, our daughter woke and needed to be fed quickly,” Fes said, coming to sit down on Vince’s right.

  “Bermeen, may I introduce you to my first wife. Fes Berenga,” Vince said, indicating Fes with an open hand.

  “Ah…” Bermeen started, his eyes locked on Fes. His mouth hung open partially, unable to continue.

  “Grandfather, it’s good to see you,” Fes said, giving him a grin. “Welcome to my home. I am Fes to Vince, lord and ruler of Yosemite.”

  Bermeen sat frozen solid for a few seconds, before he finally smiled back at her. “It brings me joy to see you have found your equal. He said your name earlier when he declared his honor. I did not dare hope it was our Berenga. Your mother and aunt are with the truth minders. Your brother left after you did, to find a Fes.”

  Fes gave a short nod of her head. “Vince killed—”

  Bermeen grunted, interrupting Fes.

  “Yes. He did. It wasn’t even a challenge. It was done in less than two attacks. Then his red eyed pet monster killed his brother when he tried to attack Vince without honor.”

  Fes leaned her head back and laughed loudly. Eventually she got control over herself and leaned into Vince, giving him several kisses.

  “I’ll reward you greatly later, husband. I’m afraid our seed grower tells me I’m not ready for anything for a while yet. Our child was complicated,” Fes apologized. Then she turned and looked to Bermeen. “Speaking of, you have a great-granddaughter now. You shall know her.”

  Bermeen’s smile only got wider. Then he leaned forward and said something in Orcish.

  Fes laughed and slapped the table, lifting a hand to her grandfather.

  Somehow, Vince had fixed the one thing he wasn’t sure he could.

  He watched as his Fes spoke with family she thought long lost to her, in a language he would never master despite his many attempts.

  Vince opened the door to the nursery and slipped in quietly. Sitting in the middle of four waist-high bassinets was Meliae.

  Her green eyes were watching the door as he
crept through. He hadn’t been as quiet as he thought he’d been—or she’d been on high alert.

  Giving him a smile she stood up and held a finger to her lips. Gliding over to him she held out her arms.

  Carefully, Vince shut the door behind himself and then wrapped his arms around the Dryad, pulling her in close.

  “Welcome home, husband. You have two sons, and two daughters,” Meliae whispered into his ear.

  Oh, now they tell me. When I’m so close to discovering it myself.

  Meliae kissed him hungrily, pressing him up to the door. She ground herself into him, her fingers gripping his belt tightly.

  As quickly as it came on, she shifted her weight, leaning away from him. Releasing his belt with a shuddering breath she laid her forehead on his chest.

  “Sorry, I’m sorry. Being that pregnant, being so far along that is, really did help with the self control,” she whispered. “Now with you here, it’s so much more difficult.”

  “S’ok. I missed you, too. I know Petra named our son Vince the second. Fes didn’t seem like she knew what she wanted to name our daughter. Now it comes to you though, my Grove Mistress. What do we name our children?” Vince asked, nuzzling her ear.

  She bounced energetically in his arms and then swept away, moving to the two bassinets on the left.

  Vince trailed along, not quite sure what to expect.

  As he got his first look, he felt his face freeze up.

  Two sleeping faces lay motionless in their blankets. Their chests rose and fell, lost in deep slumber.

  “This is our son,” Meliae said, touching the child on the left. “I’m not sure how you feel about it, but I like the name Keith.”

  Vince nodded his head, that seemed like a strong name to him.

  Keith had the look of any other baby he’d seen.

  He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

  Maybe it’ll get easier when they get older?

  “Good, Keith then,” Meliae whispered. She brushed a finger over Keith’s brow and moved to the next. “And this is our daughter. I would… I would prefer to name her Mila. It’s my mother’s name.”