Path of Dragons 17 - Chapter 64 - Loyalty (Patreon)

Elijah let Guise of the Stalker fall away as he approached the fleet.  He wanted them to see him coming, mostly because if he just dropped out of the sky without warning, they might react poorly.  But there was also an element of information gathering there as well.  It hadn’t been that long since he’d seen the orcs, but a lot could change in a short amount of time.

And many of those changes were dependent on the situation.

The fleet itself looked similar to the last time he had encountered it.  Thousands of ships of varying sizes comprised the force.  Some were almost as large as Ok’tarik’s flagship, which was to say that they were at least as large as the biggest oil tanker from Earth’s history.  Probably bigger, though at that size, Elijah started to lose a little context.  Others were no bigger than a luxury yacht, though Elijah knew from experience that their holds were larger on the inside than they appeared from without.

Elijah also saw evidence of the new cannons, which were slightly smaller but still large enough to pack quite a punch.  They weren’t exactly like the weapons aboard the Vengeance.  Orcish craftsmen were incapable of replicating those, even with the help of the Star Forge.  However, what they could do was adapt some of their driving principles to incorporate them into their own work.

The end result was a much deadlier fleet, though Elijah hadn’t seen them fight since those changes had been implemented.  Most of his information was secondhand.

Thankfully, the orcs didn’t attack him.  Elijah knew they would recognize the Shape of Withering, but that was no guarantee of good conduct.  Orcs were volatile and aggressive creatures by nature, and it wasn’t entirely outside the realm of possibility that one might think to challenge him.

Or an entire armada, come to that.

The only thing truly holding them at bay was Ok’tarik’s iron grip on the horde.  If he loosened it even a little, they would revert to their normal actions. 

Elijah didn’t need to search long to find Ok’tarik’s dreadnought.  The ship was the largest in the entire fleet, and it had been built according to a unique design.  The carved dragonhead at the prow alone was enough to single it out.

Elijah used Ride the Wind to glide to the deck, then landed softly.  Immediately, he shifted into his human form and summoned Thorn to hand.  The nearby orcs recoiled.  Most had seen what he’d done in the arena, and as a result, they were terrified.  The majority of orcs had no real notion of cultivation, but they knew enough that they recognized the consequences of having their cores destroyed.

For his part, Elijah ignored them. Instead, he adopted a commanding demeanor that he’d developed while living in Agmar.  Orcish behavior was driven by a distinct pecking order.  There was no room for nuance.  Nor would they respond well to timidity.  Knowing that, Elijah wasted no time in marching toward Ok’tarik’s cabin.

He didn’t knock.

Orcs didn’t understand the custom. 

Instead, he used Soul of the Wild to inspect the interior and found something surprising.  He never broke stride, entering the cabin without hesitation.  There, he saw what he’d felt through his ability.

“Why is she here?” Elijah asked.

Ok’tarik looked up, but he didn’t immediately answer.  Instead, he finished tucking the furs around Makit’s prone body.  She was awake, but as always, she seemed almost insensate.  Not completely unconscious.  At times, she could speak.  And there were a few instances where she seemed almost capable of standing. 

But that was a false sign.

Makit wasn’t getting better.  Not so long as Elijah was her only Healer.  He had considered bringing other people in to help, maybe some of the Healers from the expedition.  Ultimately, he had chosen not to, and for one simple reason.  He didn’t want to give Ok’tarik hope, then fail to provide any true relief.  Not only would that put an innocent Healer in the line of fire for the orc warchief’s disdain, but it would also endanger the alliance Elijah had so arduously built.

Was he certain that Ok’tarik would react so poorly that he would throw away years of work?

No.

In fact, Elijah felt confident that Ok’tarik could control himself better than that.  However, the niggling knowledge that Ok’tarik was still an orc kept ahold of Elijah’s thoughts.  On top of that, the warchief had shown that he wasn’t entirely rational and far from predictable when it came to Makit.

All of that added up to Elijah withholding access to other Healers. 

He wasn’t proud of that.  And he told himself that even Ron would struggle to fix what was broken inside Makit.  He also insisted to himself that the cause was just.

He almost even believed it.

The reality was that it was just selfish.  Elijah had his goals, and he wasn’t going to let one sick orc affect them.  Even if it filled him with guilt.

“We have come to offer aid,” Ok’tarik said, not bothering to answer Elijah’s question.  “Is Callux here?”

Elijah shook his head.  “I left him on Earth.”

Ok’tarik clearly didn’t know how to react to that bit of knowledge.  His face remained stoic, but his fists clenched.  He had always known that Callux would leave Orveth Kaal.  He’d even championed the idea, hoping that his son would have a better life.  In addition, he understood the implications – that Callux being able to leave the ancestral world could provide a link to his people’s freedom.

But he was still a father who didn’t like being separated from his son.

“Good,” the orc forced out. 

“You said you’ve come to help with the dragon?”

“We have come to negotiate,” Ok’tarik stated evenly. 

Elijah frowned. “Negotiate what?  We have given you access to better technology.  Your fleet is deadlier now than it ever was before.”

“You did so for your own reasons,” Ok’tarik said.  “We wish for more than better cannons and more efficient engines.  We want equality.”

“You are equal.”

“That is not true.  You and your people hold yourselves above us.  You have since the beginning,” Ok’tarik argued.  “That must stop.”

“Or?”

“Or we stand aside.  Whoever wins this war will either capitulate or die,” he revealed.

Elijah wanted nothing more than to rise to that challenge.  His fists clenched in anger as he said, “What about all of those rituals and rites?  What about all the time –”

“My people come first.  As yours do for you.  You have completed the rites.  You have proven yourself worthy.  But you are not an orc.”

Elijah met Ok’tarik’s eyes, and the two stared at one another for a long few seconds.  Finally, Elijah asked, “What do you want?  Spell it out.  No vague demands.  What does equality look like for you?”

“Resources,” the orc said.  “This world is rich.  We have helped to harvest treasures.  We have guarded your people as they mine its ore.  We want some of the spoils.”

“Define some.”

Ok’atrik did, laying out a dozen parameters ranging from percentages of ores to access to Tradesmen and Engineers.  But then, he gave one more ultimatum, and it was the one Elijah had dreaded since the very beginning.

“I want a Healer for Makit.”

“I have healed her,” Elijah argued, shame bubbling inside of him.  Not at the semi-refusal, but rather, at the realization that other people – probably ones whose opinions he very much respected – would soon learn the depths to which he’d sunk.  Elijah wasn’t certain how someone like Ron would react to Makit’s condition, but he was absolutely positive that he would be judged for the immorality of experimenting on a pregnant woman and her unborn child.

Ultimately, that was the true reason he hadn’t brought Healers in, even if he didn’t really admit it, save in the depths of his shameful thoughts.  He told himself that he’d exhausted all the possibilities, but his brand of healing just didn’t compare to someone with a focused archetype.

Now, it seemed that his hand would be forced, because Ok’tarik said, “You have failed.”

“She’s alive.”

“Barely.  Allow someone else to try.  That is all I want.  If they fail as well, then we will know that there are no more options,” Ok’tarik stated.  Elijah could feel the subtle plea in the orc’s voice.  The desperation felt entirely out of place.

There really wasn’t much choice in the matter.

Could Elijah have pressed the issue?  Perhaps, but that would require a fight that he just couldn’t afford.  Only a few hundred miles away, the siege continued.  It wouldn’t take much longer for the Vengeance to fail.  After that, the members of the Earth expedition would be killed.

Not captured.

Outright killed.

The remaining Vyrin dragons might be taken captive, but only if that was perceived as valuable.  In reality, they would probably be slaughtered as well, just for the sake of expedience.  Once that happened, all the other dragons would turn their attention to the battle between Masasha and Illska. 

The two were already evenly matched – at least enough that neither could easily finish the other off – but with a few hundred more deity dragons thrown into the mix?  Illska would fall.

Not easily.

But assuredly.

Ok’tarik had Elijah backed into a corner where the only viable option was to give the orc what he wanted.  Morality aside, Elijah couldn’t afford to refuse.

Still, his instincts told him that negotiation was something akin to failure.  He’d worked so hard to build the alliance.  He’d jumped through their ridiculous hoops.  And he’d shown them his might.

It hadn’t been useless, but the effect didn’t last.  As Ok’tarik said, he wasn’t an orc.  That counted against him, but so did their culture, such as it was.  They would only follow so long as they had no other option.  That required repeated displays of strength, which was impossible for Elijah.

He had too many other responsibilities to babysit his position among the orcs.

Meanwhile, Ok’tarik was their true leader.  An orc who’d spent centuries establishing himself by killing any challengers to his authority.  Compared to that, Elijah’s brief foray into orcish leadership was nothing.

The result was that he had no choice but to give Ok’tarik what he wanted.

“Fine.  You get your Healer.  One, and of my choosing,” Elijah hedged.  “If they tell you something you don’t want to hear, you accept it. I want your pledge that you will not hold them accountable for something they cannot control.”

“You have it.”

After that, they spent the next few minutes negotiating percentages.  Elijah wasn’t that up-to-date with the current state of the operations from the Earth expedition, but from what he saw, they had plenty to spare.  If the orcs ended up taking too much, then Elijah would deal with them after the war with the dragons had been settled.

Assuming they all survived.

In the end, Elijah and Ok’tarik shook hands.  It was still an alien gesture to the orc, but he employed it to show Elijah that he was willing to compromise his nature if it meant a better outcome for his people.  He’d shown something similar with Callux.

With that settled, Elijah explained the situation surrounding the Vengeance.  He didn’t have all the details of battle, but he knew enough to give a succinct overview.  Ok’tarik listened intently, obviously considering how best to deploy his people.  At the same time, Elijah explained his own intentions so that the orc could adjust accordingly. 

The situation was desperate, but timing was also delicate.  A little too late or too early, and the orcs’ arrival would lose much of its effect.  To that end, Elijah and Ok’tarik quickly established their plan. 

Most of the early part hinged on Elijah and the other humans, but then, the weight of the fight would shift to the orcs’ shoulders. 

Finally, they agreed on timing.

“Don’t make me regret any of this,” Elijah said before he left.  “I don’t intend to lose this battle.  But if we do and I find you’re responsible…”

“We will do our part.  Ensure that your people do theirs,” Ok’tarik countered.  “Both in the battle and afterward.”

“I will.”

With that statement – and a final look at Makit – Elijah left the cabin and, after shifting back into the Shape of Withering, returned to the Vengeance.  Now that the alliance with the orcs had been reaffirmed, there was nothing else left but to engineer an apocalypse.

Oddly, Elijah was much more comfortable with that than he had been with negotiating with Ok’tarik.