Crusade - James Lowder [147]
Only a few Zhentish troopers seemed to be awake, and most of these were sprawled around smoking campfires, swilling wine and eating their midday meal.
Vrakk was seated near one such collection of orcs. He still wore his black leather armor, and Azoun noticed for the first time that, while the orcs' surroundings were like a sty, their piecemeal armor and scavenged weapons were relatively clean.
"General Bloodaxe tells me you are reluctant to leave," Azoun said casually. He held his hand up when another orc offered him a wineskin.
"Thank you, but, no."
Vrakk snarled at the orc with the wineskin, and the smaller, brown-furred trooper slouched down and concentrated on the hunk of meat he had burning in the fire. "Orcs not go home," Vrakk replied. "That our orders."
"Orders?" Azoun asked. "From whom?"
"Zhentil Keep," the orc replied. Vrakk's tone revealed that he was surprised at Azoun's ignorance. "We new outpost. They order us stay in Thesk."
A frown crept across Azoun's face as he regarded the orcish commander.
"And you've had these orders from the time you left the Keep, haven't you?"
Vrakk smiled, or what passed for that expression with the orc. His large teeth showed yellow and filmy in the sunshine. "Keep say we stay with Alliance till Tuigan gone. They say orcs trust Ak-soon to let leave in Thesk."
I gave my word to those villains, the king concluded silently, and they've used me to place a damned Zhentish outpost of almost nine hundred orcs in the middle of an ally's territory. Azoun sighed. "I don't suppose you'll be setting up your camp here in Tammar, so take your share of the supplies and leave right after sunset. I know your troops can travel by night, so that shouldn't be a problem."
The Zhentish commander found this agreeable, and wasn't offended at all when the king refused his invitation to share the noon meal with him. Though Vrakk appeared rather ignorant, he knew exactly why Azoun was distressed by the revelation of their plans.
"I will tell the Theskan authorities that your troops stayed in their territory,"
Azoun warned solemnly as he prepared to leave. "They'll consider you trespassers, Vrakk."
The orc's toothy grin widened. "We good soldiers, Ak-soon, but we better raiders, better thieves. Thesk big place with plenty spots to hide." He grabbed the wineskin from his brown-haired comrade and took a long swallow." 'Sides, we learn plenty about war from you. We be safe."
That thought didn't comfort Azoun at all. As he walked back to the royal compound, the king wondered if Koja was right. For all the good that he had intended to do on the crusade, Azoun now saw very little evidence that he'd succeeded. The town of Tammar, like so many other villages and hamlets in Thesk, Ashanath, and Rashemen, lay in ruins, the buildings toppled and the fields uncultivated. The Tuigan army was broken, but not gone from the West.
The small groups of bandits that remained would likely plague traders and farmers for years to come. And now the orcs. The Theskan government would not be happy to learn that a band of professional Zhentish soldiers was loose in their land.
I've freed Thesk from Yamun Khahan and made it safe for bandits and spies, Azoun concluded darkly.
The king scowled at himself for being so morose. "I've won far more than that," he said as he looked around at the Army of the Alliance.
The troopers were celebrating the news that the war was officially over.
Men went happily about the task of breaking down the camp, and the soldiers Azoun passed greeted him loudly. Some even cheered him. However, it was more than the mood of the camp that made the king realize that he'd won more than was lost. As he looked out on the faces of the archers and infantrymen, he no longer saw the motley collection of dalesmen and Sembians, Cormyrians and mercenaries, that had left Suzail those many months ago. Azoun saw a unified force, a group of men and women brought together to fight for Faerun.
And if these disparate soldiers could be forged together for such a cause,