Service to the Queen

Queen Nallia had schemed and plotted. She had hired bounty hunters and adventurers, every last bit of scum with a sword or a spellbook to acquire the Orb of Primarchus from that barbarian tribe of minotaurs to the north. All that power in the possession of bull men who had no proper ambitions and wanted little more than a tract of land to graze and mate with their cow women? It would be laughable, if it were not for the minotaur's tendency to rip off the arms or heads of any envoys she sent to them. They were simple creatures but had terrible tempers and loved their greataxes.

She didn't believe that the horrid sellsword Brus had what it took to get the orb from the Minotaur Chieftan when he promised her it last autumn. But six months later, her royal adviser had excited called her to the throne room where Brus had dragged the head of the minotaur in his left hand, and had the stormy blue magical orb in his right.

When something like this fell into her lap, it was best to pay off the mercenary and get the Orb into her hands as quickly as possible. Brus was practically a barbarian himself, with his bulging muscles and his massive two-handed sword. He had done her a great boon, and she would reward him nicely, with a newly minted ducal title, and a duchy far away from the capital, perhaps in the Western marches.

"Oy, I know you promised me lands and titles, and the minotaur's weight in silver, and I do appreciate that, but I nearly lost my head a dozen times getting this orb, your grace, and I've got twenty-seven, no, twenty-eight new scars for my troubles. So I think there might be some additional payment due, milady."

Her vizier sputtered out an objection; the payment was the payment, and not a small one at that. What did the crown care about a sellsword's head? But Queen Nallia raised one hand and bid her vizier to stop. She would hear his request. The Orb of Primarchus was a key to nearly unlimited power. There wasn't much with which she wouldn't part if it meant she got the Orb. If the sellsword wanted baubles to part with it, she would give him baubles. She doubted he knew the power that he was giving her. She kept that thinking to herself, and merely bid the mercenary to tell her his request.

"Glad to hear my Queen can be reasonable," the fur-clad barbarian said with a bow, "I merely wish that I take the Queen's hand in marriage. After all, I'd be a duke, and that's a fitting title for a queen's consort."

Her vizier again raised his voice in protest. She cut him off with a curt glance. This was nothing. She had killed two husbands before, when they stopped being of use to her. It would be nothing to take the brute in marriage. With the Orb in hand, she could live forever. She could win the interminable war with Polyaklus to the south that her father and grandfather had stuck her with. She could treat with angels and demons; she'd be the most powerful human on the planet. And this idiot wanted nothing more than to say he was the Queen's consort? If he didn't please her, she could have him killed. This was no price at all, she thought.

"You do realize, though, great and mighty Brus, that we are past the age of childbearing? We could not give you sons," she said. A flush ran through her.

"I've got sons aplenty across the realm," the barbarian said with a shrug, "Bastards are as good as true sons for my people. 'Sides, your grace, my seed is stronger than other men, so you never know."

She blushed. Her vizier was agog. She paid the vizier no mind. Why did the idea excite her? Her eyes drifted away from the orb to the muscles of Brus. They were slick with sweat and dirt and blood. She didn't doubt his virility. Feelings were forming inside her that she hadn't felt since she was a princess, waiting to take the throne.

The Orb of Primarchus flashed in the hand of Brus.

"We find your terms acceptable, mighty Brus," she purred, continuing to stare at his arms. "My mighty duke, Brus the conqueror. We will wed you. Now, if you please, hand over the promised Orb."

"Truly, your grace?" Brus said, smirking at the Vizier. "Did you get that, scribe?" Her vizier struggled to meet Brus' gaze. The vizier seemed so small and weak compared to her new consort. "Now, I don't want to start our relationship on a sour note, but I've heard a few tales of your treachery, Nallia. You're a nasty girl, sometimes."

"Oh, we assure you, my mighty champion, lies and calumnies spread by our enemies. Like that wretched sorceress whore that rules Polyaklus." She felt her blood rising, as Brus approached her throne, "We assure you, we're as sweet as a summer breeze." She shifted her gown to show him what he had just bought. The thoughts were exciting her.

"Still, until the wedding, I think I might hold on to the orb. It'd be quite a wedding gift, wouldn't it, love?"

She bit her lip, as he got closer, and then pouted when she realized what he was saying. "The Orb is to belong to the throne, that was the deal when I sent you on your quest, Brus!" she whined.

"Oh, well, that's easy enough to work out," he said. She felt her newly-heavy chest heave up and down. Her new husband was so manly, that her thoughts were racing as he came close enough for her to touch. "How about I sit on the throne with the Orb, and you sit on my lap, pretty lady?"

"YES!" she cried out. She wanted that more than she wanted the orb, to touch Brus, to feel him. He could ravage her and lick her and taste her every inch, do whatever he wanted to her. She wanted him more than the Orb she realized. She got up and let the barbarian sellsword take the throne, and gleefully jumped into his lap.

"Vizier, we are to be wed as soon as possible. Within the week. We demand it!" The Queen shouted before breaking out in giggles and kissing the neck of her new consort.

They were wed before the night fell, as the Queen could not wait any longer. It was a hastily-arranged fair, but a widowed Queen like her needed to be married as soon as possible. Her nephew, the heir apparent was still on a hunt in the country side, but that was just as well. Brus would give her a new heir, lots of them. With the Orb of Primarchus, they would create a dynasty that ruled without end.

Shortly after the wedding, Queen Nallia and her newly-made Champion-Consort, Brus, went south to Polyaklus to treat with the sorceress Queen Zami XII. The Champion-Consort was quite confident in his ability to end the war.