Free The Orc King's Captive by Clea Kinderton Page A

the warmth and color from
the air around it, turning his emerald eyes the color of decayed flesh. "A
bit of stone with the power to render the Queen of the Elves as harmless as a
milkmaid."
    Quolondra tried to shrug off the
guards, but they only tightened their grip. "You fool! What do you hope to
accomplish? Even if you hand me to the orcs, do you think they'll let you live?
They won't suffer an elf to sit on the Ivy Throne. Without your magic you're as
doomed as the rest of us."
    Tolterian slipped the orb back
in his robe and gave Quolondra a tight smile. "Your concern is touching,
Queen Mother, but you don't need to worry about me. I've made all the necessary
arrangements."
    There was a resounding boom on
the large double-doors. The orcs were using a battering ram. The doors shook
but held.
    Tolterian made a quick gesture
to the chief of staff. "Bring her collar."
    Quolondra struggled to free
herself, but she'd hand-picked the guards herself for their strength and
discipline. Without her magic, she was as helpless as a child. If Mygamyl were
here... but no, he'd be as helpless as she was. The mere presence of the Ur
stone was enough to strip them of their power.
    The chief of staff brought over
a small, plain chest and unlocked it. Inside was a ring of Ur stone, fashioned
in the shape of a dog collar. Tolterian lifted it gingerly out of the bed of
silk, as if it were as delicate as glass. He clicked it open at the hinge and
then took a step toward her.
    Quolondra tried to pull away but
Tolterian grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head back, making her
wince.
    He snapped the collar around her
neck, then he drew a small key from a pouch inside his robe and locked the
collar in place.
    "So ends the reign of the
Queen," he said, placing the key back in its pouch. "I trust you'll
make the most of your new life as a slave. I dare say you'll be poorly
treated." He gestured at the others. "Chain her to the throne. Her
new master won't be pleased if he has to chase her around the room."
    The doors rang again. This time
dust and bits of stone fell from the wall around the hinges. A large dent had
been made in the middle of the doors. It was only a matter of time, now.
    Two more guards drew a long
chain from a chest and affixed it to her collar before attaching it to the
throne. The weight of the chain dragged on her. It was made of the same metal
as the collar.
    "You'll regret your
treachery, Tolterian," she said, baring her teeth. Her heart was beating
in her chest like an angry hawk. It had been centuries since she'd known real
fear. She'd almost forgotten what it felt like.
    "On the contrary. I imagine
you'll regret it much more than I will. Personally, I expect to enjoy the
fruits of my treachery for a very long time."
    The doors to the throne room
buckled and the stone frame crumbled in a cloud of dust. There was a metallic
screech as the heavy metal portals tore from their hinges followed by a
thunderous clang as they crushed the marble. The delicate pillars supporting
the high, arched ceiling trembled.
    Tolterian and the others
disappeared hastily through a secret door behind the throne, sealing it behind
them.
    Quolondra cast her eyes desperately
around the throne room. She was alone.
    ––––––––
    W hen the dust settled, she saw
the vanguard of the invading army. A pair of massive, dull-witted ogres held
battering rams in their hands like wooden clubs, towering over the hordes of
savage-looking orcs. There must have been a hundred of the vile, hairy brutes
standing in the hall, and no doubt there were thousands more crawling over
every surface of Hylandryl.
    I've failed, thought
Quolondra. My people are dead or dying and I am helpless to avenge them.
    The orcish victory, though
sudden, hadn't been a painless one. Brightly feathered elvish arrows poked out
of the orcs' spiked, black-ring armor, and dark, purplish blood dripped from
countless wounds. Her people hadn't gone down without a fight. Even