Tanya's Third Life as a Barbarian Queen, Chapter XXXIX

I will have the chapter as links to download at the bottom of the post. As well as a link to the Google Document page.

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Kontia.

Warden Nicola Luci.

I had never particularly liked the business of whorehouses or brothels. Perhaps that was hypocritical of me, as all workers sold their bodies in some capacity and what was respectable or degrading was often merely a matter of perspective. But it was an undeniable fact that the oldest profession had a particular way of debasing everything and everyone involved.

"You like that?" She asked with barely contained lust while I kept an eager smile. I quickly gave her a muffled affirmation and was careful to offer the correct noises as I had been instructed by more qualified workers. I looked up at the solidly-built woman, who proudly sported a number of scars on her body. Each one had a story that she was eager to tell me, and sometimes the same scar seemed to have many different stories depending on how drunk she was.

We were in a rather spartan accommodation, owing to the fact that Kontia only had so many brothels, beer houses, and other such establishments of ill repute. Also, the city was suddenly filled with a great many Barbarians and not enough facilities to effectively extract all the wealth they were eager to throw around.

This used to be an inn, now it was a brothel. Many inns were now brothels. And the Lepus did not seem to care all that much about the decor.

The Lepus in question bit her lip as she looked down at me as she, quite gently I imagined with the natural strength of the woman of the steppe, pressed her foot against my face.

Just stepping on me. Not to cause pain, no, she would just press the soles of her feet into my face, my stomach, my chest. At times she became daring enough that we touched our feet together, something she was eager to do for hours at a time and had the silver on her account to pay whatever was asked! She did not even particularly mind hiring female attendants, she just wanted to do... this.

She paid for this.

...What was I doing with my life?

After the male Lepus in the Governor's employ had escaped the city, rather than helping me organise a proper surrender to the Tanaoi, I had braced for the worst with the man's escape. The Tanaoi Queen had been extraordinarily merciful, though, and the looting had been almost suspiciously light in the wake of her conquest. 

With most of my properties and wealth still in play, I quickly adapted to the new rulers of Kontia by forging documents and deeds, making me the owner of a great number of assets that had been abandoned by my peers fleeing the city. I had, in a very short amount of time, grown inordinately wealthy.

Wealthy enough that I should have someone who could do this job for me. But the fact of the matter was that, while land and gold flowed like water, I was actually suffering a dearth of reliable talent. This job was far too sensitive, far too important to entrust to just anyone.

I just wished it was just a bit less... whatever this was.

Lieutenant Tara of the Tanaoi had come to my attention shortly after Kontia surrendered when I was compiling reports from my workers due to an interesting story she told an Orcish girl. Tara had claimed that she was not only a great warrior of her tribe, something they all claim. But she knew the magic that allowed the Tanaoi to break apart stone walls in moments, since she claimed that she fought with the weapons that slew Wyverns.

This was an opportunity that simply could not be ignored, no matter how ignoble the path before me. I had to walk it, for humanity.

"You look good under my foot." She purred. "Kiss it," came the order I had been dreading, and I suppressed a resigned sigh.

I am doing this for Humanity. I had to remember that.

It had been slow and difficult, but I had spoken to Aief the Lepus before he fled at length as to the disposition of his people. The man had been eager to describe, in rather remarkable detail, how to appeal to the Women of the Steppe. At the time, I could not even imagine what use it was knowing what scents calmed the Barbarian Women and what scents excited them. What expressions to use, how to move in ways they liked.

But information that might seem useless tends to become incredibly valuable in the fullness of time. In truth, it was information itself that was the most precious commodity in existence. I had used Aief's wisdom not just on Tara, but on many of the more wealthy, more well connected, more noble Lepus.

But again, Tara was special. Because while she might tell boldfaced lies about her scars, while she might make absurd claims about her exploits, she was telling the truth about the weapons. Being the Lieutenant of what the Tanaoi called an 'Artillery Company' gave her access to information of such value that it made moments like this worthwhile.

So I massaged both her body and ego, I played the part of an eager morsel for whatever depraved obsessions occupied the mind of a Steppe Barbarian, I put aside my pride as a Human and subordinated myself to the savage.

The hours spent literally under the heel of the Rabbit would be worth it in the end.

"More wine?" I offered as our time was slowly coming to an end and Tara's face had grown more and more red as dawn slowly approached. She held out a horn with a brass handle, and I made sure to fill that horn with so much wine that some dripped over the edges and Tara laughed and quickly drank from the vessel with a contented sigh.

"You should have seen it," she began, "the fort was there one moment, the next it was gone and the Legionnaires turned and ran! Screaming all the way back to their camp! Terrified! Ha! Oh what a sight," she slurred wistfully.

"And this was your bunpowder?" I probed.

"Oh uh, gunpow- wait, no i like that better!" She laughed and jabbed me in the side with her elbow, winding me as casually as she drank.

"But how could the powder cause such destruction? You said you had to light it with fire for it to do anything," I pointed out, leaning into her as she pulled me close and rested her cheek atop my head.

"The Queen, she made an enchantment that works like a flint and steel but can be used at a great distance. Just fill the fort with the barrels, use the enchantment, and BOOM!" She shouted, sending wine splattering to the floor.

"I have never heard of anything like that." I impressed upon the woman my ignorance and she ate it right up.

"Hmmm, it is like a... uh, plate of copper, small thing, they made them look like combs for the hostages," she mumbled yawning.

"Your mages are incredible," I whispered, helping her hold the winehorn steadily.

"Not just the mages." She grinned and clumsily groped me. "You know what's funny? It all starts with piss!" She snickered and I quickly joined her. "We killed the Ninth Legion with piss!" 

"The powder?" I prompted.

"Yeah, it's like this..." She began as I refilled Tara's horn again.

It was worth it, every humiliation, every sacrifice. It was all worth it.

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Kontia.

Tanya, Queen of the Tanaoi.

"You took long enough!" Rory Mercury blocked my path. The diminutive waif of a woman clad in black and red lace had puffed-up cheeks and her hands planted firmly on her hips as she glared at me. She stood in the middle of a path leading to a small farmhouse I had converted into a command center after the fort was destroyed. It was somewhat further back from the front line, but that was by design. If the Saderans attacked like they had before, with what could only be described as a suicidal frontal assault, we could well be pushed back considerably. 

I had spent the night not just re-organizing from the last battle and rebuilding the defensive line, but also preparing for the battle today. I had not eaten and only drank sparingly until the sun had long fallen below the horizon, and there was nothing else to do but accept that my subordinates would carry out my orders to the best of their ability.

...And to hope that I had given them the correct orders.

"Ah! Your mind is wandering! For shame to allow a fair maiden to sit and wait with nothing to do!" She chastised me as I blinked away the fatigue that fell upon me like a hot blanket.

"You're a maiden?" I asked and received only a giggle in response as she skipped forwards to take my hand and drag me to the farmhouse.

"I had them prepare dinner for us," Rory informed me, as if her commanding my subordinates was the most natural thing in the world. "Later than I would have liked, but you are here now, and I suppose you are a busy woman." 

"Dinner does sound nice," I offered, stomach rumbling as I was rather unprofessionally dragged into negotiations I had not prepared for. But Rory knew I could hardly object if I wanted to maintain any relationship with the Emroy brand. That I was hungry played no small part in that decision. 

"Honestly, a promise to be tended to, only to be shamelessly neglected," Rory muttered. Before I could respond, I was pulled into a small candle-lit kitchen with a table hosting a diverse portfolio of dishes and sides. Bread and cured meats with rich and fresh-smelling olive oil sides, cheeses, sweet cakes, wine... The prospect of filling my belly made the troubles of the day seem distant, and I settled in across from Rory who had no sooner sat down that she began to savagely attack the feast presented just to us.

I could only guess at the appetite of an Apostle and if the sheer amount of food that seemed to disappear into the petite lady before me was normal, but I had a body that demanded nourishment just as she did. In what felt like mere moments, we had turned a feast into crumbs.

It was in the awkward silence that followed where Rory seemed to watch me more carefully, an unexpectedly serious expression on her face.

"While amusing, I owe you an explanation," Rory offered, clasping her hands together. "For my behaviour during the battle. I should have been ready for the surge, but I am somewhat out of practice. I promised you that I will not allow myself to be so distracted again and I meant it, but it might take some time for me to grow used to being present in battle again." 

"The surge?"

"During a battle, when a life is taken in my presence I can serve as a vessel for the spirit of the recently deceased to move onto the afterlife."I frowned as she began to explain. 

"The souls are gathered together to me and then I offer them to Emroy directly."I blinked, that sounded somewhat like a focusing array, like an antenna.

"This incapacitates you? Serving as a vessel?" I asked, only mildly interested in what happened to a soul in this world in truth.

"When I am not ready for it." She nodded. "I used to be more used to the sensation, but we live in an era of peace, or we did until Zorzal led the legions to the Steppe."

"Something of an over-reaction, considering the state of the borders," I complained, earning an ambivalent shrug from Rory.

"This war was always meant to happen, but not quite like this..." She drummed her fingers on the table. "I will be traveling north to the last stand of Tyuule and the vast killing fields within the next year at least." She turned to look at the wall as if she could see beyond it. "Lest necromancers gather to pry and steal what does not belong to them."

"After I defeat the Ninth Legion, I intend to stay in Kontia during the winter, but in the spring I will form an army to contest the Steppe and make contact with my scattered kin." I saw no reason not to inform Rory Mercury of my plans, since she had demonstrated she was fully willing to leak sensitive information when she betrayed Zorzal's confidence. It was beneficial if the Saderans learned I intended to move north.

In truth, I would take perhaps ten thousand at most north, as it would be foolish to take an overbloated host to march across the Steppe when the land could barely support such numbers. The Saderans should have learned that by now, if not they would be funneling supplies up the westernmost road on the other side of the Lizardman wetlands.

There was an opportunity there.

"Then you will escort me," Rory decided with a teasing smile, "to make up for your neglect!"

"I do apologise, with the Saderans withdrawing in good order I had so much to-" Rory lent forwards and took my hand as she cocked her head to the side, opening her mouth to speak when the door burst open.

"Your Majesty!" Major Lucia entered the farmhouse with a young and exhausted-looking runner in tow. "My Queen," Lucia continued, "the Saderans have surrendered." 

I stared dumbfounded at Lucia as Rory let out a frustrated sound and puffed up her cheeks at the interruption.

"...They have?" I offered rhetorically, not quite believing my luck.

"It was just getting to the good part!" Rory bemoaned the change of circumstances while slumping onto the table. "If Zorzal was not dead, I would kill him myself!" 

"What did you say?!" I demanded from Rory as she rolled her head to the side and let out a frustrated raspberry.

"It was just getting to the good part?" She offered as I glared at her.

And she had the temerity to giggle.

"Bring the Saderan messengers here, I want their surrender organised now! Get everyone up, Cadets too. We have tens of thousands of swords to confiscate."

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The sun had just started to rise into the sky as tens of thousands of Saderans stood in neat rows. Their arms and armour neatly arrayed, as Lepus moved from century to century collecting the steel and iron into wagons and carts to be taken to Kontia, was a precursor to the actual surrender.

I felt lightheaded, almost listless at the sudden shift in fortune. We were still outnumbered considerably, but what had seemed like an indomitable mass of carefully-disciplined violence had clearly rotted away from the inside. 

Saderan Centurions watched the dis-armament while still carrying their weapons and armour, a clear statement this was not an unconditional surrender. A statement that served me as well as them. I had my victory, I had no intention of humiliating them.

I rode into camp atop a horse, one of the first times I had ever ridden one in truth. I had been careful to select a mount that was temperate, even lazy. This was a precarious situation that could still turn deadly for my people, so appearances mattered. I entered the Imperial camp proper with four hundred of my most capable fighters at my back.

I was not taking any chances.

"Queen of the Tanaoi." A young human man in a fine silken, blue senatorial toga with a blade at his hip approached us. Darious El Silvia, not a name I knew until the Ninth Legion surrendered. He was not particularly important, nor did he come from a particularly well connected family.

He was one of Zorzal's vast retinue, a young man who had attached himself to the Prince and now found himself presiding over the surrender of the Ninth Legion because he was the last man alive who legally could.

"Mister Silvia." It would likely sound demeaning, but I genuinely did not know how I should be addressing the man. Besides, it was somewhat rude to address a Lepus without using her name so he would have to forgive any disrespect.

"I will take you to the command tent, nothing has been touched since it was discovered," he said with a sigh. There were a number of Centurio Primi around him who still had their arms and armour equipped. Technically that was a violation as only the commander of a Century was permitted to retain their arms and the Primi did not directly command Centuries. 

I would have them disarmed later once more of the Ninth Legion had been, but there was no reason to cause a fuss at the moment.

"Do you know the whereabouts of Tyuule? She is considered a criminal agent," I inquired as Silvia shook his head.

"I will have to show you, we don't know where she is but, well, you will understand when you see it." I frowned at that. He could explain the situation to me now, but I had my women surround his group as we were led into the camp. A number of squads from my army were already picking through the camp and dismantling the tents to be relocated to an area I had earmarked for the Saderans to go.

It had several quality wells and a number of empty fields. I would have to prepare for winter quartering of so many men, but it was expected I would be using the surrendered Saderans as a labour force so I was not terribly worried on that front.

We arrived at a vast tent that looked more like a wooden structure with a tent grafted onto it, situated upon a wide hill overlooking the camp. Dozens of Saderan corpses had been laid out to one side in a neat row.

"I thought you had not touched anything?"

"We have not touched anything on the inside," Silvia clarified as I climbed down from my mount and followed him inside, a number of my command staff at my back as well as Rory and Cato who was helped down from his own mount by one of my personal bodyguards.

Furniture was splintered and scattered about the place. Butchered men were scattered about, left where they had been stabbed or cut apart during a fight. Documents and equipment were strewn across the ground and the entire place stank of death. My party gingerly entered the Saderan command nexus while Rory stalked inside without much fuss.

In the middle of the room atop a long table that had its contents thrown to the ground lay Zorzal's corpse. Despite the fact he was naked and headless, Zorzal was quite identifiable for his gargantuan stature in the middle of his command tent surrounded by butchered Equites and Centurions. A slip of paper was crudely nailed to his chest.

I glanced at Brigadier Enya, who nodded and stepped towards the beheaded form of Zorzal and picked up the message from the dead man. She scanned the latter first before wincing, glancing at me before sighing and opening her mouth.

"I, Tyuule, High Queen of the Pomi, henceforth offer my full and unconditional support for the ascendancy of Queen Tanya of the Tanaoi to become the High Queen of all Lepus for her courage and manifest accomplishments. I pledge myself to serve the new High Queen loyally and faithfully until my dying breath or until Tanya ceases to be our High Queen. For the glory of our mothers, for the glory of our race I pledge myself to service."  Enya read aloud in front of the assembled high-ranking officers, prisoners, and even Rory, who looked to be struggling not to laugh as she turned to grin at me.

It was an impressive move, honestly. Tyuule had been High Queen for a reason: she was not just a brute, and she was very much a brute, but she was also a canny political operator. She knew full well what she was doing with this letter.

I was going to kill Tyuule for this!

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Edited By: Shirojacky

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1ufBeEArkefsPPAZIlIXUU0qJcpDNqfbCrKEg6OZvLdk/edit?tab=t.0