It took Sandra and Brax three trips to carry the treasure out of the cave, and they had the maintenance robots help load everything into the ship. They had just finished when General Sevritas returned with Milton and a few soldiers wearing red uniform coats and smug expressions.
The general dipped his head in acknowledgement. "Your spell worked, Commander Chang. We met with minimal resistance, and we have prevailed. All the orcs in the field have been bound and captured."
His chest swelled and his tone of voice carried a sense of pride, as if this had been a major military victory on his part. She glanced at the orcs Brax had bound around the entrance to the mind flayer's cave. They were beginning to come around, and those few who seemed remotely aware of the world around them appeared cowed. A few were on their knees hunched and puking.
"Any injuries?" she asked him.
"None. My men came through the encounter unscathed."
"I meant the orcs."
He grimaced. "None that I am immediately aware of. But now that we have them, what do you propose we do about them? I don't see why we shouldn't simply kill them all now."
He visibly recoiled from her resulting glare.
"Humanely, of course," he amended. "It seems to be the simplest and best final solution to this problem."
"Their disposition is something I need to discuss with our official liaison," she said, nodding toward Milton, who seemed fairly cowed at the moment himself. He stood well away from the general and looked like he'd like to be farther.
The crew of the Brane Child had discussed the matter of what to do with the orcs last night, and Doc had come up with a brilliant plan. At least she thought it was brilliant. The people here might have a different viewpoint. The problem was that it required the king to go along with it, and for that to happen, it must be presented properly and by the right people.
The general objected. "The boy? Now that I'm here, I should think that you would prefer to deal with—"
Lisa raised her hand, an eyebrow, and her voice to interrupt him. "Milton is the official representative of the city assigned by your king, as I recall, and the fate of the orcs has magical implications, which, frankly, you may not fully grasp."
General Sevritas huffed, but she had played a king, and he was, in this card game of medieval politics, just a jack of clubs—or in his case, swords.
"Well, in that case," he backpedaled, "I'll see to my men and await further orders from the king."
"Please see to the orcs as well. You may need to leave men to guard them overnight. If so, see that they are fed. As I'm sure you are aware, the king has much to consider in this matter. It may take some time."
He nodded, but his face said he didn't like taking orders from the tiny foreign woman standing arrogantly before him. The top of her head barely reached his nose, and although she had to look up to do so, she looked straight into his eyes. He returned her gaze, uncertain but unafraid. He was probably an excellent soldier. She still didn't like him.
"Oh, and one other thing," she said.
"And what might that be?"
"Can you have some of your men take the body of this creature to your king?" She pointed to the deceased mind flayer. "We will be at the palace soon to collect the boon he promised us, but first we must discuss certain issues with the young apprentice mage."
He nodded grudgingly. "Very well. I'll see to that."
She turned her attention to Milton and crooked a finger. "I need you to come with us."