Under a Hostile Sky

Stonegate Keep was filled with whispers that were becoming louder and moving along the hallways like invisible vipers. The tenuous tolerance between Grakka's goblin contingent and the human garrison had vanished after the fire and the ensuing, inconclusive investigation, and had been replaced by plain animosity. Resources were purportedly "misplaced," fighting increased in frequency, and Kaelan received more urgent reports from Captain Vorlag, his keep commander, about declining morale and conversations among the ranks that verged on insubordination. The story was taking shape: the peace accord was a risky mistake, and the goblins—led by the eerie appearance of Kaelan's own goblin wife—were trouble.

"Sir Kaelan," said Captain Vorlag glumly in a private meeting, his countenance troubled, "the men are frightened." While her warriors move like shadows, they witness Lady Grakka honing her weapons. The deal invites the fox into the henhouse, they murmur. We must demonstrate our oneness. Together, they must see you. Taking charge. strengthening the king's order."

Despite how personally repulsive the idea was, Kaelan recognized the political imperative. It was important to allay the garrison's fears, or at least to keep open opposition at bay. In their living room, he discovered Grakka carefully removing and cleaning the lock mechanism on her chamber door, a chore she appeared to carry out with unnerving regularity.

"Grakka," he said, skipping the small talk, "the discord in the garrison is increasing." Rumors rage. I agree with Captain Vorlag that a joint appearance is required. During the garrison muster tomorrow morning, we have to check the supply shed repairs. To show... solidarity. The final syllable felt ridiculously fake, and he stammered over it.

Grakka stopped what she was doing and stared up at him, her black eyes impenetrable. "Solidarity?" she sneered. "You want to parade me before your frightened soldiers like a prize boar?"

With a stern reply, "I want to prevent bloodshed," Kaelan said. "Only those who want this peace to fail benefit from open strife within these gates. It is tactically necessary that you stand by me and officially acknowledge the deal. It reminds the men that this partnership, despite its tensions, is a firm one and supports the King's decree.

Grakka thought about this, her practical mind balancing the possibilities. She obviously didn't appreciate being on show in public and being watched by unfriendly people. However, Kaelan's framing—preventing confrontation, tactical imperative—aligned with her own brutal reasoning. Any strategic advantage Grok'nar hoped to gain from this agreement was weakened by more occurrences inside the fortress that endangered her own warriors. With ill grace, she said, "Fine," and went back to her lock mechanism. "Human posturing is pointless. But I'll be by your side. Avoid tripping over your own significance.

The next morning, they strolled toward the lower bailey, where the garrison was gathering for the morning muster next to the recently restored supply shed, from the relative privacy of their tower suite. It was like running a gauntlet on the journey. As they went by, servants with buckets or laundry pressed flat against the chilly stone walls, their eyes wide, and some of them made almost unconscious protective gestures. Men-at-arms and knights stopped talking in the middle of their sentences and turned to gaze, their faces displaying everything from blatant disdain to terrified curiosity.

Whispers trailed behind them like flies circling a dead body.
"There she is... the goblin bride..."
"Sharpens her teeth on human bones, I hear..."
"Mark my words, she'll slit his throat in his sleep..."
"Why does the King force this upon us?"

Pretending to seem indifferent, Kaelan maintained a steady gait and a forward-looking stare. He was keenly conscious of Grakka at his side and the blatant animosity she was the target of. It was a furious, protective rage over the contempt exhibited to the covenant and to the King's command she represented by her very presence, not a particular concern for her feelings (he doubted she cared much about human judgments).

For her part, Grakka wore a mask of complete indifference as she walked with her head held high. She radiated a "do your best" attitude, meeting the harsh gaze with a challenging twinkle in her own black eyes. She listed the internal responses: ignorance, fear, and hatred. predictable. Human emotions were erratic and chaotic. In contrast to the artificial courtesies she occasionally received, she found their obvious hatred to be almost invigorating. This was at least truthful.

The muster ground was reached. The garrison jerked to attention when Captain Vorlag yelled at them, their gazes darting anxiously between Kaelan and the goblin warrior who stood calmly beside him. The air was heavy with bitterness. Kaelan moved forward, ready to speak to the soldiers about the significance of maintaining the King's peace, discipline, and the continuing investigation.

A gruff voice growled from the rear ranks, "Peace?" It was Sergeant Marius, a large, infamously irritable soldier who was known for his outspoken antipathy against goblins. "What peace is there when the commander himself beds down with a greenskin monster?"

The courtyard went silent in shock. The wind seems to pause its breath as well. The mutinous muttering of those surrounding Marius gave him the courage to stand defiant.

Kaelan's words cut through the quiet like icy steel, and his response was immediate. "Sergeant Marius!" Although he didn't yell, his tone demanded full attention. "You lose sight of yourself. You also disregard your oath. His steely eyes blazed as he stepped toward the soldier. As a symbol of an alliance formed to put an end to the carnage that has cost this kingdom dearly, the Lady Grakka is here per the King's order. It doesn't matter how you feel. Upholding the King's orders and the treaty sworn in his name is your responsibility. "It is disrespectful to His Majesty and this agreement to treat the Lady Grakka disrespectfully," he said, allowing his eyes to wander across the gathered soldiers. Subordination is what it is. Treason is what it is. Do I express myself clearly?

Marius stammered a hurried "Y-yes, Sir Kaelan!" as he clearly paled beneath Kaelan's concentrated rage.

Kaelan concluded in a dangerously low voice, "See that you remember it." There was a startled stillness as he turned around to speak to the troops, reclaiming his authority.

Grakka had observed the exchange with indifference, but Kaelan's prompt and unambiguous defense—which was based solely on duty, the pact, and the King, not on personal slights—registered. It was effective. He had not so much defended her as he had guarded the role she unwittingly held. He had firmly exercised his power to crush opposition that threatened the agreement. Practically efficient.

Later, while Kaelan was wrapping up his speech and turning to look at the shed's repairs, a visiting bursar from a nearby town who was renowned for his haughtiness sidled up. "A fine speech, Sir Kaelan," he replied, his faint smile barely masking a sneer. "How a knight of your rank manages to survive... hanging about with such animals for political advantage is a mystery. Wouldn't you say that the price for peace is high?

Kaelan tensed up, ready to respond with a scathing critique of knighthood's responsibilities, but Grakka moved before he could say anything. She didn't pull out a gun. She just took a single, fluid, predatory step in the direction of the bursar. She paused right in front of him, cocked her head, and surveyed him from head to toe with a deep, critical disdain, as though assessing a particularly repulsive insect.

"This knight," Grakka remarked in a gravelly, low voice, each word clipped, "keeps the peace your soft town depends on under control." Little man, you respect the person who wears the leash. Her tusks glinted as she leaned gently in. "Or I might test the strength of that leash myself."

With his face drained of color, the bursar gasped and staggered back, almost stumbling over his own feet before scuttling off.

This second, unplanned intervention was met with a startled hush. Kaelan gave Grakka a quick look. There was nothing visible in her closed-off expression. Had she stood up for him? Or simply emphasized the significance of his part in the agreement that ensured her (and her troops') present security? The latter he suspected. However...

The inspection was completed swiftly. The looks continued to follow them as they made their way back to the tower, but the whispers appeared to be more muted, now tinged with perplexity and maybe a reluctant fear. Neither Kaelan nor Grakka acknowledged the happenings or spoke. However, their eyes locked for a fleeting, intense moment when they arrived at the relative seclusion of their hallway. It wasn't friendship or warmth. It was the hard-edged, wordless comprehension of two very different creatures who had just stood side by side, although uninvited, against a shared wave of animosity. They were viewed as monster and consort by the outside world; a peculiar, acute alignment had developed within the mutual blaze of that prejudice.