The Shadows of Grace h-4

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The Shadows of Grace h-4 Page 9

by David Dalglish


  “What I’d give to have my swords back,” he muttered as he collapsed atop the bed. He shifted about and grunted. “Huh. At least the bed’s comfy. What is in here, anyway? Goose feathers?”

  Aurelia lay down beside him and covered her eyes with her wrist.

  “This is all a waste of time,” she said. “The last thing we need is the few troops here slaughtering each other. When the orcs do arrive, they’ll find the land ripe for the taking.”

  “We hurt the orcs pretty bad at Veldaren,” Harruq said. He wrapped his arms around his wife and held her close. “If Lord Sully’s seen orcs moving back and forth, it means they’re trying to get back to the Vile Wedge. They don’t have the numbers to siege any castles. However; if it was Velixar got them into Neldar, I doubt it was over a bridge.”

  “A bridge!” Aurelia said, bolting upward.

  The door opened, and in stepped Haern. He, too, had changed back to his normal attire.

  “Did I startle you?” Haern asked as he shut the door.

  “The orcs will need far greater numbers if they’re to take either Felwood or the Green Castle,” Aurelia said. “What if they’re trying to build a bridge across the Bone Ditch? That’s the only real way for them to get reinforcements. It’d take months for them to go south and over the Rigon River, then loop all the way back north.”

  “Bridges tend to burn easily,” Haern said, grinning at Aurelia. “Think you can make us some fire?”

  Aurelia winked.

  “Let me get out of this dress,” she said. “For now, let’s enjoy the beds we have and leave tomorrow morning.”

  “Richard won’t be happy,” Harruq warned.

  “Since when did you care about pissing off others?” Haern asked.

  Harruq shrugged.

  “Just saying is all. But I prefer to have my swords with me when I piss someone off.”

  Haern laughed and left the room.

  “They won’t dare detain us if I demand our leave,” Aurelia said as she removed the elegant dress and laid it out across the bed. “Now stop staring and help me with the laces.”

  Harruq helped tie the back, then kissed her neck when she was done.

  “Least we get something useful out of you being an elf,” he said.

  She turned around and kissed his lips.

  “Don’t worry about what Lord Sully said. About orc blood.”

  Harruq laughed.

  “Trust me. I’ve been insulted far worse, and that’s just from Tarlak. I’ll be fine. But after good food, good wine, and needless argument, I’m aching for a bed. Tomorrow we can worry about bashing in some orc heads.”

  T he next morning, Harruq awoke with a throbbing headache.

  “Ugh,” he said, rolling over and mashing his head between pillows. “What’d they put in that wine, gut rot?”

  He splayed out across the bed, then realized he had far too much room. Poking an eye open, he glanced about.

  “Aurry?” he asked.

  Their quarters were empty. Harruq startled out of bed, flailing drunkenly against the multitude of bed sheets.

  “Aurry!” he shouted.

  He was halfway finished buckling on his armor when a blue portal ripped open above their bed. Giggling like a young maiden, Aurelia fell straight down atop the mattress, bounced once, and then vanished in a massive tangle of sheets.

  “Where the Abyss have you been?” Harruq asked as the portal closed.

  In answer, Aurelia lifted one arm free and showed him his two swords. Harruq grinned.

  “That’s my girl,” he said.

  “Lord Sully’s forbidden us from leaving until his army marches for the chipped fields,” she said, freeing her face from the sheets.

  “Where’s that?” Harruq asked as he reattached the swords to his belt.

  “About ten miles southwest,” Aurelia said. “We flew over them on our way here. Really flat hills, with ground too rocky for farming. Evidently Sir Kull has camped there, and Richard hopes to have his battle before the sun sets.”

  “I take it he doesn’t want us warning the renegade knight?”

  Aurelia sat on the edge of the bed, her bare feet dangling.

  “That appears to be the idea. They’ve got Seleven locked in their stables with three guards, along with yours and Haern’s weapons.”

  “You get Haern’s sabers?” Harruq asked.

  Aurelia snickered.

  “Haern got them last night while we slept. You should have known he would.”

  The half-orc bit his lip, then shrugged. Yeah, he probably should have.

  “I take it our kindly Lord doesn’t realize you have certain magical abilities?” he asked.

  “Nor does he know trying to keep Haern locked up is like trying to imprison a shadow. When I left Lord Sully, I pretended to be heading back here but…” She grinned.

  “Let me guess,” Harruq said. “You made yourself invisible, snagged my weapons, freed Seleven, and then magically escaped your elven butt here to brag about it.”

  She kissed his nose.

  “Exactly. You ready to go?”

  “Any chance I can eat first?”

  Her eye roll was answer enough.

  The door cracked open, and neither were surprised when Haern slipped inside.

  “Their army numbers near five hundred,” the assassin said as he shut the door behind him. “Two hundred ride horses. They could do wonderful damage to some orcs if they found them on open fields, but I doubt they’d stand a chance against the legions of dead.”

  “Or a winged army,” Harruq muttered.

  Aurelia walked over to the window and pushed aside a thin white curtain. Outside she saw the gathering forces moving about the courtyard, carrying supplies, sharpening weapons and saddling up horses.

  “As long as the threat here is just rumors and dreams, they won’t react,” she said. “We need to convince them of their danger. This isn’t some threat of a new conqueror or a change of ruling Lords. Your brother will destroy everything here, everything. We’ll live in a world of ash and bones.”

  “Not Qurrah,” said Harruq. “Velixar.”

  The elf sadly shook her head.

  “They’re more similar than you’d prefer, Harruq. Their reasons might be different, but what they’ll achieve together is the same. Their threat may be far away, but the orcs are near. Perhaps we can twist this conflict to everyone’s best interest…”

  “How?” asked Haern. “Think the orcs will send an envoy of their own? Their form of politics involves hammers and really loud shouting.”

  “No,” Aurelia said, spinning about. “I mean by doing exactly what Lord Sully worries we might. Let’s go. Seleven should be waiting just outside the city walls.”

  A twirl of her hands, and a portal opened up before them. Aurelia stepped inside, a strange hardness overtaking her features. Before Harruq could step in to follow, Haern grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.

  “Stop defending your brother,” Haern told him.

  “But he’s not…”

  “No,” Haern insisted. “Look at me and listen. Aullienna was her child, perhaps the only child she’ll ever have in this brutal life we have left. No matter the reasons, no matter who else might share the blame, Qurrah still took Aullienna away from us. Let Aurelia hate him. Don’t try to deny her that.”

  Harruq pulled his shoulder free.

  “Hatred is not for her,” he said. “And you’re a fool if you think that’s what she needs.”

  He stepped through the portal, almost hoping Haern didn’t follow after.

  Just as Aurelia said, they exited outside the Green Castle’s walls. Seleven waited there, pawing the ground nervously. Aurelia called him over and stroked his neck.

  “Let’s go,” she said, mounting the winged horse. Harruq and Haern shared a glance, but neither said a word to one another. They climbed atop Seleven’s back, and in a great gust of air, soared into the sky amid surprised cries from the nearby guards atop the wall.


  “I assume we’re going toward that knight?” Harruq asked, needing to shout to be heard.

  “That’s right,” Aurelia shouted back.

  They flew southwest, the land a lifeless image below them. They said little to one another as the hour passed. The hills smoothed out, spreading wider. Several patches were so thick, and the grass so thin, that they seemed brown scars atop the landscape. Lines of smoke bloomed in the distance as Sir Kull’s camp neared. A few commands from Aurelia and they banked low, landing at the camp’s outskirts.

  “Don’t expect too warm a welcome,” Haern said as they dismounted.

  Armed men rushed toward them, their swords drawn and their battered shields at ready. Harruq and Haern kept their hands at their sides, while Aurelia approached with her palms upward in a gesture of peace.

  “Halt!” said the first soldier to arrive.

  “We’re here to talk with Sir Harford Kull,” Aurelia said. “The matter is urgent, and I demand an audience.”

  The soldiers glanced at one another, some fearful, some suspecting a trap. The sight of an elf on a winged-horse was strange enough. A cloaked assassin and a burly half-orc only tripled the confusion.

  “Wait here, and keep your blades sheathed,” one of them finally said. “I’ll see if Harford will come.”

  “Be nice to arrive somewhere without having people ready to kill me,” Harruq said as they waited.

  More soldiers swarmed about them, maintaining a safe distance between the three. From deep in the camp came a group of eight, with the front two carrying banners of a red bear. Harruq fidgeted nervously as they waited for them to arrive. First King Antonil, now Neyvar Ceredon, Lord Sully, and this Sir Kull person. He was so tired of meeting people with potential power to have him killed. He longed for the simple nights of skulking about Veldaren in search of a troublesome thief or murderer.

  “Presenting the Lord of the Southlock, Sir Kull!” shouted the banner carriers in unison. Sir Kull stepped forward. He was a tall man, his skin dark and his hair darker. His beard hung all the way to his belt, twisted in loops and braids. The knight smiled, but the joy never reached his eyes.

  “A pleasure to meet such an odd group of guests,” he said after a quick bow. “Might I know whom I have the privilege of welcoming?”

  “My name is Aurelia Thyne of Nellassar,” Aurelia said with a curtsey. “This is my husband, Harruq. Beside him is Haern, the King’s Watcher of Veldaren.”

  Sir Kull seemed a bit surprised by the last part.

  “The Watcher?” he asked. “I had heard rumors, but he was supposed to be a ghost made of cinders and coal. Yet I see just a man.”

  Haern chuckled.

  “If pressed, I’ll give you a demonstration, good Sir. You may not enjoy it.”

  Aurelia glared, but Sir Kull only laughed.

  “Indeed, indeed, how foolish of me to make light of such claims. Please, tell me, why have you come to my camp?”

  “Lord Sully has already prepared his army,” Aurelia said, making sure she projected her voice far and wide so the rest of the camp heard. “He marches this morning, and his aim is clear. All your men will be killed.”

  A wave of nervous chatter rolled through the ranks.

  “We expected such a response,” Sir Kull said. “Though perhaps not so soon. Why does this matter concern you?”

  “That is irrelevant,” Haern interrupted. “Lord Sully has two-hundred mounted warriors to fight at his side. I see no stables, no horses within your camp. You are what, three hundred men? You will be trampled underneath their hooves.”

  Sir Kull’s smile faded into his beard.

  “Why have you come?” he asked again, his voice low.

  “To warn you,” Aurelia said. “And to present you with hope. To the northwest are the many hills beside Sully Lake. The rocks and steep slopes will render their horses annoyances, and nothing more.”

  The knight crossed his arms and looked to his trusted retainers at his side.

  “If they have that many men on horses, the chipped hills will be our doom,” one said. “Perhaps we can move northwest while we scout out their strength.”

  “You must hurry,” Aurelia said. “The Green Castle is not far. Time is not your friend.”

  Sir Kull drew his sword and saluted them.

  “I don’t know your reasons, nor if you speak truth. If you do, I owe you greatly. If not…we will meet again.”

  He turned and left, the soldiers returning with him. The three Eschaton remained alone on the outskirts of the camp, watched from afar by a ring of soldiers obviously there to keep an eye on them.

  “So what did we just accomplish?” Harruq asked.

  “The further northwest they move, the closer to the orcs and the Bone Ditch they’ll be,” Aurelia said. “Lord Sully will have to give chase. If we can get them to see the destruction the orcs have spread, perhaps our words will turn from rumors to truth.”

  After giving Seleven a few more minutes to rest and drink from a nearby stream, the three mounted and soared into the air.

  “Where to now?” Harruq asked.

  “We’ll need to slow Lord Sully down to give them time,” Aurelia explained.

  “Awesome,” Harruq said. “Do I finally get to hit something with my swords?”

  “No,” Aurelia shouted.

  Harruq sighed.

  L ord Sully’s knights rode ahead of the main army but not far. The Eschaton watched the process from atop a nearby hill, Aurelia’s keen eyes seeing more than the rest.

  “He’s too cautious,” Haern said. “If he’d abandoned the footmen and rode straight for Kull's camp, they’d overrun them with hardly a sweat. Instead they wait for the slower group of soldiers and lose much of their advantage.”

  “Richard thinks Sir Kull is coming toward him, not away,” Aurelia said. “Now to make sure their travel is far from pleasant.”

  Aurelia closed her eyes and lifted her hands to the heavens.

  “Don’t disturb me,” she said. “And stay back. There might be a bit more lightning than I expect.”

  Harruq and Haern shared a look and retreated to the bottom of the hill. High above Aurelia, the dim gray coiling of clouds slowly turned. A great wind howled from the east, bursting with sudden life. White light shone from Aurelia’s fingertips, then spread to her palms. The wind swirled around her, teasing her dress and lifting her hair. The clouds grumbled angrily, deepening to an ugly black.

  Thunder roared. In the deep cold, the sound was ominous and unwelcome. The minutes passed, the wind quickened, and soon the sky was a dark curtain. With slow, careful motions, Aurelia pointed her fingers west. Magic flared out of her. The clouds rolled with the wind, lightning crackling in their center. The heavens rumbled, and freezing rain began to fall. It covered the grass, taking only seconds before turning to ice. Harruq crossed his arms and shivered, glad they’d been spared the brunt of the weather. When the rain reached the troops, Aurelia slowly relaxed and let her hands fall to her sides. Harruq trudged up the hill toward her, Haern trailing.

  “They’ll find the going miserable in the cold and ice,” Aurelia said. “The rain will follow them for only an hour, but they’ll need to build fires to banish the chill, as well as remove the ice from their armor and supplies.”

  She tottered a little, but Harruq caught her in his arms. The elf pressed her fingers to her temples and patiently breathed in and out.

  “You going to be all right?” he asked her.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Just get us into the air. We’ll find someplace further away to rest, then figure out just what Sir Kull will run into when he flees north.”

  Harruq helped her atop Seleven, then sat behind her. Haern curled his cloaks about himself and leaped atop the horse’s back.

  “Be glad when this damn winter is over,” he muttered.

  They flew low to the ground, following the flat spaces between the hills, which Aurelia felt a likely guide for Sir Kull’s movements. As they tra
velled north, the hint of smoke lined the horizon.

  “An army?” Harruq asked.

  Aurelia shook her head, her face grim.

  “I fear worse,” she said, though she didn’t explain what.

  Seleven beat his mighty wings, and toward the smoke they flew. A heavy knot was twisting in Harruq’s stomach as the hills rolled past. They saw no army, but instead the remains of a large village. Without a word, they landed on the outskirts, dismounted, and surveyed the wreckage.

  “They burned everything,” Haern said, shaking his head. “Just… everything.”

  Over a hundred homes lay crumpled, broken boards and smoldering ash all that remained. The odor of smoke and blood hung in the air as Harruq wandered toward the village center, his hands trembling. Flies swarmed about, blanketing pools of blood and entrails that lay scattered about the streets. Despite the carnage, he saw no bodies.

  “Where are they?” he asked. “Where are the dead?”

  “Here,” Haern shouted. Harruq followed his voice. On the other side of the village was a giant pit, and Harruq nearly vomited at the sight. Thousands of bones were piled within. An army of crows hopped among them, feasting. When Aurelia saw it, she immediately turned away and covered her mouth.

  “What happened?” Harruq asked, dreading the answer. He felt distant memories crushing in upon him.

  “Man-flesh,” Aurelia said, her face pale. “They butchered everything, Harruq. The goats, the pigs, the cows… and the rest.”

  Harruq turned and fled. His swords were in his hands, yet he never remembered drawing them. He struck broken boards and nearly collapsed walls. Gray sky hung above him, but in his mind it was filled with stars. The village was empty, but in his mind it was full of fleeing men and women. This village had no name he knew, but the one of memory was called Cornrows. In years past, while still serving Velixar, he and Qurrah had destroyed the entire village, leaving not a single survivor.

  Harruq stumbled over a broken sword and fell to one knee. He knelt there, his vision blurred. Aurelia called out to him, but he didn’t hear. He didn’t want to hear. The weight of a hundred murders crushed his shoulders and choked the breath from his lungs. Harruq dropped his swords. Amid his red vision he found a cornhusk doll, half of it burned away. When he picked it up, he felt tears well in his eyes.

 

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