“We wish to cross and find supplies within the delta,” Qurrah said, letting them look into his eyes and see the lack of fear within. “And we will not be stopped.”
“You killed a few of my men,” Tory said. “However, I believe they were acting boorish, so unlike the example I try to set for them. For that I apologize.”
“Accepted,” Qurrah said. “Now will you let us pass?”
“No, not yet,” Tory said, pacing between the lions. “See, I heard some crazy stories about a girl made of fire killing my men. Now I don’t see any fire, but what we see is hardly what we get, is it?” He gestured to Tessanna. “Are you more dangerous than what you appear?”
“I’ve killed more than you,” she said, her voice meek and shy. “Ten times more. Does that make me dangerous?”
Tory laughed, but Qurrah detected a bit of nervousness. The other men were getting antsy. They had gotten a good look at Tessanna’s eyes and they wanted no part of her.
“That’s what I thought,” Tory said. “Such a beautiful thing, too. Are you both in such a hurry that you cannot stay with us in our friendly town? Riverend may not be the largest of places, or the most civilized, but the ale and food are excellent.” He looked at Tessanna, a charming smile on his face. “Surely we could become better acquainted.”
Jealousy flared within Qurrah.
“How dare you…”
“We could,” Tessanna said, offering him a flirty smile back. “But as I told your dead men, you’d die the moment you touched my flesh.”
The charming smile faltered.
“So be it,” he said. He snapped his fingers. The men around him reached back and pulled out loaded crossbows from behind the lion statues. Qurrah tensed, his knuckles white.
“No one insults me,” Tory said, the dagger in his hand twirling so fast it was a metallic blur. “No one.”
Before the men could fire, Qurrah tossed the bones into the air. Dark power flowed from his hands, giving them life. The pieces hovered in a small circle, shining a phantom gray.
“You cannot win this,” Qurrah said, his fingers outstretched. “Put down the bows and I will let you live.”
“They’re scared,” Tessanna said. Her hands remained at her side, and she appeared bored of the situation. “They’re scared so they threaten.”
“Then let’s remove their ability to threaten,” Qurrah whispered. He formed a fist, igniting the power of the bones. The shards flew through the air, aimed straight for the crossbows. They punched holes in the wood, broke the fingers that held them, and snapped the strings. A couple fired, but the shots were erratic. Qurrah opened his hand once more. Half of the bone pieces returned, hovering before his face.
“Do you think your swords will kill me?” he asked. “Do you think you will get close enough to try?”
A few men grabbed their daggers but Tory waved them off.
“You may cross,” the man said. “You are the stronger, without question.” He gave one last longing look at Tessanna. “A shame, too.”
The group of men parted, granting the couple passage.
“The western bridge is not far,” Tory said as they passed. “My men will let you through without hassle. Try not to keep them waiting.”
Qurrah grabbed Tessanna’s arm and walked across the bridge, silent.
“We’re not going to the other bridge,” Tessanna said once they were beyond earshot. “And we’re not going just because he said he wanted us to. You’re such a child.”
“We need supplies,” Qurrah said.
“Keep telling yourself that,” she said, kissing him once on the cheek. “But you won’t be fooling me.”
“I’d never try to,” he said, glancing back at Tory. “But I think I might kill him the next time we meet.”
“Try to make it painful,” Tessanna said, her tiny mouth grinning. “All he could think about was raping me the entire time we talked.”
Tory couldn’t decide why, but the horrific laughter he heard from the two as they left the bridge formed a knot deep in his gut, one that would take many drinks to loosen.
3
Riverend was a quaint little town, at least to Tessanna’s standards. It thrived off the crops it harvested from the fertile land that stretched for miles in all directions. But many travelers crossing between the two countries also stopped to rest and purchase supplies, and coin from all nations was welcome. The two passed a couple of stores, vague places that offered a few odds and ends, blankets, and waterskins. Tessanna’s beauty and Qurrah’s robes gained them immediate attention, though no one dared approach. Most just gawked from afar.
“We have a problem,” Qurrah said as they stopped before the town’s sole tavern. It was one floor with a rain-damaged roof and no windows. Beside the door hung a wooden sign with a crudely drawn mug overflowing at the top.
“I have many problems,” Tessanna said, her hands curled around his elbow as she ignored the curious stares. “But what is yours?”
“We have no coin and no items to barter with. We need food, water, and something for your feet. What exactly are we to offer?” Tessanna gave him a dirty smile, and immediately Qurrah’s face flushed. “We are not offering you, no matter how much it would gain us.” He looked back to the tavern. “If we rest for a night, and then take what we want from their stores, none here could stop us.”
“And if they try?” Tessanna asked. Qurrah shrugged, earning himself a glare and a jab from her elbow. “If you won’t let me sleep with some lonely farmer for our supplies, I am most certainly not letting you kill for them.”
“Then what else do we do?”
The girl tugged on his arm.
“For now, we go and get a drink.”
Inside, the dirt floor was tightly packed and trodden upon. Two tables filled the right half of the room, while the left was made of a tiny bar with several carved stools. There was no one inside.
“Evidently drinking is not as popular here as elsewhere,” Qurrah murmured.
“Oh it is,” said a man coming up behind them, wiping his dirt-covered hands on his trousers. He slipped past them and went behind the bar. “It’s just all the drinkers here are also hard workers, and if you haven’t noticed yet, the sun isn’t even halfway through the sky.”
Qurrah smiled at the man and the man smiled back. He was far older than Qurrah and his face was gruff, but he seemed rather amused by his early customers. His hair was tied behind his head in a bushy gray ponytail. When he smiled, it seemed to pull his entire face to the sides, and his bushy unibrow actually separated.
“I have noticed, but neither of us are hard workers. Might we have a drink?”
“Sure thing. Take a seat.” The man took out two wooden cups and filled them underneath the counter from a container they could not see. He set them down in front of them at their table. “My name is Erik. Enjoy.”
“Before we drink,” Qurrah said, pointing to the cups. “I must say that we have no coin to pay for these. I still would very much like a drink, and I would also like to pay you.”
“Isn’t that how the world always works,” Erik said, waving them off. “You can have the first drink free. Consider it a welcome to our town. I’m afraid the rest of the town won’t be so friendly to your problem, though.” He plopped down at a seat behind the bar. “Not unless you’re ready to work for a few coins, but neither of you looks like the sort to bend your backs in the sun. Those robes. You a priest?”
“No,” Qurrah said, sipping from the cup. He felt the burning liquid on his tongue, fiercely bitter. He swallowed as quickly as possible. “Just a traveler.”
Tessanna dipped her finger into the drink and then put it in her mouth, sucking off the liquid.
“Just travelers,” Erik said, watching Tessanna. “You didn’t arrive here just last night, did you?” When neither answered, the old man nodded. “See, last night I heard a bunch of ruckus while I was sleeping.” He pointed at the floor behind the bar. “That is where my old bones rest, and th
at is where I woke up to two scared hogs begging for a drink.”
Qurrah took another sip as the old man leaned closer.
“They told me the craziest story about this girl of pure fire, beautiful as a goddess and as dangerous as a snake. Said she just started burning, and then killed one of their friends. Now I hope I don’t imply an insult, fair lady, but you do look as beautiful as a goddess.”
“I’m not poisonous,” Tessanna said, her finger pressed against her teeth as she grinned. “But I do burn people.”
“Why do you tell us this?” Qurrah asked.
“Because a girl like that, well, she could do a lot of things that people here might appreciate. Might even reward them for doing these things.”
Qurrah finished his drink and slid Erik the cup.
“What things?”
“Which bridge did you cross?”
“The eastern,” Qurrah replied. “We’ve come from Neldar. We traveled through Omn too quickly to supply ourselves adequately before we reached the delta.”
The barkeep nodded. It was a story he heard often. Most desperate travelers had run afoul with the law at some point in either Neldar or Omn and thought to start a new life in the west.
“Did you meet Tory when you tried to cross the eastern bridge?” he asked. When they both nodded, he continued. “He moved in here with a group of thugs from Mordeina. Started charging a toll to whoever crossed the bridges. If anyone was well armed he’d just let them go by; he was smart like that. Thing is, he started getting more and more money, and he’s acquired a healthy collection of all things drunkards love up in his little shack north of town. Got to the point where even those with bodyguards had to start paying his toll…and the tolls themselves got much higher.”
Erik walked around the bar and to the door. He glanced outside to ensure no one was nearby. When satisfied, he turned around and approached their table.
“We’re neutral territory. With the stigma of the war hundreds of years ago, no country will touch us. Tory’s started taking whatever he wants from the towns in the delta, and it’s not just food.” He looked pointedly at Tessanna. “He wanted you, didn’t he?”
She nodded.
“I could tell,” she said. “I always can.”
“You’re older than he’d prefer,” Erik said. Qurrah watched as the old man’s hands gripped the table to stop their shaking. “But you’re beauty was enough to sway his tastes. We’ve sent our daughters south to Haven, but not always in time. And he’s begun to go there now…”
Erik had made this offer many times before to travelers passing through his little town. Never once had he seen such rage as he saw in Tessanna’s eyes.
“Little pissfire comes here with men and weapons and thinks he can take what he wants,” she said, her eyes staring into nowhere. “Do the girls live after he is done?”
“He keeps them,” Erik said. He gripped the table harder. A few tears trickled down his cheek. He was too old and tired to hold them all in. “Keeps them until they’re all used up. My granddaughter, she…” He turned and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “She was never the same. She threw herself into the river one night. Said she was certain Tory would come for her again, and she couldn’t do it. She’d rather die.”
Tessanna stood. Her hands took the old man’s and pulled them from the table. She gently kissed his shaking fingers.
“I’ll drown them,” she said. “In their own blood. I promise.”
“He’ll still be at the bridges,” Erik said. “If he’s not, return and I will lead you to his hovel.”
“We need food, water, warmer clothes, and shoes for Tessanna’s feet,” Qurrah said. “Have it ready when we return.”
The old man nodded.
“Go with Ashhur’s blessing.”
To this, Qurrah smirked. “We come bearing death. Ashhur will grant us no blessing.”
Should we wait until nightfall?” Qurrah asked as they headed into the lush fields north of town that were in various states of final harvest before winter. Tessanna shook her head. Her lips were thin and pulled tight against her teeth. It was rare for her to be so angry, but the abuse of such young girls appeared to be one of the things that could pierce her apathy.
“I won’t give him a chance to take another,” she answered. “He might have a girl waiting for him, just waiting like a little gift when he returns with his men. I won’t let him. I won’t.”
It took only an hour before the bridge grew within sight. The small gray shapes of Tory’s minions littered the construction. They must have spotted them, for at once they rushed across the bridge and lined the near side.
“They fear us, don’t they?” Tessanna asked.
“They are right to,” Qurrah said.
“They’re not afraid enough. Not yet.”
Tessanna did not slow as she neared. Seven men remained of the original twelve that greeted them earlier. Tory did not appear to be one of them. As the guards leered and made their crude comments, Tessanna grabbed the nearest ruffian by the throat and shrieked. The force of her yell knocked them to the ground, all but the one she held. His flesh turned gray, his hair shriveled white, and the cartilage of his nose and ears curled inward to the bone. On and on her shriek continued, a horrific wail of death. The flesh peeled off his skull and his teeth cracked free from their gums.
She let him go. He fell to the ground looking freshly dug from the grave twenty years after his death.
“Where is Tory?” she asked the others as they lay stunned. None answered, for they could not hear through the ringing in their ears. She grabbed the shirt of another man and pushed. Magical energy slammed against his chest, tumbling him off the bridge and into the water below.
“Where is he?” she screamed.
“West,” one said. He was curled against one of the arches that lined the side of the bridge. His hands were pressed against his ears. Blood covered them. “If you’re looking for Tory, he went west, to the other bridge. We haven’t done anything, we swear!”
Tessanna stared into his eyes, the black orbs peering into his soul.
“Did you ever take one to be your own?” she asked in a voice so calm and soft it seemed impossible to have been the same voice shrieking louder than thunder.
As the man stared back, he felt claws within his mind, feasting on his thoughts like a ravenous being. Through it all, a single question pulsed like a heartbeat, and he knew what it was she asked.
“No,” he said. “It just wasn’t…no.”
Tessanna released him and turned to her lover.
“Let’s go,” she said.
“Do we let them live?” Qurrah asked, pointing to the men that were slowly getting to their feet.
“Only the one with the bloody ears. The others forfeited their lives long ago.”
Qurrah opened his pouch of bones. The men saw this and fled, racing across the bridge like scared children. Only the one remained, perched against the side with his eyes still locked on Tessanna. He watched, mesmerized, as bones flew past his face and into the necks and skulls of his comrades.
When Qurrah turned around, he saw a swirling black portal hovering above the ground. Tessanna stood before it, her eyes shimmering purple.
“There are shadows in the trees,” she said. “Enter.”
He did as he was told. She followed him in. The portal closed behind them, leaving only the stunned survivor to flee back to Riverend, deaf but alive.
They stepped out underneath a great canopy of trees. All around Qurrah saw sturdy brown trunks. Tessanna grabbed his hand and together they weaved through the trunks and brush that scratched at their legs and tore their clothes. The light grew brighter, the trees grew thinner, and then they exited the forest directly east of Ashhur’s bridge.
It looked similar to Karak’s, but instead of three arches on the bottom it had five, and the upper side were formed into a single, triangular mountain. Giant stone soldiers flanked the entrances to the bridge, wielding a sword in one h
and and an hourglass in the other. Standing between these two statues was Tory, surrounded by ten of his men.
“He is deadly with knives,” Qurrah said, glancing at his lover. “I would hate to see you cut, so be careful.”
“You see me cut all the time,” Tessanna replied. She started walking toward the bridge. Qurrah took out his whip and followed.
“You took longer than I expected,” Tory shouted as they approached. He seemed jovial at sight of them, clearly unaware of what had transpired at the eastern bridge. Qurrah uncoiled the whip from his arm and let it burst into flame. Tessanna held her arms at an angle from her sides, magic pooling about her fingertips. All white left her eyes as ethereal black wings stretched from her back. Tory took a startled step backward, placing bodies between them.
“I said you can pass,” he shouted. “There’s no need to fight.”
“I know what it is you need,” Tessanna said. Her voice pulsed and changed with each syllable. Coupled with her wings, she seemed an otherworldly demon, furious and beautiful. None had the strength to face her. Tory’s men turned and fled.
“Wait!” he screamed. Flaming leather snaked in around his ankle. He screamed as the fire bit in deep. He screamed again as Tessanna hooked her fingers toward his men and hissed in a language he had never heard before. Screams of the others joined his own. His paid lackeys fell where they stood, covering the bridge with blood that poured out their eyes, mouths, and nostrils.
The whip left his leg. The skin there was black and blistering, and pain flared throughout the right side of his body. Desperate, he drew his dagger and hurled it at the girl with black wings. She never moved. His aim was poor, and instead of piercing her throat, it stabbed into her left breast. Blood poured across her dress, staining the brown fabric a deep red. Qurrah snarled in anger, but the girl reached out her hand to calm him. She showed no sign of pain, no sign of injury. Just anger.
“You could have lived,” she said, pulling out the dagger and dropping it. She passed by the two statues, gently touching one as she stepped onto the bridge. “People take what they can when they are the stronger. Every city, every land, even in nature, this is done. But you took what never should be yours to take. You took what I cannot forgive.”
The Half-Orcs: Books 1-5 Page 61
