A Legacy of Blood

by Megg Jensen

  "Yes, my queen, I do."

  "Very good. Now, let's see to the sick."

  Their voices faded as they moved away.

  So—she wanted something from him. Frustration spread in Vron's chest. If only she had asked, he would have considered her request. There was no need to hold him prisoner. He was an honorable orc—she had said so herself. An orc who held to his word.

  Yet she’d asked nothing of him. What could he possibly bring her later that he couldn’t bring her now? He would wait them out, and at the first chance of escape, he would take it.

  Chapter 19

  Nemia kept her lips pressed together as she and Azlinar made their way back to her home in the mines. The decrepit old orc shuffled behind her, his gnarled wooden cane tapping the ground.

  As a baby, Nemia had been kept from sick people. Her parents had brought in powerful shamans to cast spells of protection over her. They wanted to be sure she would survive. After all, as their only child, she was the future of Agitar.

  At least, that's how it should have been. But when her birthmark continued to grow, instead of fading or shrinking, her life had taken a much different turn. Her parents had chosen Sabniss, a child of miners, to stand in for her as the princess. After that, the shamans began to visit Sabniss instead. The new princess. The false princess. The one Nemia was eventually forced to kill.

  Now all three of them were gone. Sabniss was dead thanks to Nemia's uncontrollable magic. Azlinar had promised he would help her learn to control her rage and the magic that spilled forth from it, but so far nothing worked. Then Nemia's father had abdicated and gone missing, and her mother had been… handled.

  Nemia was now the rightful ruler of Agitar. But few orcs alive knew—and the rest would never believe it. There was no proof.

  Which meant she would have to take the crown by force. And she had the perfect weapon hidden in these mines.

  Nemia crossed the threshold into her home, an expansive cavern that had been dug out long ago by their orc ancestors even before the miners had moved underground. It had gone on to become the main gathering area for the miners, a place where they ate and relaxed. But now the mining had stopped, and the miners themselves were decimated.

  First there was the xarlug, emerging from underground, disturbing their tunnels. After its arrival, the miners were too scared to venture deeper into the warren of tunnels they'd excavated. They feared collapse—and whatever else might be waiting down there for them.

  Then the infection took hold. Miners began dropping like canaries. Within days, hundreds were dead, and hundreds more sick. Nemia took them in, cared for them, did as much as she could to help.

  And finally, the orcs aboveground began to close the mine entrances. It was only then that Nemia felt her anger overtake her.

  Once again, she was being abandoned. First by her parents. Then by Tace and Ademar. Now, by all the orcs aboveground. No one wanted her. No one needed her.

  She would show them the error of their ways.

  With Azlinar's help, Nemia had created a weapon—a cure to the infection. It wouldn't be long before they would bargain with her for the throne. What orc wouldn’t, knowing she could save all of them with the cure? They would give her the throne, and anything else she asked for.

  She sank into a chair and rested her head on the plush back.

  "Are you pleased with what our orcs have brought us?" Azlinar asked, walking around the room, an arm outstretched.

  Nemia surveyed the most recent haul. She was sitting on her mother's throne, but that wasn't all they'd brought from the castle. Mountains of gold were piled in every corner, along with diamond-crusted plates, bowls, and cutlery. Tapestries that used to hang in hallowed halls now adorned her underground kingdom.

  The orcs above thought they knew every way into the mines. They knew nothing. More than any other orc, Nemia knew the secret ways from the mines into the royal chambers. She had told her minions exactly where to go and what to steal. Soon they learned what was valuable and brought items to her without being asked. They now freely roamed the castle, abandoned by the aboveground orcs after the arrival of the xarlug. The interior of the castle was unreachable from the outside, having been covered in fallen stone during the xarlug's rampage. But Nemia knew ways to get in. Better ways. Darker ways. She would reclaim what was hers.

  Azlinar pulled some herbs from his cloak's pocket and lit them on the nearby pyre. Nemia took deep breaths from the herbs' smoke, letting their protective powers deep into her lungs. So far, Azlinar had kept his promise to keep her safe.

  He was the only orc who had never lied to her. He had protected her from the disease. He had shown her a way to reclaim the crown. And one day, soon, she would rule as she'd been born to do.

  "Tell me about the dark mage you foresaw on the day of the xarlug's destruction," Nemia said when the herbs had burnt out. "Is he coming?"

  Azlinar nodded. "I have foreseen it. His presence gets closer with each passing day. He is drawn to you and your power. Once he arrives in Agitar, we will speak with him."

  "How will you keep him safe from the infection?"

  Azlinar gazed into Nemia's eyes. The black depths of his irises mesmerized her, and a strange, floating feeling washed over her. She felt calm, relaxed. It was something she so rarely experienced. Her entire life had been filled with one stressor after another.

  "Nemia," a weak voice called from the far end of the room.

  Nemia sat forward in her chair. She turned lazily toward the back of the room, where her mother was restrained by manacles connected by chains to the wall.

  "Yes, Mother?" Nemia said, still dazed.

  "Please let me go. Please. Your father… where is he?"

  "Don't mention him," Nemia snapped. "He hated me. He treated you like chattel. We won't speak of him again. Azlinar, take some herbs to her. Help her to relax."

  Azlinar stood on wobbly legs. As he made his way to her mother's side, he pulled another wad of herbs from his cloak.

  "No," Nemia's mother begged. "Not again. I can't lose control of my thoughts. Nemia, don't you know what he's doing to you? Nemia!" Her cries grew softer as the scent of the herbs filled the room again.

  "I know exactly what Azlinar is doing to me," Nemia said to herself in a singsong voice. "He's caring for me, like you never did. And soon, everything that was promised to me at birth will be mine again."

  Chapter 20

  Alyna bent over, weary from the long walk with Hilthe back to Agitar. The two of them had taken turns riding Syra, as well as giving the unicorn plenty of time to walk unencumbered. All three were exhausted, but eager to reach the orcs. It was perhaps the slowest journey Alyna had ever undertaken—but finally, the ruined city of Agitar was visible in the distance.

  She put a hand on Hilthe's arm. "Let me lead the way. They aren't thrilled with humans right now."

  "Your suggestion is a good one," Hilthe agreed, wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. "I lived among these orcs for a few years, and trust me, I don't want to anger them. Hopefully, I can connect eventually with some of the orcs I knew here before Hugh's death. They can vouch for me."

  "I can, too. They'll listen to me." Alyna laughed. "At least they should by now. I don't let them treat me like I'm any less than them. So far, it's worked."

  "You're a commanding presence, even when you're on death's door. I'm glad I was able to keep you from crossing to the other side."

  "So am I." Alyna glanced at Hilthe's bag. She was still stunned that the small items in there had such great healing power. "I didn't even know I was ill until it was too late to help myself. I simply felt run-down. And the goddess knows I needed a break. If I'd known I was sick, I wouldn't have crept off to a grove. I would have stayed here."

  "It's a good thing you did leave. Otherwise, you'd probably be dead now." Hilthe didn't mince words. Alyna liked that about her.

  "Thank you. Again."

  Alyna knew she could never express her gratitud
e enough. With as sick as she had been, she doubted even Syra could have kept her from death this time. The unicorn had great powers, but they were limited.

  "Their camp is over that ridge." Alyna pointed to the north, and she couldn't help but notice her finger trembling. She feared what lay ahead. More illness? She couldn't have been the only one affected. Would the few relics of Hugh's they'd brought be enough?

  When the two women reached the top of the hill, Alyna shielded her eyes from the midday sun and looked down at the orc encampment. Nothing seemed different than when she'd left. With a deep sigh of relief, she began to trudge down the other side.

  As they neared the encampment, a sentry whistled, and two orc guards, a female and male, came running toward them. "Identify yourself!"

  Alyna hadn't expected this reception. "I'm Alyna."

  "I know who you are." The female guard eyed Hilthe. "Who are you, human?"

  "She's with me," Alyna said quickly.

  "The human can speak for herself," the male guard said, his suspicious eyes on Hilthe.

  "I am Hilthe, a friend to orcs. I lived here before the great rend opened." Then Hilthe spoke a string of orcish words so fast even Alyna had trouble catching the meaning.

  The male orc guffawed. "No ordinary human could tell that naughty jape so well. Come along, both of you."

  The two guards flanked the women as they wound through the encampment toward Dalgron's tent. Syra trotted behind.

  "Alyna! You're back." Dalgron's stride was tentative as he moved toward her. It was very unlike him—he was one of the most confident orcs Alyna had ever known.

  "What's wrong?" she asked.

  Dalgron shot an angry look at the guards. "What did you tell her?"

  "Nothing, sir," the female said.

  "They didn't have to," said Alyna. "I can tell something's wrong, and I suspect you're going to tell me sooner rather than later. Let these two get back to their posts so we can have a frank discussion."

  "I trust it's acceptable to take the unicorn to the stables?" Dalgron asked.

  "Syra goes where she pleases." Alyna laughed and patted Syra on the head. "Take care of yourself. I'll be back soon enough."

  Dalgron waved the two guards away with a flick of his wrist. Holding back the curtain at the entrance to his tent, he motioned the two women inside.

  Alyna stepped through first, followed by Hilthe and Dalgron, who dropped the curtain behind him.

  Alyna blinked a few times, getting used to the low light of the torches. "Will you tell me now what's going on?" she demanded.

  "It's Vron," Dalgron said.

  Alyna felt her stomach drop. "What's wrong with him? Is he ill? If he is, I can help him." She put an arm around Hilthe's shoulder. "It turns out I was sick when I left. Hilthe saved me. She can save Vron. Where is he? In our tent?"

  "He's… gone," Dalgron said, refusing to meet her eyes.

  "Gone? What do you mean, gone? Did he leave on a mission?"

  Alyna tried not to panic. Vron could take care of himself. But there was something in Dalgron's tone, something that told her it wasn't that simple.

  Dalgron sank into his chair. "We discovered a disease of some sort in the mines. Orcs were dying by the handful. Since the xarlug destroyed the city and we have so few resources, we made the hard decision to close the entrances to the mines—to seal the disease inside."

  Hilthe crossed her arms over her chest. "You sentenced all of those orcs to death? How cruel can you be?"

  "What could we do?" Dalgron slammed his fists on the armrests. "We have no means to heal them. Letting them come aboveground would only doom us. The xarlug couldn't kill all of us, but this infection easily could. It may already be too late—two of my orcs have fallen ill. They are isolated instances, but still, I worry."

  "How long ago was this?" Hilthe asked, setting her pack on the floor.

  "Days. I don't know. I haven't slept well since. My guilt overwhelms me."

  Alyna was barely listening. "Vron," she said. "What does any of this have to do with Vron?"

  Dalgron's eyes darted back to the floor. "He was in charge of sealing the mines. I told him not to go inside, but he wouldn't listen. That bleeding heart of his got him in trouble. This isn't my fault!"

  "I don't care whose fault it is." Alyna attempted to steady her voice. Dalgron wouldn't respond to irrational anger. "Tell me what happened."

  Dalgron sighed. "Vron went into the tunnels to check for healthy orcs. But he disappeared. He simply didn't come back. I… I had no choice…"

  "You—you sealed him inside, didn't you?"

  Dalgron nodded silently, still not meeting her eyes.

  Alyna was horrified. For the moment she was speechless.

  Hilthe filled the uncomfortable silence. "Well, I do have a cure here," she said, rummaging through her pack. "But I only have enough for a few. The rest of the relics are back in the cave. If we're going to save your friend and the other orcs trapped underground—thanks to this idiotic decision of yours—we'll need a lot more. I simply don't have enough."

  "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Alyna shuddered thinking of what the woman would do to Hugh's body to obtain enough healing relics.

  Hilthe rested a hand on Alyna's arm. "He would want this. He dedicated his life to helping the orcs."

  Alyna spoke firmly to Dalgron. "Hilthe needs four strong orcs, a draft horse, and a litter. Immediately."

  "You truly have a cure for this?" Dalgron asked. "How do you know?"

  "Because I almost died from it, and Hilthe saved me," Alyna said. "When I left camp, I was very ill."

  "Then you shall have all you require." Dalgron bowed to Hilthe. He stuck his head between the curtains, called for a soldier, and ordered him to take Hilthe with him and give her whatever she requested.

  Alyna hugged the human woman quickly. "Thank you. You are a gem."

  Hilthe laughed. "I served Hugh when he was alive, and I continue to serve him. This is my calling. I'll be back as quickly as I can." She slipped out of the tent.

  The minute the flap had closed behind her, Alyna spun on Dalgron. "Take me to this tunnel entrance now. I am going after Vron."

  "Alyna—it could mean death."

  "Vron would do the same for me. He has done the same for me. I won't leave him now when he needs me." Alyna thought of how Vron had left behind his brigade of orcs at the Barrier Pass. A day later, they'd all been slaughtered by the human army. He'd risked everything for her. The least she could do was repay the favor.

  "Very well then," Dalgron said. "We'll go into the tunnel."

  "We?" Alyna raised an eyebrow.

  "This is my fault," Dalgron said. "I intend to make it right."

  Chapter 21

  Dalgron trudged to the most recently sealed mine entrance with Alyna walking next to him. Her unicorn, Syra, followed behind them. Dalgron liked the faun, despite her initial attempt to fool him into thinking she was a human. He believed in honor, and that first act had told him she lacked honor. But she had proven herself loyal. He hoped she remained that way.

  Her concern for Vron both comforted and annoyed him. He was glad someone cared for the orc who was, quite possibly, his best warrior. At the same time, her concern only increased his frustration with himself for leaving Vron down there. He should have fought harder. Vron would have.

  Though he wouldn't admit it to anyone, he had let his fear get the best of him. There was something evil in that cave. Dalgron had never experienced sheer terror like that before. He hadn't wanted to face it again. But this time, he knew what was awaiting him. He was prepared. Nothing could convince him to turn tail and run.

  With every step he took closer to the mine entrance, he felt that niggling feeling returning. Of fear. Terror. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his feelings deep inside.

  "Are you okay?" Alyna asked, resting a hand on his shoulder. "You're a pale green. Not your usual dark green."

  "I'm fine." He shrugged off her hand.

/>   Alyna pointed ahead at a pile of rocks. "Is that it?"

  "Yes. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but it took my strongest orcs a day to build that wall. You and I can't take it down so easily by ourselves."

  Alyna turned back to the unicorn. "Syra, can you get us in there?"

  The unicorn extended a leg and bowed her head, her horn level with the rock wall. She let out a hoarse roar, and a flash of light burst from her horn.

  The wall exploded, rubble falling all around them.

  Dalgron threw his arms over his head. "You could have warned me!"

  "And where would be the fun in that?" Alyna asked, a smirk on her face.

  He couldn't blame the faun for torturing him. He deserved it for leaving Vron in the tunnel. But he'd never admit that to her.

  "Thank you, Syra," Alyna said. "You stay out here and keep watch. Dalgron and I are going to investigate this tunnel. See if we can find Vron." She patted the unicorn on the head as it stomped one hoof on the ground. Then she looked up at Dalgron, who was lighting a torch he'd brought. "Let's go." Without waiting for a response, she ran ahead and scrambled over the rubble into the tunnel.

  Dalgron carried the torch in his right hand as he followed her inside. The flickering orange light bounced off the tunnel walls. He bit his lower lip, trying to block out how frightening his last trip down here had been.

  "How far does this go?" Alyna asked, forging ahead without a care.

  "Deep underground. There are many tunnels leading all sorts of places. We have to remember where we turn so we can make it back out again. An orc could get lost in here."

  Alyna rested her hand on the black wall of the tunnel. She closed her eyes and breathed in and out three times deeply. Then she smiled at Dalgron. "It's okay. I'm a faun. I have a certain affinity with nature. We won't get lost."

  "Nature? I don't see any trees or flowers in here for you to talk to," Dalgron scoffed.