The Cost of Betrayal

13

A strange sickness claimed the trees as they neared the clearing, miles from any established path. Grass lay curled and limp, its color a dull brown. The sunlight brought no cheer, for it shone through dead branches. In the center, dilapidated and weatherworn, was the former home of Tessanna Delone. It was a small cottage, overrun with brown vines, with a single door, flat roof, and clogged chimney.

“Pretty, isn’t it,” Tessanna said. Her voice was sullen and inward. “Daddy said the land died at my birth.” She approached the front door, Qurrah at her side. The grass crumpled weakly under their feet. When she yanked open the door, the dull noises of the forest silenced altogether.

Qurrah was familiar with death. He could sense its approach, harness its power, and touch the cold trail that lingered long after its passing. Corpses meant nothing to him. He should have handled seeing what he saw. He didn’t. His breakfast rushed up his throat, and he lurched to one side, doubling over and vomiting.

“Hi, daddy,” Tessanna said. “Did you miss me?”

Tied to a chair hunched the remains of Tessanna’s father. His shriveled hands were bound behind him. The ropes had loosened over time as the flesh underneath shriveled and decayed. The house had been his tomb, and within, he had almost mummified. Stitches of red cloth hung stiff from the leathery nubs of flesh that had been his lips. Covering what remained of his clothes were great blotches of dried blood, mixed with shards of glass.

“I wonder how he died,” she said, glancing back to Qurrah. “I hope it was lengthy.”

Qurrah entered, hands sweating and his stomach still churning. He chastised himself for his weakness. It was just a dead body, after all. Never mind the horrific expression on the man’s face, or the expelled blood and glass. He blamed his reaction on the smell. The air was remarkably stagnant, preserving the body in all its gory detail.

“If we are to live here, we’ll need to greatly improve the natural aroma,” he said, holding a side of his hood over his mouth. Tessanna looked at him, her eyes blank.

“Of course. Did you presume us to leave the body here?”

Qurrah shook his head. “Never mind what I presumed. Help me dispose of your father.”

Using Tessanna’s dagger, they cut the ropes. His body slumped forward, his head falling between his knees as if he were to vomit. The girl took a rope, wrapped it around his neck, and dragged him out of the chair. She showed no sign of emotion as she pulled the body across the floor. She acted as if she were removing a chamber pot. Qurrah propped open the door, took the sheets from the bed and wrapped them around the chair. He carried it around back, planning to toss it to ruin in some far away brush. He stopped, though, for Tessanna was already there.

The grotesque body sat propped against a tree. Tessanna knelt opposite it. She was staring, not blinking, not moving. Qurrah put down the chair and approached.

“Tess?”

“I never said goodbye,” she said. “I wonder why I never said goodbye. It never bothered me until now.” In perfect contrast to her words, her voice lacked any of emotion.

“He didn’t deserve any comfort or sympathy. You knew that, then. You have forgotten it, now.”

The girl shrugged. “Perhaps you’re right. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve me. He didn’t deserve my hugs. My kisses. Me.”

Still no emotion. Qurrah placed a hand on her shoulder. She jerked her head around and saw him, and then the tears started to flow.

“Oh, Qurrah,” she said. She sniffed. “Want to do me a favor?”

“Anything, my love,” he said.

“Fuck me.”

She pulled him down to her, assaulting him with her kiss. They made love in the dirt while the corpse of her father watched.

H arruq paced outside their door, Aurelia’s ring in hand. Two opposing thoughts clashed in his mind. When he came to a decision, he knocked his large knuckles against the door.

“Who is it?” he heard a female voice ask.

“Just open it, Delysia,” said another.

The door cracked open, and Delysia looked out, smirking at the half-orc.

“Care to join me in my prayers?” she asked.

“Ha, ha. Can I talk to Aurry, please?”

“Sure thing, cutie. Aurelia, your suitor is here.”

She danced past him, grinning at the fierce blush in Harruq’s neck. He pushed open the door, stepped in, and crossed his arms. Aurelia lay on her bed, her hair braided into a long ponytail.

“Yes, Harruq?” she asked.

In answer, he walked over, opened her hand, and shoved her ring onto her palm before he lost his nerve.

“What are you doing?” she asked, staring down at the ring.

“I know what you want me to do with it,” he said. “I can’t. Ever.”

She clenched her fist and met his steeled resolve. “Why is that?”

“You know why,” he said.

“No, I don’t. Why?”

“Because it can’t work!” he shouted. Aurelia flinched, and the sight stung him deeply.

“Why, Harruq?” she asked, quieter. “Why can it not work?”

“I’m an orc. You’re an elf. It’s never happened.”

The elf stood, shaking. She slapped him with her empty hand.

“You think me foolish?” she asked, not giving him a chance to speak. “You think I haven’t thought of that? I have abandoned my forest, abandoned my home, and made enemies of my friends, all to be at your side. Just because you fear and loathe the blood in your veins doesn’t mean I feel the same.”

“That’s not, I don’t think you…damn it Aurry, you think this is how I want it to be?”

“What is it you want then?”

“I want you,” he screamed, his face glowing red. “I want you at my side for the rest of my life. And I want to stop being so damn scared to admit it!”

They stared at each other, anger and confusion pulsing through their hearts.

“Say you love me,” she said.

“I love you,” he said.

“Fine.” Her voice quivered, a knife’s edge from breaking. “Then take this ring back. If you want to be with me forever, then to the abyss with what anyone else might think. There may be orcish blood in you, but never would I wish it gone.”

She extended her hand, the ring laying in her open palm. Harruq stared at it, both fearing and yearning for it. Rejecting her was a kindness, a blessing, a noble act from an ignoble man. How could he be so wrong?

He took the ring from her hand.

“I’m sorry,” he said, putting it into his pocket. “I’ll be going now.”

“Wait.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. At first, he was unresponsive, but as his shock faded, his arms circled her waist, holding her close. When the kiss ended, she pressed her forehead against his chest.

“I’ve given so much,” she whispered. “But I’ll give more.”

He hugged her tight at this. “I don’t deserve it.”

“And that doesn’t matter, dummy. You can spend the rest of your life trying to earn it, if you want.”

“That sounds like a plan,” he said.

Aurelia slipped from his arms and smiled at him.

“Good. I’ll be in the rain room. Don’t take forever to decide. I may be an elf, but I still don’t live that long.”

Together they left, only to find Delysia waiting outside their door.

“Lover’s squabble?” she asked.

“Nosy little priestess,” Aurelia said, poking her side. “I should turn you into a gnat.”

“Well, looks like the fights over. If you want to continue kissing and making up, I’ll stay out a little longer.”

Aurelia only winked, abandoning Harruq and his brightly flushed face as she skipped down the stairs.

“No, uh, it’s fine, we don’t need the room,” he said.

Delysia giggled. Having nothing else to say, the half-orc fled up the stairs.

“Those two need to get married,” she laughed to herself.

T wo weeks later, Harruq awoke to the soft rustle of cloth against floor. His room was dark, and the sun still in hiding. A quick glance around his room showed no visitors, but he knew better. Haern lurked nearby, testing him. He shifted his head, still searching. Nothing. Again, he heard a soft rustle, and he spun, thinking it directly behind him. He found only wall.

He glanced up. Nothing there, either. Slowly, Harruq reached down next to his bed and grabbed his swords. He gripped Salvation by the handle and drew it free. Bare-chested and dressed in an old pair of brown pants, he scanned his room. Through the small window, he could still see faint stars. In the dim light, nothing seemed out of place.

“Maybe he’s not here,” he mumbled to himself. Grumbling, he put a foot down to get his chamber pot. When the cold touch of steel pressed against his calf, his entire body jerked in fright.

“It would be difficult to fight without a foot,” he heard Haern whisper from underneath his bed.

“You scared the piss out of me,” Harruq said to him. “Well, nearly. Care to give me a bit of privacy here? Nature’s calling.”

Haern crawled out and removed his hood.

“You should always look under the bed,” he said, frowning. “Just when I thought you were improving. Oh, and your brother is here.”

“Qurrah?” he asked. “Be right down. Where is he?”

“Enjoying breakfast with the others. It is an early morning for the tower. We can practice once you have talked.”

Haern saluted with a saber before vanishing down the stairs. Harruq did his business, threw on some clothes, and rushed after.

T he whole gang, even the late-sleeping Brug, was at the table feasting.

“Qurrah!” Harruq shouted, leaping down the last few steps and hugging his brother, who nearly gagged on some toasted bread.

“Good to see you, Harruq,” Qurrah said, coughing throughout the entire sentence.

“Looks like we won’t be rid of them after all,” Tarlak said, grinning at the two visitors. “Turns out they can’t pass up a free meal.”

“Your gracious company will always prove most alluring,” Qurrah said, each word drowned in sarcasm.

“Usually Tar’s gift is sending people running the opposite direction,” Brug said.

“What was that, tough guy?” the wizard asked.

“Nothing.”

“That’s right, nothing. I have a sex-change wand and I know how to use it, so no sassy comments.”

“Not even from me?” Aurelia asked, batting her eyelashes.

“No, not you,” he answered. “Besides, what fun is there in using the wand on you? I don’t cast that way.”

“Could have fooled me,” Harruq said. Tarlak pulled a pink wand out from a pocket and waved it menacingly. The half-orc feigned terror, then sat down next to Aurelia and started wolfing down his food.

After breakfast, the two left the tower, Harruq eager to speak with his brother.

S o are you going to be staying?” Harruq asked as they walked, the tower a fading image behind them.

“That is what I came to tell you, brother,” Qurrah replied. “We have a home now, far from others. It is peaceful there. More than we deserve.”

“What’s going on?” Harruq said, crossing his arms. “What is with this girl? You barely know her, yet you’re going to live with her in the middle of nowhere?”

Qurrah shrugged. “Yes, that is our plan. Does this bother you?”

“Of course it does! I’ve spoken to her, what, three times? I don’t even know her!”

“I do,” Qurrah said, a cold look entering his eyes. “And your opinion doesn’t matter. I will be with her, regardless of what you say.”

Taken aback, Harruq could not keep the hurt out of his voice.

“What’s happened to you?” he asked. “Your opinion was all that ever mattered to me.”

Qurrah felt guilt creeping in his heart, strange and unwelcome.

“You have found a new home, one I cannot be a part of. I dare not say I love Tessanna, but I will be with her until the day of her death. Please, try to understand.”

“I’m going to marry Aurelia,” Harruq blurted, immediately regretting it. He stood there, waiting like a man with his neck on the chopping block. When the axe fell, it was soft as a feather.

“Do as your heart wishes,” Qurrah said. “As will I. She is a fine woman, elf or not.”

The warrior bobbed his head up and down, wishing he didn’t blush so easily.

“At least you’ll come visit us here in the tower, right?”

“Yes, I will. This is not abandonment, only a mere separation. Our paths broke and split with the death of Velixar. We both know that.”

Harruq gestured to the black cloth his brother wore. “Is that the path you took up?”

A bit of sadness flickered in Qurrah’s eyes, like the glow of a firefly.

“I chose the only path before my feet,” he said. “Goodbye, Harruq. Live well, and be happy. Nothing more could we ever have asked for.”

He turned to leave, stopping only when Harruq called his name.

“Yes?” he asked.

“If you need anything, I’ll be here for you,” he said. “Anything at all.”

“I know,” Qurrah said. Pulling his hood up to guard against the increasingly cold wind, he returned to the tower. Harruq stared a long while after as he vanished behind one of many rolling hills.

T essanna was waiting for Qurrah when he returned, sitting beside the front doors of the tower with a guilty expression on her face.

“I got in trouble,” she said in response to his questioning look.

“Then all the wiser to return home,” he said, offering her his hand. She took it and stood. Before he could leave, the door cracked open. Tarlak emerged, beckoning the necromancer with his hand.

“A moment, if you would, before you go,” he said. Qurrah shrugged and stepped inside. Tarlak slammed the door shut after him, his face deathly serious. All the others were gone, except for Delysia, who sat at the table and stared at her hands.

“What is it, wizard?” Qurrah asked.

“I know I owe her for saving my sister,” he began, “but I am begging you, reconsider what you are doing. She is not well!”

“I know better than you what has been wrought upon her,” the half-orc said, his tone vile. “Do not dare tell me what to do.”

“Right now you are in my tower, so I’ll do as I damn well please,” Tarlak said. “And you best listen. She hurt my sister, half-orc, and I don’t take kindly to that type of thing.”

“Hurt her? Why?”

“She knew,” Delysia said, her voice shaking. “Somehow, she knew. She asked for my hand, and I gave it to her. She cut my palm and…”

She could not finish.

“Wanted to taste such aged purity,” Tarlak finished, his voice a whisper. “It’s like wine, she said. I don’t care what you say has been done to her. Her mind is not right!”

“I know that,” Qurrah shouted. “That is exactly what I wish to heal. She saved Delysia’s life, so consider the debt repaid. She has suffered beyond what you can imagine, so before you impose your limited view, know that I have been inside the chaos that is her mind. I will fix it. I will put it right, and not a soul is going to stop me.”

“Her mind cannot be fixed,” Tarlak shouted back. “Even Calan and all the priests of Ashhur are not strong enough to heal her.”

“Then I will become stronger than Ashhur!” Qurrah screamed before doubling over in a violent coughing fit. All was silent in the room except for his labored breathing.

“Leave my tower,” Tarlak said, his voice eerily calm. “You are free to return, but Tessanna is not allowed within my walls until you pull off this miracle you delude yourself into searching for.”

Tessanna leapt to her feet as Qurrah stormed out of the tower.

“What is it?” she asked.

“We’re leaving,” he said. “Let’s go home.”

The two slipped behind the cover of trees and were gone. Harruq returned much later, and with stones in his gut listened to what his brother’s beloved had done.

T hey were a sullen pair sitting around the fire, faces dark, mouths closed, and thoughts turned inward. Qurrah poured over Pelarak’s spellbook while Tessanna traced her dagger across her skin. A soft giggle brought his attention to her smiling face.

“I’ve forgotten how good this feels,” she said, tensing her arm so that the blood fell on the fire. “Qurrah, why did we not go to Veldaren and take someone for you to experiment upon?”

The half-orc closed the large book.

“I realized something as I read over the tome. Even if I can mimic the way your mind has become, I know little of how to affect it.”

Tessanna licked her bloody arm, staining her lips. “So what do you plan to do?”

“Pelarak recorded all his knowledge on the darker side of magic within this tome. He also has many spells, but it will take time to study them. Until I have mastered these spells, we can delay the messier side of our undertaking.”

“What am I to do while you study?” she asked, her eyes locked on a rune she carved across her arm.

“Cut. Sleep. Return to Veldaren. You are free to do as you wish.”

“I wish to stay with you,” she said. She ran her hand down her arm, smearing blood all across it.

“I wish you to stay with me as well,” he said, opening his book. “I’m sure we will think of ways to pass the time.”

Tessanna looked at the half-orc, smirking. “Oh, I bet we can.”

“I wasn’t thinking sex, but yes, that would be one of the more preferable ways to pass the time.”

“More preferable than reading some old dusty book?” she asked, crawling around the fire like a cat.

“Much more preferable.”

To his surprise, he didn’t really mind the blood from her arm smeared across his naked skin.