The Cost of Betrayal

16

O utside, the chairs were set up, a simple but elegant carpet unrolled between the rows, and all was ready to begin. Only Aurelia, Harruq, and Delysia remained in the tower. The others mingled, ate a bit of food, and shared their stories. Qurrah and Dieredon did their best to remain at opposite sides of the gathering at all times. Tarlak was grateful for small favors.

Harruq was the first to arrive. His armor was polished, his clothes were clean and crisp, and his cloak flapped behind him in the chill wind. He joined his brother’s side and quietly accepted the compliments on his attire. Delysia followed, gushing about how beautiful Aurelia looked.

“You remember, this was all my doing,” she told the groom, winking at him. She stood at the end of the carpet, beaming at everyone. She wore her white robes of Ashhur. Her braided hair hung down her back, shimmering with gold lace. She had a youthful beauty, and many eyes lingered on her, including Harruq’s. Then Aurelia made her debut, and his eyes were only for her.

Around the corner she came, seeming to float across the grass. Rosemary blooms encircled her hair, forming a crown. Her hair hung loose behind her back, though a few braided strands ran down the sides of her face. Earrings of cut sapphires dangled from golden chains in her ears. Her eyes sparkled, highlighted with hints of blue powder.

A new pendant hung from her neck, thin silver threads looping through its clasp. From one direction, it seemed to be of a spider, yet from the other side, the playful shape of a kitten. The twin illusion was marvelous. The pendant rested just above the swell of her breasts, which were on prominent display due to the low cut of her dress. The dress itself was simple, white, and elegant. She wore a single sash, of a sky color, and no shoes.

“How do I look?” she asked. Harruq tried to answer, but his jaw refused to budge from its half-open position. Seeing this, Aurelia lifted her arms above her head and twirled.

“Did I ever tell you how much I envied you?” Tarlak whispered to the half-orc.

“Touch her and die,” Harruq whispered back.

“Harruq, Aurelia, are you ready to begin?” Delysia asked.

“Are you?” the elf asked Harruq.

“Sure,” he said, his smile huge and contagious.

“Good.” She pecked him on the cheek. “Let’s get this over with.”

A lthough Aurelia had been in charge of the wedding, she did not wish it to be traditional elvish. The fact that a priest of Ashhur, and not Celestia, presided over it spoke much to this fact. In truth, they retained only one element of an elvish wedding, and that was the opening song.

“The union of souls should always be a beautiful thing,” Delysia said to all in attendance. The girl was gone, replaced by a proud and solemn woman. “So let this ceremony begin with a beauty to both the eye and the ear. Felewen Queneya, let us hear your song.”

The elf stood, smoothed out the soft blue-white dress she wore, and began to sing. No music accompanied her. No hands clapped along. The only instrument was her powerful voice. Its smooth melody was like the waters of the ocean, rolling from her tongue with a sound that was constant and beautiful. Three hundred years before, she had been taught that song for the funeral of her youngest sibling. Those who heard the words and understood them nodded in understanding and approval. Those who did not, such as Harruq, did not need translation. Their hearts understood.

Felewen’s song ended, followed by a respectful silence. All gathered there looked upon Delysia as she sliced through the quiet with her voice, carrying with it power and authority.

“Harruq Tun. A mixed blood, carrying the race of Celestia’s condemned, as well as the blood of her chosen. You have the potential to be everything we fear, and everything we may hope to be. Whatever path you walked before coming to us matters not. The path ahead, I tell all of you, is what matters, and to marry out of love, and to give devotion to a single soul, shows what path you have chosen. Harruq Tun, I offer you my blessing.”

She smiled and bowed to him. Harruq shifted uncomfortably, glancing more than once at Aurelia. The elf merely smiled and squeezed his hand.

“Aurelia Thyne. Many would give all their worldly possessions for such beauty as yours. Many more would sacrifice for the powerful magic you wield. Well known is the elven hatred of the orcish. Every man and woman on Dezrel walks with the taint of sin, and the failure of mortality. Few wear the proof of this upon their face, their skin, and within their bloodline. Fewer still would see the gem beneath. While all here have come to see the worth of Harruq Tun, you have come to love him as only a soul mate can. Aurelia Thyne, I offer you my blessing.”

The elf smiled as Delysia bowed to her.

“You make me sound too good to be true,” she whispered.

The priestess smiled. “Lovers, your rings.”

Harruq pulled out a small black box from his pocket, while Aurelia levitated a similar box from atop a nearby chair. As one, they opened them. Aurelia’s held a simple silver band. Harruq’s, which he had not opened under Brug’s strict orders, held a much greater surprise. Light burst from the opened box, a soft eruption of colors. Seven orbs of light rose into the sky, sparkling in lavender, blue, gold, green, orange, white, and red. The orbs danced above their heads before taking orbit and bathing them in the colors of the rainbow.

“You outdid yourself there,” Tarlak whispered to Brug, who sat with arms crossed next to him.

“Cheap trick’s all it is,” he whispered back. Still, his face held a smug satisfaction as he watched the orbs revolve in the sky, bathing them in waves of light.

Delysia gave no reaction to the orbs, even though she had been given no warning of the display.

“Harruq Tun. The ring you hold represents your heart, which you give to your lover for eternal safekeeping. Do you give such sacredness freely?”

“I do,” he said.

“And Aurelia Thyne, do you willingly accept his love into safekeeping, for as long as you draw breath?”

“I do,” she said. At those words, Harruq felt a soaring in his heart.

“Give your ring to her, Harruq Tun, and know Ashhur watches and blesses your love with his.”

He took her outstretched hand and slid the ring on her finger. Whirlwinds of feathers tore through his chest. His head felt full of air.

“Aurelia Thyne. The ring you hold represents your heart, which you give to your lover for eternal safekeeping. Do you give such sacredness freely?”

“I do,” she said.

“And Harruq Tun, do you willingly accept her love into safekeeping, for as long as you draw breath?”

“I do,” he said.

“Give your ring to him, Aurelia Thyne, and know Ashhur blesses your love.”

Harruq stared at the ring sliding across his finger, a foreign thing, one he never thought to possess. When finished, the two interlocked their hands and stared into each other’s eyes as Delysia finished the ceremony.

“Each of you holds the love of the other in your heart. Keep it sacred, and keep it close. May Ashhur forever bless and protect these two lovers before us all. Aurelia, you now are a member of the Tun family. Harruq, you may kiss your wife.”

To a round of applause, Harruq took the elf in his arms, dipped her to one side, and kissed her.

T he feast was beyond anything the wizard had ever prepared. Roast quail, venison, boar, and mutton covered a single table, all seasoned with basil, sage, and rosemary. Another table was piled high with cheese, fish, ale-flavored bread, wild fruits, and assorted beers, meads, and wines. Covering all was a blended array of spices, some rare, some common. Each bite contained a hint of cloves, cinnamon, pepper, ginger, or nutmeg.

When the feast was done, and the toasts were over, the guests said their goodbyes.

“Come visit me some time,” Felewen said, hugging both. “Make sure you let me know when the babies are coming.”

“Ha, ha, ha,” Harruq said, grinning at her. Dieredon left with her, bowing to Aurelia and offering only a quick word to Harruq.

“Break her heart, I break you,” he said.

“Will remember,” the half-orc replied. The two mounted Sonowin and soared off into the southern sky.

Qurrah was last, his mood strangely quiet and somber.

“You will come and visit again, won’t you?” Aurelia asked, offering him a curtsey. The half-orc bowed.

“I will do my very best. To both of you, I offer my most sincere congratulations.”

“You stay safe, brother,” Harruq said, hugging him. Qurrah chuckled.

“Of course. You as well.”

Another bow, and then he ventured into the forest, vanishing amid the trees. Harruq resumed eating a bit more, worried by that last troubled look on his brother’s face.

“What are your plans for tonight?” Tarlak asked, sliding beside Harruq while Delysia distracted Aurelia.

“What you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” the wizard said, winking. “You do know what I mean, right?”

Harruq flushed. “Of course I do. Just figured, you know, upstairs in my room and all.”

Tarlak laughed and clapped his hands.

“As a personal favor, I am paying for all of us to stay in a nice inn in Veldaren. The tower is yours for the night. Enjoy.”

Harruq beamed at the wizard. “I owe you a lot, Tar.”

“And you’ll pay me back one day. I have faith in you. But for now, the night is yours. It is time for us to go!”

He clapped three times, and the rest of the Eschaton heard the signal and obeyed. They politely bowed and wished them well, entered the tower, returned with travel packs of clothes, and gathered at the door. Before they left, Haern trudged over to Harruq and removed his hood.

“Just so you know, I am still expecting a sparring match tomorrow morning,” he told him. “Don’t overdo it.”

“I’ll hold him in check,” Aurelia said, kissing the man on the cheek. “Now run off. Time for us to have a little quiet time, right Harruq?”

“Right, Aurelia Tun,” he said, a dumb grin on his face. “Aurelia Tun. Sounds so funny.”

The gang bounded off southeast. Harruq and Aurelia waved, standing in front of the door with arms intertwined.

“Come on upstairs, love,” Aurelia said when they were gone. She kissed his cheek. Hand in hand, they hurried upstairs. When they arrived, they found flowers piled across their beds, a dizzying array of roses, tulips, and daisies, somehow alive even though winter was fast approaching.

“I feel Tarlak’s hand in this,” Aurelia said, picking up one and gently pressing it against her lips.

“Silly wizard, why would I…”

He stopped as he watched Aurelia slowly drift the soft petals down her neck, lower, lower, lower.

“Gods bless you, Tar,” Harruq said.

T he moon was a curved sliver of light illuminating a cold forest when Qurrah returned home. Tessanna sat before a fire she had built in the clearing before the front door.

“How was it?” she asked, the red flame flickering off the black orbs that were her eyes.

“Bearable,” he said, sitting opposite of her. “They love each other so very much.”

“Some people are lucky enough to find and marry their love.” She grabbed a long stick and tossed it upon the fire. “And others never do. And then there is me.”

“You’re no different,” Qurrah said. His voice was vile water spewing from his heart. “Are you incapable of love?”

Tears ran down the sides of her face. Even so, her words carried no hint of the emotion she clearly felt.

“I am capable of loving a man,” she said. “And men are capable of loving me. But death comes for all I love and claims them like a bitter thief.”

Qurrah cast down his eyes, ashamed of his outburst. “Ignore my words. I have lost my brother.”

Tessanna curled her legs against her chest and peered at him over her knees.

“Do you wish to have me? It might help.”

“No,” Qurrah said. “Let my brother do the taking tonight.” She stood to return to the house, but the half-orc stopped her. “Do not go,” he said. “Stay with me.”

The girl smiled, beautiful amid the dreary night. Whether the smile was honest or false, Qurrah was too tired to care.

“I will be inside my home,” she said. “Our home. Do not worry about what your brother does this night.”

She entered the cabin, shutting the door softly behind her. He stared after her, the flickering fire popping and cracking. His mind ravaged itself. How dare he fall prey to weakness. His brother’s actions and choices were of no concern to him. If he found happiness in forsaking his blood and marrying an elf, then so be it. Philosophy was for the rich and the bored. Feeling was all that mattered. His brother felt happiness with her. He would feel happiness with Tessanna.

He stood and kicked out the fire. Silent as a thief, he opened the door to their home. Upon the bed she waited, her clothes cast aside, as if she had known all along.

“It is what we both want,” she said. “I care of nothing else.”

“I know,” he said. He went to her.

T hat night, both brothers slept with fire. One was bright and roaring, a controllable inferno that surrounded and engulfed. One was cold, a blue flame, burning without heat, turning to ash without the warmth of consumption. Blanketed by stars and separated by a great distance, both found peace in the fire.

Of the two, only one created life.