The Shadows of Grace

5

B y the third day of flight, Harruq was aching for the good old days of skulking around the streets of Veldaren at night on some odd job Tarlak had given them. The air was brutally cold against their skin, and the few blankets they’d packed did little to help. Seleven did his best, carrying them on wings that took hours to tire. Sometimes he’d snort, and Aurelia would lean down to whisper to him. That was always a sign for Harruq and Haern to grab on tight and pray to survive the upcoming roll, spin, or dive.

They stopped often to eat, rest, and take care of the normal needs of nature for both horse and rider. For the most part the ground was hilly and rough, the grass a thin carpet over dirt so rocky farmers had abandoned trying to use it. By the fourth day, however, the landscape changed below them. A great river slowly drifted south, and when Harruq turned, he saw an enormous lake rimmed by high, sheer rock walls. Trees surrounded it, their branches hanging low as roots grabbed and clawed for a foothold.

“Wow,” said Harruq, awed by the sight.

“That’s where the Kinel River empties,” Aurelia said as she tapped on Seleven’s neck. They swooped lower for a look. The tree branches were a barren, interlocking weave. Harruq found himself wishing they’d come sooner, when the leaves were still changing their colors. Seleven skimmed atop the river, then soared across the lake, its surface rippling from the air of the horse’s wings.

“What’s that called?” Harruq asked, pointing to the lake.

“Beaver Lake,” Aurelia answered.

“Why’s it called that?” he asked.

Haern smacked him across the shoulder.

“Why do you think?”

Just to show him anyway, Aurelia leaned closer and shouted something to Seleven in elvish. They swooped lower, angling southward. Sure enough, at its southern edge was an enormous construction of wood and mud.

“The beavers dammed it a century ago,” Aurelia said. She pointed past where the Kinel River resumed from waters trickling atop the half-mile long dam. The drop down on the other side was frightening.

Haern shouted something, but Harruq had a hard time hearing it over the wind in his ears.

“What?” the half-orc shouted back.

“I said do you want to go for a swim?”

“Ha, ha, ha.”

They turned north, then slowed. Finding a smooth ledge where they could touch the water with their hands, they landed.

“Why are we stopping?” Harruq asked as he hopped down. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“We need to decide what we’ll do,” Aurelia said.

“Isn’t Tarlak normally the planning guy?”

“He’s not here,” Haern said. “Though your powers of observation are honed to a shocking degree.”

“Harruq is right, however obvious,” Aurelia said. “One of us must talk to Lord Sully when we reach the Green Castle. Only he can mobilize the defenses of the Hillock. The question is, which of the three of us has the best chance of obtaining an audience?”

“Let me think,” Haern said. “An outcast elf, a warrior of orc-blood whose brother wages war upon the world, or myself, son of a dead thief guildmaster…”

“You’re also the King’s Watcher,” Harruq said. “Surely that means something.”

“That king is dead,” Haern said. “And Lord Sully and Vaelor didn’t exactly get along.”

Obtaining wood for a fire was easy enough, so Aurelia wandered closer to the trees and began collecting fallen branches, Harruq helping her. Haern only crossed his arms and looked across the lake.

“Still think you’ve got the best chance,” Harruq said to Haern while he snapped a few branches in half and tossed them into a growing pile.

“It needs to be Aurelia,” Haern said, shaking his head. He reached into one of the saddlebags and pulled out some wrapped meat. When Aurelia snapped her fingers, igniting the campfire, he unwrapped the meat and began preparing it for cooking.

“Why is that?” the elf asked as she sat down beside her husband.

“You can claim to be an official envoy of the Dezren elves,” Haern said. “You’re of their blood. They will have no reason to deny you. Besides, of all human leaders, Lord Sully is the warmest toward elvenkind.”

“That’s because he doesn’t have to live next to them,” Harruq said, ignoring Aurelia’s jab to his stomach.

“There is some truth to that,” said Haern. “But you must also remember the Hillock shares its western border with the Vile Wedge, protected only by the Bone Ditch. The elves and their scoutmasters have played a large part in keeping the creatures there under control.”

“I might be better at words than Harruq here,” Aurelia said, “but that doesn’t mean much. I’m not sure I can convince anyone that the threat is real.”

“Use your beauty and your wit, Aurelia. You’ll do fine.”

Haern winked at her.

A simple levitation spell hovered the meat above the fire, and a twirl of her fingers made it turn as if on a spit. Harruq watched, reminded of his brother.

“It’ll be nice not having to conjure our meal for once,” Aurelia said. “And if I am to talk to Lord Sully, what am I to say? What should we tell him? And will he even believe us? War demons from another world coupled with an undead army and a rampaging horde of orcs might soon come crossing the Kinel or looping around the northern hills and into the Hillock?”

“Makes enough sense to me,” Harruq said, his mouth starting to water. “And hey, don’t stop turning, it might burn the… there we go. Good girl.”

Aurelia shot him a look, but the half-orc only grinned.

“What?” he asked.

“Make you cook your own food,” Aurelia muttered.

“Back to the task at hand,” Haern said. “Dieredon was vague about what the orcs were doing, other than a general spread north. We don’t know where Qurrah and his demons will strike, either. They might follow Antonil west. They might consolidate power in Veldaren, dealing with the various lords one after another. They might even go after the elves for all we know. The point is, Lord Sully needs to know so he can muster his troops to defend his territory.”

“Hard to defend against winged invaders,” Harruq said.

“No,” she said. “He’s right. If the demons assault the Hillock, they’ll most likely be doomed anyway. But I don’t think they’ll do that, not yet. Mordan is the greatest threat, the only other true kingdom. They’ll turn their focus toward it, and most likely let the orcs pillage and burn everything else. There’s a chance to stop them if that happens, so we’ll try.”

“There now,” said Haern. “That sounded plain and precise enough to sway my mind. You’ll do fine with Lord Sully.”

They ate in silence. Harruq shifted uncomfortably, as if he had something to say but was afraid to say it. Haern kept his eyes on his meal, and Aurelia leaned closer toward him, hoping he might find the words.

“I should have killed him,” Harruq blurted.

Haern glanced up. “That’s stating the obvious.”

“Shush, Harruq,” Aurelia said. “You never could have known. He was your brother. Murdering him wouldn’t have brought back…it wouldn’t have changed anything. Don’t blame yourself for what he’s done.”

Haern chuckled.

“You can try all you want,” he said. “But I can think of thousands who wish you’d have buried that sword in his gut. Never forget that. Sometimes mercy is dangerous.”

“So is murder,” Aurelia said.

“Enough,” Harruq said, standing. “I’m sorry. We should get back to flying. Those orcs won’t wait for us to arrive.”

He trudged off, the other two watching him go. Aurelia looked to the fire.

“You blame him for Delysia, don’t you?” she asked.

Haern stood and walked away, saying not a word.

It took several more days to reach the Green Castle, seat of power for Lord Sully. The trip there was quiet, Harruq and Haern saying little to one another. Below them the pale grass rolled, the hills softening once within the borders of the Hillock. Aurelia mentioned a worry of snow, the clouds deep and the air chill, but her concern was unfounded. Still, the weather was foreboding when they arrived at the castle.

“Not much green,” Harruq said as they flew closer. “Looks brown, if anything.”

“Because it’s winter,” Aurelia said. “Every wall is covered with vines. You should see it in summer. The flowers bloom and the vines turn many beautiful shades of green.”

The castle appeared newer in style, built of stone from the mountains to the north. It had a thin wall stretching out from either side, protecting not just the nearby village but several crops fields and deep wells. The castle itself had two layers. Its thick, rectangular base had a tower at each corner and large battlements for soldiers to walk along. The castle’s top was slender in comparison and full of windows. A smooth ramp gave passage between the layers. The entire complex sat upon a hill, and Harruq was glad he wouldn’t have to climb up it, assuming they landed nearby. Given the many archers that lined its walls, he wondered if that was a good idea, and said so.

“I’d prefer we not get shot out of the air, either,” Aurelia said. “Let’s land in the village and approach.”

“Don’t be foolish,” Haern said. “You’re an ambassador of the elves. Land where you wish. Showing unease will only make them suspicious.”

Aurelia shrugged. Made some sense, as much as it worried her. She whispered a command to Seleven in elvish, and they swooped downward. Soldiers were already scrambling when the winged horse landed before the closed gate of the castle’s lower level. Tabards hung over their armor, emblazoned with a green castle over a white field. Aurelia dismounted as a ring of soldiers raised their weapons and glanced at each other nervously.

“Greetings,” she said, bowing in the formal elvish manner, her palms upward and her heels together. “My name is Lady Aurelia Thyne of the green forests, carrying a message for Lord Sully.”

One of the soldiers coughed and looked at the others. When it was clear they weren’t budging, the soldier stepped forward and bowed clumsily.

“Greetings, Lady Thyne,” he said. “If you’ll come with me, I’ll present you to the throne.”

“Thank you,” she said, smiling at him. Harruq and Haern hopped down, revealing their swords.

“Not them,” the highest ranking soldier said. “Your companions must remain here.”

“I’m not leaving them,” Aurelia said. “But I understand your concern. They will come unarmed.”

She shot them a look that brooked no argument.

“Don’t touch the hilts,” Harruq said as he handed a soldier his twin blades, Salvation and Condemnation. “You might get yourself a nasty shock.”

The soldier gave Harruq a funny look but made sure to hold the swords by the sheaths only. Haern surrendered his sabers, and after a glare from Aurelia, two more daggers from his pants, another from his boot, and a fourth from a hidden pocket in his cloak.

“Very well,” their guide said. “Follow me.”

A shout from him and the gates opened. Harruq slid next to Aurelia as they approached.

“You used your old name,” he whispered.

“Thyne sounds much more elvish than Tun,” she whispered back, snickering as he feigned insult.

The hallway leading to the throne was short, decorated with green banners hanging overhead. Portraits of the Sully family lined the walls, men and women of all ages. In the background of each one, lurking like a phantom in the distance, was the Green Castle. Some of the women were beautiful, the men handsome, but every now and then there’d be one with a malformed nose, ugly teeth, or a gargoyle face. This time it was Harruq’s turn to snicker at a portrait of a boy with enormous ears.

“Behave,” Aurelia warned. The soldiers escorting them pretended not to hear.

The throne was empty when they arrived in the great hall. Four long tables ran parallel to the green carpet which led to the dark oak throne. Soldiers with halberds stood at the ready along the far walls.

“My Lord, Lady Aurelia Thyne of the elvenkind!” shouted the soldier, his voice echoing in the empty hall. The three stood at the entrance, moving forward only after the lead soldier gestured. Aurelia led the way, Harruq and Haern flanking her either side. Once they were halfway there, the surrounding soldiers halted and slammed the butts of their halberds to the stone floor.

“Hail the Lord of the Green!” they shouted. The three Eschaton stopped, bewildered.

A door opened on the far right of the throne, and in stepped Lord Sully, a silver crown on his head. His face was clean-shaven, his eyes brown, his hair black with a hint of gray. He wore chainmail armor, brightly polished. A long sword swayed at his hip. When he saw Aurelia he smiled.

“Lady Thyne,” he said, striding up as if they were long-lost friends. “Welcome to my home.”

He extended a foot forward and then bowed. Aurelia returned it with her smooth elven curtsey, while Harruq did his best to match Haern’s expert bow.

“A warm welcome,” Aurelia said, smiling back at him. “Though I fear the news I bring will fade your smile.”

“My smile will never fade looking upon your beauty,” Lord Sully said. “But surely you have traveled long and far. I’ve already sent servants to prepare rooms for all three of you. Might you join me for bread and wine?”

“A kind offer,” Aurelia said. “Though we will need only two rooms. To my right is Harruq Tun, my husband by marriage.”

Lord Sully’s eyes twinkled as if he were deeply amused.

“An intriguing match,” he said, turning to Harruq. “Perhaps while we break bread you might explain how you won over such a lady.”

Harruq blushed and shifted on his feet, not sure if he was being mocked or not.

“Our rooms, please,” Aurelia said, trying to bail Harruq out.

“Right away,” Lord Sully said, snapping his fingers. A trio of servants rushed in from the same door the lord had entered through. “They will take you to your rooms. Once you’ve refreshed, join me in the hall. We’ll have a feast ready for you. The days have grown dark, and it’d be good to celebrate your arrival.”

With a deep bow, he left them. The Eschaton followed the servants to their rooms. Somehow, a large tub of steaming hot water was already waiting in each. The servants handed them several towels and soaps. Harruq accepted them with a perplexed look on his face.

“We walk in, barely even introduce ourselves, and we get food, bath, and wine?” he asked. “Is this how nobility live?”

“Oftentimes, yes,” Aurelia said, untying the laces of her dress. “I went with my parents a few times to speak with the King of Mordeina. Until the ill times, our treatment was always exquisite.”

“Huh,” Harruq said, watching Aurelia undress.

“No funny ideas,” she said as she slipped naked into the water.

“Who, me?”

The water was nearly scalding, but Harruq forced himself in. Once he lay back, the water nearly up to his neck, he sighed and closed his eyes.

“Not bad,” he said.

Aurelia splashed him in the face.

Ten minutes later, the servants returned while they were toweling off.

“Pardon the interruption,” said a chubby woman carrying a stack of clothes. “My Lord says with how long you’ve been traveling you might not have proper court clothes.”

Harruq grumbled as he sat on the bed, only a towel hiding his nakedness.

“I have to dress like a pansy noble?” he asked.

“Yes,” Aurelia said, taking an offered outfit.

“I guessed on the sizes,” the servant lady said. She looked to Harruq and frowned. “Though you’re a tad taller and a bit rounder in the arms than I thought.”

The other two servants accompanying her also held clothes in their arms. The chubby one searched through a pile, found something more akin to Harruq’s size, and laid it out on the bed. She then grabbed the remaining towels before all three hurried off, shutting the door behind them.

“Get dressed,” Aurelia said. “We’ve taken long enough. If we tarry, Lord Sully might take it as an insult.”

“Will he take it as an insult if I wear my old clothes and armor?” Harruq asked, holding up a finely woven shirt of white and blue.

“Of course,” Aurelia said. “You would attend a conference of peace dressed in the garb of war?”

Harruq rolled his eyes.

“Can’t we just go find some orcs and beat them senseless instead?” he asked.

Aurelia let her towel drop and held the dress to her chest. She leaned over and kissed him on the nose, then started sliding the soft purple fabric over her head. Harruq sighed but ceased his complaining. Aurelia’s dress was tight around the waist, but she adjusted it as best she could. The shoulders were frilled in a style she didn’t recognize, the bottom stitched to always appear wavy and in motion. It hugged her body tight, and Harruq shook his head at the sight of her.

“You were meant for this stuff, not I,” he said.

“You look dashing,” she said, kissing his cheek. “Let’s go see if Haern is ready.”

They’d brought Haern a similar outfit as Harruq, dark britches with long-sleeved shirts of white and blue. Haern, however, seemed far more comfortable in it. He’d combed his blond hair back and shaved his face. Harruq wondered if one of the servants had trusted him with a razor, or if he’d managed to smuggle in a dagger despite the guard’s request. Haern wore his gray cloak still, and he let it swoop about him as he bowed.

“Aren’t we the dashing three?” Haern asked, wearing a wry smile.

“Let’s not drag this out too long,” Aurelia said. “Enjoy your food, but make sure we discuss other matters as well. I don’t know how Lord Sully will react or what he knows. He’ll keep his information close to his chest, so watch your words.”

“Yes, milady,” Haern said, winking.

She snapped her fingers at him, the tips sparking with electricity.

“Off we go.”

When Lord Sully had said ‘feast’ he didn’t exaggerate. Harruq’s mouth dropped open at the sight. Baskets of bread dotted the tables, along with several filled with a red fruit Harruq didn’t recognize. Each of the four tables had a roasted boar, still hanging from the spit over elaborate plates of silver. Upon their entrance, the Lord raised a cup from his seat at the head of the largest table. A hundred soldiers sat nearby, their plates empty. As one they stood and turned toward the Eschaton.

“To our guests,” Lord Sully said.

“Honored!” the soldiers shouted, slamming a clenched fist against their breast. They sat as one. Lord Sully sipped from his cup, and then the feast began in earnest.

“Please, sit at my side,” he said, gesturing to empty seats at either side of him. “It will allow us to talk.”

Aurelia sat on his left. Harruq sat beside her, while Haern sat opposite the lord.

“You are too kind,” Aurelia said as servants darted about carrying plates, forks, knives, and food.

“Now is time for feasting, and therefore an end to all the formality,” Lord Sully said. “Please, call me Richard.”

For a little while they ate, Harruq thoroughly enjoying the many meats, breads, and seemingly unlimited amount of wine. After a third cup, Aurelia not so subtly reminded him to keep his head. Harruq muttered but obeyed.

“I must confess,” Richard said, sipping from his cup. He’d eaten very little of the meal set out before him. “We did not prepare such a feast solely for you. Today is a special day for us, a night of feasts for all my soldiers throughout the Hillock.”

“What might that be for?” Harruq asked. Aurelia winced at how he talked with food in his mouth.

“Tomorrow we ride to war,” Richard said. Harruq’s eyebrows shot up.

“Against who?” he asked.

“In the far southwest of the Hillock lives Sir Harford Kull,” said Richard. “He was a loyal knight once, and I rewarded him handsomely when he was betrothed to my daughter.”

Richard sighed and put down his cup.

“The matter is too personal,” he said. “I’m sorry. Sir Kull has gathered men and knights, fostering claims of brutality and murder to create war. Now he marches toward my castle. My patience has ended, and war he shall get. You come on an ill night, your elven grace.”

Aurelia pushed away her plate.

“This matter cannot wait,” she said. “Not if what you say is true. Richard… Lord Sully, what news have you heard of Veldaren?”

Some of the soldiers nearby heard her question and responded.

“Destroyed by winged men,” one said, laughing.

“Aye, red men with wolf pets and orc slaves,” said another. “I also heard a seven-headed dragon came out of the sea and swallowed the entire Mordan army.”

“This is no jest,” Aurelia said, her face flushing. “You must know Veldaren has been destroyed. You are not so far away as that.”

Richard crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat.

“We’ve heard a few reports, though they are as conflicted as they are ridiculous. Wolf-men roaming the wilderness. Orcs pillaging within the city walls. A legion of undead marching like a proper army. Even worse, I had one merchant claim he saw red men with crimson wings flying among the stars. A poor excuse for abandoning your wares, wouldn’t you say?”

“They’re true,” Harruq said. “We were there.”

All around men laughed, then quieted by a single wave of Richard’s finger.

“You ask me to believe the unbelievable,” Richard said.

Harruq ignored the men.

“Karak stirred up the Vile Wedge and led an assault on Veldaren,” he said. “King Vaelor’s dead. Orcs will soon pour over the north unless you do something about it. Whoever this Sir Kull is, I doubt he’s as dangerous as my gray-skinned brethren.”

The silence that followed was deafening. After a moment, Lord Sully spoke.

“Your story sounds more like a bad dream than truth,” Richard said. “But it has been almost ten years since an envoy of the elves came to the Green Castle. I will not dismiss you so easily. What of the red men with wings? Can you explain that?”

“War demons of another world,” Haern said, chuckling as he said it. Harruq thought the assassin far too amused by their preposterous tale.

“Get these buffoons out of here,” an inebriated soldier called from far down the table. Richard glared but did not spot the offender. He uncrossed his arms and leaned forward, looking directly at each member of the Eschaton in turn.

“My scouts along our northern border have reported orcs across the Bone Ditch,” he admitted. “Nothing major, not yet. They’ve crossed before and broke on the walls of Veldaren. Indeed, many were returning to the Vile Wedge, and I thought them defeated. Now you say they had victory. Will they come for us?”

“You must give up this silly fight with an errant Knight,” insisted Harruq. “We think the war demons will give chase after King Antonil and the rest of Veldaren’s survivors. The orcs will come for the Hillock, though. You need to muster your troops and protect your people!”

“It will be a cold day in the Abyss before I let a man of orcish blood tell me how to run my lands,” Lord Sully said, standing. “I will remove the danger within my own house before turning to the danger without. This feast is done. Return to your rooms. I will send a servant for you before I march.”

Harruq stood, biting his tongue to keep himself from saying anything that might earn him a stay in a dungeon cell. Two soldiers led them away. Once back in their rooms, Harruq stripped off his clothes, glad to be done with them. He put on his own outfit, feeling far more comfortable.

“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 travelled 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.

“Harruq?”

The half-orc looked up. He felt naked and confused. A slender hand touched his shoulder, and he flinched as if struck. Another looped around his neck, and then Aurelia’s hair fell across his face, and within its privacy Harruq sobbed.

“No better,” he said when he could to speak. “I’m no better. How could I have done something like this? How could I… how could…?”

“Shush,” Aurelia whispered, but Harruq would not listen.

“I’m a monster,” he said. “Just a monster.”

Haern approached. his sabers swing at his hip.

“The orcs went west,” he said quietly. “They must have attacked here on the way. Wouldn’t be surprised if they had run low on supplies. When Sir Kull and Lord Sully arrive, they’ll have to be men of stone to ignore this carnage.”

“Thank you, Haern,” Aurelia said, still clutching her husband. “Please, go to Seleven. We’ll be with you soon.”

Haern nodded and left. Harruq’s sobs had turned to soft, shuddering breaths. He seemed almost embarrassed by his outburst. Aurelia used her fingers to wipe his face, and when he looked to her, she smiled.

“What?” he asked.

In response, she kissed his forehead.

“Not a monster,” she told him. “Maybe once, but not now. And not ever again. Do you remember when Aullienna was born? You tried to flee me, flee her. Do you remember?”

Harruq nodded.

“You were scared out of your mind,” Aurelia said, and she smiled again. “But you stayed. You changed. Don’t punish yourself over what you’ve done. No matter what, I love you. And no matter what Qurrah does, I’ll love you. And no matter what happens to this whole blasted world, I’m still going to love you.”

Harruq chuckled, embarrassed and ashamed and tired. He held her tight, his hands lost in her hair, his wet cheeks pressed against her neck.

“I think that’ll be enough,” he said. “Just don’t leave me, all right?”

“How could I leave such a mopey half-orc?” Aurelia said, kissing him once more. “Now let’s go. We need to make sure those two stupid lords and knights get the right message out of here.”

They returned to Haern, who stood waiting by Seleven. He watched the south, and when they neared, he pointed.

“I believe that’s Sir Kull,” he said. “They’re moving like someone’s lashing their backs with whips, so Lord Sully must not be too far behind.”

“Are they heading this way?” Harruq asked.

“Looks like it,” Haern said. “The smoke has drawn their attention.”

“Let’s wait for them,” Aurelia said. “But away from here. The smell turns my stomach.”

They rode Seleven a quarter mile south and waited. When Sir Kull’s army neared, the three Eschaton expected their customary greeting. They weren’t disappointed. Soldiers surrounded them, weapons drawn.

“You’ve led us on a merry chase,” Sir Kull said once he arrived. “Lord Sully stalks us even now, and the northern hills are still days away. And what of the smoke in the distance? Do you play games with us, elf?”

Aurelia shook her head, clearly having no patience for such banter.

“You’ll see it with your own eyes,” she said. “Your land is in dire peril. But my words will mean nothing. Go see. Ride ahead on a horse if you must.”

“I will not flee into an ambush,” the knight said.

“Then bring the whole army,” Harruq said. “Hope they have strong stomachs.”

Sir Kull glared but did not respond.

“Come with us,” he said. “Let us see what game you play.”

Aurelia glanced to the others, who merely shrugged.

“Very well,” she said. “Lead on.”

They traveled in relative silence, talking only when asked a question pertaining to what they knew of Lord Sully and his movements. Seleven trotted behind them, and Harruq figured the horse glad to stretch his legs instead of his wings. All around them, soldiers in armor huffed and puffed, their eyes drooping and their faces ragged. If it came to battle, he doubted they’d be up for a fight. Slowly the smoke cloud neared, until those in the front could see its source.

“Auchby’s been attacked!” shouted one of the soldiers. The cry traveled through the army.

“Auchby?” they shouted. “Auchby burns!”

Sir Kull grabbed Aurelia’s wrist and yanked her close.

“What part did you play in this?” he asked. Harruq was there immediately, ignoring the swords that pointed toward his neck.

“Let go or lose the hand,” the half-orc growled.

The knight paused a moment, then let go.

“I would never have part in something so vile,” Aurelia said. “We’re here to help, but to do that, you people of the Hillock must first open your eyes.”

The men marched on, a bit of urgency returning to their step. The path they took led them between two thick hills, and at the end of its curve they arrived at the massacred town of Auchby. The Eschaton remained on the outskirts as, wide-eyed and horrified, Sir Kull’s army slowly spread throughout the remains.

“Watch your tongues,” Aurelia told them as they waited. “We’re walking on thin branches.”

“Above hungry lions,” Harruq added.

“The analogy worked well enough without your help,” Haern said.

The half-orc shrugged.

After ten minutes, Sir Kull returned, flanked by six of his men.

“Orcs did this,” he said. “How long have you known?”

“We came to warn Lord Sully,” Aurelia said, watching the knight closely. “He would hear none of our warning. When we came to you, we doubted any better a result. So we’ve brought you both north. As for this village, we found out only this morning.”

Sir Kull’s hand drifted down to his sword, and Harruq tensed in case he drew it from its sheath. Haern was already swaying, his hands hidden underneath his cloaks.

“Who loosed the orcs upon the east?” Sir Kull asked. “When did this happen? We’ve heard only outlandish rumors of Veldaren’s fall at their hand. Never once did we take them seriously.”

“They’re real,” Aurelia said. “The orcs crossed the Bone Ditch, and will do so again. They must have a bridge. If we can destroy it, there might be a chance to protect your Hillock, for a time.”

Sir Kull looked south.

“Richard will be here soon. We’ll set up formations beside the village. If he wants to fight amid his own people’s dead, then so be it. The Hillock will be better without him.”

Sir Kull saluted and left.

“Aren’t we messengers of doom,” Haern said, throwing back his cloaks and halting his rhythmic swaying.

“Not much good news to spread lately,” Harruq muttered.

“Let’s go,” Aurelia said. “I’d be shocked if Lord Sully desires to fight after seeing this. We have a bridge to find.”

She whistled, and Seleven trotted over. The Eschaton climbed atop her back and took to the sky. They flew westward, the smoke fading behind them. Harruq looked back, watching for a long time before turning away.

T he sight of the Bone Ditch nearly unhinged Harruq’s jaw from his face. Noticing this, Aurelia asked Seleven to fly lower, directly into its center. Stretching hundreds of feet from side to side, the giant chasm made them seem puny and insignificant. Far below them ran the Rigon River, making its way south across Dezrel. The rock was red and brown, the cliffs sheer. All along the bottom were untold numbers of bones. The creatures of the Vile Wedge had long used the chasm as both a burial ground and an execution method, and it was their name for it that eventually stuck.

“No wonder the orcs can’t get across,” Harruq shouted. “You really think they can build a bridge long enough?”

“It’s been done before!” Aurelia cried.

They swooped higher and followed the Bone Ditch north. Harruq leaned over to one side and watched the chasm twist and curl below them. Sometimes the sides narrowed together, and sometimes they spread wide, but at no point did they seem within even a hundred yards. At no point could he imagine a bridge long enough to span the distance.

And then he saw it.

Hundreds of orcs lined both sides, scurrying like an army of ants. Cut logs and planks were stacked on either side. They hurried about, weaving ropes, smoothing boards, and hacking into the rock. Seleven dipped low, swooping underneath the bridge. Below it were more orcs, hanging from ropes and hammering into the rock to create supports. Ropes had spanned the narrow area, almost two hundred yards in length. So far the middle was empty, just a gap between the supports. Given the work going on, it looked to be finished within days.

At their passing, the orcs shouted and pointed, and a few hurled their hammers or nails, to no avail. Seleven banked higher and out of range of any projectile the orcs might use.

“What do we do now?” Harruq asked.

Aurelia glanced back and winked. Seleven spun them around, and from high above Aurelia closed her eyes to concentrate. Fire burst from her fingers. As they flew overhead, she hurled seven fireballs toward the bridge. Each ball erupted in a great explosion of flame, shattering supports, charring the rope, and destroying the wood planks. They banked around a second time as the bridge collapsed and fell into the chasm amid howls of fury.

That done, she wrapped her arms around Seleven’s neck and shouted orders above the wind. The winged horse turned, flying back toward Auchby.

“They’re trapped now,” Aurelia said. “Without a bridge, they can’t reinforce from the Vile Wedge.”

Harruq grinned. Without a way to retreat, the orcs would be crushed against the chasm by the Hillock’s soldiers… assuming the soldiers hadn’t hacked each other’s heads off in their feud.

When they arrived back at Auchby, it appeared their feud might wait. Lord Sully’s men camped about half a mile south of Auchby, while Sir Kull’s were set up to the east. Aurelia landed in Sir Kull’s camp since they were still uncertain what Lord Sully’s reaction would be to them breaking out and disobeying his orders.

“Welcome back,” Sir Kull said. “Might I ask where you’ve been?”

“The orcs were building a bridge across the Bone Ditch,” Aurelia said. “I destroyed it. They have nowhere to go. If you march now, you might wipe out the whole lot of them before they can scatter north.”

Sir Kull nodded, then turned toward Lord Sully’s camp.

“His men are searching the village,” he explained. “I sent out a messenger with request to parlay. We’ll see if he accepts.”

A soldier arrived, his armor polished and his tunic clean. Evidently Sir Kull had fixed him up a bit before sending him over to Lord Sully’s. The man saluted, then delivered his report.

“He’ll meet you between our camps, in front of Auchby,” the soldiers aid. “Their camp is stirred, and angry, but I don’t feel it directed toward us.”

“Good,” Sir Kull said. “Dismissed. Gentry, fetch me a horse. William, see if you can find me a fresh tunic.”

Sir Kull turned and bowed to the Eschaton.

“Forgive me,” he said. “I have much to do.”

“We’re glad to get out of the way,” Harruq said. “Just make sure I get to kill some orcs by tonight, eh?”

Sir Kull flashed a smile.

“I pray you have your chance,” he said.

The Eschaton ate a bit of food offered by Sir Kull’s soldiers, and then rested while they kept their eye toward Auchby. The two noblemen met, each accompanied by three escorts holding flags waving their family’s coat of arms. For a long while they talked, to the point that both armies became nervous and fidgety. Finally, they saluted and broke. When Sir Kull rode up, he held his sword high.

“Tonight,” he shouted, “we repay the blood spilled this day! Lord Sully has granted me my rights, and shall press no claim until the day our lands are safe! To the west!”

Harruq let out a whoop.

“Time to kill some orcs,” he said.

They rode atop Seleven, but kept to the ground. Following them marched the combined armies of Sully and Kull, their animosity vanishing like the smoke behind them. They followed the inner slopes of the hills, the Eschaton leading them northwest toward the bridge. Aurelia angled them a bit, so that when they were parallel to the bridge they’d have a bit of distance between them in case the orcs had fled either north or south.

“They’re likely to assume an army will be near,” Aurelia said as the hills steadily smoothed out toward the Bone Ditch. “Though if we’re lucky, they’ll think we were alone, as the Scoutmasters of the Quellan elves often are.”

“I don’t think we’re often the lucky sort,” Haern said. “They’ll be ready, and from what I saw, our numbers advantage is slight.”

“Yes, but we have horsemen,” Aurelia insisted, gesturing to the two hundred knights riding with Lord Sully’s group. “We’ll trample the orcs against the cliff.”

At last the hills smoothed out completely, and waiting for them in battle formations were the orcs. They formed circles around the remnants of the bridge, a thin line of spearman before a great many with axes. They howled and cheered at the sight of their enemy. Lord Sully and Sir Kull joined the Eschaton at the front.

“They’re packed tight,” Lord Sully said as he rode up on his horse.

“Too tight,” Sir Kull said. “If we surround them, they’ll have no way to maneuver. One steady push with your horsemen and we’ll knock them right off the cliff.”

“I’m sure you’d love my knights to drive headlong into their spears,” Lord Sully said. “What’s your plan, to push us off after we finish with the orcs?”

“If I wanted your men to die, I’d simply give the word,” Sir Kull said, his hand falling to the hilt of his sword.

Aurelia saw this and felt her temper flare.

“Auchby burns,” she said, recalling the words each of their own men had shouted. “Or have we forgotten?”

Both men glanced away, as if embarrassed. In the distance, the orcs shouted and clanged their weapons together, working themselves into a frenzy.

“My men will engage their left flank,” Lord Sully said. “Have yours engage the right. When we see a gap or weakness, I’ll lead the charge with my knights.”

“Good enough,” said Sir Kull, saluting. The two noblemen returned to their armies, shouting orders and encouragement.

“Once these orcs are dead, we might have a tough battle still waiting,” Harruq said as they left.

“We’ll have to remind them that these orcs are just the tip of the arrow,” Aurelia said.

“So you heard their plan,” Haern said. “Where do we fit in it?”

“Well, since each army is taking either left or right, how about… middle?” said the elf.

Haern grinned.

“Perfect.”

With a call of trumpets and a communal shout, the human army approached. The orcs howled, sounding almost impatient. As Lord Sully swung his men left, Sir Kull broke them right. They swarmed about the orcs, giving them no path to retreat, only the long fall in the Bone Ditch. If they were worried, the orcs didn’t show it. With unusual control for their race, they didn’t even charge when the humans neared. Instead they waited, letting the fight come to them. That alone worried Harruq as he dismounted from Seleven.

“Something’s wrong,” he said. “Orcs aren’t that disciplined. Think they trapped the lines?”

“They can’t have had time, and the ground is bare,” Haern said as he leaped off and drew his sabers. “Whatever trap they have, it isn’t in the dirt.”

“Hope you’re right,” the half-orc said.

“Actually, I hope he’s not,” Aurelia said. “I prefer the trap we suspect to the one we know nothing about.”

Another trumpet blew, and then the humans charged. Harruq drew Salvation and Condemnation and clanged the sister swords together. As a red glow surrounded their steel, he bellowed a war cry and charged. Haern ran alongside, his cloaks billowing behind him. In a terrible cacophony of pain, steel, and blood, the armies collided. The humans, smaller in stature and weaker in strength, relied on their numbers and training to endure the sudden, brutal fury of the orcs.

When Harruq reached the fight, he dashed between two sorely pressed soldiers and swung his blades, cutting off the arm of an orc and disemboweling a second. Haern slashed and spun, blood splattering as his enemies fell. Several more orcs lined up, trying to form a defensive front against them.

“Harruq!” he heard Aurelia shout, her voice magnified by magic. When Harruq glanced back, he saw Aurelia in the midst of casting a spell, her eyes locked skyward. He turned, and then dropped to his knees out of reflex and horror.

Four boulders hurled through the air over the Bone Ditch. Aurelia hit one with a wall of magical force, cracking it in half and killing its momentum so that it fell into the chasm. The three others struck the ground outside the orcs’ formation, crushing the human soldiers.

“Aw, come on!” Harruq shouted. On the other side of the Bone Ditch he saw four enormous catapults. About fifty orcs scrambled about them, pulling levers and lifting boulders. Aurelia rushed closer, watching the far side as the orc forces howled with glee.

“We can’t withstand that assault,” Haern said as the elf neared. Aurelia nodded, her gaze still distant.

“You trust me, Harruq?” she asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“Roll when you land,” she said, pushing her palms against his chest. Before he could respond, he felt something sharp ram into his stomach, and then he was flying. He spun about, his arms and legs flailing wildly. Only sheer panic kept his swords clutched tight in his fists. A powerful force of wind continued blowing against his back after he turned, and feeling a strong sense of vertigo, he watched the other side of the chasm approach.

“Roll, just roll,” he muttered, his heart pounding and his legs feeling like water. He glanced back once to see Haern flying after him, a grin on his face. The four catapults fired again, the boulders passing far too close for comfort.

“Woooohooooo!” the assassin shouted at the top of his lungs.

Harruq vowed to kill him if they actually survived the landing.

At least the orcs were as surprised as he was when he tucked his shoulder and barreled through their ranks. He went head over heels three times, rolled along his side twice more, and then jumped up to his feet. Dirt covered his armor, and bits of grass stuck to his hair. The first orc unlucky enough to attack Harruq died in three pieces, completely unprepared for the vicious wrath unleashed upon him. Three more closed in, surrounding the raging half-orc.

Harruq grinned darkly at them.

“I’m not the scary one,” he said.

And then Haern came whirling in, his feet hardly touching the ground before he changed course. His sabers cut around their axes, giving them no time to block or strike. As they fell, Harruq and Haern linked up, standing side by side as the rest of the orcs not manning the catapults turned to fight.

“No reprieve,” Haern said as the orcs charged. “Scare the shit out of them.”

“Will do.”

The two Eschaton met the rush head on, Harruq leading the way. With his magical blades and greater reach, he cut down the first two, then flung his weight into his run. He slammed through them, lacking Haern’s skillful weavings and parries. Instead he flung his opponents aside, tore through their defenses with incredible strength, and emerged coated in blood. Haern followed, his sabers deftly cutting ankles, wrists, and necks. He left a wounded, immobilized force in his wake, his cloaks also soaked. Together they spun, raised their weapons and attacked.

The orcs broke, having already lost half their numbers while hardly incurring a scratch. They were the weak, the ones left behind to build and construct while the warriors traveled with Velixar into Veldaren. Against such skill, they had no chance. Harruq cut down a few before turning back to the catapults. He watched as they unleashed a barrage of four boulders. Two of them halted in midair and fell into the chasm, while the others crashed and rolled through a distant mass of warriors.

“Take the left,” Haern said, sheathing his sabers before breaking out in a sprint. Harruq chased after, veering off as his mentor asked. A couple noticed their approach and shouted, as if in disbelief that they were still alive. Harruq let out a bellow from the pit of his stomach. The orcs had only hammers and ropes for weapons. It was no contest. Harruq gutted one, cut down another, and then slammed his shoulder into a third. The orc flew off the cliff, his scream slowly fading as he fell.

One catapult out of commission, he turned to the second. Its orcs let off one last boulder, then fled. Harruq shrugged and looked for Haern. The assassin had made quick work of his own catapults. Half the orcs were dead, the other half fleeing into the Vile Wedge. Harruq trudged over and then pointed.

“The bridges weren’t for the orc soldiers,” he said. “They were for the catapults.”

“This should slow them for a few weeks,” Haern agreed. “Neither the Green Castle nor Felwood would survive long if the orcs had actual siege weaponry.”

“Let’s hope we bought them a chance, then,” Harruq said. “How’s the battle going over there?”

Haern squinted, trying to make out shapes.

“Looks like the horsemen are running rampant through their lines,” he said. “It will be over soon.”

Sure enough, tiny figures were falling down the chasm, the bodies of hundreds of orcs as they were corralled and pushed to their deaths. When the battle ended, the dead bodies followed after. Harruq and Haern cleaned their weapons and armor as best they could, then waited. Aurelia arrived soon after, riding atop Seleven.

“Enjoy the ride?” she asked as she landed.

“You’re evil,” Harruq said, accepting her offered hand and hopping onto the winged horse’s back.

“So, no?”

The half-orc rolled his eyes as Haern joined them.

“They seem to be getting along all right,” Aurelia shouted as they took flight. “Either way, our time here is done. Tarlak will be waiting for us in Kinamn.”

They swooped over the combined human forces, Aurelia waving. Sir Kull’s men saluted with their blades while the horsemen cheered.

“That’s better than our last greeting,” Harruq said.

“To Kinamn,” Aurelia said, banking Seleven southward.

“Let’s hope Tarlak’s had as much luck as us, eh?” said the half-orc.

It took three days to fly across the Hillock, and when they reached Beaver Lake they stopped again for food and rest. The Bone Hills loomed before them, tall and barren. Nestled against the southern tip of the hills would be Kinamn, capital of Omn and in the very center of the trading paths between what had been the largest and wealthiest nations, Neldar in the east and Mordan in the west.

“Kinamn will be more like Veldaren,” Aurelia said as they lay down for the night. “An expansive city, though not as large. More importantly, it’s far less defended. They have little chance of surviving against Qurrah’s army.

“Velixar’s army,” she corrected. Harruq kissed her cheek and rolled over underneath their blankets. The cold winter night dragged on, silent but for the lapping of the lake against the shore. A lone owl hooted once, then quieted.

Harruq turned about and pulled Aurelia into his arms and held her tight.

“What…” she started to ask, but he stopped her with a kiss. He pressed his forehead against hers. When she stroked his face with her fingertips, she felt tears. She needed no explanation, no excuse. After a quick glance to make sure Haern slept far away by the lake’s bank, she climbed atop her husband.

Afterward, she cuddled him, feeling her body meld with his. His rough hands encircled her waist.

“Forever,” she whispered. “You’ll have me forever.”

“I don’t deserve it,” he whispered back.

“And you never will. But since when did that matter?”

They slept until morning, the winter’s bite held at bay by their warmth.