Weight of Blood

11

Dieredon was stunned by the simple fact that he was awake. He had expected death. He had also expected darkness. Instead, the welcoming light of morning met his eyes when he leaned up and looked around. The elf smiled, then laughed. They had walked right over him but not seen him.

“Thank you, Celestia,” he said, his smile remaining even as the pain in his ribs and shoulder reawakened. The pain, however, paled compared to the previous night. He sat up, still cradling his right arm. A look around showed no sign of Velixar or his undead. The morning continued to improve. The elf pulled out a roll of thick cloth from a knapsack and began bandaging his wounds.

“Aurelia, we need to talk,” Dieredon said while fashioning a sling for his right arm. “Those half-orcs have some very interesting friends.”

He stood, tested the tightness of his bandages, took up his bow, and then headed for town.

H arruq awoke late the next morning. His tired eyes winced as sunshine streamed into them from the ceiling. He covered his face with an arm, moaning against the evils of interrupted sleep. Then he remembered Aurelia.

“Aaah, I’ll be late,” he said. He rubbed his eyes once, and then blinked when he saw his brother leaning against the far wall, waiting for him.

“What will you be late for?” Qurrah asked, his voice hinting only mild curiosity but his eyes revealing otherwise.

“Nothing. Just my practice is all.”

“Indeed. Your practice. I have held my tongue, Harruq, but I will hold it no longer. Your hair is cut. You come back every morning bruised. What is it that you hide from me?”

Harruq lowered his eyes in shame. “It’s not…I didn’t mean anything…”

“What is it, Harruq? Tell me the truth.”

“I…I’ve been training with someone.”

Qurrah crossed his arms. “Who is he?”

The half-orc chuckled.

“She, not he. She saved my life, and she’s also been teaching me to read.”

“How did she save your life?” Qurrah asked.

“Remember a few months back when I came home beaten bloody and blue?” he asked. “Guards caught me trying to sneak inside Maggie’s Tavern. They attacked me, said they were going to arrest me as the Forest Butcher. Aurelia stopped them.”

Qurrah rubbed his chin, lost in thought. He glanced at Harruq, a tiny smile forming on his face.

“May I meet her?”

Harruq immediately began blubbering.

“No, but you see, I don’t know if she’s ready, and you might not…I need to let her know you’re coming first!”

Qurrah chuckled.

“Why do you worry?”

The big half-orc let his gaze drop back down to the floor. “She’s an elf. Is that alright?”

Qurrah walked over and put a hand on Harruq’s shoulder.

“You may be with whoever you wish, my dear brother. Just do not try to deceive me.”

Harruq nodded. “Alright, then you can come this morning. We got to hurry though, or we’ll be late.”

“I am ready,” Qurrah said. “When you are ready, lead on.”

The big half-orc flew about their home, grabbing his old swords and donning his faded leather armor. When ready, he nodded to Qurrah, who let out a rare laugh.

“You are amusing, brother,” was all he said before following him out.

T his is it,” Harruq said as he gestured about the small clearing he and Aurelia sparred in.

“Where is she?” Qurrah asked. Harruq shrugged in response.

“She’s never here. She always shows up after I do.”

The smaller half-orc scanned the area, seeing no sign of the elf.

“Perhaps she is not coming,” Qurrah offered. “You are late, after all. On the other hand, perhaps I scared her off. I do have a creepy aura about me, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Suuuure, Qurrah,” Harruq said, crossing his arms as he waited. “You’re big and scary and send little kiddies running when they see you on the street.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” said a female voice behind the two brothers. “Any man who would hang out with a brute like Harruq must be a disturbed individual.”

Both turned to see Aurelia step out from behind a tree. She smiled at Harruq, and then nodded to his brother.

“Care to introduce me?”

“Oh yeah, this is-”

“Qurrah Tun, my lady,” Qurrah said with a bow that sent Harruq’s jaw dropping. “It is a pleasure to meet you. May I have the name of the one who has brought civility to my brother?”

Aurelia laughed at Harruq’s flabbergasted look.

“I am Aurelia Thyne,” she said, offering a quick curtsy. “And it will take years to civilize that big lug. I’m not sure I have the patience.”

“If your patience matches your beauty then my brother will soon be dressed in nobles’ finest, sipping wine and commenting on the taxing errors of our dear King of Neldar.”

Aurelia blushed. She smiled at Qurrah. “You surprise me. It truly is a pleasure to meet you.”

“And it is a pleasure to meet the elf that my brother is so smitten for.”

Aurelia giggled at Harruq’s squirming. “He’s a loveable puppy dog, but I do not think he is smitten. Are you, Harruq?”

“Um, course not,” the half-orc said. Aurelia and Qurrah shared a quick, knowing smile. The frail half-orc’s face lost much of its lifelessness, and a gentle caring filled his eyes. His seriousness quickly buried it, but Aurelia had seen enough.

“I shall leave you two to your studies and sparring,” Qurrah said after a long pause to torture Harruq. “Although I doubt the wisdom of leaving him alone with such a beautiful teacher.”

“Good thing you will not have to worry about that, considering I see no beautiful teachers around,” Aurelia replied.

Qurrah walked to Aurelia and bowed again, taking her hand in his and kissing it. As Aurelia smiled, he rose and whispered into her ear.

“He loves you, elf. I can feel it. Do you love him back?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

“Will you hurt him?”

“Never.”

“Then accept my blessing.”

Finished, Qurrah bowed once more, wished his brother good luck, and then trudged through the forest toward Woodhaven. When he was out of earshot, Aurelia walked over to Harruq and jabbed him in the side with a finger.

“Now why did you take so long to let me meet him?” she asked.

“I, but, he, but…”

“No buts. He was a perfect gentleman.”

The half-orc threw his arms up in surrender.

“Me just be all stoopid,” he said.

Aurelia twisted her fingers and whispered, causing a magical spring of water to burst up from the ground. The spring vanished quickly as it came, leaving a soaked Harruq glaring at Aurelia.

“Speak properly,” the elf warned, “or another bath for you.”

“Buh, wuh, you,” Harruq stammered.

“Yes, dear Harruq?”

“Nothing,” he grumbled, walking over to her. Before she could react he swooped her off her feet and bear-hugged her, soaking her dress. He then set her down, ignoring her open-palm smacks to the side of his head.

“Stupid half-orc,” she muttered.

“Ready to teach me to read all smarty-like?”

“Yes. Just one second.”

Vines emerged from the woods and wrapped around Harruq’s arms and legs, lifting him off the ground and holding him snugly in place. The elf grinned, crossing her arms over her wet dress.

“Um, why am I hanging from the air like this?” he asked. A spring of water soaked him.

“Felt like it,” she answered.

“Oh. Alright. Should we start?”

“Sure.”

Aurelia took out a small book and levitated it before Harruq, letting him read aloud. Whenever he purposely erred, or took too long on a page, the elf blasted his face with cold water. It was an effective teaching method. When the half-orc finally finished the book, Aurelia let it slowly descend to her hands.

“Why does your brother speak so strangely,” she asked, trying to broach the subject casually. She sat stretched out on the grass, her legs crossed and her weight leaning back on her arms. The whole time they had taught she had found her mind wandering to the sick, spidery voice Qurrah spoke in, a voice that had nearly spoiled his otherwise surprising charm.

“Qurrah was sold to a necromancer. I told you that, right?”

Aurelia nodded. “I believe you did.”

“Well, he caught my brother practicing a spell once. Qurrah was forbidden from ever casting magic, yet he tried anyway. He’s like that, always been, always will. Anyway, his master took a hot poker and shoved it down his throat. Said that way he’d never cast again.”

Harruq chuckled.

“He was wrong, obviously. Qurrah was stuck talking like that. Like a snake hiss or a raspy whisper.”

“Or a dying man,” Aurelia whispered, so soft that Harruq could not make out her words.

“Could you let me down, now?” the half-orc asked. Aurelia shrugged.

“Ready to spar?”

“You bet.”

The elf ordered the vines to release him. Harruq landed with a plop, a drippy mess in stinking leather armor.

“Sparring time,” he said as he rose to his feet.

“I’m ready, water-boy” Aurelia said, taking up her staff and charging.

T he streets were all the same to him so down them all he wandered. The image of Aurelia and Harruq danced in his mind, and conflicting feelings tore up and down his chest.

“She seems a kind enough elf,” Qurrah said, talking to himself since he had no one else. “Beautiful as well. Of course Harruq would be attracted to her. We have elven blood in our veins, do we not?”

The words felt hollow against the constant ache in his heart. Hard as he tried, he could not place it. Was it anger? No. Surprise? A little, perhaps. Jealousy? Certainly not. Worry? Fear? Doubt?

The only emotion he was certain of was confusion. So he walked, and would walk for the rest of the morning, wishing there was something he could do to banish the sick, hollow feeling in his stomach. There was nothing he knew to do, though, and that made it so much worse.

T heir sparring ended, Harruq and Aurelia sat side-by-side against a tree, both glistening with sweat.

“Getting better,” the half-orc said. “You’re going to be beating the orcy out of me in a few weeks if you keep learning as fast as you are.”

“Don’t worry,” she said, patting his hand. “Your orcy is safe with me.”

Harruq laughed at the absurdity of what she said. Aurelia, meanwhile, absently drew lines in the dirt. He watched for a moment, suddenly nervous and quiet. The words of his brother echoed in his head.

“Aurry?” he asked. “You said most elves remember when men were created…do you know how orcs were made?”

The elf looked at him. She was trying to read him, Harruq could tell, but he endured it without protest.

“When Ashhur and Karak warred, there were elves that sought to end their war,” she said. “Against Celestia’s orders, they joined Karak, hoping with their aid the conflict would finally end. When our goddess imprisoned the two gods, she cursed those elves. She stripped them of their beauty, their intelligence, and their long life. They weren’t evil, Harruq, but Karak offered them strength and they accepted it. The dark god drove them to war against elves and men. Finally the orcs were banished to the Vile Wedge between the rivers.”

“Do any still worship Karak?”

“Most don’t,” Aurelia said. “They’ve turned to worshipping animals now. I’ve even heard of some worshipping Celestia once more, hoping she will forgive them and remove their curse. They are a sad race, Harruq, but believe me in saying there is no shame in your blood.”

The half-orc shifted uncomfortably, unable to meet Aurelia’s eyes. He watched her trace lines in the grass. Seeking a way to lighten the mood, he asked her how to spell his name.

“Harruq?” she asked. “Hrm. My best guess would be H-a-r-r-u-k.”

A soft blow of air from her lips turned the grass to dirt so that a large space lay available for her to write on. She wrote ‘Harruk’ in the dirt with her finger, spacing out each letter. Harruq stared at the words representing his name, feeling a tiny thrill.

“How about my last name, Tun?”

She wrote out T-u-n. The half-orc stared, absorbing every detail of his name.

“Can I see your name?” he asked. Aurelia nodded, tracing her hand across the dirt.

“A-u-r-e-l-i-a.”

The half-orc smiled at the name.

“It even looks all pretty,” he said, eliciting a laugh. “Do Qurrah now.”

Aurelia did not begin writing immediately, instead thinking over the pronunciation.

“Qurrah,” she said at last. “It is a little tricky, but I bet it is spelled like this.”

Letter by letter she wrote ‘Qurrah’ in the dirt. Harruq stared at it, whispering his brother’s name as his eyes traced the letters. As he did, a thought hit him. His eyes went back and forth from his own name and Qurrah’s.

“You spelled my name wrong,” Harruq said.

“What? How?”

The half-orc reached over, erased the k in his name and drew a clumsy, capitalized Q at the end. He leaned back and smiled. The name in the dirt now read ‘HarruQ’.

“Why did you change it?” she asked. “It’s a rather odd spelling.”

“Look at my brother’s name,” he said. Aurelia did, and then she saw what Harruq had also seen.

“Your name is your brother’s, only backwards.”

“Yup,” Harruq laughed. “Mum was always smart for an orc. Even knew how to read, if you believe that. Bet she did that on purpose.”

“Yes, but why?”

Harruq shrugged. “Thought she was being clever? Who knows, but I can spell my name now!”

“Good for you,” Aurelia laughed. “Now go on home, you bother me. And you smell.”

“Well fine then,” the half-orc said, feigning insult. “Me know when me no wanted.”

Such a purposeful use of poor grammar could not go unpunished. Harruq dodged the first two springs of water but the third one caught him square in the face. He was still dripping when he arrived home.

“You and her go swimming?” Qurrah asked him.

“Shaddup,” was all he said.

Qurrah laughed. The pit in his stomach suddenly didn’t seem so awful.

A urelia!” Dieredon screamed to the wilderness. Birds whistled back, but no elven voice spoke back.

“Aurelia!” he shouted again, wincing at the pain in his chest. After arriving in town, he had found one of his stashed healing potions and downed it. His ribs had gone from several pieces to just a single break, and his shoulder was slowly regaining strength. It would still be days before he was back to full health, days he did not have to spare.

“I’m here,” Aurelia said after the third yell from Dieredon. The elf turned and smiled at her even though she winced and moved to examine his arm, which remained in a sling.

“They are nothing,” he told her. “Please, you must listen to me. Stay away from the half-orcs. They aren’t safe.”

“Nonsense,” she said. She guided a hand across his chest, feeling the break. Her hand then traveled to his shoulder, and a deep frown grew across her face.

“What did this to you?” she asked.

“The man in black, the one continuing to train the half-orcs. I approached him last night. He nearly killed me.”

“Harruq is no threat to me,” Aurelia insisted. “And I have met Qurrah. He showed me nothing but kindness.”

“Then it is a false kindness,” Dieredon said. He paused for a moment, grabbed his chest with his healthy arm, and then looked up at her again. Pain was evident in his eyes.

“That man has an army of undead. I barely managed to hide until daylight. Woodhaven is in danger, and so are you.”

Aurelia stepped back, frowning.

“Are you sure it was Harruq?”

“I saw the warrior with my own eyes. I ignored them and went after the master, just as you asked.” He gestured to his wounds. “You can see my reward. I could not kill him. There are very few I cannot kill, Aurelia, and I do not appreciate adding another to that list.”

“I will still see him,” Aurelia said. “I will be careful, but I will still see him. He needs me. I know it.”

Dieredon gave a one-shoulder shrug.

“Very well. I will trust you, Aurelia.”

He turned to go. Aurelia grabbed his hand and stopped him.

“Where will you go?”

The elf glanced back to her.

“War is coming. I must alert my kin. If this man and his army do attack Woodhaven, he will find the Quellan army descending upon him from the sky. Besides, I have been separated from Sonowin far too long. I miss her.”

Aurelia smiled for the first since she had seen Dieredon.

“I am surprised you have gone so long without retrieving her,” Aurelia said. “She is a beautiful horse. I wish to see her when you return.”

“I promise,” Dieredon said. Aurelia released his hand.

“May Celestia watch over you,” she said as he left.

“And she over you,” Dieredon replied. Then he was gone, through the forest and back into town. There he bought a sturdy horse and began his long ride south to the Quellan forest.

I t is a beautiful blade,” Harruq said, examining the elven weapon that had belonged to Ahrqur. They were killing the final hour before dark. Then they would hoist the wrapped body onto Harruq’s shoulder and sneak out of town. Qurrah sat meditating in a corner while Harruq yammered to himself. The blade was in one hand, the decorative scabbard in the other.

“He was a skilled swordsman,” Qurrah said. “He was also arrogant. I would expect such a blade from one like him.”

Harruq shrugged. “If I didn’t have my own two swords, I’d use it.”

The half-orc cut the blade through the air a few times and then sheathed it. He turned the weapon over in his hands, marveling at the swimming colors of dark green and black. He paused when he found a name written in gold near the hilt.

“Tun’del,” Harruq read aloud, slowly and carefully. “He even has his name on his sword.”

“Did I not say he was arrogant?”

Harruq stared at the name on the scabbard, mesmerized by the beauty of the writing. He ran his fingers over it, enjoying the feeling of pure gold. When he covered the second half, he paused.

“Qurrah,” Harruq said. “Look at this.”

The bigger half-orc shifted the blade so that his brother could see. He kept his hand where it was. Qurrah read the name, and then glanced at his brother.

“That is our last name.”

Harruq nodded.

“Aurelia showed me. T, u, n, she said. And then this sword here has our name…kind of.”

Qurrah stared at the name, thinking.

“He was an elf,” he said. “I guess it is possible he was our father, although I feel it more likely a coincidence. Our mother was intelligent, at least for an orc, but was she smart enough to leave us clues within our own names?”

“Well, he’s dead now, so we’ll never know,” Harruq said, tossing the blade onto the floor. Qurrah, however, was far from dismayed. He grinned at his brother and then spoke in his hissing voice.

“Would you like to have a conversation with our dear old dad?” he asked.