The Shadows of Grace (14 page)

“Lead on,” he said. When he was gone, Harruq glanced to Aurelia, who only shrugged.

“There is more going on here,” Ceredon said, turning away from them and walking back to his guards. “Isn’t that right, Lady Thyne?”

“Karak’s servants have taken the city,” Aurelia said. “And forgive me, but it is Tun, not Thyne.”

She grabbed Harruq’s hand and squeezed it tight. Harruq held on, his eyes bouncing between the two elves.

“Tun,” Ceredon said. “Such an ugly name. You fight alongside these humans?”

“I do,” she answered.

“After the sacrifice your parents made?” Ceredon asked. “After their blood, their magic, and their lives, you marry a man of orc blood and side with men who took their lives?”

“My life is my own,” Aurelia said.

“And your parents' honor is theirs. I miss them greatly, Lady Thyne. But for you to arrive married to cursed blood is an insult I am almost tempted to rectify.”

“Am I missing something?” Tarlak asked.

“No,” Aurelia said, shaking her head. “I will not listen to this. Forgive me, Neyvar, but I was there. I suffered in the cold. I journeyed with our people, not you. I can forgive who I wish, love who I wish, and I bring dishonor to my father and mother only in the eyes of those blinded by hatred.”

Tarlak’s mouth hung open. Guards moved to grab her and Harruq, but Ceredon waved them off.

“She has always carried a reputation of a fiery spirit,” he told them. “Leave her be. So Karak has destroyed the city of humans. So be it. It is not our matter, the quarreling between the brother gods.”

“But it is,” Antonil said. “For we have failed what we were always sworn to protect.”

At these words Ceredon stopped. His eyes narrowed, and his hand clenched the hilt of his sword.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“The portal’s been reopened,” Tarlak said. “War demons flood into this world. Celestia’s protection is broken. Even your people are no longer safe.”

The elderly elf stared, his upper lip quivering with anger. Before he could respond, a messenger arrived, announcing the arrival of an honored guest. Aurelia visibly brightened as Dieredon followed, his bow slung on his back. He seemed surprised by their presence but hid it well.

“It is as we feared,” Dieredon said after bowing. “Orcs swarm north and west from Veldaren. Soldiers in crimson armor bearing the yellow fist have appeared, hailing from no known nation. Karak’s hand, I am sure of it.”

“Leave us,” Ceredon said to the visitors. “I will decide soon. You will be given accommodations until then.”

The guards escorted them out, leaving Dieredon and Ceredon alone in the great hall. Ceredon drew his sword, spun in a blinding whir of steel, and then thrust it into the stone floor. The loud crack echoed from wall to wall.

“They’ve doomed this world,” Ceredon said. “All through the frailty of human flesh.”

“It is my fault,” Dieredon said. “I should have tracked their assault. I thought the orcs’ numbers too small. Karak’s prophet rallied not just orcs, though. Bird-men, wolf-men, hyena-men, all under his banner.”

“Our priests talk of Celestia’s daughters,” Ceredon said. “They say two of them walk this land. What is happening, friend? How did we fail so miserably?”

“We failed because of inaction,” Dieredon said. “We failed because we have always watched, always waited, and always judged the cost. Give me the might of the Ekreissar. We can assault while their army is unaware.”

“You are rash and bloodthirsty,” Ceredon said, shaking his head. “I will not send so many valiant elves to die in vain. If you’d aid the humans, then go with them. Fight at their side. I will not stop you.”

“It is not that easy.”

“It never is, nor should it be.” Ceredon yanked his sword free. “We have lost much because of their hatred and fear.”

“Are we so free of it ourselves?” Dieredon asked. The words hung in the air amid a heavy silence.

“Give them food and blankets,” Ceredon said. “Travel with their king. As for our troops…”

The Neyvar sheathed his sword. “If war approaches then I will protect our home. Send word to Nellassar of what has happened. We must all prepare.”

The elderly elf turned and left. Alone, Dieredon cursed to the ceiling before storming after.

“
W
hat was that all about?” Harruq asked after they’d been relocated to their lodgings. They had been given three rooms, Deathmask by his lonesome, Antonil and Tarlak in a second, Harruq and Aurelia the third.

“It’s nothing,” Aurelia said, leaning her staff against the bed. “Just ancient history.”

“Doesn’t sound so ancient to me,” Harruq said. “Who were your parents? What did Ceredon mean by all of that?”

Aurelia sat on the bed, her face turned away from him. Her long hair masked her features, but Harruq could still see the faint edges of a frown on her delicate face.

“Is it really that important?” she asked.

Harruq winced, hurt by the tone. He started the lengthy process of undoing the buckles of his armor, pointedly putting his back to her.

“You hardly talk about your past,” he said. “Every time I bring it up, you brush me aside. You’re my wife, hon, and if you’re hurting because of it, I want to know. I want to help you…”

Soft hands grabbed his own, halting his harsh tugging at the leather straps. He felt Aurelia lean her head against his shoulder.

“I was still young, for an elf,” she said. “Everywhere we went, the fires followed. Forests, grasslands, even the deep caves filled with smoke and ash. King Baedan knew we would win a war of soldiers, but our homes…”

She wrapped her arms tight about him.

“I killed so many. They didn’t send soldiers, but farmers, hungry vagabonds, even criminals. They gave them torches and oil and let them burn. It had been a dry summer, Harruq. I’m not sure you’ve ever seen how fast a forest can burn, but I have. Breathtaking, and horrifying.”

Harruq turned around, his hands encircling her waist. She refused to meet his gaze, but that was fine with him. He could see the tears in her eyes, her haunted face a thousand memories away.

“At last we fled, thousands of us. Dezerea, our beloved home, was ash. And that was when King Baedan finally ordered in his troops. He didn’t want us gone, he wanted us dead, never to return. Hundreds of horseman crashed through our ranks. We’d kill them, but they’d be replaced by hundreds more. At last we made it to the Corinth River, the border between Mordan and Ker.”

Harruq gently guided his wife to the bed, where the two sat side by side, his arm over her shoulder. She tilted her head against him. He could hardly believe the sadness he felt pouring out of her. How long had he been completely unaware?

“What about your parents?” he asked when her silence stretched so long he thought she might not continue.

“Magic in elves is heavily based on bloodline, not trained like with humans,” Aurelia said with a sigh. “If either parent could cast spells, so could the child. We were never numerous, just enough to watch over nature and guide her growth. My parents were both casters, the strongest of our race. When we reached the Corinth Bridge, they demanded to stay behind along with eight others. We knew Baedan would have his troops follow us, no matter how far we fled. His entire army marched after us, ten thousand strong. Against those ten thousand, my parents made their stand.”

“Ten against ten thousand?” Harruq said. “No matter how strong they were, they had to know…”

“They did.” Aurelia said. “They knew. And they crushed more than two thousand soldiers before they fell, and slowed down their movements for days. It was enough for us to get away, to find our new home.” She sniffed. “They renamed it the Bloodbrick Bridge afterward. I wanted to stay, nearly demanded it, but they refused. I was one of the few remaining with the touch of magic. They thought it my duty to preserve it.”

Harruq hugged her as she fell silent once more. Her breathing turned slow and heavy, and he knew she was struggling to hold back tears.

“Their names?” he asked. “What were your parents’ names?”

“Kindren Thyne was my father’s name,” she said. “And Aullienna was my mother’s.”

At the sound of that name she broke, clutching at Harruq with a desperate strength as she sobbed. Harruq held her, tears in his own eyes.

“It’s been a long year,” he said. “But we’ll make it, Aurry, we’ll make it.”

“I miss our baby so much,” Aurelia said. “How she laughed, how she walked, how she, how she…”

She couldn’t finish. Too many memories, so many of them good. The way little Aullienna cried, the way she crawled, the way she giggled every morning inside her crib, as if her entire world lit up at the sight of her mother. All lost. All stolen by a cold stream and Qurrah’s madness.

“I miss her too,” Harruq said. “But we’ll be all right.”

Deep inside, he hoped that was true.

T
arlak muttered as he heard someone calling his name.
Too early,
he thought.
Way too early.

“Wake up. Six hours is more than enough sleep,” Dieredon said, nudging the mage with his bow.

“For you maybe,” Tarlak grumbled, burying his face in a pillow. “What do you want?” he asked.

“My scouts have returned from all corners of Neldar,” Dieredon said, jabbing Tarlak harder. The wizard looked up and glared with bloodshot eyes.

“Fascinating,” he said. “Tell me later.”

“Orcs march from Veldaren carrying the banner of Karak, but they do not chase after your refugees. There are several castles that might stand against them, if spurred into action. Both Kinamn and the Green Castle might prove powerful enough if warned in time. At worst, they must flee west with the rest of the Neldaren people.”

Tarlak sat up in his bed, rubbing his eyes with his forefingers.

“What does this have to do with me?” he asked.

“I am Scoutmaster of the Quellan elves,” Dieredon said. “It is my duty to contain the orcs at all cost. But I cannot be in two places at once. Lend me your Eschaton. We can sound the alarm, and perhaps strike down many of the orcs before they can reinforce from the Vile Wedge.”

“What of my people?” Antonil asked, having been awake the entire time. Dieredon shrugged.

“Neyvar Sinistel will give them food, blankets and means for shelter. It will take a day or two to prepare, but you are weeks of travel ahead of the war demons. They will be fine without the Eschaton.”

“Much as I’d like to rest,” Tarlak said, “I find it hard to turn down a chance to get back at those who destroyed my home. When do we leave?”

“Now,” Dieredon said. “Wake the others. I will escort you back to your camp, and then we will be off.”

“Yes sir, boss elf, sir,” Tarlak said, offering a sleepy, off-balanced bow.

Dieredon left with a sigh.

As Tarlak prepared, Antonil stood and stretched, showing a bit of life that hadn’t been there the night before.

“They will help us,” he said. “Praise Ashhur, they’ll help us.”

“Try not to get too excited,” Tarlak said. “It’s just some food and blankets. They’re not going to war to protect us. They’re not offering escorts or troops.”

“They’re offering aid,” Antonil said, strapping on his belt and sword. “For now, that is enough.”

“I’ll go wake the others,” Tarlak said. “Let’s get the fun started!”

D
ieredon didn’t bother with the twisting, looping pathways out of the forest. Instead, he led them in a straight path that took them directly to their camp.

“Ready your Eschaton,” he told them. “We leave in one hour.”

At the sight of their return, people swarmed toward them. With a bit of help from Tarlak, Antonil levitated into the air and spoke with a magically-enhanced voice.

“People of Neldar!” he shouted. “The elves will aid us! They will give us food and blankets as we travel west. We will not give up, and we will not surrender to the demons that give chase. Hold fast! Hope still lives!”

All around, hope kindled, weak but growing.

“Good speech, nice and short,” Tarlak said as he levitated Antonil back to the ground.

“Never been one for long speeches,” the king said.

The Eschaton and the Ash Guild met together shortly after, with Tarlak discussing Dieredon’s plan.

“Let me make sure everyone understands this,” Deathmask said after Tarlak was done. “This elf wants to send us to where we just came from, to the Green Castle tucked between the Kingstrip and the Vile Wedge, hopelessly surrounded by enemies?”

“Well, I’d prefer a bit cheerier spin on it than that, but yeah, that’s the idea,” Tarlak said.

“We’re all exhausted,” Harruq said. “This really a good idea?”

“If we can save more lives, we must,” Lathaar said. “I don’t see much of a choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” Deathmask said. “Whether you wish there is or not. We put everyone here at risk if we leave. We are followed by winged armies. How fast might they reach us?”

“Pretty risky leaving,” Mier said.