David Dalglish - A Sliver of Redemption

He ripped rib bones from a nearby body and flung them through the king’s eyes. The man convulsed for a moment, then lay still.

“You were a fool to abandon us,” Velixar said. “I must say, I never expected such weakness. From your brother, perhaps, but never from you. And those robes? White? Is this a joke, Qurrah? Do you really think they accepted you? You were a pawn for their defense, nothing more. It is easier to have you as a friend than an enemy.”

Qurrah chuckled, but his grim laughter died when he looked past Velixar to Tessanna. Their eyes met. Tessanna felt her heart flutter, and Velixar’s grip tightened on her wrist.

“Don’t,” she said, but it didn’t matter. He flung her to her knees and shoved a dagger into her hand.

“You know what you must do,” he hissed into her ear. “He has abandoned you, and he has abandoned me. There is no place for him in Karak’s world. Cut his throat. Spill his life across your hands. There was a time you reveled in the sight of blood. Remember that. Become that same beautiful creature once more.”

She looked at Qurrah. A thousand emotions swirled within her breast. She thought of his bitter words to her for sleeping with Jerico. She thought of the times they’d shared alone, their lovemaking vicious and desperate. They’d clung to each other through the most horrible of tragedies, and she’d clawed his chest when Aullienna died. There had to be good times, though, moments of sun and warmth. That time by the rose, they’d declared each other husband and wife, more than lovers. Had they lived up to such a promise? Who was she to judge? She’d let Thulos into the world, dooming them all, and why? Because she’d been hurt? Because she wanted to punish Qurrah?

He was looking at her, and when she looked back, something in his eyes quivered. What did he think of her? Could he forgive her? Could she forgive him? What madness had separated them? What dire need had broken them? The dagger in her hand, could she do it? She couldn’t. She couldn’t!

“I’m sorry,” Qurrah whispered. “For everything.”

Tears ran down her face, and his too. She clutched the dagger so tight her knuckles turned white.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” she said.

“I know.”

“I’ve missed you so much.”

“So have I.”

“I love you, Qurrah.”

“I love you too, Tess.”

She tried to drop the dagger, but then Velixar was there. His hand was ice, and it was strong. He pushed forward, and she fought, she screamed, but in went the blade. It pierced through his ribs and into his heart. He gasped once, then fell to the side. Blood spilled across her hands. His blood. Qurrah’s blood.

He said something in his raspy voice. She leaned closer, clutching his white robes now stained red.

“…not mad…” he said. “Not…I’m not mad. Tess…”

She shrieked as he died. His body went still. No breath. No life.

“Please,” she sobbed, beating her hands against his chest. “Please, no, I’m sorry! Please, Qurrah, I’m so sorry! Don’t leave me alone, I don’t want to be alone. I can’t. I can’t, please…”

She felt Velixar towering over her, lurking like the damned reaper-man he was.

“You sick fuck!” she screamed. “I hope you burn!”

She tried to stab him, but he slapped the dagger aside. It skidded off the side of the bridge and vanished. Her flailing did nothing to him, but she kicked and clawed anyway until he grabbed her wrists and held her back.

“He deserved nothing less,” he said to her.

“How could you?” she asked amid her hysterical sobs. “How could you make me? Put his blood on your own hands, you damn coward! Your hands! Your guilt!”

The words seemed to sting him, and he let her drop. The bridge was slick underneath her feet, but she crawled toward the body of her lover and put his head in her lap. Gently she stroked his face, smearing blood across his forehead. Her tears fell down, mixing with the blood. She looked up at Velixar, who watched the display as if torn.

“He was better than you will ever be,” she said. “I felt it when I held your damn portal open.”

One of the war demons landed beside Velixar. He gave her a strange glance, then dismissed her.

“A third of my soldiers,” the demon said. “I send them under cover of darkness like you insist, and I lose a third!”

“And I lost nearly every single one of my undead, and half the mercenaries and men of Felwood!” Velixar shouted back. “Are you happy now, Myann? Thulos will have both our heads, all because you wouldn’t crush them when the battle first started.”

“The blame is on your head, not mine,” Myann said. He flew away, crimson feathers floating in the air after his departure.

Tessanna fled, wanting to be anywhere else, to think of anything else. She thought he’d follow, but Velixar remained behind. For a moment she thought he was as broken as she was, but that seemed impossible. She felt apathy sliding over her, returning like an old friend, and she welcomed it.

V elixar knelt beside the body, a strange stirring in his soul. He’d killed thousands before. He’d even felt regret, such as when he’d sacrificed Harruq’s daughter to reveal the brother’s true loyalties to Qurrah. But this was different from them all. Kneeling before Qurrah’s body, he felt a complete and total failure.

“You were my greatest disciple,” Velixar whispered as he carved runes into stones with his forefinger, which glowed red with fire. He’d taken the body and with tenderness surprising even to himself, set it down to the cold earth beyond the bridge. “How is it you fell so far? And how is it that I never saw it until now?”

He did his best to put Tessanna out of his mind. He’d broken her, perhaps worse than she’d ever been broken. The separation should have lessened her hurt. Qurrah’s betrayal and anger should have been enough for her to realize how inferior he’d been at the end. But whose fault was that? Who had let such a promising disciple become nothing but an enemy? He’d spent hours tormenting Jerico, revealing his lies, proving his faith false. Yet he’d failed. His war was not just for land, for gods, but for the souls themselves. Tessanna refused him. Jerico denied him. And Qurrah betrayed him.

Failure after failure after failure.

He wouldn’t fail this time. When he’d first found the two brothers, he’d told Karak that Ashhur had made his greatest failure in letting them fall into his hands. Yet who had them now?

“Ashhur will not keep you,” he said as he put down the last stone. “You are not his. Your soul belongs to me, Qurrah. To me it was promised, to Karak it was sworn. You won’t escape this. You won’t deny what you know is true. I don’t know what you were told that made you change your allegiance. I don’t know the promises and lies of your brother, or what sentimentality stayed either of your hands.”

He sensed someone approaching but kept his eyes focused on the body.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he heard Tessanna say.

“You never know your own thoughts. How could you know mine?”

Tessanna sat opposite him, and she let a hand rest atop Qurrah’s cold chest. Most were disturbed by corpses, but Velixar shouldn’t have been surprised that Tessanna would not be upset by their touch…

“I know because it is written on your face, and on these runes,” she said. “Why must you do this? What do you hope to gain?”

“I failed Qurrah in life,” he said. “I will rectify that failure. Help me, or leave me be.”

“He will only be a puppet, a lifeless shell of who he was. You rectify nothing.”

He glared at her. She looked haggard and tired, dark circles making her face look sunken and hollow.