David Dalglish - The Shadows of Grace

“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.