David Dalglish - The Shadows of Grace

“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.”