David Dalglish - The Shadows of Grace

Harruq nodded.

“You were scared out of your mind,” Aurelia said, and she smiled again. “But you stayed. You changed. Don’t punish yourself over what you’ve done. No matter what, I love you. And no matter what Qurrah does, I’ll love you. And no matter what happens to this whole blasted world, I’m still going to love you.”

Harruq chuckled, embarrassed and ashamed and tired. He held her tight, his hands lost in her hair, his wet cheeks pressed against her neck.

“I think that’ll be enough,” he said. “Just don’t leave me, all right?”

“How could I leave such a mopey half-orc?” Aurelia said, kissing him once more. “Now let’s go. We need to make sure those two stupid lords and knights get the right message out of here.”

They returned to Haern, who stood waiting by Seleven. He watched the south, and when they neared, he pointed.

“I believe that’s Sir Kull,” he said. “They’re moving like someone’s lashing their backs with whips, so Lord Sully must not be too far behind.”

“Are they heading this way?” Harruq asked.

“Looks like it,” Haern said. “The smoke has drawn their attention.”

“Let’s wait for them,” Aurelia said. “But away from here. The smell turns my stomach.”

They rode Seleven a quarter mile south and waited. When Sir Kull’s army neared, the three Eschaton expected their customary greeting. They weren’t disappointed. Soldiers surrounded them, weapons drawn.

“You’ve led us on a merry chase,” Sir Kull said once he arrived. “Lord Sully stalks us even now, and the northern hills are still days away. And what of the smoke in the distance? Do you play games with us, elf?”

Aurelia shook her head, clearly having no patience for such banter.

“You’ll see it with your own eyes,” she said. “Your land is in dire peril. But my words will mean nothing. Go see. Ride ahead on a horse if you must.”

“I will not flee into an ambush,” the knight said.

“Then bring the whole army,” Harruq said. “Hope they have strong stomachs.”

Sir Kull glared but did not respond.

“Come with us,” he said. “Let us see what game you play.”

Aurelia glanced to the others, who merely shrugged.

“Very well,” she said. “Lead on.”

They traveled in relative silence, talking only when asked a question pertaining to what they knew of Lord Sully and his movements. Seleven trotted behind them, and Harruq figured the horse glad to stretch his legs instead of his wings. All around them, soldiers in armor huffed and puffed, their eyes drooping and their faces ragged. If it came to battle, he doubted they’d be up for a fight. Slowly the smoke cloud neared, until those in the front could see its source.

“Auchby’s been attacked!” shouted one of the soldiers. The cry traveled through the army.

“Auchby?” they shouted. “Auchby burns!”

Sir Kull grabbed Aurelia’s wrist and yanked her close.

“What part did you play in this?” he asked. Harruq was there immediately, ignoring the swords that pointed toward his neck.

“Let go or lose the hand,” the half-orc growled.

The knight paused a moment, then let go.

“I would never have part in something so vile,” Aurelia said. “We’re here to help, but to do that, you people of the Hillock must first open your eyes.”

The men marched on, a bit of urgency returning to their step. The path they took led them between two thick hills, and at the end of its curve they arrived at the massacred town of Auchby. The Eschaton remained on the outskirts as, wide-eyed and horrified, Sir Kull’s army slowly spread throughout the remains.

“Watch your tongues,” Aurelia told them as they waited. “We’re walking on thin branches.”

“Above hungry lions,” Harruq added.

“The analogy worked well enough without your help,” Haern said.

The half-orc shrugged.

After ten minutes, Sir Kull returned, flanked by six of his men.

“Orcs did this,” he said. “How long have you known?”

“We came to warn Lord Sully,” Aurelia said, watching the knight closely. “He would hear none of our warning. When we came to you, we doubted any better a result. So we’ve brought you both north. As for this village, we found out only this morning.”

Sir Kull’s hand drifted down to his sword, and Harruq tensed in case he drew it from its sheath. Haern was already swaying, his hands hidden underneath his cloaks.

“Who loosed the orcs upon the east?” Sir Kull asked. “When did this happen? We’ve heard only outlandish rumors of Veldaren’s fall at their hand. Never once did we take them seriously.”

“They’re real,” Aurelia said. “The orcs crossed the Bone Ditch, and will do so again. They must have a bridge. If we can destroy it, there might be a chance to protect your Hillock, for a time.”

Sir Kull looked south.

“Richard will be here soon. We’ll set up formations beside the village. If he wants to fight amid his own people’s dead, then so be it. The Hillock will be better without him.”

Sir Kull saluted and left.

“Aren’t we messengers of doom,” Haern said, throwing back his cloaks and halting his rhythmic swaying.

“Not much good news to spread lately,” Harruq muttered.

“Let’s go,” Aurelia said. “I’d be shocked if Lord Sully desires to fight after seeing this. We have a bridge to find.”

She whistled, and Seleven trotted over. The Eschaton climbed atop her back and took to the sky. They flew westward, the smoke fading behind them. Harruq looked back, watching for a long time before turning away.

T he sight of the Bone Ditch nearly unhinged Harruq’s jaw from his face. Noticing this, Aurelia asked Seleven to fly lower, directly into its center. Stretching hundreds of feet from side to side, the giant chasm made them seem puny and insignificant. Far below them ran the Rigon River, making its way south across Dezrel. The rock was red and brown, the cliffs sheer. All along the bottom were untold numbers of bones. The creatures of the Vile Wedge had long used the chasm as both a burial ground and an execution method, and it was their name for it that eventually stuck.

“No wonder the orcs can’t get across,” Harruq shouted. “You really think they can build a bridge long enough?”

“It’s been done before!” Aurelia cried.

They swooped higher and followed the Bone Ditch north. Harruq leaned over to one side and watched the chasm twist and curl below them. Sometimes the sides narrowed together, and sometimes they spread wide, but at no point did they seem within even a hundred yards. At no point could he imagine a bridge long enough to span the distance.

And then he saw it.

Hundreds of orcs lined both sides, scurrying like an army of ants. Cut logs and planks were stacked on either side. They hurried about, weaving ropes, smoothing boards, and hacking into the rock. Seleven dipped low, swooping underneath the bridge. Below it were more orcs, hanging from ropes and hammering into the rock to create supports. Ropes had spanned the narrow area, almost two hundred yards in length. So far the middle was empty, just a gap between the supports. Given the work going on, it looked to be finished within days.

At their passing, the orcs shouted and pointed, and a few hurled their hammers or nails, to no avail. Seleven banked higher and out of range of any projectile the orcs might use.

“What do we do now?” Harruq asked.

Aurelia glanced back and winked. Seleven spun them around, and from high above Aurelia closed her eyes to concentrate. Fire burst from her fingers. As they flew overhead, she hurled seven fireballs toward the bridge. Each ball erupted in a great explosion of flame, shattering supports, charring the rope, and destroying the wood planks. They banked around a second time as the bridge collapsed and fell into the chasm amid howls of fury.