David Dalglish - The Death of Promises

Harruq raised an eyebrow at him.

“Alright fine,” Tarlak said. “You know me too well. Extremities dismembered. Hands were sewn onto his face, palms covering his eyes. Tongue gone. Bowels burned. Oh, and the neatest carving on his chest. They made some skull out of twisted skin and bruises…”

“Enough,” Delysia said, standing and holding her fingers against her chest. “Please, enough.”

“Sure thing, sis,” Tarlak said. He tipped his hat to the half-orc. “Get better. Tonight’s going to be another long one, and like I say, no rest for the orcish.”

“Thought it was no rest for the short?” Harruq said, immediately regretting it.

“Yeah,” the mage said, a pall coming over his cheery attitude at reference to the former member Brug. “Well, no shorties around to keep going, so got to deprive someone of rest, right?”

Harruq did not respond.

“He doesn’t blame you,” Delysia said once Tarlak had left the room.

“He should,” the half-orc muttered.

“You are not your brother,” she insisted, gently running a hand down his wounded back. “And you are not responsible for him or the company he keeps. Even if you were, Ashhur preaches forgiveness.”

The priestess left, not expecting a reply. She was right.

T he rest of the Eschaton gathered around the fireplace on the first floor of the tower, drinking magically conjured drinks and discussing the previous night.

“Three bodies,” Haern said, shaking his head and staring at the fire. “They’re taunting us. No other explanation.”

“Escalation does not mean taunting,” Tarlak said as he came down the stairs. “Though it very well may be.”

“When Antonil asked us to help patrol, it was a single body found every three days,” Haern argued. “That night, and every night after, we have found a body for each night. They know we’re looking.”

“They?” Aurelia asked. She was seated in a luxurious red chair with a blanket over her. She took another sip of a hot brown drink that was deliciously sweet.

“That many bodies can’t be one man,” the wizard said. “And I still swear the priests of Karak are doing this.”

Delysia came down the stairs looking pallid and exhausted. Her brother tossed a blanket around her shoulders and led her to a cushion beside Aurelia.

“He’ll be fine,” she said. “Whatever cut him was far from clean, but I think he’ll…” She stopped, a spell of dizziness taking away her words.

“Thank you,” Aurelia said. Delysia smiled.

“What if it is the priests,” Haern said, his tone softer, more dangerous. “Will we finally strike at their heart?”

The women glanced to Tarlak, who sighed and began to explain.

“The priests have a hidden temple inside Veldaren. Very, very powerful spells hide its appearance, mask the evil energy within, and deny any attempts to scry its location. Supposedly it will reveal itself only to those who seek Karak’s favor.”

Aurelia leaned forward, suddenly very interested.

“But you know where it is,” she said. “Somehow you found it.”

Tarlak glanced to Haern.

“Not found,” Haern said. “I have been inside its walls. The Spider Guild did not take kindly to my faith in Ashhur.”

Delysia winced. She and Haern had spent many nights conversing underneath the stars. Haern had been a trained killer since birth, and so the opportunity to speak and think without fear of judgment or punishment had proven addictive. One night the members of the Spider Guild had assaulted them, dragging Haern toward the temple of Karak while leaving Delysia for dead.

“They thought to purge me of my belief,” Haern continued. Old wounds drained the life from his eyes. “I memorized the way, and I will never forget that building, both the illusion and its true form.”

“Then we tell the guards,” Aurelia said. “The priests of Karak are forbidden from the city. Once King Vaelor hears of an entire temple he’ll…”

“He’ll do nothing,” Tarlak said. “Because he already knows. Every king is informed on the first night they take the throne. They’re also told, in no uncertain terms, that they will die should they try to remove the priests from the capital.”

“How do you know this?” Aurelia asked. Tarlak feigned shock and insult.

“Why, because I’m a wizard, of course. I’m supposed to know these things.”

“The temple’s existence is common knowledge to the upper members of Veldaren,” Haern explained. “The priests focus their attention on the wealthy, and gain safety and power through them. The priests of Karak bring only the most faithful and rich to their temple, and even then they bring them blindfolded.”

“Why don’t the priests of Ashhur do something about it?” Aurelia asked.

“Open warfare on the streets?” Tarlak asked with a chuckle. “Fun as that would be, Callan and his ilk accept the temple as a necessary evil. But we, however, do not fall under their jurisdiction.”

“What was this about war on the streets?” Harruq asked as he came limping down the stairs. Aurelia frowned and rose from her chair.

“You shouldn’t be up and around, you’ll make yourself sick.”

“Haern’s beaten me far worse than this,” the half-orc argued, though his voice was weak and unconvincing. He accepted Aurelia’s arms and used her weight to reach her chair. She wrapped her blanket around him before sitting down beside Delysia.

“We don’t want war on the streets,” Tarlak said. “So we must be certain the priests are committing these murders and mutilations. But do we really have the strength to take them on, in their home no less?”

Haern leaned back and ran his hands through his blond hair.

“No. I don’t think we do,” he said. “But that hasn’t stopped us before. We have never taken such a great risk, so if we do, we must do it with all our abilities. If the priests of Karak survive, we will be guaranteed retaliation.” He looked around at his friends. “And I would not wish that upon any of you.”

“We need to be more vigilant,” Aurelia said. “We keep looking and keep searching. If we find and stop the priests outside the temple, they will view us as mercenaries performing a job. Those we kill will be faulted for being caught.”

“Will that be enough to deter the killings?” Haern asked.

“It will be if we kill enough of them,” Aurelia said, the hardness in her eyes frightening.

“Fantastic,” Harruq said. “Why are they doing these killings in the first place?”

“Karak seeks total devotion,” Delysia said after a long period of silence. “This means inhibition, compassion, and humanity must be purged. These mutilations, these sacrifices, are meant to show their faith. And I think we are ignoring one other aspect. Fear. There is a reason the bodies are being dumped for all to see.”

“If it is fear they want, they’re getting it,” Tarlak said, remembering the talk he heard the previous day. “And it’ll get worse, especially with how those three were found.”

When Harruq asked how, the wizard shook his head.

“Some things are best to remain in the dark. For now, we rest, pray, and do what we do best for the rest of the day. Come night, we’ll scour the city and hope to Ashhur we catch whoever’s doing this before more bodies are found strung from…never mind. Good day everyone.”

He downed the rest of his glass, made it vanish with a snap of his fingers, and then hurried up the stairs. To Harruq’s questioning look, Haern only shook his head and shuddered.

T hat night the Eschaton gathered near the western entrance to the city. The air was cold, and they all wore extra layers underneath their armor and robes, as well as thick cloaks wrapped about their bodies.