David Dalglish: The Cost of Betrayal

A pleasant smell teased his nostrils. His stomach rumbled noisily. Qurrah finally coughed and stirred, alerting the two to his awakening. Noticing the movements, Harruq trudged over, food in hand.

“Morning,” he said, handing him a plate full of sausage, lettuce, and buttered bread.

“Did you abduct a cook while I slept?” Qurrah asked.

“Courtesy of the elf,” Aurelia said, walking over. “And finally you’re awake. Hurry and eat.”

Qurrah took the plate and sampled a bit of sausage. The warm food stirred his stomach. He couldn’t remember when he had last eaten. He rammed food into his mouth, not caring about any sort of manners. Aurelia watched him, a small frown tugging at the corners of her mouth. Qurrah seemed pale and drained, his muscles almost non-existent as they clung to his bones. He looked like a pathetic caricature of his brother, one drained of warmth, joy, and trust.

But not strength. Aurelia knew well the strength the half-orc hid, powerful necromancy honed to a fearful precision at the hands of his master, Velixar. Both brothers were half-orc, half-elf, and that mixture seemed to have unlocked a strange reservoir of power for the two of them. Many elves had fallen to them in battle, overwhelmed by blade and magic.

“Careful there,” Aurelia said as Qurrah nearly choked on some lettuce. “I can make more if you’re hungry. I never expected you to out-eat your brother.”

A wave of her hand and the plate refilled. The brown sausage steamed as if just taken from a fire. Qurrah stared and shook his head.

“How?”

“A simple spell. I could teach you, if you wished.”

The half-orc resumed eating, nodding as he did. “I would appreciate it.”

Harruq sighed, remembering all the meager meals, many stolen, that he and Qurrah had shared over the many years.

“Too bad you never learned that spell ages ago,” he grumbled.

After Qurrah finished, the three prepared for travel. It didn’t take very long, considering their meager possessions. Qurrah had his magic whip, which he wrapped around his arm, and his pouch of bones and other components for his spells. Harruq buckled his swords to his belt, ran a hand through his hair, and then declared himself ready.

“So where are we to go?” she asked, her own few things tucked away in secret pockets of her dress.

“We know little of this world,” Qurrah said. “We have been exiled twice. Once for our blood, and once for the blood we spilled.”

Aurelia winced, still uncomfortable with mention of the battle. Harruq and Qurrah had fought against her elven kin and slaughtered many, but she had protected Harruq and even helped him escape. A day later, she still was not sure why. She just remembered the panicked, desperate look in Harruq’s eyes when he thought she might die, murdered by his own hands.

“Mordan banished my kind,” Aurelia said. “And it seems now Neldar has done the same. East or West, there is no home for me.”

“You said yesterday you could get us into Veldaren,” Harruq said. “Is that true?”

Veldaren was the capital of the kingdom of Neldar, and had been the brothers’ previous home before they had been expelled.

“Only if you both play along,” Aurelia said. “How we live once we’re in, though, will depend on you.”

“It might not be comfortable,” Qurrah said. “My brother and I are used to the dark and the filth. Could you say the same?”

“Don’t treat me like a prissy child princess,” Aurelia said. “I’ve lived longer than the two of you combined. I can endure a bit of hardship. Now close your eyes, Harruq.”

She placed her hands on his face as he stared at her with wide eyes.

“Um, what are you doing, Aurry?”

“Be quiet. Can you remember what Veldaren looks like from beyond the gates?”

“Yeah, but why?”

“I said close your eyes. Concentrate on that image. It’ll be hard, knowing you, but try anyway.”

Qurrah smirked as Harruq did as he was told. He remembered the great wall surrounding the city, made of stacked stones, each one taller and wider than several men. He remembered the great oak doors, lined with metal and steel. He remembered the castle proper, looming over the city with its great collection of towering spires and crenellated walls. It was an awesome sight, crafted by the hand of the dark god, Karak.

Aurelia focused on these images, lifting them from Harruq’s mind akin to a ladle drawing water from a well. She focused on the fields of grass stretching from the front entrance on either side of a worn path. Perfect. Eyes still closed, she let go of Harruq and stepped back. Words of magic slipped through her lips. The air before her ripped open into a flat, whirling blue essence.

“And there we go,” she said, opening her eyes. “Veldaren.”

She stepped through the portal and vanished. The two half-orcs glanced at one another.

“You first, my brother,” Qurrah said.

“I’d hate to leave you again. I’ll follow after.”

“Get in there, you child.”

“Fine,” Harruq grumbled. He took a deep breath, took another, and then stepped through. Qurrah followed.

Both felt the same sensation of flying over a great distance, yet to their minds they had taken a single step. The gentle hills north of Woodhaven were gone, replaced by the walls of Neldar, the city of stone.

“That was easy enough,” Harruq said. He decided not to mention his insides felt like they were doing loops.

“We have been banished, as has your kind,” Qurrah said. “How do you plan to sneak us in?”

“Through the front gate, of course,” Aurelia said. “Just give me a moment.”

She chanted again, the words far different than any spell Qurrah was used to hearing. This was no magic of destruction or death. No, it was a much subtler magic. Aurelia’s dress changed from a simple green to an elegant mix of reds and violets. The gold of her skin faded pink. Her ears lost their upturned tips, enlarging and rounding out into human ears. After a quick snap of her fingers, white gloves appeared, covering up to her elbows.

“I look the definition of a rich noble of Mordeina, do you not agree, my servants?” she asked.

“Servants?” Qurrah said. “Surely you jest.”

“Why else would you two accompany me? Keep your mouths shut, and agree with anything I say. Oh, and here.”

Another snap of her fingers, and suddenly large leather bags, clipped together by gold and silver buckles, appeared at their feet. The elf winked.

“A noble doesn’t travel empty handed.”

“You mean a noble’s servants,” Harruq grumbled. He picked up two, grunting at their weight. “What is in here?”

“Rocks. And you forgot a bag.”

He looked at the third, sitting in front of Qurrah.

“I am but an advisor and protector,” the weaker half-orc said. “You would not think I would be forced into physical labor, would you?”

Aurelia laughed into her glove as Harruq shifted two bags to his right hand and grabbed the third with his left.

“Laugh all you want, I’m dropping these things the second we’re inside.”

“You poor dear. Now hurry, we don’t want my delicate skin in the sun for too long.”

They were far enough away from the entrance that Aurelia’s shift in clothes and facial design went unnoticed. Harruq grunted and groaned with every step, his arms bulging with muscle. He felt they would pop out of their sockets if he travelled much farther. He dropped the bags as they halted before the two gate guards, who had barred the entrance with their crossed spears.

“I’m sorry, milady, but those things have been banned from the city,” said one guard.

Aurelia scoffed at the two guards as if they were children.