David Dalglish: The Cost of Betrayal

“I don’t know how, since I, and they, have never been here before.”

“Only human blood is allowed entrance,” said the other. “I suggest you leave them outside during your stay.”

“I most certainly will not,” Aurelia huffed. “You don’t expect a frail thing such as myself to carry these bags on my own, do you?”

“I’m sure you could hire…”

She interrupted him by snapping her fingers in front of his nose.

“I have already hired my servants. And if I recall, you have banned elves, not orcs.”

“Milady, we may turn away any we wish. I am telling you, those things behind you are not coming inside, servants or otherwise.”

Qurrah put a hand on Harruq’s arm, which was shaking with slowly building rage.

“Calm, brother,” he whispered. “Save your anger for when it may do good.”

Aurelia untied a coin purse from her sash, hoping neither of the gate guards heard Qurrah’s words.

“Now then,” she said, her mood brightening, “you say I can hire new servants? Well, how about I hire you two?”

The guards exchanged glances, and did so a second time with much wider eyes when the disguised elf opened the purse to reveal a pile of shiny gold coins.

“I’d say three a piece is fair, don’t you?” she asked.

“More than fair,” the first guard said.

“Oh yes,” said the second.

“Good,” she said, dropping the thick coins into each outstretched hand. She tied the purse back to her sash. A flick of her finger, and Harruq picked up the bags.

“Well, my servants, I could use such armed and competent men as yourselves. I’ve been afraid of thieves the past few days. Could you stare off that way and make sure none chase after me? I’ll sleep better tonight if you do.”

“Welcome to Veldaren,” both guards said in unison. They uncrossed their spears and pointedly ignored the two half-orcs as they entered the city.

“Since when are you a rich little elf?” Harruq asked once they were beyond earshot.

“Since never,” she laughed. “In about an hour, those two will find themselves three copper pieces richer. I hope it is enough to buy them a drink to drown their sorrow.”

“And I thought I was the devious one,” Qurrah said.

A few peddlers eagerly brought out their wares as the trio passed by. Aurelia waved them off without slowing. For the most part, however, they were ignored. The southern districts of Veldaren were filled with homes of the poorer inhabitants. It wasn’t until the center of the city that the real merchants set up shop. A beautiful fountain carved as a statue of a crowned man wielding a sword marked where the roads leading from the southern and western gates met. Aurelia paused before the statue, reading aloud the writing beneath.

“Valius Kren, first great King of Neldar…”

She chuckled at the blurred writing underneath, knowing full well what it originally said.

“…to be appointed by the hand of glorious Karak himself,” she finished. Harruq gave her a funny look, but Qurrah seemed far more intrigued.

“How is it you know this?” he asked.

“About sixty years ago some priests of Ashhur demanded the statue be destroyed, or the words below erased. Karak founded this entire nation, and placed the stones with his hands, yet it seems many would like to forget such an allegiance. It was all the talk among the elves, many fearing the humans would soon forget, and then repeat, the mistakes of their past.”

“I would not have expected empathy for Karak from one such as you,” Qurrah said.

Aurelia frowned at him in her foreign face.

“It is not empathy. I just wonder at the foolishness of humans. Before Karak and Ashhur warred, both were loving, benevolent deities. If anything, mankind should remember that all may fall.”

“Fascinating, but my arms are really starting to hurt,” Harruq said from behind them. “Where the abyss are we going?”

“Didn’t you two used to have a home here?” she asked him.

“Yeah, but you don’t want to live there. It was just a small shed, we hardly fit inside.”

“Milady of Mordan, may I interest you in the finest silks this side of the rivers?” interrupted a shouting voice.

“Oh Celestia help us,” Aurelia moaned as a chubby man with a mustache waddled over, purple cloth in his hand.

“Not interested, buddy,” Harruq growled, intercepting the merchant. “Go bug someone else.”

“Do I know you?” the merchant asked, giving both brothers an inquisitive look.

“They’re my pets, and you know all orcs look the same,” Aurelia said, gently pushing Harruq aside. “And forgive us, but I would like to delay until I have rented my room.”

“Of course,” he said, bowing deeply. Qurrah crossed his arms, his mouth locked in a frown.

“What is it?” the elf asked him once the merchant marched back to his stand propped against the side of a building. Qurrah dipped his hand into the fountain and drank.

“His eyes never left me and my brother,” he said once finished. “Any merchant worth his wares knows to never break contact with the buyer.” He nodded again, his eyes darting to the side. “And he watches us even now.”

“A thief, perhaps?” Aurelia asked.

“There are no thieves,” Harruq said, shifting a bag from his right hand to his left. “Guess you don’t know about the guilds here, do you?”

“Another time,” Qurrah said. “Someone else is watching us. We need to leave.”

“Well,” Harruq said, taking the initiative. “Nowhere else to go but home, if it still stands. Anyone follows us, we’ll know.”

Harruq led the way, following the western road for a quarter mile before darting south. Fewer and fewer people traveled the streets, and those that did stared openly at Aurelia. It wasn’t often a noble of worth came anywhere near their homes. Harruq led them deeper south, into the old, decaying part of the city.

“Is anyone still following us?” Aurelia asked.

“Not that I see,” Qurrah said. “But I feel it still, eyes watching from afar.”

“Come on, we’re almost there,” Harruq said. “I’d say we already look suspicious enough. Think I can dump the bags?”

“No need.” A wave of her hand and the bags vanished into nothing. Harruq stretched his arms, moaning with approval.

“Much better.” His hands fell to his swords. “Follow me.”

With Harruq no longer carrying the bags, they made a faster pace. Aurelia took in as much as she could as they weaved through homes and back alleys. They were so close to the prosperous northern districts, yet here it seemed the sun shone less, the faces bore little happiness, and no sign of wealth dared let itself show. With each turn Harruq led them on, things grew worse.

“There are no places such as these in Woodhaven,” Aurelia said softly.

“Welcome to the dark parts of mankind,” Qurrah muttered with strange amusement. Drunk men wandered the street in daytime. A few whores catcalled to them. The air stank of feces and urine, for the thin sewers on each side of the street were clogged and overflowing. Lying beside a ditch, crowned with a halo of flies, was a blood-spattered corpse. No one seemed to notice.

Qurrah glanced back, barely catching sight of a yellow robe.

“Find us a building,” he said to Harruq. “Make it large and empty.”

The big half-orc approached what had once been a storehouse. A shove of his arm, and the weathered door collapsed. Dust erupted as it hit the ground. Harruq led the way, Aurelia and Qurrah following after.

“Cheerful place,” Harruq said as he looked about the mostly empty building. Dust covered the floor, and splintered boards hung from the windows. Feces and dried urine filled one corner, and stacked hay filled another. A few crates and some rotting wood decorated the place.