David Dalglish - The Cost of Betrayal

“I do not like games,” the half-orc said. Then he fell to one side, collapsing against the wall in a sudden spell of weakness. Tessanna rushed to him but he pushed her back.

“Must pay,” he mumbled, banging open the door. He rushed out, having not eaten a thing in two days. The girl stood at the entrance, feeling the crisp cold blowing against her skin as she watched her lover trail off into the forest like a possessed being. She watched until he was gone, and then cut herself to pass the time.

A ntonil arrived the next day, accompanied by a squad of soldiers. He wore his shield awkwardly, presumably to lessen the pain it caused his wounded arm. Tarlak greeted him at the door, looking worlds better than he had the night before.

“Greetings, our highly esteemed and so dangerously intelligent Guard Captain,” the wizard beamed. The dark edges in his eyes added an unintended tinge of sarcasm. “How fares your collarbone?”

“Your sister’s magic borders on miracle work,” Antonil said. He did not smile. “Do you know where Qurrah has gone?”

“No,” Tarlak lied. “I mean, we think we have an idea, but it’s not in Veldaren. Out in the wilderness, where he can’t harm anyone. Why?”

Antonil sighed. He nodded to his guards, who obediently backed out of listening range. When satisfied, he continued.

“Another child was found butchered, the worst yet. It happened sometime this morning. I thought you told me Qurrah was the Reaper?”

“He is,” Tarlak said. His arm shot out, catching the side of the door to steady himself. “I mean, he was…”

Antonil’s mouth tightened. “I trusted you, and I still grant you benefit of the doubt. I lost a hundred good men last night, and we were already stretched thin. Whoever you can muster, I need their help.”

“We didn’t lie to you for the coin,” the wizard insisted. “Harruq said he saw Qurrah standing over the dead child with his own two eyes.”

“But did he see him kill him?”

Tarlak’s silence was answer enough. Antonil gently pressed his good arm against his chest, his way of saluting. “Tell your sister she has my sincerest gratitude.”

Tarlak tipped his hat and closed the door. He slumped against it, cursing under his breath.

“Harruq, you fool,” he said. “You damn fool.”

A t the top of the tower, Harruq knelt on the ground, a sweetroll in hand.

“Do you want something to eat?” he asked. Aullienna shook her head, refusing the offered roll. Her entire body quivered in fear. Harruq had seen dogs shake like that, ones that had been beaten, kicked, and abused. No hand had ever struck Aullienna, yet she remained huddled in the corner of the room refusing all attempts to lure her out.

Aurelia took the treat out of her husband’s hand and began nibbling on it.

“At least she appears better,” the elf said. “Perhaps Calan is wrong.”

“Yeah, he seems like he’s wrong a lot,” the half-orc grumbled, walking away from the corner. He could feel his daughter’s eyes lingering on his back. He wondered what she saw. Sure he was big, and he could scare people, but she was his daughter. Not once had he raised his voice in anger to her. Why would she fear him?

In truth, she didn’t. She feared the ten-tongued goblin who gibbered nonsense as he offered her a crust of black bread crawling with worms. When the door opened, she shrieked. The god of the goblin had come, his eyes dim yellow, his tongues trailing to the floor. When he spoke, his voice shook the ground.

“Should I leave?” Tarlak asked as Aullienna sobbed and buried her head.

“No, stay,” Aurelia said. “She gets like that every now and then. What is it you need?”

The wizard walked in, his hands clasped behind his back. He seemed reluctant to speak. Harruq eyed his pacing for as long as he could stand before putting an end to it.

“Out with it, wizard, before you make me get my swords.”

“Another child was killed last night,” Tarlak blurted. The two stopped, trying to swallow the news.

“Like before?” Aurelia asked.

“Just like before.”

Harruq opened his mouth, and then closed it again. He had no idea how to react. The worst news he had ever heard seemed too good to be true.

“Qurrah wouldn’t come back,” he said. “There’s no reason. He would have left town, gone to wherever he goes in the forest.”

“You think someone else killed the children,” Aurelia surmised. She stood, her heart a flutter. “You think we wrongly accused Qurrah.”

“I struck him first,” Harruq said. “Me. All of this was because of me, and it was because I was wrong. You know this now, don’t you Tar?”

The wizard turned away, and then the great yellow wizard hat bobbed up and down.

“Yeah I do,” Tarlak said. “And that puts a whole new color over this crazy painting. My gut wants us to go after them, kill them if we must, but now?” He sighed.

Harruq approached him, his face reddening.

“You caused this,” he said, jamming a finger against the wizard’s back. Tarlak spun around, flabbergasted.

“Me?” Tarlak exclaimed. “How is that?”

“You sent Haern after them,” he said. “What had happened was between me and him. I was wrong. What I did, I struck first, and I was wrong. He has acted on defense every time, against me, against Haern, and it wasn’t Qurrah who attacked us last night, it was Tessanna. I wonder how much control my brother truly has on her.”

“You will not blame this on me,” Tarlak shouted, matching the half-orc in volume but not height. “Self defense or not, he left you a broken mess. Haern would cut a new smile in any person’s throat who did such a thing to a member of my family, regardless who.”

“Boys!” Aurelia shouted, drawing both their attentions. “Shut up, right now, or I will polymorph you both into songbirds so at least I will enjoy your incessant banter.” They quieted, for each could see magic tingling on the edges of her fingers. “Excellent. Whoever’s fault this is doesn’t matter. A murderer is still loose inside Veldaren, and he needs to be caught. More importantly, we must decide how we deal with Qurrah. If this is true, the extent of his crimes number only to what he has done to our daughter.”

“What he has done is unforgivable,” the wizard said.

“I will decide what I can forgive,” she said. “And what if he can find a cure? Shall I kill the one person who can save her?” Aurelia pointedly looked to Aullienna and watched her pick at the grass. “Perhaps we should reconsider his offer,” she whispered.

“What?” both asked at the same time.

“If this is true, then things are different. We don’t know his motivations. We don’t know how he will respond if we explain ourselves, or even apologize. There is so much we don’t know.” She did not say her most nagging thought, the one that had kept her awake all the previous night. She was no fool. She knew why Qurrah wanted the spellbook. He didn’t want to just cure Aullienna. He wanted the cure for himself, for Tessanna.

“It is up to Lathaar,” the wizard said, storming to the door. “Convince him. But I swear, if you give that tome to Qurrah, it is on your head, not mine.”

“I can bear the weight,” Aurelia said, her stance firm, regal. “I do not fear such mantles.”

“Then try a few of mine,” the wizard said. He left in a blur of yellow. Aurelia watched, her anger softening upon his departure. Her true worry showed its face, deep and frightened.

“Do you really think Qurrah might know a way to fix her?” Harruq asked. Aurelia turned to answer him, but it was Aullienna who spoke up, startling them both.

“Uncle lies,” she said, rocking back and forth, her large eyes looking at her parents. “But he’s hoping. Will you help him, mommy? Help the bad man?”