The Cost of Betrayal (35 page)

“What are you doing out here?” Tarlak asked as he came up the stairs.

“Kicked me out,” Harruq said.

“Making too much of a fuss, eh? Well, brawny men with more muscles than brains usually don’t mix too well with such delicate matters. I’ll see how things are going.”

“Don’t go in there,” the half-orc said. Tarlak waved him off, opened the door, and slipped inside. Harruq counted to three on his fingers, timing it perfectly.

“GET OUT OF HERE, NOW!”

The door flung open, and out fled the wizard as if seven fire-breathing dragons chased him for supper. He slammed the door shut, straightened his hat, and then fixed his robes.

“Kicked me out,” Tarlak said. Harruq rolled his eyes.

“Don’t worry ol’ buddy,” the wizard said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’m sure Del has everything under control. Your child will be fine.”

Another cry came from inside, sharp and focused. Both shuddered.

“Something tells me we got the easy part,” Harruq said.

“Amen to that.”

Another cry came, soft and shrill. Both stood alert at the sound. No woman made that sound. It was the cry of a babe.

“Aurry!” Harruq shouted, yanking open the door. His heart froze, and all things of the world fell away to a single image. On a bed, her hair frazzled and her face soaked with sweat, was the most beautiful woman Harruq had ever seen. In her arms, wrapped with towels, was a newborn child. His mind fought to grasp what he witnessed. His wife was holding his child. His child.

“I’m a father,” he said breathlessly.

“It’s a healthy girl,” Delysia said, towels in her hands covered with blood, fluid, and sweat. “What shall you name her?”

Harruq slid beside his wife, his eyes mesmerized by the scrunched red face, swollen shut eyes, and tiny mouth of his crying child.

“As we agreed. It’s a girl, so you get to name her, Aurry.”

“Aullienna,” Aurelia said.

“Aullienna,” Harruq repeated. “Gonna take some time before I can say that right.”

“You’ll have plenty of time to learn it,” Tarlak said, smiling beside the door. “Think of how many times you’ll be shouting it. ‘Aullienna, stay away from my things. Aullienna, put down my sword. Aullienna, stop beating up Brug.’”

Chubby hands reached from behind the door, and then the wizard was gone. A few seconds later, Brug ducked his head inside.

“Good to hear you’re alright, Aurelia,” he said. He winked at the little babe. “Hope it’s a long time before you try beating up little old me, Aullienna.”

Aurelia smiled, too tired to laugh.

“I need to nurse her,” she told her husband. Harruq nodded, realized what that meant, and then nodded again.

“Everybody out,” he said. “Private time.”

As they were leaving, Haern slipped inside. He wore no hood or cloak, only a simple pair of pants and a shirt.

“I come to pay my respects to the child,” Haern said.

“Respects paid. My baby’s hungry, so time to go.”

“Hush, Harruq,” Aurelia said, her voice distant and drowsy. She stroked a hand across Aullienna’s soft forehead. “We are grateful, Haern.”

The assassin opened his hand and held it out. Flat across his palm was a long green ribbon with gold writing.

“Tie it to her crib, for now,” Haern explained. “And when she is older, may it adorn her hair.”

“Pretty,” Harruq said, not understanding the true importance. Aurelia, however, read the writing and smiled.

“It is a noble gift, and a thoughtful one. We thank you.”

“What’s it say?” the half-orc asked after Haern bowed and left.

“
May Ashhur’s eyes forever watch over this child, even as we of the Eschaton do the same
. Such a token is given by men who pledge armies to ensure the safety of a child.” The elf smiled at her daughter. “I’ll take Haern over an army any day.”

“Can’t argue with you there.”

D
own on the first floor, Harruq found Tarlak pacing.

“Did my brother…?” Harruq asked.

“No sign,” the wizard said. “I’m sure he is very happy for you.”

“I’m sure he is too,” he said, none too convincingly. He grinned at Tarlak. “You realize I’m a dad now? A dad! I’m a father!”

“Aye, that you are,” the wizard said. “Scary as the abyss, isn’t it?”

“Scarier,” Harruq said. “Far, far scarier.”

They moved Aurelia and Aullienna into the Tun’s room later that night. Harruq carried the little babe in his arms, beaming as if his face had been frozen that way.

“Welcome to your home,” he said, opening their new door slowly, with an unrehearsed theatrical flair. Aurelia kissed his cheek as she carefully came in behind him.

Due to carefully cast spells, the room was transformed into something more akin to a forest. Illusions enchanted the walls so they appeared, in touch, taste, and smell, to be covered with ivy. The floor was a carpet of smooth, short grass. As for a ceiling, there was none, not to the naked eye. Puffy clouds floated above on a gentle breeze. A single tree marked the center of the room, winding upward with branches positioned as steps. At the top was a cradle, thick and sturdy. Near the tree was a bed, covered with a great blanket of flowers. The entire room felt open, natural, and above all else, like a private home.

“Kind of bright for nighttime, don’t you think?” Harruq asked. In answer, Aurelia snapped her fingers twice. The blue sky turned purple, and a sparkling field of stars covered the ceiling. The soft breeze vanished, and in its absence came the constant drone of cicadas. Aullienna was fast asleep, so she failed to show her amazement. The half-orc grumbled.

“One day she’ll be old enough to know how neat that is,” he said.

“Shush, you’ll wake her.” Aurelia took her from his arms and glided up the tree-steps to the crib. She laid her inside and stroked her face.

“I never expected to have a child,” she said, cooing as she felt Harruq’s arms wrap around her. “Never expected any of this.”

“If you expected to marry a bumbling half-orc when you were a youngling, then something was wrong with you.”

Aurelia reached back, put a hand around her husband’s head, and pulled him close so she could kiss him.

“She looks elven,” she said when their lips parted. “Nearly full blood, even.”

“Guess we can be thankful for that,” he said. “It’ll help her be accepted. No shame in my orc blood, I just know her life will be easier without it showing.”

“It does show,” Aurelia said. “She’s bigger than most elven babes. She’ll grow tall, like her father.”

“Is she going to wield swords and beat people senseless, too?” he asked.

“Only if daddy wants to get his cute ass fireballed,” Aurelia said with a wink.

Harruq kissed from her neck to her ear.

“A tradeoff I’ll take any day,” he whispered. “Just to watch it drive you crazy.”

“Oh, but I am already there,” she said, running a hand down his face. “I married you, didn’t I?”

“That’s right, you did. Why’d you do that?”

“Because I love you, dimwit.”

He flipped her around and kissed her lips. “Don’t you forget it, either.”

“Never,” she said, smiling up at him. “Never in a million years.”

A
fter waking three times to attend the crying child, Aurelia’s eyes didn’t even flutter when the half-orc slid off the bed. He crossed his arms as if cold, although a soft, phantasmal breeze blew from the walls, warm and comforting. Up the stairs he climbed, his steps surprisingly silent for his bulk. Aullienna was sound asleep on her back, her fat face turned away from him. He reached out to touch her. Halfway there, his hand froze, unable to move any closer.

“How many did we kill, Qurrah?” he asked, a lump in his throat. His voice was a raspy whisper among the cicadas. “You were wrong. This life is not suffering. We were wrong, brother. We did…”

His finger brushed her face. He recoiled as if touched by fire. His foot slipped on a stair. He went down, slamming his knee on the top step. A sharp intake of air marked his pain. Kneeling there, clutching his leg, he fought back the tears. The girl. He had seen the girl, the one clutching her stuffed doll in the village of Cornrows. Like an animal, he had butchered her, driven his blade through that pretty face and those blue eyes.

You’re an orc, aren’t you?

“We were wrong,” he whispered. He smashed his fist against his thigh. He remembered the mother who had held the child in her arms when he took their lives. All those questions he had wondered, they came thrashing back, for now he had the answers. They were a vile blade in his gut. Unable to hold back the tears, he sobbed there, a broken man.

When hands touched his back, he turned and snarled like the beast he felt he was. Before the sight of his wife, tired and worried, he could not remain such a thing. When she extended her arms, he accepted. In her embrace, he cried until his sorrow subdued.

“All will be fine,” she whispered to him.

“You don’t know,” he said to her.

“That changes nothing,” she said, kissing his forehead. “Come to bed. Whatever it is, it can wait until morning. I only have an hour before she needs fed, and I would like to sleep as much as I can until then.”

He nodded, stood erect, and did his best to smile.

“Alright, let’s go to bed.”

Harruq slept with his back pressed against her stomach, her arms wrapped under his arms and around his chest. The steady feel of her breath against his neck calmed many of his thoughts. Sleep came, coupled with nightmares. When light flooded the room from an illusionary sun rising at dawn, his eyes were bloodshot and heavy.

“Morning, love,” Aurelia said, kissing his back. “You should go. Haern will be waiting for you.”

Without a word he stood, dressed in his armor, and left to spar.

T
he baby wake you often?” Haern asked, seeing the red in the half-orc’s eyes.

“Nah. Just didn’t sleep well.” Harruq drew his blades. “Let’s get this over with.”

Instead of attacking, the assassin frowned. “This is hardly the competitive spirit I prefer. Is something amiss?”

“Nothing is amiss. I just need some damn sleep, now either swing a blade at me or let me go back to bed.”