The Weight of Blood (The Half-Orcs, #1)(18)

Qurrah accepted the bones, stashing them into a small pocket he had sewn onto his robe. A silence fell over the two as far away a wolf howled.

“I wonder,” Velixar said, gazing in the direction of the howl. “Do you have a brother?”

Qurrah shifted his weight a bit. “Why do you ask?”

Velixar looked up to the moon and stared as he spoke.

“I have had dreams. I see you beside me, a strong ally, but I see another half-orc leading my army. He is strong and wields two enormous swords. Again I ask, do you have a brother?”

Qurrah pulled out a bone from his pouch and stared at it.

“I do,” he said. “You wish for him to help?”

“He will do more than aid us,” Velixar whispered to the moon. “His power is as great as yours, Qurrah. You two are vessels of possibility unseen in centuries. It is as if one of the gods had a hand in your creation.”

Qurrah chuckled. “If any god had a hand in creating us, we were forgotten soon after. We both have suffered, I more than Harruq. We never had a home or a family. By will alone we survived. There is nothing special about us, not even our blood.”

“And that is why you are strong,” the man in black said, his lips ever-changing. “All things are for a reason. Even those who dwell in the darkness such as I will not deny this truth. You were meant for me. I will train you, and you will aid me in sundering all that brings false stability to this chaotic world.”

“For death and power,” Qurrah whispered.

“For Karak,” Velixar corrected. “When can I meet your brother?”

The half-orc shrugged. While he seemed calm, the man in black did not miss how his eyes still refused to meet his.

“Give me time,” Qurrah said. “Let me make sure he is ready.”

“Is he not open to Karak?” Velixar asked.

“He is open,” Qurrah said a bit too vehemently. A glare from Velixar calmed him before he continued. “My brother can be a mindless butcher, but he must be angered or spurned into battle. When peaceful, his mind entertains ideas that run… contrary to what he and I are.”

“And what is that, Qurrah? What are you and your brother?”

The fire sparked a shower of orange into the sky as Qurrah spoke.

“Superior.”

In the distance, elven eyes watched that cough of flame stretch to the stars, as well as the sight of those two huddled figures talking long through the night.



The first week of training went well for both Harruq and Aurelia. The half-orc kept on the offensive, determined not to add a fresh set of bruises to his body. Aurelia still fell for the feints, however slow, but her blocks were already quicker and more precise. They fought until both collapsed against trees, sweat soaking their bodies.

“You’re starting to get the hang of it,” Harruq said after their fifth session.

“Don’t flatter me,” Aurelia said, refastening one of her braids that had come loose. “You’re still going too easy.”

“If I move too fast you won’t learn anything,” Harruq insisted.

“How do you know?” she asked. “Do you train elves often?”

The half-orc grinned. “All the time. I’m known for it, in fact. Harruq Tun, trainer of elves, slayer of dragons, and man of the ladies.”

“Please.” She rolled her eyes. “Not this lady.”

“Never said you were one, elfie.”

Aurelia gave Harruq a brutal glare. “And why not?”

He picked at some grass and said nothing.

“Well?” she asked.

“Well what?” He looked up, his face blank and his eyes wide as if he hadn’t a clue.

“Why am I not a lady?” Aurelia asked.

“I don’t know,” Harruq said. “Did you cast a spell on yourself or something? Look like one to me.”

She stood and took up her staff. Instead of grabbing his swords, Harruq ducked behind a tree.

“Don’t hurt me,” he shouted. His face poked around the tree, his long brown hair falling down past his eyes. Much as she tried not to, Aurelia burst into laughter.

“Get over here,” she said.

A small silver dagger appeared in her hands. Harruq eyed it warily.

“What’s that for?” he asked.

“When was the last time you cut your hair?” Aurelia asked.

The half-orc shrugged, for some reason embarrassed. “I don’t know. I just hack it off with a sword if it ever gets to be a bother. Been awhile, though.”

“It shows.” The elf motioned to the grass before her. “Sit, and tell me another of your wonderful stories while I make you look less like an animal.”

Harruq grumbled, but when she frowned and crossed her arms the normal defiance in him melted away. He plopped down and sighed.

“Something must be wrong with me,” he said.

“Shut up and start telling me more about yourself.”

“Huh?”

“Just do it.”

So the half-orc shut up, paused, shrugged, and then began.

“Well, this isn’t a happy tale, but it’s the only one I can think of. It’s about a present Qurrah gave me. He’s a softie at times, and this is one of them times.”

Aurelia smoothed his hair in her fingers, frowned, and then sliced off a large chunk with the incredibly sharp dagger. Brown hair fell in clumps at Harruq’s feet.