The Weight of Blood (The Half-Orcs, #1)(32)

Aurelia stared at Harruq for a while, her eyes probing. The half-orc endured the gaze, concentrating fully on his grass-removing project.

“I would feel better having met your brother,” she said at last. “But you may take as long as you wish.”

“Good. Can we spar now?”

“Of course,” Aurelia said, picking up her staff.



Hours later, they finished and said their goodbyes.

“See you tomorrow,” Harruq called, sheathing his blades. The elf did not reply as she vanished behind the trees. He stared after her for a bit, then turned toward home. Before he could take two steps, a sudden weight crashed into his side. He tumbled best he could, his shoulder absorbing much of the impact. His legs tucked underneath him and pushed, shooting him back to his feet. Out came his swords.

Standing before him was Dieredon, his bow held in both hands like a staff. Long blades stretched out from either end, tiny razor teeth lining the front. The elf twirled the bow in his hands and then charged. Two quick hits batted one of Harruq’s swords out and away. A feint, so quick Harruq blocked on instinct, took care of the other. His weapons gone, the half-orc was exposed. Dieredon wasted no timesmashing the half-orc’s groin. As he doubled over in pain, a snap kick smacked his chin, splattering bloodand forcing him to drop.

The sharp tip of a blade pressed against Harruq’s throat before he knew what was happening.

“Move,” Dieredon said. “Please, move. Give me an excuse to kill you.”

Harruq was too stunned and disoriented to give him what he wanted. Instead he lied there, his nose throbbing and his swords limp in his hands.

“What do you want?” he asked, ignoring the sharp pain in his throat as a tiny drop of blood trickled down his neck.

“The entire village of Cornrows is missing,” Dieredon said. “Most likely dead.”

Harruq’s breathing quickened. His hands tightened around the hilts of his weapons.

“I had nothing to do with it,” he said. “Why would I?”

“Children have been dying since you arrived here in Woodhaven,” Dieredon replied. “Butchered, intestines removed, strange carvings on the bodies, and pieces of them missing. We thought a sick mind, but now I understand better. Necromancy requires many interesting artifacts for spells. Your brother is a necromancer, isn’t he?”

Harruq said nothing. He fought back his swelling anger and panic.

“I don’t understand what Aurelia sees in you,” Dieredon continued. “You murdered the children and gave them to your brother. You’re the Forest Butcher. Admit it so I may kill you.”

“I will admit no such thing,” Harruq said, his jaw trembling. “You’re guessing.”

“I have also seen your brother meeting the strange man in black of the ever-changing face. What is his name, Harruq? What is it he offers you?”

“You’re out of your mind.”

The tip buried in deeper. The elf lowered his face so the fury in his eyes was all Harruq could see.

“Yes, I am out of my mind. I will let you live. Until Aurelia sees you for what you are, I will spare your life. But know I will be watching you, and I will be watching your brother. One false move and I’ll kill you both. Is that clear?”

Harruq nodded, shivering as he felt the tip of the blade rubbing against the tender skin of his throat.

“Good. Pleasant days, half-orc. May Celestia watch over you…and condemn your actions to death.”

The biting tip left his throat, the blades in the bow retracted, and then the elf vanished. Harruq struggled to his feet, clutching his neck as he gasped for air.

“Damn elf,” he cursed. “How dare you threaten us.”

His hands shook violently as his adrenaline faded. He had been terrified, convinced the elf would kill him, yet he didn’t.

“Big mistake, elfie,” he said. He snatched his swords and sheathed them. “I’ll make you pay for that.”

After a bit of debate, he decided not to tell Qurrah. Velixar had already made it clear they needed to be careful. Now he understood why. He wouldn’t tell Aurelia, either. That would be stupid, and stupid he was not…most of the time.

“I need a drink,” he said, turning toward the town and trudging back. All he could think about was getting a good, stiff drink. If he was lucky, he might get in a good bar fight. Nothing helped him forget his worries better than walloping a fellow drunken idiot.





10





She felt guilty for spying on him, but Aurelia was convinced she had no other choice. Over the past month, she had grown close to the half-orc Harruq Tun, and with that closeness was danger. She saw only a goofy young man while Dieredon swore she met with a killer. Only one of them could be right, but who?

Perhaps not, she wondered. Perhaps she saw the elf in Harruq while Dieredon saw the orc. The kindest man might become a brute when surrounded by other brutes. When Harruq was with his brother, or the strange man in black, how then did he behave? Could he kill? Could he murder?

She had to know. It took a simple invisibility spell to approach their rundown home unnoticed, her feet moving silently because of her natural elven grace. It was midday and the sun was high in the sky. Most of the murders occurred once darkness fell, and always when the child wandered into the forest to play. Lately no murders had been found, and Aurelia couldn’t decide if she should be worried or hopeful that they had stopped at the same time she had begun training with Harruq.