The Weight of Blood (The Half-Orcs, #1)(66)

“I will not die!”





17





Miles away, Harruq awoke screaming. Aurelia rushed to his side as he curled into a ball, shuddering frantically.

“He’s dead,” he said. Cold sweat covered his body. Remnants of his nightmare floated before his eyes, the icy voice of Velixar rolling over him in his vengeful fury. All he’d known, all he’d ever loved, was dead and gone. Only Karak had remained, furious at the loss. Through it all, one single fact pulsed as an undeniable truth.

“Velixar,” Harruq said, clutching Aurelia’s hands and sighing with a mixture of relief and terror. “He’s dead. I’m free.”

Aurelia kissed his forehead as the half-orc drifted back to sleep, still overcome with his exhaustion. To her eyes, it seemed he slept far better than he had before.



Qurrah did not know what to say or do as he watched his master die. His entire world had just come crashing down in the darkness. Above him were more than fifty elves, each one eager to bury an arrow in his back.

“Harruq,” he said, crawling amid the bodies. He desperately hoped none would spot him. He reached a large stinking corpse lying on its back with a golden arrow in its forehead. Qurrah shoved the cadaver onto its side, curled underneath, and then let it fall atop him. The weight crushed his fragile body and the smell was awful, but it was his only cover. Miserable, he hid there, quietly whispering.

“Where are you, Harruq?” he said, his face buried into the dirt. His tears fell to the grass. “Harruq, I need you. Where are you?”

Then he heard talking and shut his mouth.

“Are you alright, Dieredon?” an elf asked. The scoutmaster nodded, leaning heavily on his bow.

“I will be fine. His magic left my body upon his death.”

A neigh brought his attention upward. Sonowin landed next to him, her white hair stained red in places. She nuzzled the elf and snorted something.

“You worry too much, old girl,” Dieredon said, his voice cracking several times. He patted her once and then turned to the elf standing nearby. “How many did we lose?”

“Half. We paid dearly to kill this man.”

“A heavy price,” Dieredon said, gingerly climbing atop Sonowin. “Heavy, but well worth its weight in blood. A great evil has left this land. Let us return to Woodhaven, for this place of death turns my mouth sour.”

The two took to the air and joined the other survivors. They did not try to locate their dead among the hundreds of other rotting bodies. Instead, a few elves flew low and scattered firestones, small pebbles that burst into flame upon landing. Grass and bodies ignited, and the battlefield rapidly swelled into a giant funeral pyre.

Qurrah crawled out from underneath the body as flames erupted all around him. Everywhere he looked, he saw embers and corpses. He spotted the robes of Velixar and ran to them. He picked them up and shook them, furious that no body remained.

“You lied to me, Velixar,” Qurrah said. “You said you were eternal. You said you held the power of a god. But you lied. You are nothing but dust.”

Surrounded by fire and death, the half-orc stripped naked of his rags and donned the robes of his former master. Despite all the arrows and heat, they seemed in perfect condition. Even the stain of blood was already fading. Qurrah held the side of the hood to his mouth and coughed as the smoke grew ever thicker.

“Goodbye, Velixar,” he said. Then he chose a direction and staggered away. Slowly, and with a few wide curves through the carnage, he found a way out. He huddled the black robes tighter about his thin body, relishing the soft feel and perfect fit. Smoke clogged his lungs, but the stinking waves of it were lessening the farther he walked.

“Where are you, brother?” Qurrah asked once he could breathe freely. In the dark before the dawn, it seemed he would receive no answer.

At last, he could travel no more. He had no food, no destination, and no company. His limbs were weak and his head throbbed. To his knees he slumped, and he let time pass and his strength return, while his mind rumaged for ideas of how to proceed.



While the sun was still a sliver peeking over the horizon, Aurelia shook Harruq’s shoulders to wake him. She then sat back and put her hands to her forehead while the half-orc tried to remember where he was.

“Can you find him?” Harruq asked her, realizing what she was doing. He sat on his rear and began readjusting his armor to his more slender frame.

“In time,” she said. “I have met him only once, but I doubt there are any like him. Stay quiet and be patient.”

Her mind was a net, and she cast it further and further out, scanning the rolling hills and the plains beyond.

“Found him,” she whispered.



A blue portal ripped through the air before Qurrah, beckoning him. He looked through but saw only mists and distorted landscape. Seeing nothing to lose, he got to his feet and stepped inside. He felt the sensation of traveling a great distance yet his mind insisted he had taken only a single step. He could see the orange glow of the great pyre several miles away.

“Brother!” Harruq cried, wrapping him in a hug. Qurrah endured it, keeping his hands at his sides. “I was so worried about you!”

“Velixar is dead,” Qurrah said, eyeing Aurelia warily.

“We know,” the elf said. “It is well to meet you again, Qurrah.”