“Don’t,” Jerico said, desperately searching for something, anything, to spare them. “Please don’t, there is no need for this.”
“You made your decision,” Velixar said. “You agreed to let them die, all so you could claim Ashhur still watches over their souls! Is he still watching? Does he weep yet?”
“If they’re to die,” Jerico said, gut churning as he said the words, “then let it be by my hand, without pain or torture.”
At this Karak’s prophet crossed his arms, suddenly intrigued.
“You would murder innocent children?” he asked. “Your priorities confuse me, paladin.”
“Give me a weapon,” Jerico said, ignoring him. “If the blame is mine, then let me spill the blood.”
“So be it.” Velixar held out his hand, and one of the dark paladins handed over his sword. Jerico took it, running a finger over the blade. It was sharp and well-cared for. He approached the two children, who huddled together as they cried. Jerico felt many eyes upon him, and he knew his time was short.
“Shush now,” he told the two. He knelt before them, his sword laying across his knee. “Shush, and listen to me.”
The older girl stopped her sniffling, while the little boy buried his face into the girl’s skirt.
“They killed mom,” the girl said. “They’re going to kill us too.”
“Put that away for now,” Jerico said, his voice just above a whisper. The less the dark paladins heard, the better. “I want to ask you something, something important. Have you prayed to Ashhur before?”
“A little,” she said, nodding.
“Good,” he said. “Now I want you to pray he’ll watch over you. Pray he forgives all your wrongs, and that you accept the love he gives you. Can you do that?”
Again she nodded. He put his hand on top of the boy’s head and prayed just that for him as well.
“Whatever you do,” he told the children. “Don’t move.”
He stood, gripping the large sword with both hands. He raised the weapon to strike.
“Guide my blade,” he prayed to Ashhur, then spun. He cut the first dark paladin’s throat, and in a smooth motion, took two steps and buried half his sword in the other’s stomach. Krieger yelped in surprise, just barely drawing his sword in time to block Jerico’s strike. He blocked the next two hits as well, and then Jerico leaped back, searching for Velixar.
Two snakes made of shadow sprung from the earth and bit his ankles. Their vile poison seeped into him, immediately turning his world into tumultuous disorder. He saw a twisting, swirled version of Krieger lunge, and then something hard smashed against his face. Blood splattered from his nose. He fell back, still searching. He caught glimpse of a black robe. Without hesitation he turned and swung. He felt his sword connect. He swung again. Laughter met his ears, and then stabbing pain filled his back. A fist slammed his head, and down he went.
“You damn fool,” he heard Velixar say. Jerico sighed. He should have known the retched man would never die. Velixar grabbed him by his hair and lifted his face.
“Look at what you’ve done,” Velixar said. Through blurry eyes the paladin saw the bodies of the children, crumpled together and soaked with blood.
“You killed them,” Velixar said. “Children. Are you still so holy, paladin?”
“The heart is all that matters,” Jerico said, a grin on his bloodied face. “And I will not weep for them. Ashhur has them now, not you.”
Krieger kicked him in the chin, hard enough Jerico thought he’d bit his tongue in two. Blood poured from his mouth. Velixar took the sword from his hand and stood.
“Kill him,” he told Krieger.
“With pleasure,” the dark paladin said.
“You will not!”
Jerico glanced to his right, to where Tessanna pushed her way through the rows of undead that surrounded them. He wondered how long she’d been watching.
“He is mine,” she said, purple smoke swirling about her fingers. “Not yours. You will not kill him.”
“He has killed two of my men,” Krieger said, his sword wreathed in black flame. “I have every right to slay him.”
“I will kill you if you try,” she said. The dark paladin looked to Velixar.
“You are the stronger,” Krieger said. “It is our laws that govern now. The paladin must die. Give me the order.”
Velixar’s face darkened, and his shifting features quickened their dance. Standing a few rows behind Tessanna was Qurrah, watching the proceedings with quiet intensity. They were both sorely taxed by keeping the portal open in Veldaren. Could either stop Tessanna if they tried? He didn’t know. And he didn’t know how Qurrah would react. No doubt he wanted Jerico dead, but at the cost of Tessanna’s life? Definitely not.
“No,” Velixar said at last. “I gave my word. Jerico is Tessanna’s to kill.”
Krieger slowly sheathed his swords, furious.
“Bloody and painful,” he said, glaring at Tessanna. “If it isn’t, and soon, you’ll have my blades to worry about.”
She smiled at him.
“I never worry,” she said. “Not about one such as you.”
As the dark paladin stormed off, he gave a look to Velixar, one the man in black well understood. Krieger’s confidence in him was broken.
“Take him and go,” Velixar said to Tessanna. “Twice now I have put my trust in you, girl of the goddess. Do not make me a fool.”
He left for the village, determined to add more to his ranks of undead. Karak’s servants followed, leaving Qurrah and Tessanna alone with the bloodied paladin.
“Is he worth that much to you?” Qurrah asked her.
“He is my toy, my plaything,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ears.
“Is that all?” he asked. He left without giving her a chance to answer.
T hat night, Tessanna stirred Jerico from his fitful sleep. He sat up, crossed his arms, and stared.
“What?” he asked, his body rocking side to side. She was sitting cross-legged before him, a strange look of contemplation on her face.
“I asked you once if everyone deserved forgiveness,” she said. “You couldn’t answer. Now you can. You’ve seen what I’ve done, what we do. Do I deserve forgiveness?”
Jerico swallowed, ignoring the pain it caused his swollen tongue.
“No,” he said. “You don’t.”
She frowned at him. “But you offered it to me anyway.”
He nodded. “Aye. I did.”
“Why?”
At this he chuckled. “That’s what we call grace.”
“I’ve killed people,” she said. “Tortured them. Stole the blood from their bodies. I am everything Ashhur hates.”
“Listen, Tess,” Jerico said. “Either everyone deserves grace, or no one. There’s no rankings, no greater and lesser sins. Either we do Ashhur’s will, or we don’t. Either we love him, or we don’t. That is the simple truth I offer. And you can accept it or reject it. Your choice. If Ashhur forgives you, then I must as well. I don’t have a choice in the matter.”
She looked down at the scars on her arms. She ran a hand over them.
“My father,” she said. “You say I should forgive my father?”
“Yes,” he said.
“You don’t know what he did,” she said, her voice growing soft, quiet.
“It doesn’t matter.”
She looked up at him. The soft voice vanished in the blink of an eye.
“I’ll tell you anyway,” she said, standing. “He raped me. Just a child, but I was his toy. You want me to forgive that?”
She drew her knife. Jerico closed his eyes and lay back down. He had seen this before, granted not in
