after, the guards giving them curious looks but allowing them by.
They passed through the gates and immediately turned left, to where the second gate was swung inward. The passage between the two walls was narrow, and Harruq kept looking to the sky to fight his claustrophobia. Eight people could stand side to side within the gap, and at sight of the archers atop either wall, he couldn’t imagine being an attacker against the city.
“Queen Baedan has been looking forward to your arrival for some time,” the commander said as they walked. “Of course, she had hoped for more pleasant circumstances, but we will do what we can to help your people survive.”
They passed through the second set of doors and into the city. Tarlak whistled and nudged Harruq, pointing at the great expanse of white stone houses stretching to either side. A massive road ran straight through the heart of the city to the castle. Along either side of the road, large slabs of rectangular stone formed walls in front of each alley or street. Any army passing through would be funneled through, with only a handful of guards required to block off the gaps. Waiting at the end of the road was the castle, its six towers filled with windows, and in each window was an archer. Antonil shook his head, wondering how many more might have survived the siege of Veldaren if he’d had such defenses. There was no mistaking it; Ashhur had built Mordeina for war.
“We’ve planned several spaces for your people to live,” the commander continued as they approached the castle. The road was empty, with soldiers filling the gaps in the center wall to keep the curious away. “The land between the walls goes for a mile in both directions, and should suffice for a camp for the healthier among you. We also have a few stretches of field on the western side of the city that you may camp upon. Many of our citizens have volunteered their homes as well. Of course, royalty such as yourself is welcome to stay in our castle.”
“This generosity is far beyond anything I could have hoped for,” Antonil said, meaning every word.
“Her majesty has a kind heart,” the commander said. “We will not leave so many to starve, not on our doorstep. We have wagons coming in with wheat and corn from the outlying towns. Our storehouses in the city are plentiful as well. Do not feel yourself a burden. Should these dark days pass, a renewed friendship between our kingdoms would be well worth the price.”
The castle’s doors swung open, a roaring lion molded from black steel on their fronts. Harruq winced at the sight. He remembered Tarlak mentioning once that priests of Karak were far more open in Mordan than they had been in Neldar. He wondered just how much of that was true.
At first the hallway was narrow, with two separate turns to slow attackers, and then suddenly they entered a gigantic chamber, twenty times taller than any man there. Columns decorated with banners ran along either side of the red carpet. At the other side of the room, sitting in her throne atop a raised dais, waited the queen.
“Please, for all that is holy, behave,” Tarlak said to Harruq.
“I’m not an idiot,” Harruq grumbled.
The queen stood. She wore an elegant dress of lavender and a silver crown atop her auburn hair. Her skin had a few wrinkles that seemed to vanish when she smiled, and her eyes sparkled with life.
“Your majesty,” the commander said as he saluted. “I present to you King Antonil Copernus of Neldar, and his servants.”
“Servants?” Harruq muttered. Aurelia jabbed him with her elbow to silence him.
“We are most humbled, your majesty,” Antonil said as he bowed on one knee. “I can only dream of repaying the kindness you have shown us.”
Queen Annabelle dismissed the compliment with a wave of her hand.
“Too long our nations have acted as strangers to one another, more prepared for war than friendship.” She was smiling at Antonil, but her eyes glanced to Aurelia, who kept her head low and her face to the floor.
“Your friend,” she said, gesturing to the elf. “What is her name?”
“Aurelia Tun,” Aurelia answered, shaking her head so that her pointed ears were clearly visible through her hair. “Elf of Dezerea.”
At that Annabelle winced, and Antonil’s heart doubled in pace. Never had he heard Aurelia introduce herself as such. He had no delusions as to why she did so now.
“Dezerea,” the queen said, her smile vanishing from her painted face. “That is a name I have not heard in years. But Tun does not sound like an elvish name. What was it before you crossed the rivers?”
She took Harruq’s hand in hers and met the queen’s gaze.
“Thyne,” she said.
The corner of Annabelle’s mouth quivered as she fought off a second frown.
“Your parents killed a thousand of my husband’s soldiers,” the queen said. “My libraries have books devoted to the sheer power and tactics demonstrated at Bloodbrick Bridge. Tell me, Aurelia Tun, daughter of Kindren and Aullienna Thyne, do you hate me?”
Annabelle carefully approached the elf, taking each step with a gentle pause. Harruq winced, his wife’s grip on his hand excruciating. He could see Tarlak and Antonil waiting for an answer, each one tensed as if someone were about to strike.
“No,” Aurelia said at last. “I have done my best to forgive. I bear you no anger, nor blame.”
Queen Annabelle closed her eyes and shook her head. Then, to their shock, she fell to one knee.
“I was but a child,” she said, “married because of my bloodline to King Marcus Baedan. I held no sway then, but I still feel his shame. Aurelia, elf of Dezerea, will you accept my apology, and the apology of the Mordan humans, for what we have done to your people and your home?”
Aurelia’s mouth dropped open. She didn’t know what to say. Harruq nudged her, and she shook her head as if coming out of a daze.
“I am not royalty,” she said. “Nor am I revered among my own kind. I do not know if I am worthy to accept such an apology, but I will accept it in the spirit it is offered. Please stand, your majesty, you need not kneel to me.”
Queen Annabelle stood, and she beamed at the elf.
“I have long wanted to atone for my husband’s ignorance,” she said, returning to her throne. “But I have not known how. Perhaps you can help me with such an enormous task.”
She looked to her commander, who stood to the side of her throne.
“You may send in my advisors,” she told him. “We have much to discuss.”
The commander bowed and exited a door to the side of the chamber. Harruq kissed Aurelia on the cheek, chuckling at how flustered she seemed.
“I was prepared for exile, imprisonment, even her to execute me,” Aurelia whispered to him.
“Didn’t expect that, eh?” Harruq asked.
“No. Not one bit.”
Tarlak leaned in and joined the whispering.
“Think you can use a bit of her guilt to get us a fancy room?” he asked. “I’m pretty tired of sleeping in a tent.”
“Shush,” said Aurelia.
“I hate to bring attention to darker matters,” Queen Annabelle said, “but I must ask more about the tragedy that brings you to my city. My scouts warned of your arrival, but have had little more to offer me about the fate of Neldar.”
“An army marched upon our city,” Antonil said. “One of all vile races. Orcs, hyena-men, wolf-men, bird-men, and even the dead, assaulted our city. They were led by a man named Velixar, one who has long been a servant of Karak.”
Advisors poured into the room, twelve by Harruq’s count. Most wore elegant clothes and abundant jewelry, but one in particular stood out. He wore a simple gray robe, and hanging from his neck was a pendant shaped like the skull of a lion.
“Karak?” that advisor asked. “For what reason would Karak want your city destroyed?”
Antonil glared.
“And who are you to question the word of a king?” he asked.
“Silence, Hayden,” Annabelle said. “You show our guests disrespect unfitting of a priest.”
Harruq shifted side to side, his hands on the hilts of his swords. Next to him, he saw Tarlak’s fists clench white, tiny sparks flicking off his knuckles.
“Karak has tried several times to break through the walls of our city,” Antonil continued. “And there is no
