on his lips. I’ve seen the falseness of your kind. I’ve seen your light. It fucked me, Jerico, and whatever it takes I’ll fuck you too.”
The door opened. Tessanna let him go and stood as Qurrah entered. Shyness stole away her hatred and anger. She put her back to Jerico, her hands clasped behind her as if she were caught by a parent doing something bad.
“Hello, lover,” she said. “Come to help me play with my pet?”
“Perhaps some other time,” Qurrah said, his eyes glancing about. He saw Jerico’s pain, but the paladin doubted he could guess the reason.
“What is it, then?” Tessanna asked.
“The night is late,” he said. “I’ve found us a place to rest. Will you join me?”
“Of course.”
She put away her dagger and took Qurrah’s hand. As they left, Jerico leaned his head against the wall and did his best to ignore the pain.
“I’m sorry!” he shouted. Tessanna turned, her arm raised defensively and her eyes bewildered.
“I’m sorry,” he continued. “Whatever his name was, whatever he did to you, I’m sorry.”
She glared as if stabbed, then left the room without a word.
“W hat was that about?” Qurrah asked as he closed the door behind them.
“Just lies,” Tessanna said, apathy stealing over her. “All he knows are lies.”
“When I came in,” he said, then stopped. She turned to him, knowing his worry.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I won’t love him like I love you.”
Qurrah led her to a luxurious room reserved for noble guests, all the while thinking how, coming from her, what she had said meant so very little.
They slept in a luxurious bed with many violet bed sheets. His dreams were bleak, haunted by his brother’s face, always covered with tears. Always, he held the drowned body of his daughter.
Qurrah awoke to the sound of stirring from the small closet. Tessanna was rummaging through it, casting clothes to the floor. She was naked. Light streamed in through the windows.
“What are you doing?” he muttered.
“You lead an army that has conquered a kingdom,” she said, her back to him. “What does that make you, Qurrah? A king? A warlord? Does that make me your queen, Qurrah?”
“You are finer than any queen,” Qurrah said, sliding out of bed. “Prettier, and far less inbred.”
“Cute,” she said. “But if I am a queen, then I should dress like one.”
She pulled out a crimson dress. She smiled, then slipped it over her head. The fabric hung from her skinny body, the sleeves long and elegant. Gold trim lined the hem around the neck, sparkling in the low light. Tessanna flicked her hair behind her shoulders and smiled at her lover.
“Like?” she asked.
Her face gorgeous, her hair long and healthy, her dress thin and sensual and red: Qurrah could only laugh at such a ridiculous question.
“Of course I do,” he said. “You’re beautiful.”
She tilted her head so that he could see the ear she had cut. Already it had grown back, albeit a little pinker. The five scars on her face had faded, now only sharp lines that added an exoticness to her face. Qurrah was stunned by the rapid rate of her healing. Tessanna was the daughter of a goddess; of that he had no doubt.
“I won’t cut myself like that again,” she said, suddenly shy and quiet. “I don’t know why I did. Mommy had left me, and breaking, becoming me again, it suddenly felt so terrible. I couldn’t bear it, and you weren’t awake, not yet…”
“I’m awake now,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “And I’ll always be here for you.”
“The demons are ready to move out,” she said. “They want to hunt. Velixar has convinced them to leave the elves for later, for when we have more forces. The humans should be far easier prey.”
“Who will guard the portal should the elves attempt to destroy it?” Qurrah asked.
The girl shrugged. “Those that continue to pass through. It appears their army is limitless, and perhaps it is. This world is doomed, Qurrah, and I can’t wait until we escape to a new one.”
He kissed her neck. “Come. Let us survey this army.”
The two exited the castle to see tents covering the castle courtyard, all waving small banners with a yellow fist. Qurrah shook his head, but was not surprised. He had slept horribly that night, each demon passing through the portal sapping a bit more of his strength. He wondered if Velixar fared any better.
“Do you know how many?” Qurrah asked.
“They have almost a thousand,” Tessanna said. “But no more come through the portal. I think Ulamn is nervous.”
“As he should be,” Velixar said, coming up behind them from the castle. “He knows both of us are sorely taxed. He will bring in no more, not for a few weeks. I think the two of us could both use the rest.”
“When do we leave for Mordan?” Qurrah asked.
“Soon,” Velixar said. “But we have a few things to take care of first.”
He pointed to a group of orcs that made their way among the tents. They were led by their masters, Trummug and Gumgog, and each looked furious.
“We was lied to!” Gumgog shouted as they neared. “Lied! Lied!”
“Shaddup, Gumgog,” Trummug said, elbowing the orc before offering a clumsy bow to Velixar. “We not happy, pet of Karak. Not happy at all.”
“What is the matter?” Velixar asked, his smile condescending.
“You promised me an army and a kingdom,” Trummug said. “Yet we have nothing.”
“You raped and burned this city to a shadow of its former self,” Qurrah said, scratching his chin. “Was that not worth your losses?”
Gumgog heard this and roared with laughter.
“No, the fighting more than good, lopped off so many heads…”
“But your new pets, the demons, they do not care,” Trummug said. “They no like Karak. They not listen to us. They claim this city, but what we get? Not going back to the Wedge! We staying here!”
“Yeah!” the other orcs shouted in unison.
Velixar turned to his disciple. “What do you suggest?” he asked.
Qurrah shrugged. “If they want land, give them land. Ulamn and his soldiers only seek to crush the established order to sow chaos. They have no interest in such claims.”
“Indeed,” Velixar said. He raised his arms to the orc masters and gestured from east to west. “All about are lands, and I give them to you. Bring your brethren in from the Vile Wedge. Swarm the northern plains with your axes! Crush the Green Castle. Burn Felwood Castle to the ground. Neldar is yours.”
“All of it?” Trummug asked.
Velixar nodded, a small smile on his face. “All of it.”
The orcs raised their weapons and cheered. Gumgog led them away, screaming for death and blood. Qurrah watched him go, strangely envious of their careless nature.
“Ulamn is prepared to move out,” Velixar said, also watching the orcs leave. “His pride is stung from his defeat. He won’t admit it, but he is pushing his troops hard. He wants surprise on his side when they invade Omn.”
“What hope do they have to stand against this army?” Qurrah asked. “Surprise will mitigate some losses, but it is no matter.”
“Forget them for now,” Velixar said. “Ulamn is not the only one with an army to raise.”
The army sworn to Karak camped opposite Thulos’s war demons. Over a thousand undead stood perfectly still, raised from the slaughtered civilians, soldiers, and unfaithful. Filling the western streets were the dark paladins’ tents, each flying a flag of the lion’s skull. In the other direction, smaller, meager tents stood for the hundreds who passed the test of faith. These new converts wandered about with bandages over their hands and gray robes given to them from the storehouses of the priests’ temple. The remaining priests of Karak bunked with them, constantly preaching Karak’s glory.
“An impressive sight, isn’t it?” Velixar said as they arrived.
“I wonder how necessary the demons’ help truly is,” Qurrah said. “How many more dead might we add as we
