“Long as you hold council with paladins and angels, you are compromised. Forgive me, Antonil. You have impressed me with your courage, but after tomorrow, we are kings of adjacent nations, and nothing more.”
F or once, Velixar was too busy planning and praying to spend the night tormenting Qurrah, so he and Tess fled to the far reaches of the camp in hope of solitude. Without a fire, they cuddled together. So glad to have him there, she did not mind the chill of his skin.
“They are not far,” Qurrah said, staring north. In the distance burned the fires of Antonil’s camp, tiny spots glowing among the hills. “I wonder if Harruq is among them. Will I sense his death, if it happens? Or was he among the dead floating in the water when we crossed the Bloodbrick?”
“Your brother will find a better death than that,” Tessanna said, gently stroking the dried blood on the front of his robe. “Though I fear he finds it tomorrow.”
They fell silent, but Qurrah could not let the thought hang in the air unspoken.
“And at my hand,” he whispered.
Tessanna closed her eyes and tilted her face into the cloth of his robe.
“We are slaves, you and I,” she said. “What freedom is there for us? Can you fight him? Should he give the order, could you stay your hand?”
“I don’t think so,” he said. “Velixar has ruined me. He drove a wedge between us, helped kill Aullienna, and will now complete his work. As long as Harruq lives, he knows I will hold to hope. One by one, the pure moments of my past die. You will be the last, I know it. I know it, and I can do nothing to stop it. This is the Abyss, Tessanna. Swords and fire cannot compare to my torment now. To know and yet be powerless to stop the sins I have been commanded to commit. What will I say when Harruq bleeds before me? What can I hope for other than my own death, and at his hand? A final death…”
She clutched him tight, and her sobs grew loud enough for him to hear.
“Don’t talk like that,” she said between sniffles. “Don’t talk like there’s no hope. There has to be. Damn every god and goddess if there isn’t.”
He felt his anger flare at her words, but she was right, and he wished that he had something, anything, to say to convince her things would turn out all right. But what could he say? What lies did he know that she would believe?
“I love you, Tess,” he said. “Everything else is cold and frightening. But I do love you. Please know that.”
She curled into a ball on his lap and shivered as his arms surrounded her.
“If only your body was as warm as your words,” she said. “Dead or alive, Qurrah, I’ll always be yours. Never forget that.”
“I promise,” he said.
28
T here was only one plan Bernard would accept, and he told them of it that morning.
“Everywhere people whisper of Antonil’s return,” he told the two assassins while they gathered within the small basement of an Ashhur sympathizer. “And you yourself saw the many fires in the distance. Whatever chance they have, it dies against the dragon Melorak has summoned.”
“You don’t know that,” Veliana insisted.
“How many soldiers could they have?” Bernard asked. “Even with the angels’ help, they will die by the hundreds against that beast. It must be destroyed. You saw how weak Melorak looked. The strain of keeping that dragon in existence must be a heavy toll. Against him, I have a chance.”
“Then let us come with you,” Deathmask said. “He’ll have guards, paladins…”
The priest shook his head.
“He’ll have his undead, and they are nothing to me. The rest will be at the wall. This is the last battle, and he knows it. Even if he has a few guards, I must rely on his pride to accept a challenge. I am a priest of his most hated enemy, and to refuse would be a sign of weakness, a direct insult he will not dare allow. You two must find a way to get Antonil inside the city.”
Deathmask rolled his eyes.
“We meet here in a dark cellar, just the three of us, so you can tell me and Vel to go open the massive gates to the two walls? Have you lost your mind, old man?”
Bernard smiled. “Perhaps. But Haern is still out there, and as long as we are separate, he will hunt for you. I need him far and away, unable to help Melorak should the duel turn to my favor. The city is ripe for rebellion. The oppression is too heavy, too brutal. Find a way to get Antonil into Mordeina’s streets, and the Lionsguard will be crushed beneath their heels.”
“Reckless and stupid,” Veliana said. “You ask for the impossible. Thousands of soldiers and archers will line every inch of that wall. Deathmask’s magic is strong, but even he can’t pulverize doors that enormous.”
“I have faith you’ll find a way,” the priest said, placing a hand on each of their shoulders.
“And I have faith in nothing,” Deathmask said. “Other than that we’re all going to die if we do this.”
“I’d hoped you’d have a bit more faith than that,” Bernard said.
Deathmask slipped the gray cloth over his scarred face and scattered ash into the air.
“I do,” he said as the ash revolved around his head. “Faith that I’ll kill plenty before I meet the reaper-man. Go with your god, Bernard. If he’s not too far gone, maybe he’ll send us a miracle. Right now, we need one.”
A shhur’s army marched for the capital before dawn had fully bloomed, determined to lose no distance to Thulos’s chasing army. The Eschaton stayed with Ahaesarus and his angels, who walked upon the ground in an attempt to give hope and cheer to the many soldiers.
“How far back are they?” Tarlak asked after a half hour’s march.
Ahaesarus motioned for one of his few scouts in the air. The angel swooped low and gave his report.
“Two miles at most,” said the angel. “And gaining fast.”
“They’ll come upon us before we can even reach the first of the walls,” Tarlak said, frowning.
“Then we have little time to spare,” said Ahaesarus. “When the battle starts, we will fly to Avlimar and set up formations. The display should be enough to goad Thulos into battle.”
“Don’t forget to bring us with you,” said Harruq. “I want my crack at that Thulos.”
“You had one back in Veldaren,” Aurelia said, her frown showing what she thought of the idea. “You ended up with a horrible wound in your chest.”
“Still breathing, though,” Harruq said. “And now I’ve got something to pay him back for!”
Twenty minutes later they crossed through a thin collection of hills, weaving through them along a well-worn path in the grass. Mordeina came into view, banners waving from her walls. High above, Avlimar glittered like a second sun.
“Urge them on,” Ahaesarus said to Antonil after receiving another report from his scout. “We might not reach the walls at the pace they chase!”
Onward they marched, the great city of Mordeina growing ever closer. Harruq felt his nerves gather in his throat, and he started wishing the battle would begin at any moment. Their run to the city didn’t feel like an attack; it felt like a desperate retreat. Perhaps it even was. Most likely they would die crushed against the walls. Still, if they were lucky, they might take a god with them before the end.
The city loomed nearer. The banners flapped in the soft breeze, close enough now for them to read their sigils. They saw the many archers lining the walls, more than enough to make the half-orc shiver. They would assault under a rain of arrows, of that he was certain. He looked back to the thousands that followed, a collected force from Neldar, Ker, and Mordan. Armies of three nations, come together against the might of Karak. And that wasn’t counting the angels and war demons…
“This is going to get bloody,” he muttered, shaking his head.
Aurelia squeezed his hand, showing she heard. He kissed her cheek and continued on marching.
They were trampling the short grass upon the fields before the walls when the scout returned once more, this time looking frightened.
“A quarter of a mile, if that,” he said. “They have thousands of what appear to be undead, plus many more
