by Ethan Spears
“Besides Ezma, I was the only one who knew every step of her plan—or at least the gears that were set in motion—up to the moment of her death. You two did not meet by fate and, though I don’t know where we go from here, I’ll be damned if I let you idiots die before your task is complete.”
“So, you sent Mergau to find me, knowing she would try to kill me and barely avoid a mortal wound herself?” Aoden said icily.
“Not just that,” he said turning to look Mergau straight on. “Ezma was behind the events that made you seek the elf in the first place.”
“Seek me?” said Aoden. He was still under the impression she had run into him by chance, but neither of the room’s other occupants were paying him any mind. Mergau looked even more furious than she did about the stabbing.
“My brother!” she shouted, pushing herself off the wall and advancing. “Ezma had my brother killed?!”
“That’s mad,” said Aoden. “To avert a disaster by killing innocent people? That can’t be true.”
“But it is,” said Tabir. “She orchestrated everything: the clan exchange where you brother met your sister-in-law, so they would marry; the drought that made your clan risk moving through the elven forests, where your brother would die, leaving you with no choice but to turn to your new sister. Living there, you would find your way to Ezma to be taught how to find and kill the half-elf whose arrow slew your brother. And by making her death appear as a murder, a Gelta warrior would stop you before you could slay said half-elf and you two could finally meet.”
Aoden’s mouth hung open in disbelief. “So the… the vengeance you were after… it was against me?”
She turned on him and furiously pumped power into her illusion, bursting it with a gust of air. “Have you ever even looked at my face? Ever given it a second thought?”
“Mergau, calm down. I don’t—what did he say about—?”
“Just look at my face!” she shouted, all her confusion and anger at everyone being directed towards Aoden. “Does it mean nothing to you? Doesn’t it look familiar at all?”
Aoden took a step back. “What am I supposed to see?”
Mergau’s leaped forward, her fist collided with his face. He reeled backward, stumbling over his feet and hitting the ground.
“Damn you!” she cried. “Gods damn you! Why don’t you recognize me? You haven’t recognized me since we met! Were my people so insignificant? Do you not remember when you and your elves ambushed us in the forest and murdered the men and boys? You killed my entire clan! You killed my brother!”
She kicked a chair out of the way and approached him. “An arrow in the neck,” she spat, so angry that her body shook. “He was a mighty warrior, and he didn’t even have a chance to pull out his sword. He died mere feet from me, sputtering in the dirt. And I looked up and saw you in the trees, killing my people like it meant nothing to you. And then you stood before me, you and your filthy elves laughing, laughing while the dead lay warm at your feet!”
“I would never laugh at that,” he said, wiping his bloodied nose.
“Don’t you lie to me!”
“I wasn’t! I was told when we laid our ambush that it was a war party, not a tribe! I had to make a choice between letting my men kill everyone or saving the women and children. I chose the latter and I will not be made to feel ashamed of it.”
“We didn’t need your gods-damned pity!”
Tabir stood between them. “Don’t be angry with the elf,” he said.
“You stay the hell out of this,” she hissed, trying to push him out of the way.
“Aoden was as much a pawn as you were.”
“I made my own choices and I will take responsibility for them,” said Aoden, joining Mergau in pushing him.
“Not so, I’m afraid. Do you remember your stopover in Handock?”
Aoden froze, a sickly prickling in his stomach. “What about it?”
“Ezma was behind that as well.”
“Nonsense. She couldn’t—”
“She did. False reports of orc sightings to the west requiring a patrol. Your patrol was sent since the patrol that should have gone in your place was indisposed from rancid meat. Passing near the city, you were overcome with nostalgia and stopped therein, making you late to meet the envoy. The Archon, annoyed already with the presence of a halfling, sent you off to handle the orcish war party—another piece of misinformation spread by our order—instead of the original party, who would’ve slaughtered every last member of Mergau’s tribe,” he looked at the orc, “Mergau included.”
“That’s impossible. That’s… convoluted.”
“Ten years of plotting, Aoden. Ezma did nothing but plan for ten years. She was nothing if not a meticulous planner. If you’re going to be mad at anyone,” he said, stepping out from between them once more, “be angry at Ezma. You two can be angry at me and try to throw that fireball you’re forming, but not only will it do me no harm, it will do you no good. I and my order are just as much pieces on the board as you two are, but now we’re without our queen.”
He enveloped Mergau’s incoming fireball with his hand, vanishing it.
“Your deaths have already been averted,” he continued. “I’ve done what I’ve come to do, but I’m clearly no longer welcome here. I’m sure you two have much to discuss. I’ll see myself out.”
“No,” said Aoden sharply as Tabir turned to the door. His hand moved instinctively to his blade, but the smarting in his wrist made him stop. “If this Ezma woman is behind everything that has happened these past few months, then I have ten dead elves that someone needs to answer for.”
Tabir turned back and gave him a look so etched with grief and regret that Aoden’s own feeling became confused. Tabir picked up his still soggy cloak from the floor and tossed it over his shoulder. Neither elf nor orc tried to stop him as he opened the door and let himself out into the pouring rain.
“The weather will be much better tomorrow,” he observed. “I’d suggest a walk.” And with that, he closed the door.
Chapter 22
Man and Orc
Mergau awoke to find Aoden already up and about. Or perhaps he never slept? Either way, he was cooking breakfast on the stovetop.
Mergau sat at the table. At first, she watched Aoden cook, but her eyes soon fell as she receded into her own thoughts. She wasn’t there long before Aoden placed a plate in front of her filled with an egg and vegetable stir-fry. He sat across from her and fell silently to eating.
After Tabir left, they sat in the main room of the halfling house for several long minutes, each trying to broach the obvious subject, but neither could. Mergau eventually stood up and left. She locked and barricaded her door. They each went to sleep without dinner and Mergau was ravenous, so whatever there was between them now couldn’t stop her from eating.
They ate in silence, the only sound being cutlery clinking against plates and the occasional shout or birdsong wafting through the shutters. Finally, Aoden spoke.
“Do you still intend to kill me?” he asked.
She poked at her eggs. Did she want to kill him? Even if he had been played for a fool just as she was, he was still her brother’s killer. Did she not have a duty that she had sworn herself to? To find and kill this half-elf? But it felt pointless. Could she even call Aoden Larna’s killer? Who would the gods send to duel her brother for eternity? Would it really be Aoden? Or was it Ezma? Or the elven generals? Would Larna be trapped in the afterlife under a pile of his hundreds of foes?
“I don’t know,” she answered. “You weren’t responsible for Larna’s death, but you were still the one who ultimately slew him. The customs of my people are not clear in this situation.”
Her breakfast was disappearing at an alarming rate. If she finished, she would have to look at him again. She had to slow down.
“Could we at least agree that you won’t try to kill me until you find out?”
There was only a bit of egg left.
“I suppose,” she said
glumly. She expected him to comment on the tone of her voice, but he said nothing. She found herself preferring the night before when their anger and emotions were free. Now she just felt confusion and mental fatigue.
Her plate was removed. She didn’t remember finishing and Aoden looked like he barely touched his own. The elf took their plates to the washing basin and cleaned them in silence.
“What about you?” asked Mergau. “Now that you know I’ve only been traveling with you for vengeance, what do we do now?”
He scrubbed in silence. “I think,” he said at last, his attention still on their dishes, “it’s best if we stick together.”
For some reason, Mergau’s spirits rose. “Why?”
“You mean aside from the giant of a man who disabled us both like it was child’s play when we refused to play along? And that there’s an order of seers that seems to have us by the throat? How about that neither of us has anywhere to go or anyone to depend on? It’s all been taken from us. I don’t want to travel alone. I’d rather travel with someone I hate than be alone.”
The words hurt her. “Do you hate me?”
“That’s not what I meant,” he said. “I was just thinking about my life over the last forty years.”
He struck the wash basin with a fist. “I don’t know who you are. The reason you’ve always been distant and unwilling to talk about yourself is obvious now, but that doesn’t make us any less strangers. We’ve both almost died for the other yet until last night I couldn’t list one fact about you. That’s ridiculous. Has everything we said to one another been a sham, prearranged by some woman who didn’t even have the decency to introduce herself to me?” He stopped washing. “What the hell does it matter, anyway?” he added, placing the plates on a rack to dry and turning to face her.
Mergau was right to think he might not have slept. His face was pale, his eyes were bloodshot and baggy, and his lip and nose were both swollen where she had punched him. One night shouldn’t make anyone look that ragged, but she supposed he had a lot to think about.
“Should I travel with you? Should we part company? I don’t know what to do,” she said miserably. “My life has for a long time revolved around finding you. I did a lot of things I regret to find you. Now I’m here, you’re still alive, and I don’t even know how I feel about that. To follow you still…” she shook her head in dismay.
He cocked his head. “Why didn’t you kill me before?” Genuine interest managed to creep into his voice. “You had opportunities. I wasn’t exactly taking measures to protect myself.”
Mergau gave the merest suggestion of a shrug. “I don’t know. I was more than ready to die before I met you. In my mind, you were just an emotionless monster, not a person. Had I not been stabbed by that Gelta warrior, I certainly would have acted against you without a second thought. I’m sorry,” she added before she could stop herself.
Aoden cleared his throat. “For what it’s worth—and perhaps it’s worth nothing, but for what it’s worth—I truly am sorry about your brother.”
Mergau nodded. She knew he meant it. “Without my magic,” she said, “I had no choice but to go along with whatever was happening. I couldn’t bear the idea of losing track of you once I’d found you, so I stuck close. Then, by surrounding myself with the entirety of the elven army, I couldn’t make a move, or I’d have died before I could do what I intended. But the longer I stayed around you, the more I saw you weren’t a mindless murderer or even a callous soldier. I was annoyed to find that you were actually a pretty good person. It was clear that I couldn’t just act while you slept or were distracted. You deserved the same consideration a warrior of my clan deserved. But with those revelations, I no longer knew how to interact with you. Now, I don’t think it would bring me any satisfaction.”
It all made sense to her in a flash. She had never tried vocalizing her concerns but, now that she had, it was obvious why she never struck the half-elf down: it would be a repeat of the same injustice done to her brother. Nothing would be resolved. Larna’s spirit would know peace, but the conflict between orc and elf would only escalate, leading to a thousand more like Larna. She felt certain Ezma had tried to teach her something along those lines, but she failed to grasp it at the time.
“I suppose I’m safe for five days, at any rate,” said Aoden. “According to Tabir,” he added under his breath. “Are you sure he’s trustworthy?”
“He’s a peer of my teacher,” she said.
“The same one who orchestrated this whole parade of horrors and murder,” He reminded her.
Mergau faltered. “Even so, she saved both our lives.” She shook her head. “But they wouldn’t be in danger if it weren’t for her… Ah, this is all so confusing! I want to trust Ezma and Tabir, but I’m having a hard time justifying it.”
She stood up suddenly. “We’ll go for a walk.”
“What?”
“That’s what Tabir said before he left. He suggested we go for a walk today. There must be something special about it.”
“That would be a strange comment to make offhand,” Aoden agreed.
Mergau felt energetic. She had something to push these heavy thoughts out of her head, however temporarily. She snatched up clothing for them, tossed some jerky and bread in a satchel, and gave her face a quick scrubbing.
Aoden took the clothes she thrust at him and dressed. A walk was something, but he was still suspicious of Tabir, the seers, and the deepening morass this had become. He let himself out as Mergau dressed.
Once outside, he allowed himself to breathe freely to relieve the tension within him. He wouldn’t voice it, not to her, but he couldn’t sleep knowing that she was in the house with him and had very recently seriously considered murdering him. He couldn’t even blame her for it; even now he wanted to find and gut Keenas’s apprentices. And Keenas too, if it turned out he gave the order that killed his men.
It had also not escaped his attention that she was talking about ‘acting against’ him and ‘doing what she intended,’ but she couldn’t bring herself to say ‘kill.’ She had wanted to kill him. To know that she slept soundly while he stayed awake and alert made him feel craven. He sighed and leaned against the house, looking at the sky. The sun was low in the east, but the clouds had cleared, signaling the weeks-long storm was finally over. At least they’d be accompanied by the lively smell of wet grass and dirt.
Grass and dirt.
Sputtering in the dirt.
The phrase came to Aoden unbidden. ‘He died mere feet from me, sputtering in the dirt.’ His throat felt tight. Last night, he insisted that he had done the right thing, but had he? Was partaking in the massacre of a hundred warriors the best alternative? He’d taken part in a dozen such ambushes, but he’d never met anyone affected by one. It was so easy to dismiss it as duty, but now that he’d been forced to give it thought, he knew there must be hundreds, perhaps thousands of orcs who would long for his death if they knew who he was. Would they be willing to trade their lives for his as Mergau had been? The thought of all that hatred directed at him made him feel hollow. It was a burning void, like an emotion should go there, but the gods decided mortal hearts couldn’t handle it.
It was only the fatigue from his long nighttime vigil that cooled it to the tepid horror it was now, and the sound of Mergau approaching the door that made him press it down below the surface.
Mergau came out looking every bit the elegant elven damsel. It was only then that he realized he spoke to her in her true orcish form that morning. Was he really so tired?
The illusion made him think of something.
“It seems you were under the impression that you were a seer. Does it bother you that you’re not?” he asked as they wandered down the road.
Mergau frowned. “I hadn’t thought of that.” She fell to silence. Aoden cursed himself. The walk just started, and already he had shut down the conversation. Where was that inner diplomat of his? Was he asleep? Why did he get to sleep when Aoden didn’t?
He cursed himself again as her countenance darkened at the mention of Ezma’s name.
“I have a lot of things concerning my mistress to consider,” she said. “I don’t know what to think about her and would rather not right now.”
He’d already turned the conversation sour, so he figured he would go for broke. “Would you mind answering something else, then?” She nodded. “When we met in the forest,” he said, phrasing the slaughter of her clan as tactfully as he could manage, “we were quite a ways from Doddin’s Line—quite a ways west, that is.”
“And you want to know how we got there.”
“How isn’t a bad question, I suppose, but I was more interested in what you were doing there, and why. Your clan knew the forest was elf land—the huge mountains separating our continents being the most obvious indicator—so why did you all come over when you knew the risks?”
“That’s a long and uninteresting story,” she said.
“Oh, apologies. I just figured that we had a long walk ahead of us and plenty of time to fill, but no, it’s fine, I understand. We’ll talk about something else, like how I killed your brother and you’ve been following me for months to murder me in my sleep. Let’s talk about that.” He tried to give her a feigned polite smile, but more than a little coldness crept in.