The Half-Orcs: Books 1-5

by David Dalglish

“Give your ring to her, Harruq Tun, and know Ashhur watches and blesses your love with his.”

  He took her outstretched hand and slid the ring on her finger. Whirlwinds of feathers tore through his chest. His head felt full of air.

  “Aurelia Thyne. The ring you hold represents your heart, which you give to your lover for eternal safekeeping. Do you give such sacredness freely?”

  “I do,” she said.

  “And Harruq Tun, do you willingly accept her love into safekeeping, for as long as you draw breath?”

  “I do,” he said.

  “Give your ring to him, Aurelia Thyne, and know Ashhur blesses your love.”

  Harruq stared at the ring sliding across his finger, a foreign thing, one he never thought to possess. When finished, the two interlocked their hands and stared into each other’s eyes as Delysia finished the ceremony.

  “Each of you holds the love of the other in your heart. Keep it sacred, and keep it close. May Ashhur forever bless and protect these two lovers before us all. Aurelia, you now are a member of the Tun family. Harruq, you may kiss your wife.”

  To a round of applause, Harruq took the elf in his arms, dipped her to one side, and kissed her.

  The feast was beyond anything the wizard had ever prepared. Roast quail, venison, boar, and mutton covered a single table, all seasoned with basil, sage, and rosemary. Another table was piled high with cheese, fish, ale-flavored bread, wild fruits, and assorted beers, meads, and wines. Covering all was a blended array of spices, some rare, some common. Each bite contained a hint of cloves, cinnamon, pepper, ginger, or nutmeg.

  When the feast was done, and the toasts were over, the guests said their goodbyes.

  “Come visit me some time,” Felewen said, hugging both. “Make sure you let me know when the babies are coming.”

  “Ha, ha, ha,” Harruq said, grinning at her. Dieredon left with her, bowing to Aurelia and offering only a quick word to Harruq.

  “Break her heart, I break you,” he said.

  “Will remember,” the half-orc replied. The two mounted Sonowin and soared off into the southern sky.

  Qurrah was last, his mood strangely quiet and somber.

  “You will come and visit again, won’t you?” Aurelia asked, offering him a curtsey. The half-orc bowed.

  “I will do my very best. To both of you, I offer my most sincere congratulations.”

  “You stay safe, brother,” Harruq said, hugging him. Qurrah chuckled.

  “Of course. You as well.”

  Another bow, and then he ventured into the forest, vanishing amid the trees. Harruq resumed eating a bit more, worried by that last troubled look on his brother’s face.

  “What are your plans for tonight?” Tarlak asked, sliding beside Harruq while Delysia distracted Aurelia.

  “What you mean?”

  “You know what I mean,” the wizard said, winking. “You do know what I mean, right?”

  Harruq flushed. “Of course I do. Just figured, you know, upstairs in my room and all.”

  Tarlak laughed and clapped his hands.

  “As a personal favor, I am paying for all of us to stay in a nice inn in Veldaren. The tower is yours for the night. Enjoy.”

  Harruq beamed at the wizard. “I owe you a lot, Tar.”

  “And you’ll pay me back one day. I have faith in you. But for now, the night is yours. It is time for us to go!”

  He clapped three times, and the rest of the Eschaton heard the signal and obeyed. They politely bowed and wished them well, entered the tower, returned with travel packs of clothes, and gathered at the door. Before they left, Haern trudged over to Harruq and removed his hood.

  “Just so you know, I am still expecting a sparring match tomorrow morning,” he told him. “Don’t overdo it.”

  “I’ll hold him in check,” Aurelia said, kissing the man on the cheek. “Now run off. Time for us to have a little quiet time, right Harruq?”

  “Right, Aurelia Tun,” he said, a dumb grin on his face. “Aurelia Tun. Sounds so funny.”

  The gang bounded off southeast. Harruq and Aurelia waved, standing in front of the door with arms intertwined.

  “Come on upstairs, love,” Aurelia said when they were gone. She kissed his cheek. Hand in hand, they hurried upstairs. When they arrived, they found flowers piled across their beds, a dizzying array of roses, tulips, and daisies, somehow alive even though winter was fast approaching.

  “I feel Tarlak’s hand in this,” Aurelia said, picking up one and gently pressing it against her lips.

  “Silly wizard, why would I…”

  He stopped as he watched Aurelia slowly drift the soft petals down her neck, lower, lower, lower.

  “Gods bless you, Tar,” Harruq said.

  The moon was a curved sliver of light illuminating a cold forest when Qurrah returned home. Tessanna sat before a fire she had built in the clearing before the front door.

  “How was it?” she asked, the red flame flickering off the black orbs that were her eyes.

  “Bearable,” he said, sitting opposite of her. “They love each other so very much.”

  “Some people are lucky enough to find and marry their love.” She grabbed a long stick and tossed it upon the fire. “And others never do. And then there is me.”

  “You’re no different,” Qurrah said. His voice was vile water spewing from his heart. “Are you incapable of love?”

  Tears ran down the sides of her face. Even so, her words carried no hint of the emotion she clearly felt.

  “I am capable of loving a man,” she said. “And men are capable of loving me. But death comes for all I love and claims them like a bitter thief.”

  Qurrah cast down his eyes, ashamed of his outburst. “Ignore my words. I have lost my brother.”

  Tessanna curled her legs against her chest and peered at him over her knees.

  “Do you wish to have me? It might help.”

  “No,” Qurrah said. “Let my brother do the taking tonight.” She stood to return to the house, but the half-orc stopped her. “Do not go,” he said. “Stay with me.”

  The girl smiled, beautiful amid the dreary night. Whether the smile was honest or false, Qurrah was too tired to care.

  “I will be inside my home,” she said. “Our home. Do not worry about what your brother does this night.”

  She entered the cabin, shutting the door softly behind her. He stared after her, the flickering fire popping and cracking. His mind ravaged itself. How dare he fall prey to weakness. His brother’s actions and choices were of no concern to him. If he found happiness in forsaking his blood and marrying an elf, then so be it. Philosophy was for the rich and the bored. Feeling was all that mattered. His brother felt happiness with her. He would feel happiness with Tessanna.

  He stood and kicked out the fire. Silent as a thief, he opened the door to their home. Upon the bed she waited, her clothes cast aside, as if she had known all along.

  “It is what we both want,” she said. “I care of nothing else.”

  “I know,” he said. He went to her.

  That night, both brothers slept with fire. One was bright and roaring, a controllable inferno that surrounded and engulfed. One was cold, a blue flame, burning without heat, turning to ash without the warmth of consumption. Blanketed by stars and separated by a great distance, both found peace in the fire.

  Of the two, only one created life.

  17

  Qurrah nestled in the old chair, a fire roaring at his side. In his lap was the book of Pelarak. Three times he had read it, analyzing every word. He was halfway through his fourth read, and still he marveled at the knowledge the cleric of Karak possessed. Outside, a heavy rain fell. Tessanna looked up from the bed, her small head poking out from a multi-blanket cocoon.

  “Shouldn’t you go?” she asked.

  The half-orc flipped a page, pretending not to hear.

  “You’ve been quiet,” she continued. “Impatient. Terrible in bed, even.”

  He flipped
another page.

  “I will visit their child in time.”

  She shrunk her head further into the blankets.

  “Will you start taking people again?” she asked. “Try making them like me?”

  Qurrah chuckled. He had decided over the winter that he preferred the child-like mentality of Tessanna best. The sarcastic, cynical form was next. Her angry side, her fearful side, and her apathetic side, well…

  He planned to get rid of those.

  “Yes. We have let enough time pass to safely take another. I have not forgotten my promise. In time, your mind will be healed.”

  “What about until then?”

  He glanced over. “Until then, we will make do with what we have.”

  They did not speak the rest of the day. Silence was not a thing either feared, nor did it imply anger or frustration. They could each dwell within the confines of their minds. Silence. It was a blessed thing.

  Her shrieking wail was horrible to hear. Harruq couldn’t imagine the pain causing it. Inside their room, Delysia attended to Aurelia, doing things he preferred to stay in the dark about. He crossed his arms, uncrossed them, paced back and forth, and muttered incoherently. Childbirth. Such a stressful thing.

  “What are you doing out here?” Tarlak asked as he came up the stairs.

  “Kicked me out,” Harruq said.

  “Making too much of a fuss, eh? Well, brawny men with more muscles than brains usually don’t mix too well with such delicate matters. I’ll see how things are going.”

  “Don’t go in there,” the half-orc said. Tarlak waved him off, opened the door, and slipped inside. Harruq counted to three on his fingers, timing it perfectly.

  “GET OUT OF HERE, NOW!”

  The door flung open, and out fled the wizard as if seven fire-breathing dragons chased him for supper. He slammed the door shut, straightened his hat, and then fixed his robes.

  “Kicked me out,” Tarlak said. Harruq rolled his eyes.

  “Don’t worry ol’ buddy,” the wizard said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’m sure Del has everything under control. Your child will be fine.”

  Another cry came from inside, sharp and focused. Both shuddered.

  “Something tells me we got the easy part,” Harruq said.

  “Amen to that.”

  Another cry came, soft and shrill. Both stood alert at the sound. No woman made that sound. It was the cry of a babe.

  “Aurry!” Harruq shouted, yanking open the door. His heart froze, and all things of the world fell away to a single image. On a bed, her hair frazzled and her face soaked with sweat, was the most beautiful woman Harruq had ever seen. In her arms, wrapped with towels, was a newborn child. His mind fought to grasp what he witnessed. His wife was holding his child. His child.

  “I’m a father,” he said breathlessly.

  “It’s a healthy girl,” Delysia said, towels in her hands covered with blood, fluid, and sweat. “What shall you name her?”

  Harruq slid beside his wife, his eyes mesmerized by the scrunched red face, swollen shut eyes, and tiny mouth of his crying child.

  “As we agreed. It’s a girl, so you get to name her, Aurry.”

  “Aullienna,” Aurelia said.

  “Aullienna,” Harruq repeated. “Gonna take some time before I can say that right.”

  “You’ll have plenty of time to learn it,” Tarlak said, smiling beside the door. “Think of how many times you’ll be shouting it. ‘Aullienna, stay away from my things. Aullienna, put down my sword. Aullienna, stop beating up Brug.’”

  Chubby hands reached from behind the door, and then the wizard was gone. A few seconds later, Brug ducked his head inside.

  “Good to hear you’re alright, Aurelia,” he said. He winked at the little babe. “Hope it’s a long time before you try beating up little old me, Aullienna.”

  Aurelia smiled, too tired to laugh.

  “I need to nurse her,” she told her husband. Harruq nodded, realized what that meant, and then nodded again.

  “Everybody out,” he said. “Private time.”

  As they were leaving, Haern slipped inside. He wore no hood or cloak, only a simple pair of pants and a shirt.

  “I come to pay my respects to the child,” Haern said.

  “Respects paid. My baby’s hungry, so time to go.”

  “Hush, Harruq,” Aurelia said, her voice distant and drowsy. She stroked a hand across Aullienna’s soft forehead. “We are grateful, Haern.”

  The assassin opened his hand and held it out. Flat across his palm was a long green ribbon with gold writing.

  “Tie it to her crib, for now,” Haern explained. “And when she is older, may it adorn her hair.”

  “Pretty,” Harruq said, not understanding the true importance. Aurelia, however, read the writing and smiled.

  “It is a noble gift, and a thoughtful one. We thank you.”

  “What’s it say?” the half-orc asked after Haern bowed and left.

  “May Ashhur’s eyes forever watch over this child, even as we of the Eschaton do the same. Such a token is given by men who pledge armies to ensure the safety of a child.” The elf smiled at her daughter. “I’ll take Haern over an army any day.”

  “Can’t argue with you there.”

  Down on the first floor, Harruq found Tarlak pacing.

  “Did my brother…?” Harruq asked.

  “No sign,” the wizard said. “I’m sure he is very happy for you.”

  “I’m sure he is too,” he said, none too convincingly. He grinned at Tarlak. “You realize I’m a dad now? A dad! I’m a father!”

  “Aye, that you are,” the wizard said. “Scary as the abyss, isn’t it?”

  “Scarier,” Harruq said. “Far, far scarier.”

  They moved Aurelia and Aullienna into the Tun’s room later that night. Harruq carried the little babe in his arms, beaming as if his face had been frozen that way.

  “Welcome to your home,” he said, opening their new door slowly, with an unrehearsed theatrical flair. Aurelia kissed his cheek as she carefully came in behind him.

  Due to carefully cast spells, the room was transformed into something more akin to a forest. Illusions enchanted the walls so they appeared, in touch, taste, and smell, to be covered with ivy. The floor was a carpet of smooth, short grass. As for a ceiling, there was none, not to the naked eye. Puffy clouds floated above on a gentle breeze. A single tree marked the center of the room, winding upward with branches positioned as steps. At the top was a cradle, thick and sturdy. Near the tree was a bed, covered with a great blanket of flowers. The entire room felt open, natural, and above all else, like a private home.

  “Kind of bright for nighttime, don’t you think?” Harruq asked. In answer, Aurelia snapped her fingers twice. The blue sky turned purple, and a sparkling field of stars covered the ceiling. The soft breeze vanished, and in its absence came the constant drone of cicadas. Aullienna was fast asleep, so she failed to show her amazement. The half-orc grumbled.

  “One day she’ll be old enough to know how neat that is,” he said.

  “Shush, you’ll wake her.” Aurelia took her from his arms and glided up the tree-steps to the crib. She laid her inside and stroked her face.

  “I never expected to have a child,” she said, cooing as she felt Harruq’s arms wrap around her. “Never expected any of this.”

  “If you expected to marry a bumbling half-orc when you were a youngling, then something was wrong with you.”

  Aurelia reached back, put a hand around her husband’s head, and pulled him close so she could kiss him.

  “She looks elven,” she said when their lips parted. “Nearly full blood, even.”

  “Guess we can be thankful for that,” he said. “It’ll help her be accepted. No shame in my orc blood, I just know her life will be easier without it showing.”

  “It does show,” Aurelia said. “She’s bigger than most elven babes. She’ll grow tall, like her father.”

  “Is she going
to wield swords and beat people senseless, too?” he asked.

  “Only if daddy wants to get his cute ass fireballed,” Aurelia said with a wink.

  Harruq kissed from her neck to her ear.

  “A tradeoff I’ll take any day,” he whispered. “Just to watch it drive you crazy.”

  “Oh, but I am already there,” she said, running a hand down his face. “I married you, didn’t I?”

  “That’s right, you did. Why’d you do that?”

  “Because I love you, dimwit.”

  He flipped her around and kissed her lips. “Don’t you forget it, either.”

  “Never,” she said, smiling up at him. “Never in a million years.”

  After waking three times to attend the crying child, Aurelia’s eyes didn’t even flutter when the half-orc slid off the bed. He crossed his arms as if cold, although a soft, phantasmal breeze blew from the walls, warm and comforting. Up the stairs he climbed, his steps surprisingly silent for his bulk. Aullienna was sound asleep on her back, her fat face turned away from him. He reached out to touch her. Halfway there, his hand froze, unable to move any closer.

  “How many did we kill, Qurrah?” he asked, a lump in his throat. His voice was a raspy whisper among the cicadas. “You were wrong. This life is not suffering. We were wrong, brother. We did…”

  His finger brushed her face. He recoiled as if touched by fire. His foot slipped on a stair. He went down, slamming his knee on the top step. A sharp intake of air marked his pain. Kneeling there, clutching his leg, he fought back the tears. The girl. He had seen the girl, the one clutching her stuffed doll in the village of Cornrows. Like an animal, he had butchered her, driven his blade through that pretty face and those blue eyes.

  You’re an orc, aren’t you?

  “We were wrong,” he whispered. He smashed his fist against his thigh. He remembered the mother who had held the child in her arms when he took their lives. All those questions he had wondered, they came thrashing back, for now he had the answers. They were a vile blade in his gut. Unable to hold back the tears, he sobbed there, a broken man.

  When hands touched his back, he turned and snarled like the beast he felt he was. Before the sight of his wife, tired and worried, he could not remain such a thing. When she extended her arms, he accepted. In her embrace, he cried until his sorrow subdued.