The Prison of Angels h-6 Read online

  Harruq held back his groan.

  “All right,” he said, pushing himself to his feet. “I guess we can’t be rude. Aurry?”

  “I’ll be fine,” Aurelia said, standing as well. “But I’m not staying cooped up in here. Aubby, Greg, let’s go to the gardens.”

  With a quick motion of her hands she ripped open a swirling blue portal, kissed Harruq on the cheek, and then pushed the children through. After she stepped inside the portal vanished, leaving Harruq and Susan alone.

  “Lead on,” he said, and the queen did. Back into the throne room they went, Harruq plopping into a seat he had already grown to hate. The long hall before the throne was empty but for a single man, who entered through the double doors without waiting for approval. Harruq reminded himself to yell at the guards.

  “Welcome,” Harruq said, his voice anything but.

  “Yes, welcome,” Susan said, having waited to speak as a sign of respect. She opened her arms and smiled.

  Kevin Maryll accepted the embrace, then kissed his sister on the cheek. He had the same soft face as his sister, but his eyes were hard. His hair was dark, cut short, as was his beard.

  “My dear Susan,” he said, “my sympathies for what you must yet again endure.”

  “The castle is not so empty that I will suffer,” she said, then stepped back so she might gesture to Harruq. “Besides, I have a steward to train, and he does much to keep me entertained.”

  Harruq opened his mouth, then closed it. For once, he really didn’t know what to say.

  “Ah yes, the Godslayer,” Kevin said. He walked to the foot of the throne and then bowed to one knee. “Consider me honored to be in your presence.”

  Harruq bit his tongue. He’d met Kevin several times, and each meeting had been painful, filled with awkward moments due to Kevin’s inability to discuss anything other than what was most pressing to him. And since the Gods’ War, that had been one thing and one thing only.

  “I hear the city has taken a restless turn,” said Susan, trying to draw his attention back to her. “I pray your travel here was uneventful.”

  “Oh, far from,” Kevin said, his eyes never leaving Harruq’s. “But for my safety, I trust my sword, not prayers. Men surrounded me from the moment I stepped into these streets. Everywhere I went I heard their shouts. Unrest, fury, distrust and betrayal all about me as I made my way to the castle.”

  “What did they want?” Harruq asked.

  Kevin gave him a look, a combination of condescension and inflated self-worth that nearly ignited his temper.

  “Why, for me to continue talking, of course,” Kevin said. “For at last I was telling them the truth they’ve been aching to hear.”

  And that was it, of course. Harruq tried, and failed, to hide his annoyance. Of all the opponents to the angels’ new role in society, none were more vocal, and more popular, than Kevin Maryll. The fact that he was the queen’s brother gave him a freedom to speak and act that many others could not, or dare not, use so blatantly.

  “The angels are here to help,” Harruq said. “And it’s only because of them we’re not bowing to Karak.”

  “And so instead we bow to Ashhur and give thanks for being spared such a horrific fate. We bow, even as they raise their executioner’s blade.”

  “Enough, please,” Susan interrupted. “I will have no bickering. Kevin, let me fetch you a servant. There are dozens of rooms here in the castle, and they are all available to you during your stay.”

  Kevin took his sister’s hand and kissed it.

  “I have places to be, and goals to accomplish,” he said. “And sadly, I cannot do either cooped up in the castle. I merely wished to ensure my little baby sister was doing well in her husband’s unnecessary absence.”

  Harruq swallowed hard. Every sentence had a jab to it, hidden or otherwise. As with the angels, none were more outspoken against King Antonil’s rule than Kevin. With the army marching east for another war, it took little for Kevin to draw an audience for his grumblings. But how many listened? Harruq didn’t know. That type of politics was beyond him. He had a sword, and he smacked things with it really good. Now if only he could do the same to Kevin…

  “My lord and husband’s absence is for the good of Mordan, and for all Dezrel,” Susan said, a bit of fire leaking into her voice.

  “Of course it is,” Kevin said, all smiles. He bowed low, winked at Harruq, and then turned to leave. Harruq watched until he was gone, the guards shutting the doors behind him with a heavy thud, and then smacked the arm of his chair with his fist. The outburst seemed unusually loud, and he immediately felt childish when he saw Susan watching him.

  “Do you remember when I said I’d let you know when striking someone with a sword was an appropriate diplomatic response?” she asked. Harruq lifted an eyebrow. “Sometimes I wish we didn’t have to act so appropriately.”

  Harruq laughed. It felt good to do so.

  “Come on,” he said, standing. “I don’t want to sit here fuming about your idiot brother. Let’s find where Aurry’s taken our kids.”

  “I have other duties I must attend,” Susan said, offering him a curtsey. “Go be with your family.”

  “Is it anything I should know about?” he asked, not liking the worry she hid behind her eyes.

  “If Kevin is rallying people, giving speeches…I despise the need, but he must be watched. Let me handle this matter, Harruq. He is still family, despite how much he might hate my husband.”

  “Whoever you have watch him, make sure it’s not an angel.”

  Harruq grinned, but the humor fell flat. There was too much worry, too much truth to the joke to laugh. On impulse he took her hand and kissed it, much like Kevin had.

  “You’ll do fine,” he said. “We’ll all be fine. No matter how many speeches your brother gives, there’s only so much he can accomplish. We’re guarded by angels, Susan. It’s not like he can start a war. And if he does, well, you’ll have the nastiest bodyguard around. I’ve killed a god before, did you know that?”

  “I’ve heard rumors.” She pulled free her hand, rubbed it with her other. “Take care, Harruq, and pray the time passes swiftly. Antonil will be gone for so long, and in my nightmares I see him returning to a kingdom of ash.”

  “No,” Harruq said, shaking his head as he headed for the door. “I gave everything to save this city, this land. It won’t be ash, Susan, no matter how hard anyone might try.”

  “And if someone does try?” he heard her ask.

  He looked over his shoulder, flashed his best smile.

  “Then I’ll act inappropriately.”

  5

  As Tessanna prepared the last of her things, Qurrah went out behind their cabin to where his undead servant patiently waited. The body was that of a stout man, no doubt a hardy fellow when he’d still drawn breath. Qurrah ran a hand down the side of his face, feeling the necrotic energy still flowing through it. King Bram had given them the land, in honor of their desire to be free of both angels and men in the wake of the Gods’ War. It had been abandoned for many years, left for the forest to slowly reclaim it. They’d chased away the weeds, cleared away the animals, and in doing so discovered the old family grave.

  He’d been dead for at least ten years, but that hardly mattered to Qurrah. From the ground he’d summoned the skeleton and, with Tessanna’s help, slowly applied a false flesh to hide the bones and rot. No soul remained in it, for Qurrah would not subject anyone to that punishment, not ever again. The thing was a useful tool, nothing more. They’d not bothered to name him, just like Qurrah had never named his robes or the burning whip he still kept coiled around his arms when he felt afraid.

  “You have been good to us,” Qurrah said, hand still touching the thing’s face. “Rest now, and return to the dust. We have need of you no more.”

  He pulled in his strength through the contact, the powerful magic returning to him. The servant collapsed, the false flesh becoming a gray powder that hovered in the air like a fog. T
he bones thudded dully, covered by worn clothes and a bit of hair. Qurrah looked at it, feeling a bit sad. It was definitely good he had not named the mindless thing. He’d grown attached to it as it was.

  From the ground he looked up, forcing his attention to the forest around them. In the past few years he’d developed a greater appreciation for the wilderness, for the song of the birds and the rustle of the leaves as the wind blew through them. In it he sensed a peace that would forever elude him. But at least it was a peace he could be close to. At least he could try to steal its comfort like the leech he often was in life.

  “Qurrah?” Tessanna called, stepping out from the cabin. The half-orc glanced her way.

  “Here,” he said.

  She placed a small bag beside the door of the cabin and then joined his side, looping her arms around his elbow. Leaning against him, she looked to the pile of bones and clothes.

  “He was a good servant,” she said.

  “True. Always quiet, never intruded when he wasn’t wanted.”

  Tessanna laughed.

  “We should have brought him with us to Mordeina. He could have carried our things.”

  Qurrah tried to match Tessanna’s mirth but could not.

  “I’d prefer we travel unknown,” he said. “Having a dead man attending our needs would not help in that regard.”

  She kissed his cheek.

  “You worry too much. What does it matter if we draw attention? They can do nothing to us.”

  Qurrah went to the cabin and picked up his own satchel, stuffed full of books, spare clothes, and, coiled at the very bottom, his whip. Slinging it over his shoulder, he rejoined Tessanna, who waited patiently on the edge of the road leading out of the forest. Azariah had said he would return for their answer, but Qurrah had no intention of waiting. Better they leave now, before any sort of preparations might be made for their arrival. When the angel returned to the cabin and found it empty, he trusted Azariah to know what their choice had been.

  “How far?” she asked him as he looked one last time at their home.

  “Just shy of the border,” he told her. “Azariah said that the people of Mordan are threatening to turn on Antonil. I would hear their whispers for myself. Perhaps outside the city walls I may help my brother more than at his side.”

  Tessanna nodded, then closed her eyes. Lifting her arms, she whispered words of magic, her slender fingers clenched. The fabric of reality tore, a swirling black portal ripping open before them with a sudden gust of air. Its substance was shadow, and in its depths was the faint swirling of stars. Without hesitation Qurrah stepped inside, felt the familiar sense of vertigo, and then stepped out many miles away. Tessanna followed. From the corner of his eye he saw her stumble, and dropping his satchel he turned to catch her as she heaved. Bloody vomit spilled from her mouth, splattering on the grass below, and her arms clutched him with terrified strength.

  “It’s nothing,” she said when she was able to breathe. “Nothing.”

  But it wasn’t, Qurrah knew. The old Tess could have sent them halfway around the world without batting an eye. She sensed his unease, though, and pushed him away.

  “We’re here,” she said, wiping her mouth. “So lead on, dear husband.”

  He retrieved his satchel, biting his tongue to prevent a fight. To force his mind off her, he looked about to see where, exactly, she’d taken them. They were in the shadows of a forest, the tree trunks slender, the bark a pale brown. The area around them was flat and covered with knee-high grass, so that despite the distance they could still see the river flowing a quarter-mile ahead.

  “That way,” Tessanna said, gesturing northeast. “The bridge shouldn’t be far.”

  Her voice was already growing stronger, and it helped put Qurrah’s mind at ease. Taking her hand in his, they began walking. The tall grass annoyed him, and he thought of the ticks and chiggers that might be crawling up his robes. With a thought he made his feet trail a dark cloud. Wherever he stepped the grass wilted, any insects unable to flee in time falling to their backs and dying.

  “I thought we weren’t to attract attention,” Tessanna said.

  “We’re not in civilization yet.”

  The immediate area around the river was rocky, left barren and muddy from the spring rains. The two followed alongside it, and as the day crawled along they saw their first sign of the bridge in the distance.

  “The Bloodbrick, correct?” Qurrah asked.

  “You said you wanted to be at the border, so here we are.”

  The Corinth River formed the barrier between the two nations of Ker and Mordan, with the Bloodbrick as the only significant crossing. In times past it had been left unguarded, with Ker nothing more than a puppet of the other kingdom. But then the Gods’ War had come, and in return for Bram overthrowing his demon rulers, Antonil had severed all ties between the two nations. More importantly, he’d vowed to keep Ker fully independent of Avlimar and her angels.

  So when Qurrah saw the army massed at the southern side of the Bloodbrick, he was far from surprised.

  “Such paranoia,” Qurrah said as they walked through the thin mud.

  “Is it?” Tessanna asked. “Azariah implied the people were ready to rebel. And he did not say it, but what if they seek to rebel against the angels as well? Bram may have good reason to fear.”

  Qurrah shrugged. Bram had always come across as a man ready to believe the worst in anything, though that hardly made him a defeatist. No, it just made him that much more prepared for when trouble did arrive. Of the four nations, Neldar and Omn had been thoroughly destroyed and overtaken by orcs. Mordan’s capital had been ravaged by battle and her countryside left in shambles from rebellion. But Ker, however…Ker had thrived, left nearly untouched by the devastation. And so her power had grown, as had the arrogance of her king.

  “Should we disguise ourselves?” he asked as the bridge neared.

  “No,” Tessanna said, and her tone left no room for argument. “I tire of hiding. If we are recognized, we are recognized. I walked at the side of gods and prophets. I will fear no lowly border guard.”

  “That’s more than a border guard,” Qurrah said, frowning. By his best guess, at least ten thousand men gathered in various camps. The idea that Bram might be planning an invasion was preposterous, but then why such a strong show of force? He didn’t like it. And with that many eyes, there were bound to be a few who’d recognize them. Neither were particularly inconspicuous looking, him with his gray skin, orcish face, and curved ears, and Tessanna with the body of a goddess, long black hair, and those solid black eyes. He longed to use a disguise, but Tessanna had made her opinion clear, and he would not challenge her, not on this. At least the scars beneath his eyes were gone, having fallen away when Azariah returned life to his dead flesh after the demon god’s death.

  “I need no magic to sense your fear,” she said, holding his hand as they approached the army. “We’ve come to help your brother, yes? Then perhaps we may do some good here, for I doubt an army gathering at his southern doorstep is there without reason.”

  They veered farther from the river, so they might travel along the road before they reached the army protecting the bridge. The nearer they came, the stranger the sight. They weren’t even checking those who traveled into the nation, only out. Qurrah squeezed Tessanna’s hand tight as they approached the first dozen tents.

  “They don’t even look for spies,” he said quietly to her.

  “Perhaps they only fear the spies that fly through the air?”

  He shrugged.

  “Then why did Azariah not mention it to us?”

  “Perhaps he didn’t know it to mention?”

  The soldiers milled about, some gambling, some singing and playing simple instruments, while a good many drank. Only a few kept their attention on the road, and they had the bored look of someone forced into duty.

  “Stay on the path,” one said as they passed. “No gawking, no begging, no selling wares.”

&n
bsp; “Not even these wares?” Tessanna said, tilting her head back a little to better show her breasts. Qurrah pulled her along before the soldier could respond.

  “Are you out of your mind?” he hissed.

  “Do you know of a better way to learn information than from a man’s bed? Whores learn secrets spies cannot.”

  She returned his look with a dull gaze, then giggled as if she were a little girl.

  “You’re cute when you’re jealous,” she said, letting the matter drop. The concentration of soldiers thickened the closer they moved to the bridge. Ahead of them rode a large group, an apparent family traveling north with all their possessions. Their single wagon was loaded with belongings, and at the first stone of the Bloodbrick they were stopped and lazily searched over by two men holding halberds. A third guard stepped in front of Qurrah and Tessanna and lifted his hand.

  “Hold up,” he said, offering no other words than that. He glanced back, watching the others search the wagon. Qurrah bit his tongue, and in the very center of the encampment he waited, trying not to look nervous. He felt stupid for being nervous in the first place, but it’d been five years since he’d been around people in general, let alone a large army. Tessanna was right-he really had been hiding from society in their cabin. Of course, standing in the middle of ten thousand men felt like a horrible time to realize it.

  “Is there something they search for?” Qurrah asked, thinking he might try to learn something instead of standing there shuffling his weight from foot to foot.

  “Keep your tongue behind your teeth,” the soldier said, barely giving him a glance. “I’m not here for questions. Just wait your turn.”

  “You made the man mad,” Tessanna said, still seeming terribly amused by everything.

  “Mad?” the soldier asked, actually turning to face them. “Girl, you haven’t…”

  He stopped and stood perfectly still, his jaw hanging open the tiniest bit. There was no mistaking his gaze, which focused on her strange eyes.

  “Your name,” the soldier said.

  “I thought you weren’t here for questions,” Qurrah said, feeling his heart speed up. Ignoring him, the soldier drew the sword at his hip.