The Deceiver

In the first year or two after I emerged from exile, the histories do not mention me. Even the ones about me tend to spend no more than a paragraph or two, explaining that I settled in Castellandria with my brides, and had the first of my children. This is broadly accurate, though it discounts those children I sired unknowingly in my early adventures. It is enough for the more heroic histories, but it is not enough for this particular chronicle.

What looked from the outside as a brief time of peace was for me one of reunion. I have spoken already of the rekindling of my friendship with Lyta Sullac and returning to Castellandria and establishing my household, but there were others I needed to see. My exile had been long, and I wanted to end it definitively.

It was a strange group that exited the western gates of Castellandria on that autumn morning. Three of us, the experienced riders, rode qobads. Three more rode in a carriage pulled by two of the birds. A beautiful feathered serpent, her white feathers shining with rainbows in the early golden sunlight, flew over us.

Princess Tanyth, her loyal warmaid Shaluvia, and I rode the birds. My own Ksenaëe was my mount, never a more loyal bird fledged in all of Kharsoom. Sarakiel drove the carriage, Belazei beside her, cradling little Arkohnus.

The others stayed at Azureview. Lysethe was pregnant, Ujaala and the handmaids caring for her. Zhahllaia would ably run the household. They would miss this particular journey, but it would not be the last.

The Hallian Walls, the layered defensive walls of the city were forbidding from the outside. They were the reason the city hadn't fallen in a thousand years. A marvel of engineering and foresight, I would soon get to know the stretch along the eastern side of the city well.

The defenses did not begin with the walls. A series of rolling mounds and trenches surrounded the city like ripples about a stone dropped into a pond. The roads were strong, but they were only wide enough for caravans, meaning any siege engines would be forced to make their way over the soil. I would gain an appreciation for these layers soon enough.

The path wound down along the coast of the Turquoise, where the standing stones waited on a small cliff overlooking the sea. I began my incantation, plucking the traveler's wind from my lungs and placing us upon the path. Tanyth and Shaluvia were by now accustomed to this mode of travel as it had taken us from Uazica to this very place. This was the first time for Sarakiel, Belazei, and little Arkohnus. My daughter's already expansive eyes grew even wider as we slipped into the Hinterlands.

We traveled along the secret roads of magic, emerging that night to the north, in a flyspeck of a kingdom whose name I could never remember. It was autumn in Chassudor, and the air grew chillier the farther north we ranged. Tanyth and Shaluvia huddled miserably in their cloaks. Even Sarakiel looked less than hale, accustomed as she was to the mild climate of Castellandria.

Belazei, Quiyahui, and I found the weather bracing. Belazei could not stop talking about the dense forests and all the strange creatures she spied. I tried to explain that badgers were hardly rare in this part of the world, but she didn't care. The world was a wonder for her.

As I would on every stop where we could not find a large enough body of water, I conjured a small rainstorm for Belazei. She bathed in it, emerging happy and refreshed even as the rest of our group huddled about a campfire.

The trip was a short one, especially as compared to the last. We had to cross half of Thür then. This was only a distance across Chassudor. In only a few days we emerged from the same collection of standing stones that greeted me the first time I traveled this way, when I was still so young. Iarveiros rose to the east, the silvery trunks and golden leaves of the xilquinal trees glittering in the sun. It was a jewel set in a verdant crown. The foliage all around was a mix of deep greens, reds, oranges, and yellows, a glorious palette of natural beauty. Though this was not my first trip to the nation of the elves, even I had to stop and gaze in wonder.

"When we first went to Uazica," Tanyth said, "I thought that surely, these were all the trees in the world. That no other place could come close. And now..."

"I wasn't ready to see Iarveiros the first time either," I said.

"I have seen plants thus," Belazei said. "They grow where the ocean drops away, before the abyss. They are not that color, though. The shades, the lights, they are for places the sun never touches."

The standing stones initially did not look distant from the stand of trees to the east, but as one approached, the distance seemed to stretch. It was the effect of the trees being far taller than the mind believed was possible, continuing to climb without apparent stop. By the time we were in the shadow of the forest, they were bigger than the sky.

The road led a short distance into the forest itself, and then appeared to stop. Fallen logs, thick undergrowth, and closely-packed trunks made it look like there was no way out. I knew this to be false. The forest was honeycombed with pathways known only to the elves.

As though summoned, half-elven sentries stepped from the dark, wearing the Tree of Iarveiros on their tabards, and carrying bows. I knew there to be more out in the gloom, and still more in the treetops above. The sentries were most concerned with Quiyahui, keeping a wary eye on the serpent.

I remembered how Zhahllaia had introduced me last time, and I wished she had been there now to once again serve as my wazira. "Belromanazar of Thunderhead, lord of Eirashtar and leilatha to Duchess Tarasynora. I am here to see my consort."

"Welcome to Iarveiros," said one. "We will see to your mounts."

We surrendered qobad and carriage to them, and I led my party up the nearby staircase that wrapped about the trees. Belazei walked beside me, staring about in wonder. Tanyth and Sarakiel were behind, Sarakiel carrying our son on her back, his little face looking about with the same mad confusion babies regard everything. Shaluvia was last, her hands resting upon the pommels of her blades.

Belazei ran her hand over the intricately-worked banister. "This is grown, not sculpted," she said.

"One of the techniques of the elves," I said.

"Incredible," Tanyth said. Certain places in Kharsoom were wooded, but they were rare, and even the densest of the forests there could not compare to the jungles of Uazica or the woodland of the elves.

As we reached the top of the staircase, we stepped out into the city of Laerothia. The elven city was an elegant collection of walkways, bridges, and paths, encircling and weaving through the trees just below the canopy. One could stand on the forest floor and never know it was there. Buildings were hollowed out from the trees themselves, or cultivated from the plants. Gardens, streams, and all manner of natural features grew up here. Elves didn't draw strong distinctions between indoors and outdoors when in their city, with sumptuous couches on pathways and ponds blooming with life inside houses.

Elves, in their finery, moved about singly or in pairs. Half-elves, either armored as sentries or liveried as footmen, went about their errands. Half-elven archers waited in shadowed alcoves overlooking the forest floor, ready to feather unwelcome arrivals with arrows.

I took a moment to get my bearings, the avenues of my memory rebuilding the path to Tara's home. She was my second love, someone precious to me. A half-elven page roused me from my reverie. He was a handsome lad, and looked to be less than a decade old. I was not certain how half-elves matured, so his true age was a mystery.

"Belromanazar? Elion Tarasynora bade me escort you to her residence." The seriousness in his small voice brought a smile to my face.

"Thank you for your assistance. May I know how your name?"

"Galan, my lord," he said, bowing deeply. "It is my honor."

The little page escorted us down the avenues of the city. Sculpted wood, they blended harmoniously into the trees, with no demarcation between the entirely natural and the artificial. I knew the way there better than the boy did, but followed anyway. I was surprised when we turned down a street I did not recognize. The boy seemed to know where he was going, and Ur-Anu gave me no warnings of attack.

We arrived at a grand compound stretching over several treetops, all connected with elegant bridges and arches. An open archway led into an expansive garden. In the elven style, the outdoors became the indoors without a clean line between them. It was an enchanted glen and a rich manse all at once.

As Galan led us through the arched gates, Tarasynora waited on the central path, on a bridge over a pond alive with fish and salamanders.

She was as lovely as I remembered. Tall and slender like all of her kind, her platinum blonde hair was secured in an elegant chignon. Her lavender skin and violet eyes were set off by the golden gown that hugged her form. Her jewelry was also gold, sparkling with rubies. She was as elegant as her city, and the sight of her filled me with love. I had not realized how much I missed her until then, and I was already counting the moments until I could once again lay with her.

"Bel," she said, a smile lighting her face. "I was so pleased to receive your message."

I went to her, and took her in my arms. Our lips met, and I parted them with my tongue. "I missed you."

"Not so much time has passed for me, but I have missed you as well. You have changed," she said, looking me over as I released her, keeping one arm about her waist. Her teeth worried her lip as she devoured me with her violet gaze.

"I have been told that."

She tore her eyes from my chest. "Would you be so kind as to introduce your companions?"

I introduced everyone. Tara was overjoyed to meet Tanyth.

"Your Highness! I should not be surprised my Bel made such a fine match."

"I could say the same to you, Your Grace. You are even more beautiful than he described."

I made my way to Belazei, and once again Tara stopped me in delight.

"Bel, you cad. You never told me you had a daughter."

"I never knew," I said.

"Once again, I should not be surprised. If I find you irresistible, others must as well."

"He has a son too," Sarakiel said pointedly.

"A lovely son," Tara said, turning to gesture at her home. "Please, come in. I've refreshments waiting for all of you."

She led to the main structure, a series of raised platforms, some with as many as three walls and a few with partial rooftops. At the rear of this open maze was a long table set with plates of bread, fruit, honey, and meat sliced thinner than paper. Servants filled goblets with sweet, golden wine as we all sat to eat. Belazei didn't stay long, quickly slipping into one of the ponds, emerging only for more food.

"Tell me, Bel," Tara said, "what could have happened to you in so short a time that would bring about these changes? Your body, your familiar, your bride."

"I had a period of exile. A shipwreck half a world away, and then I wandered."

"Where you found yourself in Kharsoom." She turned to Tanyth. "Tell me, how did my leilatha court a princess of the Red Wastes?"

"He rescued me from a fiend who thought to force me into marriage. He and my warmaid pursued us to his castle, broke in, and fought their way out with me in tow. When that prince came to my castle's doors to take me back, Bel bravely fought and slew the champion. After that, I could not help but love him."

"He did something similar for me."

"Oh?"

"I was abducted by an orcish chieftain. When my husband refused to mount a rescue, my leilasa contacted our Bel, who came swiftly and rescued me from my humiliating circumstances. He then deduced that it was my husband, thinking to seize my family's considerable holdings, who engineered the abduction. Bel challenged and slew him in single combat."

"He seems to have a penchant for that," Tanyth said affectionately.

"Where is Ellisyr's sword?" Tara asked. "Forgive me. I noticed you weren't carrying it."

"At the bottom of the Lapis, I'm afraid, along with those elven garments you gave me. All were lost in the shipwreck."

"That's unfortunate," she pouted. "Although from the looks of the weapon you carry now, you hardly have need of an elven blade."

"No, not anymore."

"You will allow me to gift you a new wardrobe. I will not have my leilatha clad in less than the finest raiment. I trust you won't object."

"Oh no. I miss those elven robes."

"You as well," Tara said to Tanyth. "The spouse of a leilatha holds a place of honor."

"Sarakiel should be garbed then as well," Tanyth said.

"For certain," Tara said. "You will need to tell me of your family's heraldry, Your Highness."

"Please, we don't need to stand on ceremony. Tanyth."

"Tarasynora, then. Bel calls me Tara, and it would please me if you would do the same."

"Have you married again?" I asked. I was curious to meet her husband. This relationship of ours was strange, but I had grown used to the idea of sharing her thus. I had killed the last one, but I had no intention of repeating that particular deed.

A musical laugh escaped her. "Bel, I am in mourning." She gestured at her gown. When she saw the blank expression in my eyes, she continued. "This shade of gold, autumn gold, is the color of mourning for my people."

"Then this is the season of mourning."

"Indeed it is."

"How long is the mourning period?"

"A century would be unconscionably brief," she said. "But there are already a few potential suitors sniffing around. They would not have me cut my mourning short, but I believe they want to establish their intentions early."

"With your fortune and Ellisyr's..."

"I will accept nothing less than a prince." She nodded to Tanyth. "As did you."

"I am not a prince," I said.

"His proper title is lord," Tanyth supplied.

"Look what we have made of ourselves, Bel. When I first laid eyes on you, I thought I saw something special. I was right. That was why I took you as my leilatha."

"And I thought it was the pleasure I brought you."

She blushed violet. "That did not hurt."

Soon, we retired for the night, Tara showing us to our quarters. Shaluvia was given a small room, while Belazei was allowed to spend the night in one of the ponds. That left Quiyahui, Tanyth, Sarakiel, Arkohnus, and I in an expansive bedchamber.

As Sarakiel gently nursed the babe, Tanyth spoke animatedly. "This place is wondrous. Your Tarasynora is so wonderfully elegant. Oh, Bel, what a wonder."

"I am glad you like it here. Tara seemed to like you as well,"

"I am so glad of that. Zhahllaia told me somewhat to expect, though she was perhaps pessimistic. She did say this union of yours gives us immense political power, but I think she might have been too cautious."

"Sarakiel?" I asked. "You've been quiet."

She looked up, and a shadow passed over her face. "I miss home," she said. She had been quiet since our arrival, but that was not too unusual. She tended to retreat into her shell whenever she was in unfamiliar surroundings. It was obvious there was something she was not saying, but I did not want to press her.

"We will not stay for too long," I promised. "There is the matter of my other errand here. Once I finish that, we can return."

"Do you remember what I said about Tanyth?" Sarakiel asked suddenly. "I told you that there is a certain way I am looked upon as a darkling, and Tanyth never looked at me like that, and that is why I loved her immediately."

Tanyth couldn't help herself and took Sarakiel's hand. "I did not know that."

"I remember."

"Tarasynora had that look."

An excuse leapt to my lips, but I swallowed it. Instead, I kissed Sarakiel's cheek. "We will leave soon, my love."

I did not mention the other errand to Tara. She would never have approved for obvious reasons, and I had my own reservations besides. That meant establishing a pattern that would allay suspicion. For this, my partners in deception were my wife and my daughter. Tanyth and Tara, both nobles of ancient lineages, got along well, and Tanyth was only too happy to allow Tara to show her the manifold wonders of Laerothia. Belazei gave me the perfect excuse to range along the northern borders of elven territory.

I took my daughter out to Lake Aelwyn. She needed to swim, and that massive body gave her more than enough space for it. She was amazed at its depth, telling me it rivaled certain seas. Creatures lurked at the bottom, and though I bade her be careful, she was a nereid, born to this.

Quiyahui joined her, dancing in the air and diving into the water at turns. I experienced my familiar's joy through our link. When the sun struck the water and turned it to gold, the coatl was a rainbow above it.

Tara insisted I take one of the gweyir, the riding deer of the elves. She arranged for a stag with experience guiding non-elven visitors. The beast was magnificent, with its silvery-white coat and wide rack of antlers. I had grown so accustomed to my qobad, that a new steed took some getting used to, but within a day, I was riding like I was born to it.

While Belazei explored the lake, I made my way along its shore. The orcs had raided the shores of Aelwyn once, but that was now almost two decades ago. Ulrika had mentioned these former raiders had settled, but I could not imagine as fierce a creature as Ghorza turning away entirely from a life of pillage. I thought that if I presented a tempting enough target, the orcs would find me.

After a first day that was fun though entirely unfruitful, we returned. Once again, Tara provided a refreshing elven repast. We ate, and I found my attention straying to my elven paramour. I was deceiving her, but it was not out of malice. Still the guilt gnawed at me, an edge of anger directed still at Ghorza.

Yet this did nothing to curb my desire. The gown clung to her graceful frame like a second skin. I found myself imagining tracing the contours of her body, first with fingertips, then with my tongue. I thought of the sweet sounds she made and longed to hear them once again.

She caught me looking more than once, the color rising to her cheeks and across the narrow bridge of her nose. Her breath took on a shiver, and her eyes lingered upon me as well.

At the end of the meal, Tara rose, her chest heaving. "Now, Bel, you will accompany me? I have need of you."

"Enjoy yourself," said Tanyth, kissing my cheek.

I followed Tara to her bedchamber, utterly besotted with the elf. Her chambers were bordered with the living wood of the xilquinal tree, jewels hanging from the branches and shedding a gentle light over us. She stepped up onto the dais where her bed waited. Sculpted from the wood itself, it was an elegant platform covered and draped in rich silks.

"I was surprised you did not ask for this last night," I said.

"You were weary from travel and I am an elf. I am patient."

"You waited one night."

"I am not eternally patient."

"I admit, you are too much to resist. You are one of my first loves."

"One of? Oh, you speak of the nereid, your daughter's mother."

"Thalalei and I were not in love. I believe her goal was Belazei rather than romance. I think of her fondly, but I do not place her alongside you."

"Belazei is a fine girl. I have never heard of a nereid who sought out her father."

"I have enjoyed our time together. Now, if we are going to lay together, we should stop speaking of my daughter."

"You are correct, my lord," she said, touching her gown at the shoulder. Like a living creature, the elven garment fell away from her, revealing the smooth expanse of her body. My gaze crawled up her form, from the golden pool of her gown, to her elegantly arched feet, to her ankles, to her long legs. I paused at the bare slit between her legs, then to her flat belly, up to her modest, upturned breasts capped with their lilac nipples, to her exquisite clavicles, to her swanlike neck, and delicate features. She let down her platinum blonde hair, shaking it out until it fell about her waist.

"I have always loved the way you look at me," she said with a smile.

"And how is that?"

"Like you have never seen a woman before." She looked me over. "Now, it is your turn."

I doffed my robes, boots, and loincloth. I was not nearly so graceful as she, but I believe she enjoyed that. I was her human, and she enjoyed my earthier charms. Her attention ranged over my body, paying special attention to both my increased bulk and my hardening staff.

I lifted her easily in my arms, kissing her lips. Despite her impressive height, she was light as a bird. I carried her to the bed, laying her down. Soon, the two of us were on our sides, our heads between the other's legs. I wanted her mouth more than anything, and I wanted to drink the lavender-scented nectar from her sex.

I teased apart her lacy folds, savoring the delicate and ancient flavor. I was gentle, at first, wanting only to reacquaint myself with her. Soft licks and tender exploration showed me the places on her she loved. Her muffled moans greeted me, her slender hips pushed to me.

She was dainty, licking me like an exotic treat. When she finally took me in, I was reminded how cool her mouth was. Like a gentle breeze she swallowed me. Her tongue roved over me, seeking places on my staff that had been too long without her touch.

It was a subtle sort of pleasure we coaxed from one another. It built slowly, gently. Neither one of us was hurried. Her mound was delicious and judging by the way she sucked at my staff I was equally delectable.

I do not know how long we enjoyed each other. It was a lovely kind of eternity. Our writhing steadily became more pronounced, our bodies slicker, our breathing more ragged. I did not know when it happened, but I was thrusting against her mouth, pushing to the gate of her throat, but never past her comfort. I felt the pleasure suddenly, ready to burst forth from the dam. I knew I could not stop it.

Abruptly, Tara let me go. Confused, I watched her push me onto my back and kneel over me, her orchid slick with my saliva, parted, taking my staff. I moaned as the pleasure raked its talons over me. One thrust, then two, and three.

I burst out in a hot gout of bliss. She squealed happily, shivers taking her body as I filled her. She sighed, her nails kissing my chest, then lay down over me, her head next to mine.

"I love the way you feel inside me. That warmth, it goes through me. I feel you in every part," she said, kissing my cheek.

"Will Itylara be joining us?"

"You wanton man," she playfully scolded me "Do you miss my leilasa as well?"

"You can't deny how much you love watching me fuck her."

She sighed again. "True. There is no more beautiful sight." A kiss on my chest. "I want you to myself for a little longer, then perhaps. If you bring me bliss."

"Well then. I think I know how to help."

She laughed gaily as I threw her over, and soon she was moaning as I found her sweet rosebud. She always loved the cleric's kiss.

Through the rest of the week, the orcs never troubled me. I could not complain, for I spent those days riding through the dappled shade by the beautiful lakeside. My daughter and my familiar frolicked in the lake, and middays the three of us would eat a meal by the shore.

True to Tara's word, Itylara joined us one evening, and we took her from either end. She still danced to Tara's every whim, and that too inflamed me. Another evening Tanyth joined us, and she had a wonderful time being devoured by the two of us. I reminded myself that simple pleasure was not the only purpose of my journey hence. My nights were filled with sticky bliss, but my days were restless searching.

I found my way to the Valenspur Mines, thinking perhaps I could find evidence of the orcs. I offered to leave Belazei behind that day as we would be far from the lake, but she would have none of it. She was as curious as I, and I reminded myself that as strange as these lands were for everyone, she had the added layer of being in the surface world.

I retraced my path from those many years ago, following the edge of the forest to the eastern shore of the lake. My memories of that night were bright, but it was far more the thrill I'd felt, the delicious terror of creeping into an orcish stronghold.

It took three days of searching, but I was able to find the entrance to the mines, now overgrown and nearly invisible. Belazei, Quiyahui, and I delved into the mines while I left the gweyir outside. I quickly found evidence of the orcs, but nothing recent. A few broken weapons, rusted and useless, lay in the dirt. Some broken crockery was scattered by the remnants of fires. The mines were long abandoned.

Eventually I made my way back to the chamber where Ghorza had held Tara as a bedslave. Ghorza and I had our own combat then, and I'd prevailed, though barely. I thought of the sweet savagery of that night from time to time. My undeniable attraction to the orc was tempered by my anger for her abuse of Tara. She had been glorious, covered in rippling green muscle, a barbaric beauty that could not be denied.

"This is where the bandits hid?" Belazei asked.

"This was their lair," I said, looking about. "Ulrika said they made a village. I didn't quite believe it, but I don't see why they would have left a place like this if not for a settlement."

"Where did they make off to?"

"One thing I learned wandering Uazica, people need water. Find a river or a stream and follow it. You'll find a settlement soon enough."

Belazei knew the tributaries into the lake by now, and a day later, we followed one of the larger ones leading into the hills that was relatively close to the mines. I rode, Quiyahui flew, and Belazei strode through the stream itself, the current never once unbalancing her.

We found what we hunted after a half-day's walk inland. Dense trees stood between the settlement and Iarveiros, screening it from casual discovery. It was a simple motte-and-bailey, and judging from the condition of the lumber, was built around the time I made my way into the Red Wastes. The bailey enclosed a handful of simple houses around a central firepit. Racks of drying skins and meat spoke to the village's economy. A pair of guards stood on the ramparts, and other orcs moved within. I did not think there were more than forty individuals inside the walls, and only half looked to be at all capable of fighting. The settlement looked like what Ulrika had intimated, a relatively peaceful village content to scratch an honest existence from its environs. I made a decision.

"We are going to present ourselves at the gate," I said, offering my hand down to my daughter. "Come, sit behind me."

"Are we in danger?" Belazei asked.

"Some. They will understand that I am more of a threat than you are, and should the worst happen, I will keep their attention on me. If you are in the saddle behind me, you will not be a target at all." I gave her an encouraging smile. "The worst will not happen. We are coming in peace, and I am far more trouble than I am worth."

"I understand, father."

I bade Quiyahui to range closer to the earth, slithering a short distance over the grass while we rode forth at an easy trot. The guards spotted us quickly, calling back and forth in their tongue. We must have been quite a sight. They nocked arrows in their muscular bows but did not draw.

"Hail," I called when I was within range of their walls.

"State business," one called back in a thick accent.

"I am friend to Ghorza the Hammer."

The two orcs looked from one to the other, and I nearly laughed. Dubious expressions sat strangely on the resolute face of those people. They exchanged a few words in their language before turning back to me. "Name?"

"Belromanazar."

"You wait there."

"On my honor."

One guard vanished from the wall and the other watched the strange group of newcomers.

"I have never seen an orc before," Belazei said.

"They are a savage people, but I believe honorable." I should say here that I have since come to a better understanding of orcs and would not make such a sweeping and demeaning statement anymore. My dear Uzshata would have my head, and I would accept such a fate as my just due. I was still young then, still held onto the belief of what orcs were. It was only Ulrika's tale of peaceful treating with them, and their settlement here, that inspired me to try diplomacy.

"My sister Morelia was sired by an orc."

"Oh?"

"Her father lives in a tribe on the eastern sea of this great island."

Shortly the gate opened, and three guards armed with axes and armored in iron and bone came to meet us. In the lead was a youthful half-orc, tall and well-built. "Ghorza will consent to see you," he said in passable Eomet.

"I'm grateful." I dismounted and helped Belazei off the stag. I followed the half-orc up the path to the keep, leading the stag. The other guards kept a wary eye on Quiyahui. "May I know your name?"

"Threch," he said.

One of the full orcs muttered a word in their language, and a shadow passed over Threch's face, though he showed no more pronounced reaction.

The keep was fashioned of fat stones and thick logs. The orcs had done an excellent job. Any who happened upon it would have a hard time taking it, and that was before the skills of the defenders were considered. The elves would not trouble it, and in so remote a place, the orcs would not have stand against any but isolated bands of raiders.

I thought back to the debauchery I had seen in the mines. How much of that had been the desperation of the circumstances? How much had been a simple lack of privacy? In my experience, loveplay was an inevitable result of peoples congregating and it did not matter the origin of the peoples in question. Perhaps I was unusual, but my proclivities had strayed far from the sorts of women I would have encountered in Burley Shoal. If such things had happened before, they likely did inside the wooden houses that made up the village.

The interior of the keep wasn't expansive, featuring little more than a killing chamber inside the main doors and a great hall beyond that was hardly great. A few wooden beds piled with furs sat at the back of the chamber.

A table sat before a hearth, and an orcish woman waited there. I didn't recognize her at first, but it was Ghorza. Her hair had gone silver, and though her limbs were still heavy with muscle, she'd added a full belly and posterior. The wrinkles on her face were plentiful and deep. Her green skin had grown darker and dryer. Seeing her was like hearing an echo of a song that was once loud and beautiful but now undeniably diminished. I was not certain how to feel about her. Lust from our one time together, anger for what she had done to Tara. And then there was the information she kept, that I needed for something far bigger than all of us.

Her eyes searched my face, and then she broke into a smile, baring the tusks poking from her lower jaw. "Itis you. Not as pretty as you used to be. Seasoned, though. Seasoned well."

"I am surprised you remember me."

"Do you think I do that with all my captives?" She laughed, then looked about. "What brings you here and with a menagerie in tow?"

I looked to the stag. "I was unsure where to take my mount."

"Is it going to attack?"

"I don't think so."

"Threch, let that thing graze on the hill. As long as it doesn't bother anyone, don't bother it."

He nodded and took the stag outside.

"What about the snake? I would have remembered that."

"My familiar. A new addition. She will harm no one."

"So?" Ghorza demanded "Here to have another go? I'm not so comely as once I was, but I can still make you pop."

"I thought you might bear me some ill will."

"We had our fun, and more besides. Sit. Let us speak like old friends. I am too old to bear grudges, especially when there was no real harm done. Not between us at any rate." She gestured to Belazei. "Is this young one your new toy?"

Belazei and I sat at the table, Quiyahui coiling next to me and watching the orc. "She is my daughter."

"You bring your daughter to a camp of orcs?"

"I want to teach her. Show her the world."

Ghorza's eyebrows shot up and her expression softened into a smirk. "Well, then. This gets more and more interesting, doesn't it? Why did you come here, pretty?"

"I wanted to ask you about one of your tribesmen. He was a priest of Yegoth and he joined a party of adventurers calling themselves the Gloom Sovereigns."

She snorted. "Oh yes. You're asking about Karlukh. He was a friend of mine. Far too young to go the way he did, but that seems to be the way with adventurers. Damn fools, if you ask me."

"Do you know why the Gloom Sovereigns were formed?"

She stared at me keenly. "I should have known. She said you were an adventurer."

"I'm certain Tarasynora said a great deal during her imprisonment." I had intended to keep my anger under control, but the thought of Ghorza torturing Tara, of using her, put the fire behind my eyes.

"You don't know," Ghorza said, searching my face.

"What don't I know?"

"She told me her human was a wizard and an adventurer. Told me he was strong enough to kill her husband."

"What?"

Ghorza sighed. "I'll no longer keep her secrets for her. There should be no anger between us, pretty. Let me tell you the whole story. You should know what kind of woman she is."

"Go on," I said, my anger warring with my confusion.

"She and I were lovers. I believed we were in love, but she never loved me. She saw me as a tool to do what she wanted. She let me think that we made the plan together, but that wasn't true either. It was hers from the beginning."

"What plan?"

"You saw it." Ghorza sighed. "I would pretend to kidnap her, and she would stay with me until her human came to rescue her. She knew her husband was a coward, but not her brave adventurer. Then you would spirit her home, and she would ensure you could put the pieces together and know Ellisyr was behind everything. You would challenge him, slay him, and she would have his fortune and lands, and then she and I could be together."

I felt the floor falling away from me. I held onto the table to steady myself. I wanted to call Ghorza a liar, but I couldn't. From the moment it had happened, I sensed something was wrong. Ghorza's words rang true. Tara had deceived me. Even the way she said it, that Tara would ensure I put the pieced together spoke to precisely what happened on the ride back. The elf led me down the pathway to a single, inescapable conclusion.

"Yes," Ghorza said. "I felt the same as you feel now. I waited for her to return to me after, but she never did. I realized I had been used and discarded, but I held out hope. I thought perhaps she would miss me. She couldn't have faked our passion. Or so I thought. Eventually, I moved my camp here. Made this village. Grukhnak. 'Haven in the Hills' in our tongue. Pretty, hmm? I am getting soft, I suppose."

"It was all planned? Everything?"

She smiled. "Not our struggle. I think that shocked her as much as it did me. A fun surprise, I would say. Makes me wish I were still young so you and I could take another tumble." She searched my face. "I'm not a cruel one. You need time to sit with this." She rose and put her hand on my shoulder. "I will tell you everything I know of the Gloom Sovereigns and more. The two of us share one thing. We were both used by that harridan. We owe it to one another."

She patted my shoulder and left me.

"Father?" Belazei asked, taking my hand. Her skin was soft, faintly slimy, the webbing in her fingers like silk.

"Forgive me, Belazei, I..." I trailed off, shaking my head.

Quiyahui wrapped a coil about my leg. Her blue eyes flashed, and I felt rage through our link, a lightning strike.

I almost asked the two of them to leave me, but I realized something. I did not have to be alone. I had been given a gift. I embraced my daughter and my familiar and I tried to make sense of what the elf had done.

The fire in the village burned high that night. Ghorza took me down into the village proper, and there, I ate with the orcs. They served a hearty meal of roasted venison and smallbeer flavored with wild-grown berries. I sent a message to Tanyth and Sarakiel, telling them not to worry, and that I would return in the morning.

As I watched the orcs laugh, eat, and talk, I had the impression the community gathered about the fire every night, reaffirming their bonds. The orcs kept their distance from me for the most part, but none were hostile. When I made the rainstorm for Belazei, little more than a few clouds over her head to soak her, they raised their cups in appreciation.

"Why did you do that?" Threch asked, approaching me. He had been alone as well, brooding in the firelight.

"She is a creature of the water. She would be fine without it for a night, but she would be uncomfortable."

"You make rain so she will not be uncomfortable?"

"It's in my power."

"The world will not treat her so kindly."

"I am not the world. I am her father."

The lad was quiet, and then nodded, wandering away from the fire.

Ghorza settled on the log next to me. Her mug was half full, and her breath smelled of the meal. Once again, I saw the woman from that one night. Every emotion struggled through me, from the faint affection I hold for most paramours, to the residue of the anger I once felt for her, to the betrayal she had told me of. "The two of you are getting along."

"The lad speaks good Eomet. I take it he is your son?"

Ghorza smiled. "And yours."

I stared at her. "What?"

"Come now, you had to have guessed." She shook her head. "You're painfully dim at times, aren't you? Good thing you're pretty."

"How?"

"You should know that."

"I just... it was once."

"The will of the gods, I suppose. You certainly plowed my fields deeply enough."

"Does he know?"

"I have not yet told him. I wanted to speak to you, to ask a favor. Threch is of age, and this place isn't big enough for him. He is not loved here. His human father hangs over him. You heard what the others call him."

"I did not understand the word."

"Bastard. He is called Threch the Bastard."

I winced. "I am sorry, Ghorza."

"You can make amends. I want you to take Threch with you. Show him more of the world. He does not quite fit with orcs, perhaps he will with you."

"Are you certain?"

"He's old enough. Time to make his way in the world anyway. I see the way you are with the girl. I can trust you with him."

"I'd be honored."

"Good," she said, nodding. "I'll have to talk to the boy, but I know him. He'll not refuse adventure. I was worried he'd be going off alone. At least now he has a family. A father and a sister." She snorted. "You certainly aren't choosy when it comes to who you take into your bed."

"Wasn't a bed in either case. Besides, her mother was beautiful. His was as well."

"Flatterer. You still look nearly as young as you did then. The beard ages you, and you're taller than I remember. Much broader. How about your spear, that the same size?"

"I believe so."

"Oh, that was a thing of beauty it was." She sighed. "Very well, you granted me my favor, I'll tell you what you wanted to know. Karlukh joined my little tribe of raiders when Threch was much smaller. We were just beginning to build our town here then. Karlukh ministered to us, helped build the walls and keep and such, but I don't think his heart was in it. He was looking for more adventure, I think. You know how priests of Yegoth are."

"I don't actually."

"We orcs are an ancient people. We trod Thür before the elves, before the dwarves, before the halflings, and before you." She spoke the words like one reciting legend, but I knew this to be an undeniable fact, for I had seen it. "When we were young, the world was desert, and badlands, and craggy peaks. We carved our empires from it, our courage enabling us to scale the heights of civilization. Priests of Yegoth believe we should return to the old ways."

"And you do not."

"When I was younger, of course. That is a game for the young. As I have seasoned, I have come to the realization that the other races outnumber us, and if we ever became too much of a thorn in their sides, they might band together and destroy us. I believe the elves are coming to a similar conclusion for themselves, but who knows. Those arrogant prigs can't see past their own noses. This is not an age for elf or orc."

"The Gloom Sovereigns," I prompted.

"There are halfling settlements all through the Valenspur Hills. We used to raid them. When we settled, we started trading and after a rocky start, they no longer pepper us with slingstones whenever they see an orc. In any case, there are taverns there, and Karlukh spent much of his time there. That is where I believe he met the others."

"Did you know them?"

"I met them once. They returned here for some provisions before setting out on their quest." She put an ironic lilt on quest to ensure I knew what she thought of the whole business.

"Tell me of them."

"There was Karlukh of course. I don't recall the names of the others, I'm sorry to say. He had a ghoul with him. That surprised me. A wizard from the looks of the scale beetle on his shoulder. A dwarf bearing axes. A goblin deepseer. And a human woman, skin like a corpse and eyes like the sky."

"What were they doing?"

"I asked Karlukh that. He said they were on the trail of a ghoul. A ghoul who called himself Thabban." A spear of ice went through my heart. "You know that name."

"I have heard of a ghoul by that name who spreads a foul faith to decadent nobles," I said carefully. "He was in far Kharsoom, but so was I. It seems his path will not stop crossing mine."

"I know nothing of that. Karlukh said merely that this ghoul was threatening the peaceful lands of his companions and they believed they had located his lair."

"And then what happened?"

"They departed and we heard nothing for more than a year. Then, one morning, a human priestess returned to us, bearing Karlukh's body. He was already ripe, but we were grateful as we could still burn him on the pyre and ensure his soul returned to the world. The priestess was kind, and sadly not interested in a tumble with me. I suppose my looks were already fading by then."

"Don't be offended. Ulrika is not as wanton as we."

"Shame. She's a handsome creature."

"Thabban is somewhere in the Caster Mountains," I mused.

She watched me, then broke into an amused smile and shake of her head. "Adventurers."

I chuckled, though there was no mirth in it. Diotenah's ring was cold upon my finger, the hissing of her presence wrapped around my soul. I would find Thabban where he hid, and I would take vengeance for Mira.

We slept in the keep that night, though Ghorza's snoring made that difficult. In the morning, as we ate cold venison, I asked Ghorza to send Threch to the standing stones, and from there I would take him to Castellandria.

"He is a good lad," Ghorza said.

"I look forward to learning that."

She looked like she was ready to say one more thing, but she swallowed it and nodded.

It was still morning when we made our way home.

"I have another brother," Belazei mused as we led the stag along the path. I did not want to ride. I needed the time to think of what I would say.

"Is that unusual?"

"I think most of us have brothers. I will be unusual because I know them. Little Arkohnus and now Threch. I hope Lysethe bears a sister."

"You seem to like Arkohnus."

"He is a good boy."

"He has a good mother."

"Sarakiel is a kind woman. When I arrived on your doorstep, she took me in without hesitation. She has always treated me like a daughter."

"I trust her heart."

"That is wise. I know Arkohnus will be kind like she is. I don't know Ghorza."

"I don't know her either, not really. I could not turn the boy away."

"I am glad you didn't."

The anger and confusion swirled about me, deepening with every step I took Laerothia. Tara's lie ate at me. It sounds so foolish now, but I could not understand why she had deceived me. I would have done anything for her without the slightest hesitation. Belazei fell silent as she felt my mood blacken, and the coatl stayed close to my daughter, providing the comfort I could not.

I returned the stag to the stables, and by the time we arrived at Tara's home, the sun was sitting on the horizon. We came up the path to find Tara, Tanyth, and Sarakiel at the table, preparing to eat. Little Arkohnus was cradled in the crook of his mother's arm. Shaluvia stood by a nearby wall.

Sarakiel's relieved smile curdled as she beheld my face. "Bel?"

"Leave us," I said.

Tanyth opened her mouth to object, but Belazei and Quiyahui intercepted her, swiftly ushering her, Shaluvia, Sarakiel, and Arkohnus from the room, leaving me alone with Tara.

"Bel?" Tara said, rising from the table. Perhaps it was the fact that I knew she had lied before, but I had never seen her so brittle, so transparent. "I have never seen you look thus. What troubles you?"

"I saw an old acquaintance of ours. Ghorza the Hammer. Do you remember her?"

Tara showed no reaction. "You know I do."

"She told me a rather different version of events of our previous encounter."

She stared at me. I watched her come to a realization, as evident in her eyes as words. She weighed continuing the lie and dismissed it. Her tone was flat, no feeling behind the words. She was reciting the epitaph of a stranger.

"Ellisyr was not a good man. He married me for my title. I spent as much time as I could away from him. His touch could not inflame me. I began to ride more and more, ranging farther and farther from Laerothia. I met Ghorza on one such ride. I found her fishing in one of the streams that feed the lake. I had her head between my legs on that first day. We met as often as we could manage. I told her of Ellisyr and she offered to kill him for me, but she had no standing. She would have been killed herself. Then I thought of my brave leilatha."

"Why did you not tell me? I would have fought him for you."

She sucked in a breath. I saw now that it wasn't a lack of emotion that kept her face stony. She was holding on to them, desperate to keep control. Her eyes were so violet, her pupils nothing but pinpricks. Each breath held a shiver. Memory, the tension in the room, I could not tell what spurred it. The scent of lavender wafted over me.

"This man, standing before me, would slay him and take me before his body cooled. I see it in your eyes. You're a killer now, but you were not a killer then. I had to lie to you."

I stepped forward. My heart thundered in my ears. "I am a killer and you lied to me. What do you think that I would do?"

A thread reached from my weapon, the spear Ur-Anu, into my mind. It showed me all I would need to do. A single thrust through her neck would finish her. I held her life in my hands and she knew that and loved it. Another step. She thrust her chest out, her head back. Her pulse pounded against her neck. The scent of lavender wrapped tendrils around me.

"Will you kill me?" she asked. "Is that the justice you want?"

The tip of my spear fell, now pointing at the sweet bowl between her clavicles. "What if I did?"

"None could stop you."

I took another step. The obsidian blade, impossibly sharp, was inches from her shuddering throat. Lightning pulsed through the veins of the stone, as though aroused to murder. I could have ended her. There are times I wonder what would have happened had I taken that final step. The elves might still tread the surface of Thür. The Fifth Strata might never have come to its end. All for the price of a lie.

The blade fell. Now it pointed at the bone between her breasts. The enchanted blade would have sliced it in two as easily as it did metal and stone. The thread showed me the pathway to her death. Mine if I wanted it.

The spear was an extension of me, since I had taken it in the Hollow city. I had control over it that I could never have duplicated with a lesser weapon. The tip of the blade fell again, to the golden cloth between her breasts. My eyes met hers. I saw desire there, and I do not think in that moment it mattered. She would have been happy dying then.

I drew the tip down, her dress parting, falling from her lavender skin. Her nipples were like stones. Her sex shone with her juices. The scent of her was strong in my nose. My need for her was a physical force. I wanted to take her, to punish her, to please her. I wanted to consume her with my lust and use her until there was nothing left.

I moved the blade of the spear aside. Now it was over her shoulder, the edge next to her neck. I reached for her mound, found her slick. She moaned as I pushed my fingers into her, hooking them, caressing the silky flesh inside her. Her eyes went smoky as she gasped. One hand went to her breast.

Ur-Anu's blade moved closer to her neck. "Be still."

Her hand came down. "Yes, my lord." Her chest heaved in broken, stuttering rhythm.

I pushed deeply into her, and she whimpered with the intrusion. Then I drew out, teasing her pearl. She was dripping over my fingers. She moved against me, her hips now pulling my digits in. I pulled them from her, pushing them into her noble mouth. She sucked them clean, her eyes never leaving mine. I took them back, and pressed the flat of the blade onto her shoulder. She understood my meaning, dropping to her knees. She opened my robes, removing my loincloth. My staff was now brandished between us, turgid and shining.

"It's my mouth you want?" she asked. "If I am not good enough, you will slay me?"

This time, she was eager. She wasn't delicate. This was not the dainty noblewoman. This was a harlot on her knees. Her smoky eyes were locked with mine.

She ran the flat of her tongue over either side of me. Her palm swirled over, covering me in saliva. She opened her mouth, and I thrust deeply. She gagged, tears filling her eyes, but she never stopped looking into my eyes. I pulled out, letting her cough, nearly catch her breath, and then I took her again. This time, I pushed past the back of her throat.

I watched her fight to keep her eyes open and on me. The tears welled and rolled down them. I pulled back, but she grabbed me, forcing me to stay within her. She swallowed once, and I groaned, the milking of her throat inflaming me.

Then she released me, and I drew myself out until her exhausted lips rested on my engorged head. Drool fell from her noblewoman's lips. She held me, licking the tip with a clean stroke and then devouring me. Once again, I pushed past her gagging. Her mouth gaped like that of a snake swallowing troublesome prey.

It did not wipe away her deception, but as I often say, I am a fool. Her utter supplication was a delicious gift that made it easy to forget anything other than her grasping throat. I thrust into her with the power I would have used on her sex, and she took me as tears and drool ran from her face. She never looked away, her violet eyes hard on mine.

The bliss crashed over me in a wave. I cursed as I painted her throat with the first hot spurt. I pulled myself from her. The second covered the inside of her mouth. The third and fourth streaked her face in pearl.

She swallowed, savoring what I had given her. A drop fell from her brow onto her cheek. "I am yours. I love you, my leilatha."

I put Ur-Anu on the table. I would not need it this night. I brought her to her feet, then roughly bent her over the table. I wanted to forgive, to forget, to justify the love I felt for her. I could find haven only in the consuming lust, and that was what we shared.

We left the following day. Tara walked us from her home down the pathway to the edge of the forest. She was once again clad in gold, all evidence of our violent loveplay gone. She was once again the perfect elven noblewoman, not a single hair of her platinum hair out of place.

Our qobads and the carriage waited for us, a pair of half-elven grooms holding the reins. The carriage was filled with parcels I did not recognize along with the baggage we had brought. A pair of the gweyir waited beside the carriage, a hart and a hind.

"I've included clothing for all of you," she said. Her voice was deeper, huskier, still recovering from what we had done. "Elven make. I hope you will forgive the presumption. The two gweyir are for you, Bel, and you Tanyth. Proper mounts for a lord and lady."

"Thank you," Tanyth said, taking Tara's hands. "I look forward to seeing you again."

"And I you, Your Highness."

They kissed once on the lips. Tara said goodbye to the others then, though none received the attention she gave Tanyth. Then it was just us, holding hands just out of earshot of the others. "Bel," she croaked, her voice low. "I don't ask your forgiveness. My actions were my own. I ask your understanding."

"I will need time."

"That is one thing we have." Her teeth worried her lip. "I love you, my leilatha."

I could not say the words, but I touched her hand.

We mounted up and made our way down the road. Out of respect, Tanyth and I rode the gweyir, and I believe our qobads were resentful of suddenly being thrown over for these strange new steeds.

Ahead, a single figure waited before the standing stones. Tall and well-built, he carried a heavy pack on his back and an axe and sword on his belt. "I suppose I have one more thing to tell all of you. The young man on the road ahead of us is my son, Threch."

"Son?" Tanyth asked.

"I have another story to tell you."

"How many more of these long-lost children are there?"

"He will be the last," I said. I was wrong, but I couldn't have known that then. I told a brief version of the story, leaving out the most salacious parts out of respect for Belazei. By the time we reached Threch, the tale was done.

The young man looked up at me with belligerence masking his nervousness. "I will not call you father," he said by way of greeting.

"I can accept that," I said. "Let me introduce you to everyone."

"I know we will be lovely friends," Tanyth said, flashing the smile that won her so many allies.

"Here, sit beside me in the wagon," Sarakiel said.

"Please," Belazei said, "I would like to speak with my brother."

Threch withered under the attention, but bore it stoically. He climbed into the wagon and by the time we were in the Hinterlands, Belazei had him talking like an old friend.