love in my heart for Kolbyr or its citizens.”
Ghaji grimaced. “I’m just an ignorant half-orc, Asenka, so feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t it generally a good idea for diplomats to speak
diplomatically?”
Calida held up her hand to silence Ghaji then nodded to Asenka. “Go on.”
Asenka bowed her head to the Baroness. “Forget for the moment that Mahir thought enough of these two men to write them a letter of introduction and send me, the captain of his Sea Scorpions, to accompany them. Forget for the moment that the citizens of Kolbyr have lived with the curse upon their city for the last hundred years. Forget that, should the curse be lifted, it may well lead to improved relations between our two cities, and perhaps a better life for all who inhabit the Gulf of Ingjald. All that matters is that within this generation, the curse has manifested itself in
your
firstborn child, Calida. Do you really want to hear assurances that Diran and Ghaji can help you? You already know you’re going to allow them to try. As a mother, you won’t pass up any chance, no matter how slim, to save your child?”
The Baroness regarded Asenka for a long moment, the expression on her weary face unreadable. Finally, she rose out of her overstuffed chair, picked up a scented candle mounted in a pewter holder off of the end table, and began shuffling toward the door.
“Come with me,” she said.
As the three companions followed the Baroness, Asenka gave Ghaji a grin as if to say,
Was that diplomatic enough for you?
Ghaji grinned. He was beginning to understand what Diran saw in this woman.
Ghaji expected Calida to lead them down into the bowels of the palace, where they’d find the cursed child sealed away in a subterranean cell, dwelling in darkness, forever denied the light of day. But instead the Baroness—along with the two guards—led them up a flight of stairs to the uppermost floor of the palace. At the end of a long featureless corridor lay a single door made entirely of metal, an iron crossbar set firmly in place to seal the room shut from the outside.
It must be a very lonely way to grow up, Ghaji thought. Curse or no curse, he felt sorry for the child forced to live behind the metal door. Strange and unfamiliar sigils and runes had been scratched into the surface of the door, dozens of them over the long years since the curse first took hold. Ghaji was by no means an expert, but he felt certain the markings were all protective charms of one kind or another. A glance at Diran, a nod from his friend, and Ghaji’s suspicion was confirmed.
As they drew near the iron door, Ghaji could feel waves of anger radiating from the chamber within, so strong that it was nearly a physical force. It took an effort to move forward, almost as if they were walking into a strong wind. He clenched his jaw tight and concentrated on ignoring the Fury that buffeted him, but he could feel it sinking into his mind, making itself at home, and beginning to grow.
They hate you, you know. Half-orc. Half-human. Haifa man … Show them how strong you are. Take hold of your axe. Will its flames to life. Strike swiftly and without mercy …
Ghaji’s hand reached for his elemental axe. But before he could draw the weapon, Diran laid his hand on the half-orc’s shoulder, and Ghaji felt soothing calm spread through him. The Fury was stillthere at the core of his being, but its urgings were quieter now, more easily ignored.
Ghaji gave his friend a nod of thanks then looked to Asenka. From the strained expression on her face, it was clear the woman was fighting her own battle to resist the Fury, but he saw that Diran held her hand tight, and Ghaji knew that his friend was also helping Asenka hold the Fury at bay.
When they reached the door, Calida stopped and turned to regard the three of them.
“I’m impressed. Most outsiders can’t make it this far without trying to kill each other … or themselves.”
“What of you?”
Ghaji grimaced. “I’m just an ignorant half-orc, Asenka, so feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t it generally a good idea for diplomats to speak
diplomatically?”
Calida held up her hand to silence Ghaji then nodded to Asenka. “Go on.”
Asenka bowed her head to the Baroness. “Forget for the moment that Mahir thought enough of these two men to write them a letter of introduction and send me, the captain of his Sea Scorpions, to accompany them. Forget for the moment that the citizens of Kolbyr have lived with the curse upon their city for the last hundred years. Forget that, should the curse be lifted, it may well lead to improved relations between our two cities, and perhaps a better life for all who inhabit the Gulf of Ingjald. All that matters is that within this generation, the curse has manifested itself in
your
firstborn child, Calida. Do you really want to hear assurances that Diran and Ghaji can help you? You already know you’re going to allow them to try. As a mother, you won’t pass up any chance, no matter how slim, to save your child?”
The Baroness regarded Asenka for a long moment, the expression on her weary face unreadable. Finally, she rose out of her overstuffed chair, picked up a scented candle mounted in a pewter holder off of the end table, and began shuffling toward the door.
“Come with me,” she said.
As the three companions followed the Baroness, Asenka gave Ghaji a grin as if to say,
Was that diplomatic enough for you?
Ghaji grinned. He was beginning to understand what Diran saw in this woman.
Ghaji expected Calida to lead them down into the bowels of the palace, where they’d find the cursed child sealed away in a subterranean cell, dwelling in darkness, forever denied the light of day. But instead the Baroness—along with the two guards—led them up a flight of stairs to the uppermost floor of the palace. At the end of a long featureless corridor lay a single door made entirely of metal, an iron crossbar set firmly in place to seal the room shut from the outside.
It must be a very lonely way to grow up, Ghaji thought. Curse or no curse, he felt sorry for the child forced to live behind the metal door. Strange and unfamiliar sigils and runes had been scratched into the surface of the door, dozens of them over the long years since the curse first took hold. Ghaji was by no means an expert, but he felt certain the markings were all protective charms of one kind or another. A glance at Diran, a nod from his friend, and Ghaji’s suspicion was confirmed.
As they drew near the iron door, Ghaji could feel waves of anger radiating from the chamber within, so strong that it was nearly a physical force. It took an effort to move forward, almost as if they were walking into a strong wind. He clenched his jaw tight and concentrated on ignoring the Fury that buffeted him, but he could feel it sinking into his mind, making itself at home, and beginning to grow.
They hate you, you know. Half-orc. Half-human. Haifa man … Show them how strong you are. Take hold of your axe. Will its flames to life. Strike swiftly and without mercy …
Ghaji’s hand reached for his elemental axe. But before he could draw the weapon, Diran laid his hand on the half-orc’s shoulder, and Ghaji felt soothing calm spread through him. The Fury was stillthere at the core of his being, but its urgings were quieter now, more easily ignored.
Ghaji gave his friend a nod of thanks then looked to Asenka. From the strained expression on her face, it was clear the woman was fighting her own battle to resist the Fury, but he saw that Diran held her hand tight, and Ghaji knew that his friend was also helping Asenka hold the Fury at bay.
When they reached the door, Calida stopped and turned to regard the three of them.
“I’m impressed. Most outsiders can’t make it this far without trying to kill each other … or themselves.”
“What of you?”
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