Night Elves of Ardani: Book Two: Sacrifice

by Nina K. Westra

  She gave Aruna a pained glance. He raised his eyebrows.

  “We’re not going to leave, Neiryn,” she said gently. “We’re trying to help you.”

  He sniffed for a few minutes, then said soberly, “I think I’m going to die.”

  “You’ll be all right. Just keep walking.”

  Aruna abruptly stopped. Novikke looked over questioningly. He motioned to his ear and then out to the forest. Novikke stilled, watching where he’d pointed.

  Neiryn started to say something else, and Aruna clamped a hand over his mouth. The sun elf’s eyes widened, but he quieted.

  They were silent for a few moments. Novikke saw only trees. She heard nothing.

  Then something flew toward them. Before they could so much as duck, an arrow had dug into a tree branch above their heads.

  Aruna let go of Neiryn and drew his sword. Novikke grabbed Neiryn’s arm to keep him from falling. There was movement all around them. Figures appeared from behind trees and rocks.

  There were rapid footsteps behind her, and then someone was pulling Neiryn away from her and wrestling him to the ground—a level of force that was almost comically unwarranted. He went down in a heap and didn’t move. Immediately someone was climbing onto his back and fastening a collar around his neck.

  She whirled, taking in the figures encircling them. At first she’d thought the Varai from the outpost had caught up to them. To her shock, she saw only humans, clad in the same jackets and cloaks Novikke had worn until recently: the red and blue uniforms of the Ardanian army.

  “Wait—” She threw her arms up. “Stop!” No one was looking at her. They were preoccupied with subduing the elves.

  Someone approached Aruna, but backed off when he sliced his sword at them, warning them away. A group of swordsmen were closing in around him, wary of his quick blade.

  Novikke ran to stand in front of him, putting her back to him and facing the Ardanians. “Listen—”

  “Novikke?”

  She turned to the voice and saw a tall woman with cropped black hair and a familiar face. Thala, a vague memory supplied. A lieutenant in Captain Theros’s company. She’d seen her around Fort Greenbar a few times. Shocking that she’d ever noticed Novikke at all, let alone remembered her name.

  Novikke was jerked backward as Aruna’s arm wrapped around her neck and pulled her against him, and then his blade was at her throat. Panic jolted through her. The Ardanians stopped short, still surrounding him.

  A beat passed. One of the Ardanians moved, and Aruna stepped back and barked something at them that sounded threatening. His quick breaths pushed at her hair. His chest was hot against her back—a sad parody of the previous night.

  The sword wasn’t touching her. It was a good few inches away from her skin, actually. No part of her believed he would hurt her. “Aruna, put down the sword,” she whispered urgently. Gods, if only she could speak to him. “Put the sword down or they’ll kill you.”

  He whispered something back, his words filled with anger and fear.

  She could see an archer in the trees behind the swordsmen, nocking an arrow.

  “Aruna!” She hissed. She pulled at his arm, trying to force the sword away, and he only held her tighter.

  It was only in the silence after she’d spoken that she heard murmuring from somewhere to her right. She looked over in time to see a young woman wave her hand in a tight motion toward Aruna.

  He staggered like he’d been struck with something. He fought the spell, but she felt him going limp. The sword dropped from his hand, falling to the ground in front of her. He grew heavy against her, and she stumbled under his weight. She managed to turn and ease him to the ground.

  He’d stopped moving. She pushed hair out of his face, and his eyes were closed. Her heart pounded in her ears. She began to reach out to feel for his pulse, and then footsteps approached.

  She turned and smacked away the hands that were reaching toward him. She glared up at the men above her. Their swords were still drawn, as if they might still need them against an unconscious—gods, she hoped he was only unconscious—opponent.

  “Don’t touch him,” she snapped, viciously enough that they obeyed, for the moment.

  A few of them looked familiar. She must have seen them around Valtos or in the forts nearby. She turned and spotted the mage—the only one not wearing any armor or carrying weapons.

  “What did you do to him?” Novikke demanded.

  The mage glanced up at Thala before answering. “He’ll be asleep for the next ten minutes or so, depending on how resistant to magic he is. He’s not hurt.”

  “Where have you been, Novikke?” Thala cut through the small crowd, which parted for her. “You were supposed to be at Livaki a week ago, weren’t you? I heard you never arrived.”

  She seemed genuinely concerned. That took Novikke by surprise. She hadn’t been certain anyone had even noticed her absence.

  Thala’s eyes roved over her, then flicked over to Neiryn, taking in his obvious poor health, and then went back to Aruna and the sword on the ground. Novikke would have laughed if the situation hadn’t been so dire. The woman was trying to figure out what they were all doing here together. It must have been a strange scene from an outside perspective.

  She wanted to tell them to just forget they’d seen the three of them. That was impossible now.

  “I know what this looks like,” Novikke said. “These elves aren’t our enemies. We’ve been traveling together for days now. I wouldn’t still be alive without them. I can’t allow them to come to any harm.”

  The Ardanians exchanged annoyingly knowing glances, like they were silently agreeing that she had lost her mind. They were all coming up with their own explanations to fill in the gaps she’d left, she was sure.

  Thala studied Novikke before speaking, as if she, too, was trying to determine the reliability of Novikke’s state of mind. “The sun elf wears the Ysuran sun on his clothes,” she said slowly. “And this one is a night elf,” she said, because that in itself was a crime. “They are undoubtedly enemies, even if they haven’t killed you. We have to bring them back to camp.”

  The swordsmen were edging closer, growing impatient. Novikke was expecting them to force her out of the way any second now.

  “I’ll explain everything that’s happened, but you have to promise me you won’t hurt them,” Novikke said.

  “We’ll take them alive,” Thala said, which was not the same as not hurting them, but it was probably the best outcome she could hope for. “You can speak to the captain about it when we get back.” She held out a hand, smiling. “Come on. You look like you’ve been through a tornado. Let’s get back to camp and we can get you some food and fresh clothes. All right?”

  Nearby, two of them were holding Neiryn, now collared and handcuffed. He looked over at Novikke with a vague frown.

  “If you want that one to live until tomorrow, you’d better get him medical attention,” she said, and instantly regretted her phrasing, because it was unlikely that they cared much whether or not he lived.

  But Thala nodded solemnly. “We’ll take care of it.”

  Novikke hesitated, then accepted Thala’s hand and allowed herself to be pulled away from Aruna. She watched him over her shoulder. The other soldiers were dragging him upright and fitting handcuffs on his wrists. They picked him up, and gods, the way he slumped in their arms looked so wrong. He really looked like he might have been dead. He soon might be, at that.

  Novikke followed them through the trees until they reached a clearing. What awaited them there shocked her.

  There must have been a hundred soldiers at the camp. Tents had been set up, and people in red and blue uniforms and armor scurried about. A large fire burned in the middle of it all. Something was cooking on it, and for a moment, the smell of the food was all Novikke could think about.

  The Ardanian army, here, in Kuda Varai. When was the last time that had happened? Centuries ago, probably.

  Walking throu
gh the camp felt like a dream. She’d experienced something so comforting and so horrifying at the same time. She should have been relieved. She’d found her people. She was safe here. She was going to be all right. A week ago, she would have done anything to be here.

  But now, the presence of humans and chatter of Ardanian voices felt wrong. This wasn’t a place for humans, or for armies.

  The other soldiers in their group split off, taking Neiryn and Aruna in different directions. Thala was the only one who stayed with her. Novikke couldn’t tell if she was being helped or supervised.

  “Where’s the captain?” Novikke said.

  “There’s no hurry. Why don’t we get some food and—”

  “No. Now.”

  Thala arched an eyebrow at her. Novikke was likely the lowest ranking person here. She was not in a position to be demanding things. A week ago, she wouldn’t have. But now she had bigger things to worry about than politeness.

  “This way,” Thala said, to Novikke’s relief.

  The captain stood by the fire in the middle of the camp. Someone was already there telling him what had happened. Both men looked up as she arrived.

  Novikke gave a belated salute after she noticed Thala giving one.

  The captain looked her up and down. “Novikke, is it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Thala hovered beside her until the captain looked over at her expectantly. She took the hint and left. Novikke was vaguely aware of a few other people still lingering nearby and pretending not to listen.

  The captain turned his full attention to Novikke. He was a man in his late forties, with a typical Ardanian combination of light, tanned skin and dark hair. His gaze was heavy—stern and perceptive.

  He was looking at her like she was already boring him.

  “Captain Theros,” he said.

  She nodded. “I know. We’ve met before. At Eastwatch?”

  She could see by the way he looked at her that he didn’t remember her. A prickle of annoyance pulled her brow down.

  He gestured to the man beside him, who was younger, taller, and narrower. “My first lieutenant, Vissarion.” Novikke gave him a disinterested nod. “It sounds like you have quite a story to tell.”

  “Yes. I’ll get straight to it.”

  She explained everything that had happened in the last week. With some significant edits. In particular, Aruna had not been there when she’d been captured, of course. That would have been terrible. He’d never have done something like that.

  Theros listened until she got to the part where they’d escaped the outpost.

  “Why?” he asked with a slight frown, which seemed to be his default expression.

  “Sorry?”

  “Why did the night elf release you?”

  She’d contemplated what she’d say when he asked this. “Out of the goodness of his heart” was probably not a satisfactory answer. She’d thought about saying she’d offered him safety in Ardani in exchange for helping her—which would have been more believable, and might have encouraged them to treat him well. There was a procedure for dealing with defectors if they came to Ardani willingly and cooperated fully with the army. However, she had her doubts about how cooperative he’d actually want to be.

  In any case, she’d guessed that they would ask Aruna the same questions they were asking her, and she had no way of knowing what he’d say.

  “I’m not sure,” she said, and then, when Theros raised an eyebrow, she carefully added, “I suppose he must have been thinking of leaving Kuda Varai, and thought I could help him do that. Who wouldn’t want to come to Ardani over this place?”

  “True enough,” Vissarion muttered, looking around at the dark trees with distaste. Night was falling rapidly.

  Theros seemed less convinced. “He could have been hoping to use you to infiltrate Ardani and gain information.”

  “Night elves don’t do that,” Novikke said. “Ysurans send spies. Varai don’t leave the forest.”

  “They also don’t defect,” Theros said.

  She was growing less confident. “Well, maybe not, but this one—”

  “You’re not being reprimanded, Novikke. You did well in surviving. We’re all just relieved you made it back to us.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “In fact, you’ve done us a service. With a captive night elf, Kuda Varai is suddenly much more traversable than before.”

  A dark sense of foreboding circled the pit of her stomach.

  “What about the sun elf?” asked Vissarion. “Should we execute him? He’ll be of little use here.”

  Novikke opened her mouth to protest, but Theros spoke first.

  “No. He’ll be useful if we run into any other Ysurans. We’ll question them both when they’re conscious again.”

  On cue, a young soldier approached them. “Sir, the night elf is awake.”

  Theros nodded to him, then turned to Novikke. “Thank you, Novikke. If we need more details, we’ll send for you. You should go rest for now. We’ll organize an escort back to Valtos for you, if you wish.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” she said quickly. Theros turned to go with the young soldier. Desperate, Novikke caught his arm to stop him.

  “Sir. I don’t think you’re understanding me.”

  He turned to look down his nose at her, and she could tell he was on his last tenuous threads of patience.

  “The night elf has saved my life on multiple occasions and was escorting me home when your people found us. He deserves fair treatment. The Ysuran, too.”

  Theros exchanged a look with Vissarion, who looked puzzled. Theros only looked stern.

  “The nation of Ysura and the city of Vondh Rav are currently at war with Ardani,” Theros said. “The fact that their purposes aligned with yours momentarily does not change that. I hope we don’t have reason to question your judgement about this?”

  She stepped back, opening her mouth and then closing it again. “No. Of course not. I was… only trying to do the right thing. One good turn deserves another. You know.”

  “Your sense of honor is commendable,” he said, while looking very much like he couldn’t have cared less about her honor. He glanced down at her side. “You didn’t say what happened to your arm.”

  It was spoken almost like an accusation. She was caught off-guard. She resisted the urge to hide her arm behind her back.

  She couldn’t very well claim it was an old injury. Parts of it were still scabbed over.

  “I… fell in a campfire,” she answered, and had to suppress a wince.

  “A campfire.”

  She nodded once, her lips pressed together.

  He glanced at the wound again. “It’s shaped almost like a hand,” he said.

  He thought that Neiryn had done it, probably. It was the obvious explanation. She didn’t want him to think that, but she also didn’t want him to know that it was the night elves who had done it. He’d cite it as more proof that they couldn’t be trusted, and maybe even get it in his head that Aruna was responsible for it.

  Which, in fairness, he was, even if she’d forgiven him for it.

  She didn’t like that the Ardanians were here. She didn’t like that they’d been attacking outposts and villages. She didn’t want to give them more reason to believe their cause was righteous.

  A ridiculously transparent lie probably hadn’t helped anything, but it was too late to change her story.

  “I suppose it does,” she said. “Funny.”

  “That’s one word for it,” he said, then gave her a curt nod. “We’ll take your concerns into consideration. You are dismissed.”

  Novikke reluctantly stepped away. She watched Theros and Vissarion leave. They entered another tent across the camp, closing the door flap behind them.

  Feeling obscenely foolish, Novikke clenched her hands, glancing around the camp. That could hardly have gone worse.

  She’d not only failed to help Aruna and Neiryn, but she’d managed to make the captain
suspicious of her, as well. She should have kept her mouth shut and looked for a way to get them out later. Now they’d be watching her, and she’d be suspected if they did escape.

  But no one was watching her right now.

  When she was sure there were no eyes on her, she circled around the edge of the camp, behind the row of tents, to the tent Theros had entered. Its rear faced the trees. In the shadow behind the back of the tent, she crouched, hidden from the rest of the camp. Voices emanated from behind the canvas.

  “…it on him,” she heard Theros saying.