The Wood Cutter's Son

by Thomas Wright

  “We are the dark elves of Aloran’Drae. I am Queen Malestoria, Clan of Aloran and descendant of the priestesses of Drae.”

  And what of Dra? Is he still worshiped by all of you animals?

  The queen flinched over being called an animal, but regained her composure then hurried to answer. “Dra has been dead since the time of the great battle between the dragon gods,” she answered, confused the dragon was unaware. “But his spirit was trapped in chains by our ancestors.”

  Where are these chains? Bring them to me! The dragon’s skin rippled; its tail swung side to side in excitement. The queen realized her mistake. Her mind raced, searching for an answer that would save her. To disappoint the dragon now was to die. She settled on the truth.

  “You have been gone too long, Master,” she said, dropping to her knees again. “Much has changed and in that time someone stole the chains that held Dra’s spirit. The Queen of the Northern Wastes has them. She sent thieves─”

  Be silent. I do not care to hear about your failure. The dragon folded its wings, spread them, then folded them again. It feels good to move. The dragon took one step forward, then another. The queen ran to the side of the cavern while the remaining elves fled in all directions. There was more confidence in the dragon’s next two steps as it watched the elves scatter before it. A large group huddled together caught his eye, and with a quick snap, he stuffed his jaws with six of the onlookers. Looking up at the ceiling, he shook his massive head and forced his meal to fall down his throat.

  The queen hugged her body close to the icy wall, wishing there had been something to hide behind. She looked away from the dragon in search of an alcove or rock and ice formation to hide behind, but it was too late. The dragon called to her. Queen, come along. You will show me where this elf queen lives and bear witness to my power when I raze her kingdom to ashes.

  The queen looked back and saw the dragon looking back at her over his shoulder. The black eyes giving nothing away. Blood coated his lower jaw, running slowly down his neck. Six of her people gone in one bite. This was not the outcome they had anticipated, she thought while her lips formed into a smile.

  It would be better. Much better.

  Forty

  Two days after the attack by the bandits, Morgan and Alexis arrived on the outskirts of Kor’Tarnaeil. The few farms in the vicinity were abandoned; some had been burnt and still smoldered. Morgan was using the dragon sight to survey the area when Alexis wasn’t looking. She hadn’t taken it well and hadn’t spoken to him following the bandit attack and the rest of the ride north. He decided to tell her everything that happened from the time of his escape to the present. It couldn’t make the silence any more... silent, he thought. So he told the truth about the chains instead of the river lie he had told to everyone else who asked. He told of forging the sword and saving Lorna, the blacksmith, the day in the slum, Fredrik, the elven guards and Anallese. Fredrik’s death was hard to recount, and so was stopping the tears. He had grown fond of the man in the short time he knew him and wished there had been more time to spend with him.

  Alexis was still quiet after the telling and Morgan didn’t want to push her into a response, so he continued his vigil, watching for man, beast or dragon. The day before they arrived, he used Dra’s power and felt an army in front of them and a solitary rider approaching slowly behind. Trying to guess what Alexis was thinking, he half-expected her to turn her horse and ride in the opposite direction at any moment. After all, she was an elven princess and a ranger. She had a betrothed to marry and a place in the elven court. He had seen the beauty of the kingdom and palace and all that was, or could be, hers, and for the first time wondered why she was sitting on a horse next to him, dirty, probably hungry and silent.

  Yesterday they saw Anallese fly over them and disappear in the distance. Alexis had frowned as she looked up, shielding her eyes from the sun. Even a dragon sighting wasn’t enough to inspire a single word. He wished he could explain to her why they rode north. But there was no good explanation why, other than that a dragon was leading him. It sounded mad. He thought of his brothers and sister. If he had said to them, “Look, a dragon! Let’s follow it wherever it goes,” his brothers would have beat him about the head. In his defense, he really thought he would meet up with Anallese when he started off after her. Anallese had wanted the sword and her return should have sparked a conversation or confrontation, but instead the dragon remained aloof. He hated to think of Alexis’s reaction if she asked and he told her he was following on a whim. His mother used to tell him that if he waited an answer would reveal itself. Mother was always right.

  Now they stood next to their horses looking out over a field at the wood east of Kor’Tarnaeil and hundreds of campfires. To the north, smoke drifted and small fires hugged the ground, dimly lighting what was left of the slum. A sickly smell of burnt meat touched his nose when the wind changed direction and he hoped the old woman Erlaine, who helped him escape the guards, had gotten out safely. He would never know, but that wouldn’t stop him from avenging her and all the others who lost everything—including their lives.

  The fortress was under siege by an army; siege towers lined the edge of the wood, waiting to be put to use. Morgan focused on the wood and the soldiers therein, intent on identifying them. Again he was reminded of how little he knew of the land he lived in. Now one thing was certain. He would make Alexis speak. Decisions needed to be made, especially in light of the solitary rider who snuck up on them just now.

  “Dark elves,” he whispered to Alexis.

  “Are you sure?” Morgan, surprised she answered, turned to her, letting Alexis see his dragon eyes.

  “Pointy ears, dark gray skin, angry scowl, just like an elf.

  “If you’re leaving, be careful of the one who’s hiding just ahead,” he said, staring at her middle of her back. “She frowns a lot. Much like you do.” All the dragon magic in Torinth couldn’t have stopped Alexis’s backhand from hitting Morgan’s shoulder. “What was that for?”

  “Hit him again,” Theralin said, walking out from behind a tree. “We have good reason to frown and he is standing in front of me.”

  “Kor’Tarnaeil is under siege by dark elves. You should go have a look.”

  “Is this true?” Theralin asked, looking to Alexis for affirmation.

  “He gets it right sometimes, but better to see for yourself,” Alexis answered.

  “Now you find your voice?” Morgan said.

  “Princess, was the litter of dead bandits on the side of the road your doing?” Theralin asked before Alexis could respond to Morgan.

  “No,” Alexis answered curtly, looking at Morgan. There was anger in her voice but not because of his teasing.

  “He didn’t,” Theralin said, astonished at the revelation.

  “He did.”

  “You killed the most, surely?”

  “One.”

  “I’m glad you found your voice, Princess. It’s a shame I had to wait for you to speak until Theralin arrived.” There was hurt in his statement.

  “I find her company preferable to yours is all.”

  Morgan eyed her until she turned away. He didn’t believe her and pushed her a little harder. “Go home, marry your betrothed and have a palace full of little elflings,” he growled in faux anger at her reply.

  “Elflings? Elven children are not elflings. You are insufferable.”

  Morgan sighed. He had planned this. Regardless of her choice of words, he couldn’t be angry at her. “Why did you come after me, Alexis?” he asked, resting his hand on her shoulder. “I know why Theralin has. She would give me over to Verlainia. Which will never happen. Ever. But you?” Morgan took Alexis by the shoulders and pulled her back into his chest.

  “Do you want me to leave?” Alexis murmured.

  Morgan, surprised she accepted his embrace, put his lips next to her ear. “No. I want you to accept me now as you did before. I showed you I am still the Morgan you know. I poked, prodded and teased you s
o you would see it’s me. Who else makes you as mad as I do?”

  “No one else would dare. I’m shocked and confused. You’ve changed and I’m not sure what you are or what questions I should ask of you. I wish we could go back to the way it was when I was a ranger and you worked chopping wood at your family homestead.”

  “There is nothing there for me now, even if we went back,” Morgan admitted somberly. “Mother and Gabriella are gone—somewhere safe I hope—and everyone else is dead. I told you to go home in anger, but in truth if you desire the past and better times, your home is the only place in Torinth you will find them. The Black Mountains are free of war, death and destruction—at least right now.”

  “I can’t go home. I can never go home,” Alexis murmured, laying her head against his shoulder. “Milandro is dead, by my hand. Those he was in league with will suspect something after his long absence and mine. They will whisper my name into the ears of their allies in court, who will then drop hints, albeit carefully. I’m a princess, after all, and to wrongly accuse a royal would bring dire consequences. Eventually, his family will pay a fortune for a magical search and if it works... the hole he is in is just not deep enough. They will find him in time, though how long I cannot say.”

  Morgan wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I know it must have been hard on you. You’re not a killer.”

  “Oh, but I am. It was not as hard as you would think,” she said. “He used our betrothal to climb higher at court. Like a snake slithering upward through the tree branches, he sought his prey. My sister. I heard her betrothed was ‘accidently’ killed and rumors of other things, like him abusing the female servants. If my crime saved my sister the possibility of life with a monster, then I am happy.”

  “Dra says he and I have a bond. I know nothing about dragon magic, but I know I will need him. You and I also have a bond, wouldn’t you agree? We need to accept it or break it forever.”

  “Morgan, give her time,” Theralin said. “And now I know you lied about the chains. You mentioned a bond with Dra, which means you have them nearby.”

  Morgan lifted his head from Alexis’s shoulder and glared at Theralin. He didn’t want her advice and, although kind, her words made him angry. “The chains are gone, and you need to pick a side. Your duty to your queen or my friendship. You can’t have both. You’ve tried riding the fence on my behalf since you tied my hands and made me a slave the first day you laid eyes on me.”

  “I’ve done my duty, nothing more. It was Jarol who thought we would need you to tell the story of your father and brothers and the goblins who killed them. The rangers had set us up.”

  “Mooorgan,” a sultry, disembodied voice said. He looked into the darkness and felt Alexis’s head brushing his chest as she looked around for the source. Theralin drew her sword.

  “Anallese,” he answered. Her silhouette, a shadow in the darkness, stepped into view. She was naked again, in an elf form, like the first time he saw her under the stars. In a breath, he felt Alexis tense and he had another breath to tighten his hold before she leaped from his arms at the naked apparition.

  “Stop,” he ordered with enough force to draw attention.

  “Dark elf,” Theralin murmured, adjusting her stance and footing.

  “Not dark elf, Theralin. Dragon.” Morgan stated. “Put your sword away.” He held Alexis too tight to give her a reassuring hug, so he kissed her cheek. “Calm. I’m sure she has something to say and I would like to hear it before any fighting takes place.”

  “Fine, but tell me,” Alexis answered. “Do you have any more elves hiding in the woods I should know about, and do they own any clothing?”

  “She isn’t an elf,” Morgan reiterated, happy Alexis couldn’t see him staring at Anallese. It was hard not to, though the timing couldn’t be any more terrible. Theralin walking to her horse distracted him until Anallese approached. She stopped within two steps and Alexis tensed in his arms.

  “Are you his mate?” Anallese asked Alexis, then gave him a smile. It was predatory and carnal. Morgan knew there was another twist of fate in his future. He and Alexis had never established what they felt for each other. He had spent more time with Theralin and Verlainia than he had with Alexis. It was not romantic or physical, but he had got to know the captain and the queen and sensed they had, over time, developed a small amount of affection for him. Although surely that was not the case anymore. From the beginning, he felt Alexis cared for him, but they never built on it.

  “No—I mean yes,” Alexis stammered. “We are to be mated.”

  “But you are not,” Anallese purred. Morgan was lost between Alexis’s admission and the sound of Anallese’s sultry voice. Then, out of the night, a bundled piece of cloth hit Anallese in the head, ending the moment.

  “Put that on,” Theralin ordered the dragon. It was a plain linen nightgown she had in her saddlebag. Anallese held it out, giving Theralin and the nightgown both a look of disdain.

  “Elf, don’t think this form I wear is any less dangerous than the other.” Before Theralin could reply, the tips of her toes scraped the ground as Anallese held her up by her throat. “I heard him give you a choice to stay with him or go to your queen. Decide now!” Anallese shook Theralin once, then, with the ease of shooing a fly, she launched the elf into the air.

  “Anallese, put on the nightgown on,” Morgan commanded.

  Her head whipped around, brandishing a snarl that flowed into a smile. “For you,” she answered, bowing her head. Anallese shimmed into the nightgown, pausing a moment to stare at herself.

  Alexis and Morgan locked eyes and shared a moment. “You can let me go, Morgan.” Surprised, Morgan released his hold on Alexis and realized just how long he had been holding her. He also realized she hadn’t complained once about any of it: the kiss on the cheek or his embrace.

  “I’m leaving,” Theralin announced, standing back up again. “Princess Alexis, it would be safer for you to come with me. The walls of Kor’Tarnaeil are strong and Queen Verlainia would welcome you back.” Theralin spoke formally. Her tone and bearing had changed to that of the queen’s captain. “There is a way into the fortress—”

  “No. Thank you, but no.” Theralin stared at her, then gave Morgan and Anallese a cursory glance before walking away. Her horse walked along behind her as she worked her way through the trees until she was out of sight.

  Alexis turned to face Morgan, sparing Anallese a glance. “Come. I need to talk to you alone.” Morgan smiled, knowing unless they walked a thousand paces Anallese would hear her. Alexis tilted her head back to look him in the eyes. “Morgan, I have to know before anything else happens if you have any desire for us to be together. I need the truth, with none of your banter or posturing. If you say yes, then I will stay by your side until the end of time. Otherwise, I am through chasing my heart’s imaginings of what a life with you could be and will move on far from here and start anew.”

  Images of her since they had met flashed through Morgan’s mind. The latest was her hand on the hilt of her sword as she stared at him in surprise, then her fear before backing away. She hadn’t shared her thoughts after his telling of the events following his escape from Verlainia, choosing silence instead. He was never one to choose his words carefully, but if there ever was a time to start, it was now. He reached out and touched her hand, anything to break the stillness of the moment.

  “We searched for you and Railia,” Alexis began again before he could utter a word. “So many thoughts and feelings plagued me. I feared you taken, or murdered by assassins, or it was Railia you loved so you broke free and took her away with you. Then we found Railia had been taken by assassins. We rescued her and learned she knew nothing of your fate. Morgan, I—”

  It seemed she found her voice after the long silence and he almost laughed as her eyes crossed watching his finger descend to her lips to quiet her. Again, before he could say a word, she slapped his hand away. Maybe he should kiss her an
d offer an apology. Princesses were not used to being shushed. He leaned down, sliding his arm around her back about to pull her into his embrace, but he stopped. Anallese hissed and ran through the wood. Morgan felt his skin tingle as a feeling of dread washed over him.

  Dra, what is it? he thought. Turning away from Alexis, he drew his sword.

  Something that cannot be, yet I feel him as you do. One of my firstborn. He went mad when his magic fully manifested. I killed him, but not before he had murdered many of those who had hatched and grown alongside him. They were the first brood and the most powerful of all. He wanted to be the only one in direct line to our power and would have continued to kill to remain so.

  “What is it, what’s wrong,?” Alexis asked, worried.

  Morgan took a few steps toward the path Anallese had taken. “I don’t know, but it’s wrong and powerful. I feel it’s more powerful than Anallese. Dra says it’s one of his firstborn that succumbed to madness.”

  Blackstar stomped and snorted, demanding Morgan’s attention. Morgan walked over to soothe the mighty war horse and remove the dwarven axe he picked up on the battlefield in the south.

  “It’s ok, big fella,” he said, rubbing the horse’s head. “I’ll be back for you.”

  “Where has it been? All the dragons have been chronicled for thousands of summers. Few remain and they are accounted for.”

  “Alexis, dark elves have raised the spirit of an evil dragon who is a direct descendant of Dra and Drae. Hurry. Follow me and let us find Anallese.”

  Forty-One

  Finding Anallese proved easy. To their surprise, Theralin stood a few paces from her. Morgan expected her to be halfway to the fortress; instead, she stood staring straight ahead at the army assembled across the field to the east. Anallese craned her neck, looking up into the dark night sky over the wood and to the north. In the distance, Morgan saw a dark cloud and wondered if a storm would dampen the dark elves’ desire to attack that night. He was not a master of warfare—or a master of anything, really, except irritating certain elves who made his life hard. Storming a fortress in a rainstorm didn’t seem to him like a sound plan.