Moss Gate

by Alex Linwood

  It couldn’t be easy to be an elf in the human kingdom when there were so few. Even now, the stares from the city folk followed them as they wound their horses through the streets towards the gate. The elves were still an oddity here. And that was in this city—one that was much more sophisticated than Valencia.

  “So you noticed,” Lady Harper said with a small chuckle. “No, it is not easy, nor usual, for an elf to be in the human kingdom. But it is in our best interest to maintain ties, no matter what has happened in the past, for the future can be even more uncertain. Who knows who shall come into this world and wreak havoc.” Lady Harper turned to Portia and gave her a small smile, a twinkle in her eye. “Or perhaps the enemy you know is better than the one you don’t know.”

  Portia gave a start. “Are we enemies?”

  “It has been so in the past. This was all elf land before the humans arrived. It has taken a long time for those wounds to heal, if they have healed at all.”

  No, it could not have been easy to lose their land to humans, Portia thought. No wonder this relationship was so tense. That made her feel even more uneasy about the ominous events that no one could quite see in the future. They were bad enough to force elves and humans to work together out of fear of something much worse coming. Could it have something to do with her dreams? She hoped she wasn’t seeing what actual splinters looked like, because her dreams were terrifying.

  They reached the west gate and found two palace guards waiting for them, playing dice with the regular guards to pass the time. Portia was surprised to see only two. She turned red, realizing she thought there should be at least four more.

  One of the guards seemed to read her mind, for he bowed low and said to Portia directly, “My apologies, ma’am, but there have been some disruptions to the south. We do not anticipate any trouble going to the north, so some guards have been pulled to investigate.”

  Portia bit her lip and nodded. She was uncomfortable that he seemed to know what she was thinking. The more mundane explanation was probably that it showed on her face. Despite her years in the street as an orphan, she had never quite mastered the technique of a game face.

  “It is of no concern,” Lady Harper said. She gestured to the other eight elves in the entourage. “Surely we have escort enough to make it safely to our kingdom.”

  Portia thought of the bandits she had encountered on her last trip from Holne to Coverack but said nothing. Surely criminals looking for easy coin would think twice before attacking a dozen travelers, including two guards with the royal crest.

  The band exited the west gate. Portia realized with dismay there was only a half-day left of light. They would be hard-pressed to reach Holne before it was black out. Most travelers, it seemed, were more sensible in their traveling plans than they were, for the road was nearly empty. Indeed, in less than an hour they had lost sight of all other travelers on the road as they traveled across the windblown meadows, accompanied only by the sounds of their horses’ hooves on the hard-packed dirt. The royal guards split up, one ahead of the elf group and one behind. They looked around constantly.

  They approached the woods where a nearby river fed the trees that rose from the dry meadow grasses. Lady Harper motioned for the group to stop for a rest. The horses needed to eat and drink. Portia was grateful at the chance to stretch her legs; her backside was uncomfortable, numb from the unaccustomed riding.

  They pulled to the side of the woods, and an elf came to take the reins from Portia. She lifted her leg to get off the horse and realized just how stiff she was. It hurt to straighten her legs. It hurt to stand. It hurt even more to walk. She hissed softly under her breath when she took a few painful steps.

  Lady Harper gave her a smile and laughed softly. “It gets easier. I take it this is your first time.”

  “Oh, so you did notice my inexperience,” Portia said, knowing she should not have said anything, but she was still irritated that Lady Harper had almost left her at the Academy.

  “Of course I noticed, but child, I saw you take those tests. You do not need my babying for you to figure out how to ride a horse. Besides, I was curious to see how far you would run. I swear, if you could have carried that horse you would have done so.”

  Portia had to laugh at that. It was funny. She was usually a quicker thinker. Her horse probably thought she was an idiot. She wondered if it resented carrying such a stupid human.

  Lady Harper grabbed a bag off her horse and motioned for Portia to join her underneath one of the trees. The other elves and the palace guard led their horses deeper into the woods to where the stream was running through the trees. Portia could hear the tinkle of the water. She wanted to go get fresh water herself, but Lady Harper held out a canteen to her, and she felt compelled to stay and drink from the canteen instead.

  Portia eased her sore bottom onto the hard-packed earth underneath the tree. She gratefully took a cheese sandwich from Lady Harper and ate it quickly, not realizing how ravenous she was until she took the first bite. It was delicious white cheese with mustard and chewy bread. Five of them would not have been enough.

  Lady Harper nibbled on a sandwich of her own but did not seem nearly as hungry. She looked around then stiffened, giving the air a sniff. Portia stopped chewing and tried to smell the air herself, but the only scent was the warm yeast from the bread that had been sitting in the saddlebag that afternoon. When Lady Harper did not relax, Portia uneasily lowered her sandwich and looked around. She couldn’t see anything unusual.

  A twang behind Portia’s right ear caught her attention. She whirled as an arrow sunk deep into the tree behind her, vibrating with the force of its impact. Lady Harper grabbed her bag and yelled for Portia to follow as she scrambled deeper into the woods.

  Portia instinctively flattened to the ground and rolled back towards the tree line, wanting desperately to get behind a tree before squatting to run deeper into the woods. She could hear Lady Harper ahead of her, calling out that there were bandits.

  The bright clash of swords rang out through the woods. A horse whinnied and then ran off, its hooves thundering through the undergrowth. Portia pulled one of the knives from the sheath on her calf. She rounded the tree and crouched low while running into the woods—towards the sound of the fighting. She wasn’t going to let Lady Harper or the elves fight on their own.

  She nearly stumbled on a mass in the leaves. It was one of the royal guards. His burgundy uniform was stained a darker red in the chest where an arrow pierced through the royal insignia. Portia paused just long enough to determine that he wasn’t breathing. She looked around but didn’t see anything. The sun filtered through the leaves, obscuring the sightline to the west. Even so, the bandits must have moved further in towards the horses and packs.

  There was at least one bandit with a bow nearby—the one that had shot at them. Portia would feel better if she knew where that one was. From behind her, she heard footsteps in the leaves. She whirled to look the way she had come. A large bandit dressed all in black strode towards her, an arrow notched in his bow. He looked her directly in the eye and then let an arrow fly. Portia dropped to the ground just in time and heard the feathered arrow pass inches above her head to strike a tree behind her. The oncoming bandit already had another arrow notched in his bow. He hadn’t even paused on his advance on her.

  Portia scrambled back, getting a tree between her and the oncoming bandit, and then ran as fast as she could, zigzagging left and right to be a more difficult moving target. Arrows flew past her. She had a sick feeling he was herding her towards the rest of the group, but fear gripped her so hard she had a hard time thinking of doing anything else but running.

  When she got close to the stream, she saw several elves down and bloodied on the ground. There seemed to be a dozen or more bandits all dressed in black. They looked more like an army than a random band of thieves. The bandit was still chasing her; she could hear his footsteps through the leaves behind her.

  Lady Harper jumped out from beh
ind a tree and charged towards Portia’s pursuer, wielding an enormous sword. The elf must have grabbed it off a fallen attacker. The pursuer skidded to a startled stop but then let loose an arrow at the charging elf. Lady Harper dodged to the side while still running forward, but her feint wasn’t wide enough—the arrow sank into her shoulder. She did not pause, charging the bandit and knocking the bow from his hands with a backhanded swipe of her sword.

  The man swore and stumbled back, trying to evade her wildly swinging weapon. Lady Harper cut him several times until he tripped and stumbled back on the ground. She stepped forward and rammed her sword underneath his leather jacket and deep into his torso. His eyes bulged wide in surprise as a sword tip tickled the back of his throat from the inside.

  Portia gagged a bit at the viciousness of the tiny elf. Lady Harper yanked the sword free from the body of the dead man. Red blood stained her white jerkin and coated her sword. Her left arm, her non-sword arm, hung limply. Thankfully, the arrow had not hit her other shoulder.

  Harper ran towards Portia and motioned towards the larger battle. Dragging Portia to a vantage point behind a tree, she whispered into Portia’s ear, “We need a plan.” Portia nodded.

  Portia and Lady Harper peered around the tree. The battle was not going well. The second guard went down as Portia watched. Black figures swirled around the elves, surrounding them. They were vastly outnumbered. Could there be two dozen attackers? It seemed like as soon as one went down, another replaced him.

  This gave Portia an idea. Duplicates couldn’t do real damage, but they could confuse and distract the bandits.

  She grabbed Lady Harper’s hand. “Give me a second, then we strike.” She squeezed the elf’s hand. There was no time to explain further—she hoped she would just trust her.

  Closing her eyes, she envisioned a dozen more of herself. It was the limit of her abilities, and she knew they would be slightly transparent, but with the setting sun and the confusion of the battle, she hoped it would be enough. Opening her eyes, she saw her duplicates and sent them scurrying into the battle. She watched from around the tree as they ran and circled the bandits, trying to distract them from the elves who were struggling to fight. To her horror, she saw only two elves left standing. She nodded at Lady Harper and they charged but it was too late. Even with the distraction of the duplicates, the remaining elves were struck down.

  A scream of rage and fear welled in Portia’s throat. She drew on the last of her energy and instinctively created bursts of light in front of the bandits’ faces. The men in black recoiled as the bright light stung their eyes. Portia and Lady Harper attacked with their swords. Adrenaline coursed through Portia’s arms and she struck as hard as she could, fighting for her survival. She barely registered that she was killing people, having to concentrate on the next person attacking her as soon as the one she was dealing with fell.

  Quiet overcame the woods. Portia stood breathing heavily, holding her sword and looking around for the next attacker. But there was none, only fallen bodies. She glanced over and saw Lady Harper doing the same. Lady Harper gave her a grim look and then went to the nearest elf to check for a pulse.

  None of the elves or the palace guards survived the battle. Portia counted eleven bandit bodies but thought there had been more of them than that. They must have run away. Hopefully, they had been beaten so severely they would just flee and leave them alone. She didn’t like the thought of them waiting in the woods for a second chance to attack.

  Tears prickled at her eyes as Portia checked the last body, hoping for a sign of life, someone, anyone, they could save. But there was no one. Instead, the ground was littered with one broken body after another, some fallen into impossible positions, more blood on the ground than she thought possible, others simply unresponsive, their eyes closed as if sleeping. She looked up and saw Lady Harper give her head a shake—she had not found anyone alive either.

  Portia slumped to the ground, her arms suddenly shaking. She could no longer hold her knife and dropped it to the ground beside her. Nausea pushed the back of her throat as the smell of blood reached her. The ground was soaked with it. Her clothes and weapon were covered with it. She had killed, and even the thought that they were trying to kill her first did not make her feel any better.

  Lady Harper approached her and patted her on the back before slumping down on the ground next to her. “Are you okay?” she asked Portia, concern in her eyes.

  Portia dimly registered this tone was much different from the normal cool attitude of Lady Harper. She could only shake her head. She was not okay. Speech seemed beyond her.

  Lady Harper looked at her and squinted her eyes. “I mean, are you physically hurt?”

  Checking her limbs and body, Portia realized she wasn’t injured. She looked to Lady Harper and saw that more blood had escaped the elf’s shoulder wound from the exertions of the battle. The left side of her jerkin was soaked.

  “I need you to pull this out,” Lady Harper said, indicating the shaft stub of the arrow still stuck in her left shoulder.

  Portia nodded and leaned over and grabbed the slick wood. When she tried to pull it, her fingers slipped off from the blood coating the wood. She wiped her hands on the grass, then tried again, but the arrow was firmly stuck in the elf’s flesh. “It won’t come out. It will tear you if I pull harder.”

  “Don’t worry about that. If it remains, I will get very ill. The wound needs to be cleaned. This is not something that can wait until we make it to a town.” Lady Harper groaned.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Do you want me to die? Pull it.”

  Portia got on one knee to get more leverage in the grass and grasped the arrow shaft firmly. She yanked hard and the arrow came loose with the sickening sound of flesh tearing. Portia threw it down and vomited.

  Lady Harper hissed, then staggered to her feet. “Stop, child. Now is not the time to be sick.” The elf started singing, doing a slow rhythmic dance at the same time. A soft shimmering in the air by the elf’s wounded shoulder caught Portia’s attention, and she swore she could see the wound healing in time to the elf’s singing. She had never seen that sort of healing magic before. The elf’s magic was formidable.

  Finishing her song, Lady Harper slumped back down to the ground again and laid back in the grass, exhausted. Portia looked around anxiously. There could still be attackers around. Lady Harper turned her head towards Portia while breathing heavily. “Good. Keep an eye out. I’ll be recovered enough in a minute for us to leave. You should find our packs and get something to eat. But still keep an eye out.” Lady Harper closed her eyes.,

  Portia forced herself to get up. Her arms and legs were still shaky, but there was no help for it. She had to get it together if they were going to get out of there. Looking around, she saw a horse grazing not far into the forest. At least one animal was not completely scared away or stolen. It was close enough that she would be able to go get it and still keep an eye out in the area around Lady Harper. She felt uneasy leaving the elf. She stood still for a minute, trying to sense any other attackers, but heard nothing but the rustle of small animals in the undergrowth and birds chirping overhead.

  Walking to the horse, she found a pack on the back that had food. There was jerky and cheese and some hard bread. Gratefully, she chewed some jerky as she led the horse back.

  When she returned, Lady Harper was standing over a bandit. She had pushed up his sleeve, revealing a freshly healed brand in the bandit’s flesh. It was a small diamond. Lady Harper looked at Portia. “We need to check them all.”

  Every single fallen bandit had the same brand. “Do you know what this means?” Portia asked, curious. She had never seen anything like this.

  “No. I was hoping you did.” Lady Harper glanced at the falling sun. The light through the trees was growing dim as the sun neared the horizon. She sighed and stood, looking at the jerky in Portia’s hand and the horse she was leading. “Did you see any other horses?”

&
nbsp; Portia dug into the bag and handed Lady Harper some dried meat. “No.”

  “That’s too bad. We’ll have to walk then. We’ll save this horse in case we need to flee another attack. We can’t risk exhausting him.”

  Portia groaned inwardly. This was a sensible plan, but her exhaustion was so intense. She wanted nothing more than to nap on the horse. Or better yet, sleep in the trees until morning. “Do you know how far it is to Holne?”

  “Not far, but it will still be dark when we arrive.”

  Portia grimaced. She did not relish the thought of traveling at night. Turning in the opposite direction of the sun, she saw a full moon rising. At least they would have good light. She thought of Coverack and all the palace and city guards. “Shouldn’t we go back to the palace and get reinforcements?”

  “No. These bandits came from behind us. From the Coverack area. There will probably be more of them, and it’s probably the direction the rest fled back to. It is best for us to keep going. And quickly.”

  Portia didn’t understand how Lady Harper knew where the bandits came from, but she was too tired to ask further questions. They collected all the money purses off the fallen bandits and elves alike.

  Standing over one of the fallen guards, Portia looked at the man’s peaceful face. It looked like he was sleeping. Somewhere back in the city he probably had a family who would be worrying about him. She reached down and pulled at his scabbard. The royal insignia was embossed on it. More importantly, his name was etched in the leather as well. If they couldn’t properly bury them, the least they could do would be to bring back word.

  Seeking out the other guard, Portia took his scabbard as well. Using her sharpest knife, she cut out the embossed sections of each—the sheaths were heavy and cumbersome. It would be better to only carry what was needed.

  Lady Harper and Portia backtracked to collect their packs from where they had originally been resting underneath the trees. They put their packs on the horse and then struck off towards Holne.