by Timothy Ray
Though, he doubted her father would be that enthusiastic if he realized how much freedom they enjoyed when she came to visit. He felt the blood rushing to his face and looked away, taking in the night.
“I know, I can’t help it.”
“Try,” she whispered, leaning forward and kissing his cheek. She wore a thin, revealing nightgown and he fought to keep his gaze leveled. How could he not fall in love with her? Prearranged or not, he’d fallen for her instantly and so deeply that he would have sought her hand in marriage regardless; she was irresistible.
She leaned on the balcony, the breeze lifting her blond hair, and he couldn’t help but smile at her beauty. “Jenna has begun to show,” she whispered softly.
Jenna was her older sister and John’s wife. They had already been given a son, Aaron, and had been informed days earlier that he could be expecting another niece or nephew soon. Days, and she was already showing.
He would never get used to how fast elven women gave birth. It took them a month to do what human women needed nine to accomplish. It was an amazing thing to watch from afar, but he didn’t envy his brother being at her side when she delivered. John was a strong man, but he was sure he had seen him soothingly trying to rub feeling back into his right-hand months after Aaron was born.
Despite the fast delivery of children, the inability to conceive more than two to three offspring in a lifetime kept the Elves’ population from quickly spinning out of control. That was one reason Bordin could no longer produce an heir. He had two daughters, and his wife had been unable to bear anymore.
He’d heard rumors that there had been other women, but knowing the man personally, and seeing the King’s devotion to his wife first-hand, he couldn’t bring himself to believe it. Willow’s mother was strong willed, a force to be reckoned with, and the only person that had ever truly frightened him. His betrothed assured him it was simply her way of making sure he treated her right, but sometimes he wondered if it was because he was human.
Their marriage announcement a decade earlier had not been well received in Griedlok. Their neighbors had left their eastern forest home to live amongst Man centuries earlier. It was their belief that the Elves could no longer hide from the world and needed to take a more active role in its rebuilding. Their beliefs had made them exiles from their kin, as they ventured forth to create a new home among the settlements of Man.
That didn’t mean they were eager to have a human as their king.
He had a lot of fears to assuage when he was crowned, a prospect he found both daunting and incomprehensible at the moment. Elves tended to live longer than humans, so it had seemed unlikely at first that he would ever become king. However, the slow integration of human blood had lessened their longevity and Bordin was already one hundred and ninety years old. He would one day be King, and the only reason he had accepted that fate, was the beautiful woman beside him. He would endure anything to spend his days in her constant presence.
She had been talking, but having lost himself in her eyes, he had missed it. The only word he caught was baby. Wait, what?
The look of confusion must have been evident upon his face, because she laughed again and his blood pumped faster. “Well, not right now, obviously,” she teased.
He coughed with embarrassment. “Obviously,” he responded weakly; as if he heard every word she’d spoken. The look she gave told him she knew otherwise.
“Yes, that would not be a good thing. I’m supposed to be chaperoned when we’re together. If my father knew that yours was not having us escorted around, he would muster his army, force march them here, and run you through with his sword,” she snickered.
He gulped, then nodded his head. “Right, it’s a good thing then.”
She laughed at his sudden discomfort. “I was kidding. You really need to lighten up. Would having a baby be so bad?”
“Before we’re married? Yeah. I can see the look on your father’s face. He wouldn’t simply stick me with his sword, he’d take his time about it,” he whispered with reverence.
She shook her head. “Men are so oblivious, unable to see what’s right in front of them until it whacks them in the head. You and I have been together for ten years. Even when we were children, we were rarely apart. To think that my father doesn’t know what’s going on…”
“Uh, you haven’t told him, have you?” he ventured, fear leaking into his voice.
She giggled again, shaking her head in disbelief. “He might put on that he has no idea, but he has to. He was young and in love once; even if it was a very long time ago. Our memories are clear no matter how much time has passed.” She inclined her head and whispered softly “and no, I haven’t told him. Would you like me too?”
His heart froze and she snickered at the frenzied look upon his face. “No, not really,” he finally managed.
“I didn’t think so,” she returned, eyes darting to the lights below.
A look swept across her face; she was thinking of something unpleasant. “What is it?” he probed with concern.
She considered before she answered. “We were supposed to be married first. We are going to have to be more careful in the future. I am able to bear children now, I can feel my body changing, yearning. It would not go over well if I became pregnant before our vows were exchanged.”
Sighing, he shared the regret he heard in her voice. She was right; they were going to have to be more careful. As quickly as they had children, she wouldn’t be able to hide it for long if she did get pregnant. Not that he was ready to be a father anyway. He still felt like a child, how could he raise one of his own?
“Then it’s a good thing the wedding is only a few weeks from now,” he said, feeling the weight of the words as he spoke them. Weeks, and the home he had grown to love would be taken from him and he’d be thrust into an alien environment with expectations far beyond his abilities to perform. His hand found hers and squeezed.
This was her last visit before the wedding. With Constantine’s health failing, Bordin had recognized that the ceremony couldn’t be put off any longer, and was rushing things along. The Elves would soon be arriving in Lancaster, as his father was unfit to travel. Arrangements had been made, invitations sent, and soon his life would no longer be his to do with as he willed.
He forced the doubts away, sure of only one thing; she was worth it.
Smiling, she turned from the balcony. “Come on lover, let’s put each other to bed,” she purred, reaching for his inner thigh.
“Thought you wanted to be more careful?” he teased, pretending to resist. His body was already reacting to her touch and the widening grin showed that she was well aware of it.
“I think we’re beyond that tonight, don’t you?” she teased softly, using her free hand to slide her nightgown strap aside and letting it fall to the floor. “Now, would you like to do this here?” Her full breast pushed into him, her right leg sliding up his calf. “Or would you rather take this inside?”
He pulled her towards him and kissed her with all the building heat and desire that was wracking his body in response. Their tongues played as his hand went to her bare ass and squeezed. The pressure between his legs was mounting and he was quickly losing control of his actions.
Her hand grasped his and with a teasing smile, she broke away, pulling him towards the awaiting bed chamber. He paused to glance at the heavens once more, blissfully unaware that this would be the last peaceful night they would have in the weeks to come.
V
Erik and Revan emerged a short time later. The prepared food had arrived and the messenger had set upon it eagerly; even in his exhausted state. He would quickly fall to slumber now that his task was completed, the weariness that he had been fighting would soon consume him. He felt a pang of jealousy; sleep was something that would elude him for the remainder of the morning.
“What word from the Scryers?” he sighed with regret.
Revan began to walk towards a study further down the hall, speaking as
he went. “The Pools of Ognar have shown glimpses of an army forming to the west. I say glimpses, because the pool clouded over not long after the discovery, making it obvious that someone is masking the horde’s movement. Not quick enough though; our Scryers were able to discern its location. The army is currently encamped northwest of Lancaster in the Ashby Grasslands. But who knows for how long or in which direction it will strike? They were unable to determine the exact size, but it was staggering enough that they dared to wake me from my slumber.”
“Heh,” he grunted. It seemed no one was afraid of waking him from his much-needed sleep.
Revan ignored him. “Analyzing it further will only produce pure conjecture at this point. We need more information. Could it be heading south to Lancaster? That’d be my guess, but I’m not the one that will need convincing. It could just as easily march on any of the races. It’s too early to speculate.”
“Gauging by what we just heard, I think we have a fair idea where the army will go,” growled back.
“Will it?” the magister asked in turn. “Some could easily point out that the dwarf could be a decoy, masking the army’s true intentions. Even as they march, people will be hesitant to act in fear of being seen as a fool, should events transpire against their position.”
They reentered his study. The fire had gone out in his fireplace but the embers were still glowing. Hadn’t he just been here? The candles on his desk were relit, the fire rekindled, and the torches mounted to the walls set ablaze. There were comfortable chairs on the side of the room near the fireplace, well worn by the King and his aides. His back was aching and he motioned for them to sit; he’d relax while he could. Revan took the chair to the left, his eyes never leaving Erik’s face as he tried to get comfortable.
“If not for the Scryers, I doubt even I would have given credence to the dwarf’s ravings. Old Constantine has his hands full with that one,” he smiled slightly, trying to lighten the mood; it didn’t work. “My gut’s telling me this cannot be ignored. We should assemble the Council and bring them up to speed.” He watched the druid’s face, gauging his response.
What he saw reflected his own thoughts.
The Council would deliberate, be slow to action, and would be unwilling to commit until more information was received. Neither thought there would be time for their purposefully slow process. “I don’t like it either, but it has to be done, it’s the law. The day we turn from the laws that govern us is the day we are no better than those savages out there on the plains,” the King muttered angrily, motioning to the invisible lands beyond.
They sat in silence for a few moments; reflecting.
“They don’t have to be informed of all things; at least not at once,” his magister suggested.
He eyed the druid for a moment, trying and failing once again to see what the other was up to. “What do you have in mind?”
“The army will be immobile as those fools will concern themselves with their own safety, rather than that of another kingdom’s. It will not be allowed to march quickly enough to make any difference, should they even consider rendering aid to Lancaster,” Revan told him, not saying anything he hadn’t already thought of. “They are politicians and will wait to see how the people will respond. They will be slow to act.”
“I will not let Constantine face that army on his own; it goes against everything I have fought for my whole life. We must help them,” he stated harshly.
Revan eyed him, gaze lingering, the fire dancing in his brown eyes, “Sire, I said the army would be immobile.”
His hand had begun to rise with his heated response, then stopped. He caught the magister’s meaning and began to smile. Yes, the army would be slow to march, but his knights would not. After a season of peace and endless tournaments, they were restless and would eagerly set forth with little encouragement. They weren’t blood hungry, but the eagerness to feel useful, to use the skills they had honed, would overwhelm them and provoke them to action. Most of the druids under Revan’s purview would also join them and they’d be ready to march before the council knew what was going on.
He let it sink in, allowing the heat of the fire to warm his bones. After a few moments of careful consideration, he consented at last to the future being forced upon him. “Do what you have to; I leave it in your hands. The less I know the better. If it comes to it, I’ll back you, but if I don’t give them someone to point at, they’ll be easier to manage.”
His High Magister bowed his head, “As you command.” Revan turned towards the fire, eyes watching the flames dance, the fire emblazoned upon their thoughtful spheres.
For a brief moment, he wondered if he did truly command the magister, or if they just happened to be temporarily walking the same path. With Revan, he never could tell. He shook his head in silent frustration; best to worry about what really mattered at the moment and not create more problems than currently existed.
They sat in silence, mourning the last moments of peace and the dawn of a new age.
Chapter 3
Out of Legend
I
It was the last morning they were going to be together before the wedding. He nodded to the guards as they lead their horses across the drawbridge and into the town beyond. He couldn’t help but notice the shape of his fiancé’s butt as she swung her leg over her horse and turned to look down on at him. She shook her head in amazement as he followed suit.
“You’re such a guy,” she sighed.
“Hey, you’re the one marrying me,” he snickered, latching his feet in the stirrups and tightening his grips on the reins. She was making sure the basket and bedroll were secured behind her saddle and didn’t see the smirk on his face.
There was movement out of the corner of his eye and he turned in that direction.
A merchant’s stall was situated along the main road through town, its windows shuttered, and the building currently abandoned. Leaning against the wall facing them was a young man with a sash tied over his eyes; apparently blind. He had short raggedy hair, black leather armor, and a matching cloak. For the briefest moment, it seemed the blind boy looked their way and nodded. He twitched his head in disbelief, how was that possible? He felt odd nodding in return and slowly looked towards his betrothed.
She was apparently satisfied with the straps behind her and looked ready to depart.
The Guardians had ridden up behind them on their mounts; their unwanted chaperones. He glanced back at the merchant’s stall, but the boy was gone. Feeling weirded out, he nudged his horse, and tried to put it out of his mind.
He hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, every time he almost drifted off, he’d snap wide awake. Something was amiss and the feeling of dread would not disperse; even when the morning sun edged over the horizon with the promise of a new day. He felt like he was on the brink of something life changing; the air heavy and his senses wary.
Willow had found him on the balcony staring out at the sunrise. She beckoned him to come back to bed, but the time for sleep had passed. She decided they needed to get out of the castle for a while, an impromptu picnic to brighten their day. She was sensitive to his moods and set about trying to distract him from the dark cloud that sapped his spirit. He hadn’t known what to say when she asked for specifics, he couldn’t put a name to the uneasiness that was affecting him; it was something in the air.
He stroked Dancer’s mane. The horse nickered and perked his ears. Willow was looking at him with concern. He forced a smile and tried to shrug the heaviness off his shoulders.
There was a river that flowed from the eastern woods to the moat that surrounded the castle. It would then continue south to Crystal Cove, one of the many places he used to fish when he was younger. The forest that he and John had hunted in was to the southwest and as they rode along the thoroughfare snaking along the river, he realized that she was leading him yet into another forest. What was wrong with picnicking by the lake or under a lone tree? His teeth were grinding and he fought the building i
rritation.
The Guardians had begun to fan out, giving them some degree of privacy, and he took a few long deep breaths in an effort to calm down. The lack of sleep was making him cranky.
The road they followed would eventually take them to Griedlok. The feeling that he would be on this very road in a few weeks traveling to his new home wasn’t lost on him. Such a short time, and he hadn’t even packed yet. There were stewards to do that for him, but it felt impersonal. He didn’t want anyone else touching his stuff; it bothered him on a deeper level. He had grown up having people wait on him and it would be worse when he got to Griedlok.
He’d prefer to be left alone, to just be with her in some cottage some place; maybe a farm. Some remote location away from the world and the attention that came with it. For a moment, he fantasized about the two of them turning their horses south, riding until they got to the ocean, and escape from scripted future of their lives.
He rubbed his left hand across his brow, smoothing the worry lines gathered there. The pressure felt good. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his head. Fantasies were all they were and he knew it.
As he opened his eyes, he realized how quiet his betrothed had become.
It surprised him, she rarely let long periods of silence ensue before forcing a conversation. She was not the silent contemplative type. It had grown apparent growing up that too much quiet really bugged the shit out of her. Being the polar opposite, he should’ve minded, but the sound of her voice was so relaxing that it rarely intruded upon his frame of mind.
When they were together, people had learned to defer to her first, since she did more than enough talking for both of them. He felt a giggle surface, but suppressed it. The breeze was shifting her blond hair as they rode and he took a moment to admire how the sun lit up her smooth skin. His eyes began to follow the seams of her blouse, coming to rest on her breasts. Flashes of the previous evening, their naked bodies intertwined, intruded and he had to look away. The blood rose in his cheeks and he coughed in embarrassment.