The Axe's Edge

by Summers, Derick J. M.

  Lan fell silent, but no one spoke. All were lost in their own thoughts. Logan in particular had tensed through Lan’s story, the blood rushing from his face and leaving him paler than normal.

  “So?” asked El breaking the long silence. “When do we leave?”

  Lan squirmed in his chair and avoided her gaze.

  “Um….well….That’s the thing. El, you’re not going. The elders have decided that Ar’n’tor and I should head the force that’s being sent to free the village.”

  El sputtered in disbelief as she leapt to her feet.

  “Ar’n’tor! Of all the stupid, idiotic...”

  “El, it’s not Lan’s fault,” Raeth interrupted. “You know damn well that your father isn’t happy with you right now. There’s no way he’d involve you in something like this.”

  “I don’t care if he’s happy with me. Sending Ar’n’tor into this situation is a sure way to guarantee disaster. I mean, seriously, look at how well he handled things when he came to the homestead.”

  “Which your father blames firmly on you,” Raeth pointed out.

  El cast a dark look at the other woman before turning her attention back on Lan.

  “Are you trying to tell me that Ar’n’tor is the mage you want at your back in a fight?”

  Lan’thor shook his head in refusal, rising to his feet, his frustration mounting.

  “Of course I don’t, El! Ar’n’tor’s a dangerous pain in the ass! But I wasn’t asked and I sure as Hades wasn’t given a choice. You’ve upset your father and he won’t have you near this. Believe me, I tried. What would you suggest, that I tell him I won’t go without you? What happens to those Dark Elves then, El? Not to mention my own warriors?”

  Lan’thor and El’dreathia glared at each other for several moments, before El finally dropped her gaze.

  “You’re right of course, Lan. There’s nothing else you could do. You are the best chance those Dark Elves have, the best one to lead the warriors into this. I’m sorry.”

  “He’s back,” murmured Logan, who had been silent throughout the entire exchange.

  “Who’s back?” asked Raeth. “What are you talking about, Logan?”

  “Think about it,” Logan began. “Think about the description of the old man, wild, white hair, blind, sightless eyes and a powerful mage. Who does that sound like to you?”

  Lan’thor and El paled visibly, while Raeth’s entire face seemed to shimmer, as they processed what Logan was suggesting.

  “It can’t be.”

  “No?” asked Logan. “Who else but Reese would do that to an entire village?”

  “But that means, the body he reanimated…” El trailed off in horror.

  “Was our old friend general Siris,” Logan finished for her.

  Head Meet Wall

  After much debate, the council had limited its response to the Dark Elf situation to a relatively small force of fifty warriors, a number they felt was more than sufficient to deal with two upstart humans and a horde of Goblins. Lan’thor pleaded for a larger force, even going so far as to share his suspicions about the identity of the two humans responsible and the crimes they were capable of, but the council was not moved. In typical Elfin manner, even the most liberal minded could not fathom the idea that two humans and a horde of Goblins could be a significant threat.

  Lan’thor argued that the Dark Elves were brethren and Elfin honour dictated that a larger force be sent. The council reminded him that it was solely because of their familial connection that they were sending any force at all.

  It was decided. The council felt that a limited number of warriors would be sufficient and anything more than fifty would leave Er’thaental undefended. The fact that the Elfin tree village had not been directly threatened in centuries, even the Trolls had not penetrated so far into the forest, was also overlooked. In the end, Lan was made to understand that the matter was closed.

  He really wasn’t surprised, more disappointed. With such incredibly long life spans, Lan knew that his fellow Elves could hold grudges for ages. As far as many of the Forest Elves were concerned, the Dark Elves had abandoned the trees and turned their backs on nature, separating themselves from their brethren by their own choice. A significant number felt that they had made their beds and should now be made to lie in them, they should be left to their own devices. If not for Lean’thor arguing loudly that his fellows on council were being foolish and short sighted, that this threat against the Dark Elves could easily become a threat to the rest of the world, the Forest Elves included, the outcome may have been much, much different. Thankfully Aerlian’thor shared Lean’thor’s global concerns, and between them, they were able to convince the rest of the council to at least send an exploratory force to assess the situation and if possible, rescue the enslaved Dark Elves.

  Lan’thor later confided to Logan that the third and possibly most significant reason for the small force was the age-old issue of Elfin arrogance. Lan’thor was positive that the Elves on council could not accept that a couple of humans, even if one of them happened to be a mage, could possibly be a threat to an armed and prepared force of Elves. It was this arrogance, Lan’thor believed, that was also behind the council’s decision to only include four mages. These mages were to be under the direct supervision of Ar’n’tor, who had quickly assured the council that he and his three colleagues were more than adequate to stop anything a mere human magic user could throw at them. Lan’thor shook his head as Ar’n’tor explained that the Dark Elves’ decision to forgo magic had obviously come back to haunt them, leaving them open to just such an attack. Four Elfin mages would easily be able to bring this rogue human to hand.

  Lan’thor had tried to object again explaining that the Elves were not the only creatures in the world with magical ability and that many of the other races in Tir’an had spent years specializing in combat magic, while the Elfin people had focused on healing and nature. He did his best to explain the kind of magic that this particular mage specialized in and the kind of havoc he could wreak with it. Lan’thor’s father alone had supported him. The other clan chiefs, Aerlian’thor included, felt that sending any more mages was an unnecessary waste of resources. The final decision was four to one against Lean’thor. It was much better to keep the group small, they said. Safer for Er’thaental, easier to supply and it would meet the requirements that duty demanded.

  A Tiger By The Tail

  Preparations for the Elfin foray into the Great Swamp proceeded quickly over the next couple of days and Lan’thor found his time filled up with the duties of a war leader. Though the council had set the number of warriors he was able to take, they left the decision as to which warriors from the clan should go to him. Warriors being warriors, they all wanted the opportunity, but after a long conversation with his father, Lan’thor had finally managed to pick his Elves.

  In addition to having to choose which troops were actually coming with him into the swamp and which were staying behind to ensure the security of the Elfin village, he also had to oversee the supplying and outfitting those same warriors.

  El had sought out her father during the intervening days, as the Elfin warriors made their preparations. It was disheartening that she finally had to schedule an appointment with her clan chief, as he never seemed to have any time available for her. She went to ask his permission to accompany Lan’thor and his warriors, proud of herself for not repeating the mistakes of the past.

  Her father heard her out, though the stony expression he wore as she spoke did nothing to inspire confidence that he was actually listening. When she finished presenting her case, he spoke. To say that he was not moved would have been an understatement. He coldly pointed out that she had done her level best to avoid being part of the Elfin community for the last couple of years and he saw no reason why she should be involved in it now.

  “No!” he decided. “The matter facing the Elves is a matter for the Elves of Er’thaental and we are quite capable of dealing with it on our own. Ar
’n’tor and his fellow mages are more than enough to deal with any human mage and the Elfin warriors will slaughter any Goblins that dare oppose them. No, we don’t need yours or Logan’s help. Besides,” he added with finality. “Aren’t you supposed to be leaving soon? Returning to Logan’s family home I believe?”

  And just like that, he dismissed her.

  El’s anger was boiling over and Logan got to listen to several hours of her venting her frustration. For his part, Logan had a horribly bad feeling about the entire situation. The mage, Reese, had spoken of the god, Ares, according to Lan’s retelling of Dan’tael’s story. Ares was the god of war and Logan, of all people, knew that the gods sometimes took a very active interest in the mortal realms but, why General Siris and his mage Reese? What link existed there? A deep sense of foreboding weighed heavily on him and he did his best to keep that feeling to himself, though he was pretty sure he was doing a lousy job of it. Thankfully, El was far too distracted and preoccupied with her own family frustrations to notice.

  Logan understood that the clan chiefs felt this was an Elfin matter. He had developed a good understanding of how the Elfin mind processed such things and knew that they wouldn’t accept any outside assistance. They had come a long way, but asking the humans for help with the Trolls was a huge thing for them, and that was only done with the fate of all their people on the line. It was unrealistic to expect them to ask for help now, particularly when they couldn’t fathom how great a threat they were facing.

  With the situation with his daughter so recent and with the link between Logan and El to add insult to injury, Aerlian’thor was far too angry with his daughter to really hear anything she said. It would take time to heal those wounds and Elves had long memories. But, just because Logan could understand it, it didn’t change the fact that the Elfin council was grossly underestimating the threat against them and were sending his friends into grave danger without him.

  Logan, on the other hand, knew exactly how evil General Siris and his mage Reese could be. He had a pretty good idea of how much trouble they could cause to the world and he knew what kind of pain the Dark Elves were facing. This was exactly the sort of thing that Hephaestus had built him for. His duty was clear. And with Aerlian’thor effectively washing his hands of both El and himself, Logan wasn’t particularly concerned about alienating the in-laws.

  So, several days after the arrival of the dark-elf, as Lan and his Elfin troops were making their final preparations before leaving for the Great Swamp, Logan announced to the clan chiefs at council that he and El’dreathia had to get back home to look after his sister and that they would be leaving early the next morning. The clan chiefs acknowledged and approved his decision. Aerlian’thor, Logan was disappointed to see, didn’t soften a bit, stating that it was probably for the best. Of the five-member council only Lean’thor raised an eyebrow at the sudden announcement. But he flashed Logan a knowing look and a quick wink as he gave his approval - which spoke volumes. Logan was hard pressed to control his answering smile.

  I should have known I’d never put one over on him, Logan thought. He’s been at this too long.

  El, on the other hand, was completely caught off guard by Logan’s announcement and stood with her mouth open in shock as he spoke to the council, her temper on the rise.

  How dare he, she thought.

  It was bad enough that he hadn’t actively supported her request to go with the warriors, but now he was making decisions and speaking for her. She was flabbergasted. She knew that he understood the potential danger that Lan and Raeth were walking into better than anyone, and he wanted to go home? Her fury and anger smashed against the mental walls that she was stunned to discover Logan had raised against her. He’s getting too good at that, she thought.

  When her father actually commended Logan’s judgement in the matter, it was almost more than she could bear and it was all she could do not to summon the power to fry both of them on the spot. Fists clenched in fury, she decided etiquette be damned and stormed from the chamber without waiting to be dismissed.

  She was torn as she stormed around her rooms. In some ways she wanted nothing more than to raise her own mental barriers and not give Logan the opportunity to plead his case or apologize, as she was certain he would. On the other, she wanted to keep those barriers down so that she could let him know exactly how angry she was. In the end, her desire to be heard won out and she kept her walls down, mentally preparing what she would say to Logan.

  But, as night progressed, her chance slipped away. Logan didn’t come to apologize, mentally or physically. And sometime in the early morning, when she finally broke down and approached him mentally, she was shocked to find that he hadn’t even lowered his own walls. He kept his mental walls in place, even while he slept.

  Apparently, I’ve taught him far too well, she thought in frustration.

  Walking A Dangerous Line

  Early in the morning with the sun barely over the horizon, still angry and resentful but now also tired, El reluctantly accompanied Logan out of the Elfin village and south towards home. She didn’t want to go home, but it didn’t make any sense to stay in the Elfin village with things as they were. Her father had been abundantly clear that she had over stayed her welcome.

  Logan felt El staring daggers into his back as they walked. He knew she was exceptionally angry with him and honestly he was more than a little afraid to take down the mental walls that shielded him from her fury. They walked for hours in silence until, with the sun high in the sky, they stopped at a small stream and Logan refilled their water skins.

  Breaking for lunch, they ate their cold meal in silence. As they ate, El noticed that Logan was trying desperately to keep the smile off his face. It made her angrier to think that he might be laughing at her. She wanted to touch his mind and find out what he found so damn funny, but her version of the silent treatment included mental exchanges.

  Besides, she thought regretfully. He’s likely still blocking me.

  She kept her thoughts and her words to herself as they cleaned up the remains of the meal.

  “So, are you ready?”

  El stared at him for a moment, her gaze frosty.

  “Whenever you are!”

  Logan could contain himself no longer and the laughter exploded from him. El glared daggers at him.

  “And, just what in Hades do you find so damned funny?”

  Logan managed to stop laughing long enough to speak.

  “You, El. You’ve been so focused on being angry with me that you haven’t paid the slightest attention to where we’ve been walking.”

  El harrumphed dismissively, folded her arms crossly over her chest and turned away from him. At first she noticed nothing, but as she finally noted the sun’s position in the sky above the forest canopy she realized that something wasn’t right. She whirled back and stared harshly at Logan, only to find him smiling back at her.

  “There you go,” he said pleasantly. “You hadn’t realized it in your anger, but we’ve been moving more and more North-East ever since we left. I figure at this point, we’ve probably put enough distance between Er’thaental and us that we can just start heading directly North towards the Great Swamp. If we’re lucky, we should mange to catch Lan’thor and his warriors as they enter it.”

  She stared at him in stunned silence for a moment.

  “You’ve been planning this all along,” she said sullenly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because, if you hadn’t argued with your father and gotten pissed with me, no one would have believed we were heading home. The council was watching us closely and your father already held us once. If they thought for a moment that we were going to the Great Swamp, I have no doubt that they would have held us again. Probably not for too long, just long enough that we wouldn’t be able to offer Lan and Raeth any assistance. We needed to get out of the village and I needed you angry at me to do it,” he continued softly. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

 
El harrumphed at him again but not nearly as forcefully as before. Logan knew, well hoped at least, that she was softening.

  “You’re getting far to good at those mental blocks,” she announced somewhat petulantly.

  A very dangerous game to play with a woman, lad, came a deep rumbling voice in his head.

  I know, Hephaestus. I know.

  El shouldered her pack and turned North, calling over her shoulder.

  “Well, we’d best get moving,” El announced. “Daylight’s wasting.”

  Plots And Plans

  Ar’n’tor trudged along through the forest undergrowth, slapping at his neck as something stung him for what felt like the thousandth time, and muttering foully under his breath. The mage had never been fond of the forest – he preferred the comfort of Er’thaental – but this excursion had brought his dislike to new highs. Between the bugs, the mud and the sheer effort of keeping up with the surrounding warriors he was finding the entire mission abysmal. This was the second time in recent memory that he had been sent out into the wilderness for what he considered to be a waste of his time and talents.

  The first excursion had been that ill-fated trip to return that spoiled brat, El’dreathia, back to her father. Ignoring, for a moment, the fact that Aerlian’thor had treated him like a glorified babysitter, the fact that El’dreathia had had the audacity, and worse yet the power, to refuse to return with him had made him look the fool. Now, he was being sent on some wild goose chase into the Great Swamp, of all places, in order to confront some human hedge wizard who was picking on their Dark Elf cousins - cousins who had voluntarily chosen to give up magic many centuries ago. As far as Ar’n’tor was concerned, they were now crippled because of it, and it wasn’t surprising really that they couldn’t take care of themselves. In his estimation of things, the stupid creatures were simply getting what they deserved. Ar’n’tor slapped his neck as yet another flying bug took a bite out of him.