The Revenge of the Elves

by Gary Alan Wassner

  Calipee stared across the plain. “We’re outnumbered a hundred to one.”

  “They have no machinery of war, my lord,” Dustin said. “No ladders or siege engines.”

  “Their leader seems unconcerned.” Calipee’s eyes narrowed on the red-robed woman parading before the ranks. How will they breach the walls? Sorcery. Will they climb the stones?

  “What is she waiting for?” Dustin asked.

  You to tell them that my son has returned? “Sundown. The dark doesn’t hamper them,” the Baron replied.

  “They’re so quiet.” Dustin clenched his hands behind his back, his thumbs twirling nervously.

  “Our enemy is not born of this earth. They are Colton’s engines of war,” Calipee replied.

  “They don’t eat. They don’t rest. They just stand there,” Dustin said, his eyes glued on the enemy.

  Have you chosen your allegiances badly? Too late for misgivings. “We have perhaps an hour or so more of daylight. Prepare the men,” he leaned back and directed a lieutenant behind him. Dustin turned to assist and the Baron grabbed his forearm. “Stay. I need you here.” In seconds, runners took off up and down the walls. “Sound the horns. Let them hear it below if they have ears to hear it with,” Calipee ordered another aide.

  Dustin shifted his weight from leg to leg and his eyes flashed left and right.

  He’s uncomfortable here. Calipee leaned in to his ear. “Is there no sign of Robyn?” he whispered.

  “Has he contacted you again? Is he coming?” Dustin’s breath was hurried, his booted foot tapped the stone repeatedly.

  “I hoped,” Calipee lied. “I still hope.” He knew his son would never abandon the heir. If Tamarand should fall, the Quest would continue. You told her, didn’t you? She’s here for him.

  A trumpet sounded. Three short notes and one that wouldn’t end. The blare echoed across the battlements and faded slowly in the growing gloom of the darkening sky. Armor rustled and weapons clanked.

  “How far is Promanthea from the city?” Dustin asked.

  He’s anxious. What did he promise her? “No more than five kilometers to the north,” the Baron replied. “But she doesn’t know.” And neither did you, until now.

  “This must be difficult for him, abandoning you like this,” Dustin said. “He will come. You told me how much he cares for you. How could he…”

  “Love and war! One always tests the other,” the Baron replied. Did Robyn get my message? Calipee tried to contact him, as they had always done in the past. He sent the warning to stay away using the Noban branch as his son instructed.

  “Five kilometers is nothing. Is he hiding still? Where?”

  Hiding? “It is my son Colton wants.” And my city? My people? The, army he faced now was like no other. A city for a world. Calipee stood up straighter. “When he finds Robyn has not come to our aid, his anger will likely be even greater.”

  “Would he dare attack a Lalas?” Dustin asked. He breathed heavier. He shuffled even more.

  “Promanthea will not reveal himself. The Possessed will never find him if Robyn doesn’t come,” And he won’t come. This war won’t end here.

  “Why won’t he help? Is he a coward? I was sure…” Dustin stopped himself.

  “Sure of what?” Calipee looked at him. So bitter. “For whose sake Dustin? We are but one city. The earth is a much bigger battleground.” He watched him closely. His cheek twitched. His eyes were unfocused.

  “My Lord, come see this,” an aide by the wall called to him. The baron stepped forward but Dustin didn’t join him. A number of soldiers gathered around to watch what was unfolding below.

  The Forsaken galloped through the multitude as if it wasn’t there. She charged to a place beneath the bulwark upon which they stood. Colton’s crimson sun fluttered stiffly behind her, and her hair flew wildly about her face. Her white skin was stark against the scarlet of her clothes. Death cloaked in the bloodied garments of Sedahar.

  Her horse reared up and its hooves slammed back down. She looked up at the Baron and laughed. Savage eyes, hate-filled and violent panned the balustrade. She raised her sword above her head and bent it sideways. Then she pointed its tip at the Baron.

  The last rays of the sun fizzled out. “And so it begins,” Calipee said.

  Chapter Fifty-four

  “Keep up with me,” Premoran turned his head to the side and yelled. “We must ride with great speed.” They charged through the twisted forest. Tree limbs, rocks, brambles, logs, gullies and sink holes all tried to trip them up. They dodged some, jumped others, ducked underneath the next, and rode around the rest.

  Alemar watched the path but her mind was elsewhere. The image of herself in the stone from Sedahar haunted her. She leaned low on her horse’s withers and forced thoughts of the youngling.

  Is it me? Will I be the one? Her finger rose to the mark behind her ear.

  Giles rode right behind, one eye always upon her. She looked back and was comforted by his devotion. He’d suffered more from Clovis’ death than he was willing to talk about, but she knew. She sensed it. For all his posing, his heart was on his sleeve. Clovis was his childhood friend, as close as even a brother could be. Clovis’ parents were old by the time they took Giles in, the orphaned son of a pair of adventurers. Before the darkness, when King Whitestar wasn’t hampered by fear and isolationism, they quested deeper into the frozen reaches north of Eleutheria than any before them, lured by the tales of great treasure in the lost lands. But when Giles was still young, they failed to return. His new family raised him as if he was of their own blood. Alemar knew how hard he took Clovis’ loss.

  Teetoo shouted in Premoran’s ear, “Take my reins.”

  “You sense it too?” He reached for the horse. “Do what you can to protect the Princess. She must get to Pardatha. My brother has more eyes in these parts than the trees here have leaves.”

  “I’ll scout for us.” Teetoo’s face had already changed.

  “Meet us at the forest’s edge. Firstspeed!” Premoran said. The wizard lifted his hand and the leather straps found his fingers despite the great speed at which they galloped. “Don’t underestimate him. We’ll not be so lucky as to escape his wrath again. His power grows by the hour,” Premoran grimaced.

  Teetoo rose in the air, completing the transmutation as he ascended. His arms thinned and extended, his legs curled beneath him. He withdrew the blood from his extremities and lightened his body’s friction points, increasing the speed of his climb. Great wings spread from his shoulders, soft and pliant. They absorbed the warmth of the sun and became even more buoyant and flexible. Opaque lids closed protectively over his pinpoint pupils.

  His shadow crossed Alemar’s path and her eyes shot up. She saw his transformed figure streak across the sky.

  The Weloh rose so far, so fast that the forest below quickly became no more than a green patch on a brown field. From his vantage point, he could see for miles in all directions. He flew effortlessly, mimicking the pattern of a large bird, swooping and circling, gliding and diving, scanning the terrain all the while. His senses were enhanced. He saw things from a different perspective, in a different way. The wind, the currents, the humidity were objects to him, like the trees and rocks and water on the surface. His body was light and flexible and he felt more at home in this existence than any other.

  Nothing moved below except for their own four horses. The woods were quiet, too quiet. On the forest’s edge he saw the rooftops of the buildings in Peltaran. From above the town, it looked like a blemish upon the earth, a pock mark on a vibrant tapestry. The trees avoid it, he thought. The expanse of foliage around it looked healthy, and the small circle of civilization seemed out of place in its midst. It glowed reddish, something he had not noticed until this moment. Not natural. Like it’s dying.

  His right eye caught movement in the north and he pivoted in that direction. Banking wide, he hovered and focused with both pupils. Had he risen only a bit higher he would have missed it, concealed
as it was in the brush. As I suspected, we are not alone. The enemy circled and doubled back, and then moved steadily toward his friends.

  Premoran lifted his chin and squinted. The sun was bright. Shadows ran across the ground. He turned to the others, grimacing, “Quick, quick, quick! We’ve been spotted!” Leaning into his horse, he galloped through the trees. “Come!” he yelled. “It’s tracking us.”

  Alemar caught up to him, with Giles right behind. Nothing was going to harm her, Premoran would make certain of that. Not now. Not here. He veered left and dashed down a small path. It opened onto an alleyway created by two rows of tall trees. He tore down it. At its end, he jumped a hedge and crashed through the underbrush. “There’s a clearing ahead,” he shouted back at them. “We’ll decide what to do when we get there.”

  A wall of shrubbery loomed in front of him and he disappeared behind it. Alemar pushed through and Giles followed. Premoran swung around and faced them, his horse pawing the earth. “We have a minute, no more.” He looked down his nose at Alemar. “I won’t risk losing you,” his voice was stern, strong. He spoke low but it resounded in the small area. “You and Giles must go on to Pardatha without me. I will detain this enemy.” His orders were not open to question. “Return to the path we just left and follow it to the stump a hundred yards down. Go left just past it and then keep going. Stop for nothing!” he warned. “Take Teetoo’s horse with you. He’ll find you at the very edge of the woods. You’ll see a moss covered boulder, larger than the rest. Wait there. He’ll guide you from that point until I return. If he doesn’t arrive within ten minutes, leave. Do not wait!” Alemar started to protest and he hushed her with a raised hand. Lifting himself in his saddle, he leaned in close to them. “Keep to the shadows until you reach the water. It will take you longer, but you’ll be able to stay hidden if you’re careful, and you will be careful! Follow the shoreline north. I’ll rejoin you when you reach the River of Tears.”

  “Without you?” Alemar baulked. “How can we leave you here?”

  “You are not leaving me, Princess. I am leaving you,” he replied, and without another word, he kicked his horse hard. The animal vaulted forward, leapt over the bushes in front of him, and he was gone.

  Alemar grabbed the loose reins of Teetoo’s horse and she and Giles pushed their way through the brush until they found the route he spoke of. “Let’s go,” she said to Giles. Together, they tore off down the path.

  Teetoo circled high above. The lone rider disappeared and reappeared beneath the trees. He wanted to approach it from behind without it being aware of his presence, and he watched as it drew closer to the others. An air flow lifted him from below and he let his wings billow, slowing his speed. He cocked his head and looked down.

  It was moving faster than before, heading straight for what could only be Premoran, Alemar and Giles and his riderless horse. He flexed his wings at their tips and soared ahead. He needed to get closer, the trees were too dense. The figure flashed in and out of the brush and he feared he would lose sight of it.

  One of the four figures veered off to the west and the other three continued on northward. After splitting, they moved quickly. The north bound rider headed directly for the interloper. Teetoo assumed it was Premoran. The Wizard knew the enemy was coming.

  Teetoo circled again and hovered above the enemy, waiting to dive.

  One speck became two. He watched as what he thought was one rider separated from the other and headed south. They must have been traveling tight together or one was cloaking itself until now so no one could see it. It looped around and was coming up on Premoran from the opposite direction. That was the one he targeted.

  He elongated his bones as much as they could tolerate and his body wafted upward, lighter and more maneuverable. His legs and feet disappeared in the soft down of his underbelly and his remaining facial skin stretched thin over his extruding cheek bones, nose and jaw. He hung in the air.

  The Wizard was being approached from two sides and Teetoo would take care of one. Hovering, he released blood to his extremities, making them heavier, denser, so that when he dove, he’d fall faster. He locked his eyes on his target.

  Thwak! Pain. The arrow pierced the flesh beneath his left wing, shattering the fragile bone. He drew the blood away from the wound, stemming the bleeding, but it was too late. The poison coursed through his veins.

  Alemar and Giles galloped down a path littered with debris. The sun broke through the treetops in brilliant bursts, blinding them for seconds at a time. Giles glanced up hoping the flashes would end. He saw something fall from the sky.

  “Look up Princess,” he said. “The Weloh’s attacking.”

  She raised her head and saw him spiraling down. Her heart stopped. “Giles!” she cried. “He’s falling!”

  Chapter Fifty-five

  Elsinestra sat before her library desk, lost in contemplation. The Tomes were open before her. Ribbons of many colors marked page upon page containing passages she’d review in detail later. She forced herself to focus. So much was vying for her attention. Treestar’s failing health, Fallean’s descent into the waters of Tallon, the safety of their soldiers in far off Tamarand. She read the great books often for wisdom, for lore, and for spiritual enlightenment, but this time what she sought could alter the path of the world.

  She rubbed her eyes. The print was so small. I’ve passed over something. I can feel it. She rested her chin in her hands. So many passages. What am I missing?

  She returned her gaze to the book. Nothing spoke directly about breaking the bond between a Lalas and its Chosen. She turned the pages, skimming for words.

  When a tree dies, so does its Chosen. When a Chosen dies, the Lalas lives on. But the bond’s been broken. They live long lives, but one could die prematurely. She flipped a page over. There must be some references to this.

  She browsed the passages devoted to the Chosen whose lives were terminated for one reason or another. Luxian and Dracon, Serena and Patiar, Fiama and Tessera, Petre and Bakara… there were many throughout history. None were relevant. None said anything about a willful severing.

  Her mind wandered. She thought of Robyn and Promanthea, the tragedy of his choice. He must know of the threat to his tree by now. How difficult for him. Carelessly, she thumbed through the pages. Liam is right, Robyn must survive, even if Promanthea is attacked, even if he should die, may the First help us all.

  She turned another page, but she was no longer paying attention. Fallean, she pictured his face, his mannerisms. Are you safe? Will the Lalas accept you? None of her sons knew what was happening to their father, how ill he was becoming. None knew what she suspected, that his mind was going. None were home. Dalloway? Elion? When will I see you again? It was your choice to leave. All of you. She stopped her reverie. It struck her. Choice! That’s it! I’m looking for the wrong words. She flipped the pages quickly, one after another. Ah! Here… she read the poem.

  ‘Tis choice that often determines fate,

  can it ever be too little or too late?

  Though this may sound much like contradiction,

  the truth is a blend of fact and fiction.

  When life withdraws or is taken away,

  When eternal night steals the light from the day,

  When what was once shall ne’er be again,

  When a prodigious age comes to an untimely end,

  Not all must concede,

  Not all must die,

  Not all must retreat,

  Not all must abide.

  ‘Tis possible to forge a new path in the dark,

  to set aflame a light by which to embark,

  To choose or be chosen,

  To persist or to change,

  when the old cannot stay

  yet one half still remains.

  Must the shadow of darkness devour them both?

  When its time has elapsed,

  When its moment has passed,

  When the reasons for staying or perishing fast

 
; have died with the victim,

  abandoned at last.

  ‘If you cannot prevail here, must I depart too?’

  Is that the question he is asking of you?

  “Yes! Yes it is!” Elsinestra said aloud. Finally a passage that speaks to the issue. She reread the poem. The reasons for staying or for perishing have died with the victim! How much clearer could it be? One half still remains. The Chosen can live on. That’s what it’s saying. She closed her eyes. But he must make that choice without lingering too long.

  She committed it to memory and slammed the book shut. I’ve got to find Liam. She grabbed her cape, flung it over her shoulders and ran for the exit.

  Across the hallway, through the far door, down the winding steps, over the landing, she raced for the Chamber of the Stars. The double doors were open and she ran through. People milled about the hall and she hurried by.

  “Prince Fallean!” she heard someone say.

  She hurried past him.

  “Prince Fallean is back,” another said.

  My son? Her pulse quickened. Fallean? “Where is he?” she asked a woman whom she recognized in the crowd. “Did you see him?”

  “Yes, your Highness. They escorted him to the Chamber above.”

  The experienced guards were all in Tamarand. They forgot to come and get her. They didn’t know I was in the library, she thought.

  “And my niece? Was she with him?”

  “There was no one with your son. He was alone,” the woman answered.

  “No bodyguard?”

  “No. Just him,” she replied.

  Alone? Why would he return alone? Did something happen on the way? The message from Tallon was clear, three of them were headed for Seramour. Is he hurt? she wondered. She ran to the stairway at the end of the hall. Two steps at a time, she climbed to the Chamber above. My son. My son….