Elvangar

by Richard S. Tuttle

  “Yes,” smirked Vand, “and that part was delicious, watching you betray your lover. Of course, I already knew he was guilty, but that would hardly teach you a lesson now, would it?”

  “Is that what this is all about?” snapped Lady Mystic. “You are tearing my heart apart to teach me a lesson? How will that make me serve you better?”

  “Serve me?” balked Vand. “You will no longer be allowed to serve me. Your only task in life from this moment forward is to enjoy the suffering of your lover.”

  Lady Mystic’s tears flowed down her face and dripped onto the floor. Vand glared at her and waved the guards over.

  “Escort this person out of the temple,” instructed the Emperor with a dismissive wave of his hand.

  * * *

  Tens of thousands of Jiadin surrounded the temple at Vandegar. Fakaran wagons dotted the encampment, and more of them constantly moved in and out of the campsite. Some warriors stood around in groups talking about the olden days of tribal warfare, but the most prevalent topic was the Prophecy of the Dragons. A feeling of isolation reigned over the men as much as it would in a city under siege. While no army was attacking them, there were dragons in every direction. No sane man attempted to leave the safe area of the Vandegar Temple.

  “We might as well be dead,” complained one warrior. “What are we going to do? Stay here for the rest of our lives and hope the Fakarans don’t stop sending us food?”

  “Why don’t you go find the head dragon and defeat it,” taunted another warrior.

  “Don’t talk nonsense to me,” snapped the first warrior. “There is no man alive that can take on one of those dragons and live to tell about it. We are all doomed.”

  “I would do anything to get out of here,” sighed a third warrior. “Life has not been very good since Grulak rose to power. I wish he had never been born. We would still be tribesmen riding the plains and looking for spoils. Those were the days.”

  “I heard there is war coming again,” interjected a fourth warrior. “I wouldn’t mind wielding a sword for something other than practice. I don’t even care who the enemy is.”

  “That is just a tale,” scowled the first warrior. “That is supposed to happen after the dragons go away. You will never live to see it.”

  Suddenly, a bunch of shouting erupted, and the four warriors turned to see what the excitement was. Thousands of men were pointing to the east. They turned to see what everyone was so excited about and saw a dragon flying towards them.

  “They ain’t suppose to bother us here,” worried the first warrior. “Where do we go now?”

  “Look,” shouted the second warrior, “there is a man astride it.”

  “Someone has defeated the King of the Dragons?” gasped the third warrior. “Can it be?”

  Everyone watched as the giant dragon banked and flew around the Vandegar Temple. A man was clearly visible riding on the back of the huge dragon. He held some kind of long staff high in the air and pointed to the front of the temple. The dragon swooped down, and warriors scrambled for whatever cover they could find.

  The dragon hovered in front of the temple and rested its claws gently on the railing of a balcony. The man slid off the back of the dragon onto the balcony and the dragon flapped its powerful wings and lifted off the balcony and soared high into the sky. The dragon continued to circle the temple, but the warriors’ attention was now on the man with the staff. Thousands of Jiadin warriors crowded as close as they could to the front of the temple to see who the man was. Suddenly, he held up both of arms for quiet.

  “Greetings Jiadin warriors,” shouted the man. “Your time of exile is now over. I am King Rejji of Fakara, ruler of all lands east of the Fortung Mountains. I come to you to welcome you into the fold of Fakara and ask you to prepare for war.”

  Rejji gazed at the mass of men below the balcony and wondered how they were receiving his message. It was heartening that no one had tried to attack him yet.

  “Our land will soon be invaded from across the sea,” Rejji continued. “The Fakarans are determined to repel the evil invaders. I want my Jiadin brothers to stand by my side. Will you fight?”

  The crowd mumbled and glanced at one another.

  “Will you fight?” Rejji shouted louder. “Are there men below me who call themselves warriors? Or do I gaze down upon a flock of clova? Will you fight?”

  Thousands of men raised their swords and shouted, but Rejji was not satisfied.

  “Have I not saved you from the dragons?” shouted Rejji. “I offer every warrior a home, a horse, and a weapon. I offer every warrior a chance to go down in history as part of the greatest army to ever exist. I offer every warrior a chance to fight a foe that threatens to annihilate all life from this land, including each and every one of you. Will you fight by my side?”

  Tens of thousands of voices rang out in unison. Swords were raised high, and the warriors started chanting Rejji’s name. Rejji grinned and raised the Staff of the Astor high.

  Chapter 35

  King of the Elves

  “The large crossbows are powerful enough to penetrate their hulls,” declared Emperor Marak, “but we need to create those holes below the waterline. Only when the Motangan ship tried to turn did the sea flow in.”

  “That is difficult,” frowned Captain Mynor. “As soon as the bolts drop below the water, they will lose a great deal of their punch. They may no longer pierce the hulls.”

  “Well,” the Torak shook his head, “that is what we need. We need to create holes below the waterline. See what you can come up with.”

  Emperor Marak left the room and walked along a corridor. He saw Rejji just entering the palace in Angragar and hurried to meet him.

  “I heard that your test went well,” smiled Rejji. “Is the elven king safe?”

  “They are on their way to Angragar as we speak,” nodded the Torak. “They should be here soon. As for the test, we still have some refinements to make. How did your meeting with the Jiadin go?”

  “Much better than I expected,” frowned the Astor, “but I do not care much for creating false prophecies. I feel as if I tricked them into doing what is right.”

  “That is exactly what you did,” smiled Emperor Marak. “Do not let it trouble you so much. You tried every other way to bring the Jiadin to your side. They are primarily men without honor. They care for nothing other than fighting and plunder.”

  “Still,” frowned Rejji, “it does not feel right. What will Kaltara think?”

  “You had the choice of tricking the Jiadin or slaughtering them,” retorted the Torak. “Not only would you have wasted eighty thousand potential warriors by destroying the Jiadin, but you would have also lost the majority of the free tribes trying to do it. As for how Kaltara would feel about it, he instructed you to gather the faithful and the unfaithful. Besides, where was your deceit?”

  “I used a prophecy to trick the Jiadin,” replied Rejji. “I do not think the Dragon Prophecy really meant to foretell what I did with Myka. I don’t think it had anything to do with the Jiadin.”

  “Others disagree with you,” smiled Marak. “Yltar says that Myka believes in the prophecy and that is was resolved as it should have been. She says only the errors of the humans who recorded it make it appear unrelated. Put this matter to rest, Rejji. Now that you have the Jiadin, figure how best to use them to defeat Vand. Trust me when I say that before this is over, they will praise you for gathering them. Vand’s forces would have slaughtered them in the opening salvo of the war.”

  “I suppose you are right,” nodded the Astor. “I still don’t know whether or not I can integrate them into the Free Tribes. Years under Grulak’s reign have twisted their minds. All they want to do is kill someone for the pleasure of it.”

  “Maybe you can siphon off those that can be rehabilitated and keep the others separate,” suggest the Torak. “I am sure that you will find the right solution. Let’s go down to the docks and greet the elven king.”

  The Torak and th
e Astor left the palace and headed for the docks. Lyra was already at the wharf and the trio gathered together.

  “Here they come,” pointed the Star of Sakova. “How will you greet him, Rejji?”

  “As a friend and ally,” answered the Astor. “Whether or not he joins his people to ours, it was his ancestors who preserved this city by hiding it. We owe the elves a debt of gratitude for that.”

  The elven scout ship sailed slowly across the harbor as Alastasia nervously piloted the vessel around the anchored ships. She called for Tamar to take the helm as they approached the dock.

  “I am not about to ram this ship into the Star,” Alastasia said anxiously.

  “You did well,” smiled Tamar as he took the helm.

  Alastasia moved forward and stood beside her father and sister.

  “You see, it is not too hard to sail,” smiled Avalar as he put his arm around his daughter.

  “It was fun,” smiled Alastasia. “See the two people with Emperor Marak? The man is Rejji. He is the Astor. The woman is Lyra, the Star. You will like them.”

  “Do not be offended if they call me Mistake,” interjected Alahara. “It is the only name they have ever known for me.”

  “I will not be offended,” promised the elven king. “From what you have told me of your lives in this world, I owe much to those three.”

  The elven ship glided alongside the dock. Alahara grabbed the forward line and threw it to a dockhand. HawkShadow did the same with the stern line. King Avalar and the two princesses stepped off the ship and onto the dock. Marak, Rejji, and Lyra bowed slightly to the king. Avalar bowed in return.

  “We meet again, Marak,” smiled Avalar as the two groups closed with each other. “I am indebted for your help on the Island of Darkness.”

  “And we are all indebted to your people for hiding Angragar so long ago,” replied the Torak. “May I introduce, Lyra, the Star of Sakova, and Rejji, the Astor and King of Fakara.”

  “Let us go to the palace and have refreshments while you rest from your journey,” suggested Rejji.

  “An excellent idea,” nodded Avalar. “We are not staying long in Angragar. I am anxious to return to my people, but there is a favor that I would like to ask of you.”

  “Whatever I can do for you,” replied Rejji, “will be done. What do you need?”

  “I wish to be properly dressed for my return to Elvangar,” stated the elven king. “I also want my daughters to be presented properly. Are there tailors in Angragar that can accommodate me?”

  “There are many fine tailors in Angragar, “ frowned Rejji, “but how will they know what to make?”

  “Tamar mentioned that he saw some people in this city wearing elven garb,” replied Avalar. “He could also consult with the tailors to advise them.”

  “I forgot that Angragar was trading with the elves when it was preserved,” smiled Rejji. “Everything is exactly as it was when the city was abandoned. I will arrange for it.”

  “Excellent,” smiled Avalar as the group started walking towards the palace.

  Marak dropped back and draped his arms over the shoulders of Mistake and MistyTrail.

  “Princesses, eh?” the Torak smiled. “I can’t wait to see the two of you in proper clothes.”

  Both Alahara and Alastasia scowled at Marak, and they both gently jabbed him in the side.

  “I am truly happy for both of you,” smiled Marak. “Your father seems to be a man you can look up to. Don’t trouble him too much.”

  “Too much?” chuckled Alahara. “We would never trouble him at all.”

  “Right,” laughed Alastasia.

  Avalar heard the laughing behind him. He looked over his shoulder and smiled. When the group reached the palace, Rejji snapped off orders to his men. Food was brought into the courtyard, and tailors took measurements. The meal was informal, and people came and went during it. Marak took Rhoda aside and had a long discussion with her. Tamar and HawkShadow sat in a corner and discussed tales of each other’s homeland. As dusk approached, the clothes that Avalar requested were delivered. He excused himself and took the princesses with him. They were gone a long time, but when they returned, everyone stared in silence.

  Avalar, Alahara, and Alastasia were dressed in gowns of pure white tyrik silk with gold edgings. Their long hair flowed down their backs, their pointed ears protruding through the hair. On their shoulders were golden crests.

  “What a beautiful sight you present,” smiled Lyra. “What do the crests signify?”

  “It is the crest of Kieran,” answered King Avalar. “As king of Elvangar, I am the head of the Kieran line. My daughters will follow my rule when my time is over.”

  “I hope that is not anytime soon,” interjected Marak. “Will the elves stand with us against Vand?”

  “I cannot answer your question, Emperor Marak,” frowned King Avalar. “I have been gone too long from my people. Elvangar is troubled right now. That is the reason for my need to return promptly. I can promise you that we will not be your enemies. I am impressed with what I have seen during my short stay here. The stories told me by Alahara and Anastasia add more to the image of your righteousness, but I must do what is best for the elven people.”

  “Understandable,” nodded the Torak. “Will we have contact with you in the future?”

  “We will,” nodded King Avalar, “even if that communication is to inform you that the elves will remain lost to others. Now we must go.”

  “It is almost dark,” Rejji declared. “Will you not wait for morning?”

  “No,” replied King Avalar. “I wish to time my arrival in Elvangar for when the people are awake. That requires me to leave now. May we meet again under favorable terms.”

  * * *

  “Alamanda,” pointed Tamar as the setting sun reflected off the white piles of rubble. “Should we dock there and gather my warriors?”

  “There will be no fighting upon our return,” King Avalar shook his head. “Either the people will accept me as the rightful king, or they will not. I will not kill them to ensure my rule.”

  “That’s good,” frowned Princess Alahara. “I feel naked without my knives.”

  “You should have no need of knives,” smiled King Avalar. “You are a Kieran. Knives are ineffective compared to your other powers.”

  “If we had learned to use those other powers,” frowned Princess Alastasia. “We never finished our lessons with Garl.”

  “If Garl still lives,” promised the king, “your lessons will continue.”

  “What will you do with our mother?” asked Alahara. “She will want to put us back in prison.”

  “Or worse,” worried Alastasia.

  “She will have to imprison me first,” vowed Avalar. “While I will not fight to regain the throne, I will die to protect my daughters. I cannot imagine Alycia as the woman you described to me. I fear that she is under the power of Karaza. Whether it breaks the law or not, I will kill that evil mage. He is a disgrace to the elven people.”

  “Be careful,” warned Alastasia. “We have just found our father. We do not want to lose you again.”

  Avalar smiled broadly and wrapped his arms around his daughters.

  “You will never lose me again,” promised the elven king. “Not until I die.”

  The ancient elven scout ship sailed through the night with each of the crew taking a turn at the helm. As the morning sun broke the horizon, Tamar guided the ship through the protective illusion that hid the channel to Morada. King Avalar walked to the bow and stood staring at the distant Gates of Elvangar. Alahara and Alastasia soon joined him and split up to flank him. He reached out his arms and draped them over the princesses’ shoulders.

  “It is beautiful,” remarked Alahara. “I could not envision it from your description, MistyTrail.”

  “Alastasia,” Avalar corrected with a smile. “It will be hard for the two of you to adjust to Elvangar, but your names must be the first step. You are princesses of the Kieran line. Never let anyo
ne forget that.”

  “You appear tense, father,” frowned Alahara as she felt her father’s arm stiffen as the Gates of Elvangar approached.

  “I am,” admitted the king. “From what Tamar told me about Elvangar since my departure, I am concerned for our reception. There will be sentries atop the Gates of Elvangar. The queen will be alerted to our arrival before we finish passing through the channel. I can only presume that Karaza will know as well.”

  “There will be boats waiting for us on the other side,” warned Alastasia.

  “Yes,” nodded the king. “That is as it should be. Do not attack them. They will not harm us.”

  Everyone fell silent as the scout ship entered the narrow channel between the massive stone walls of the Gates of Elvangar. The scout ship glided silently through the channel. When the channel emptied into the harbor of Morada, the sun was shining bright upon the city.

  Instead of two boats of armed soldiers waiting for them, dozens of ships lined the way to the docks. Cheers erupted from the passengers of the ships, and the soldiers bowed low as the king passed by. Horns blared from all over the city, and Avalar could see people running to the docks. His lips widened and parted in a broad smile. He raised his right arm and waved to the bowing soldiers.

  “Could this be a trick?” asked Alahara. “Or would the citizens welcome you without the blessing of the queen?”

  “I do not know about the queen,” answered Alamar, “but the people are genuine in their joy. It feels so wonderful to be home at last.”

  Without direction from the patrol boats, Tamar guided the elven scout ship to the royal dock. Thousands of people crowded along the wharf and waved. Cheers and shouts filled the air. As the ship glided along side the dock, Alahara moved to get the forward line. Avalar put his arm around her shoulder and stopped her.

  “On this voyage,” Avalar said softly, “you are not a deckhand. Stay by my side.”

  People on the dock reached out and held the ship fast as it floated next to the dock. Avalar guided his two daughter to the side of the ship and stepped onto the dock. Alahara and Alastasia stepped off next and continued to flank their father. The citizens of Morada bowed and singing erupted. King Avalar basked in the reception of the elven people. He smiled broadly and waved to the people for several minutes.