by Sam Ferguson
Ziegler was calling for them to move out just a few minutes later. If Jonathan had had any hope of a slower pace given Ziegler’s injuries, he was sorely mistaken. Not more than ten minutes from the shore, the captain set a grueling pace that he said was a jog. To Jonathan it was definitely a run. His feet thumped and plodded along the grass. Fortunately, the going was much easier than before. Aside from a few hares and several herds of deer, the party saw no other creatures along the way, though they did enjoy several fine meals of roast venison thanks to Moose’s expert hunting and trapping skills.
When they arrived at Inghali, Jonathan was surprised to see a sprawling city made almost entirely of tents. With the exception of a large, round building in the center of the settlement, there wasn’t a single structure that couldn’t be torn down and packed away for a nomadic trip. There were horses and oxen all throughout the city, as well as several chickens and geese.
Jonathan’s first glimpse of a Pes’Tai, or sand elf as they were called in the Common Tongue, was a unique delight. It was a beautiful she-elf, slender and well-toned. She wore a burgundy silk vest without sleeves. A golden design of flower petals was embroidered along the left side of the vest. Her long, black silk trousers flapped gently in the wind as she walked. Upon her right hand she wore a very thick glove of leather, upon which sat a hawk with blinders over its eyes.
She looked at Jonathan and winked, smiling at him before turning to walk away toward some other point in the city. Jonathan couldn’t help but notice how her clothes hugged her curves as she walked. He watched her disappear around a large tent that sprawled out across several hundred square feet, and then turned his attention back to his group. At that moment, he caught a hint of the glare Miranda was shooting his direction before she saw him catch her and turned away.
He drew his brow in close, wondering why she should care if he was impressed with another woman. After all, she was betrothed to Ruben.
Still, as he looked at her, he couldn’t help but remember how he had felt with her hand in his that one time back in the Warrens.
Stop! Jonathan told himself. He shook the image from his head and took in a breath. It was pointless to think about - a childish fantasy even. He needed to concentrate on the task at hand. He was here to help find a friend’s father, and rescue him. He repeated the word “friend” in his mind a few times to beat it into his brain. Unfortunately, in the process he had missed the fact that the group had stopped and Ziegler was giving instructions.
He walked right into Moose’s back.
“Jonathan, get your head out of the clouds. What’s wrong with you?” Ziegler chided.
Jonathan shrugged and smiled sheepishly, but he couldn’t think of anything to say.
“As I was saying, we need to be alert here. Pes’Tai like to fight, and they don’t particularly like outsiders wandering through their city. We are here to find Larkyn, and then be on our way.”
Jonathan, trying to be helpful to make up for his blunder moments ago, pointed to the large building in the center of the city. “How about there? It’s the only permanent structure here.” There hadn’t been much in the travel guide about Inghali. It was listed only as a place to avoid if possible, though it didn’t say why. The book had noted that the Inghali kept amazing horses capable of running farther and faster than most other species known upon the face of Terramyr, but there was only one note regarding the city itself that Jonathan could put to use. The scholar had made a note guessing that the singular permanent structure in the otherwise temporary city made of tents was a governmental structure, a meeting place of sorts for the nomadic clans to gather in and conduct business.
Unfortunately, the scholar had been wrong when he made that guess.
Ziegler shook his head and didn’t even bother turning around to look at the building. “That’s the Inghali arena. That is the last place we need to go.” Ziegler tipped his head forward and glared at Jonathan just long enough that the young boy understood he was to keep quiet. “Now, our sources tell us he came here to hire mercenaries.”
Ruben nodded and commented, “That fits with the disciplinary record as well. He has been reprimanded in the past for using mercenaries as house guards. He has also used them to enforce house rules.” Ruben held up the onyx stone as if to show the source of his information.
“What’s so bad about that?” Bull asked. “I wouldn’t mind having a few mercs around to keep my boy in line at times.” Bull snorted at the joke, but he was the only one laughing, so he clammed up and gave a half-hearted one-finger salute with his index finger.
“There were reports of the mercenaries assaulting civilians,” Ruben said. “That is what’s wrong with it.”
“Right,” Ziegler said. “And now that we know he is behind these kidnappings, I am betting he is using them for far more than just enforcing proper etiquette at the dinner table.”
“There was also a mention of necromancy,” Ruben said, hoisting up the onyx sphere once more. “The three elves couldn’t prove the allegation, so that one was thrown out, but it still raises a concern for us.”
“So, Ruben, where do we go if we want to hire mercenaries?” Ziegler asked. “That’s where we’ll find the fetcher. Then, we can ask him all the questions we want.”
“Unless he has an army,” Ruben pointed out.
Ziegler nodded his head to the side and shrugged. “Yeah, I suppose that might delay things a bit. So, if there is no army, then we interrogate him right here. If there is an army, we follow them to wherever they are going and try to figure out whether he knows where Raven is.”
“Right, and then we kill him anyway,” Bull put in, slamming a fist into his left palm for emphasis. “We can’t let him get away with what he had done in Vizendel.”
Ziegler nodded. “Patience, Bull. We’ll strike when the timing is right.”
“Um, guys,” Jonathan said as he looked up and saw several groups of heavily armed elves on horseback approaching. “We might be in trouble.”
They all looked up and saw not just one group, but five approaching from several directions at once.
“This is not good,” Ruben said.
“Easy boys,” Ziegler said. “I’m sure we can talk them down.”
The groups came in close and then stopped in such a way that Jonathan and the others were pretty well hemmed in. Jonathan studied each group and saw that despite the similarities between them all, each group had particular characteristics that set them apart from the others. One group was dressed in fine silks with golden beads sewn into their right sleeves, a second was dressed in leather and suede, with large scarves wrapped neatly below their chins and strange, pointed leather helmets with horse hair protruding from the top. The third group had not a bow or sword among them. Instead, they each carried large halberds with long, curved blades. These elves each had a symbol of a dragon sewn into their shirts over their left breasts. The fourth group was like the first, dressed in fine silks of many colors, but instead of gold beads they had tattoos on their faces, something Jonathan would have never expected from elves. The last group were all dressed in black trousers and burgundy vests. Several of them carried hawks upon their right arms and had bows slung over their shoulders.
Jonathan immediately recognized the woman in the front of the group. She looked down upon him and smiled again. Despite himself, Jonathan smiled back at her.
“These are five of the most powerful houses in the Pes’Tai nation,” Ruben said in a gasp. “Their decision here will determine our fate.”
Ziegler inched closer to Ruben. “Which one is the most powerful?”
“What?” Ruben asked breathlessly.
“Which group should I address first?” Ziegler asked. “If I tell them we are on holiday…”
The woman smiling at Jonathan pointed at him and said something. The group froze.
Jonathan blushed and smiled wider. “Sorry, I don’t speak your language,” he said.
The woman smiled at him and nodded.
From the group on the left, one of the elves pointed at Miranda and said something.
Then one of the elves with the facial tattoos pointed to Moose and said something else.
“I don’t like this,” Bull said. “Feels wrong.”
All at once, the tension broke and there was a flurry of commotion. A thick, blueish-green bubble appeared around each of them and the elves all converged on them. Jonathan tried to reach for his bow, but the bubble slowed his movements and he hardly did more than lift his right hand three inches before a pair of elves were on him. He could hear muffled shouts and screams. A strange odor filled the bubble he was trapped inside of and then he lost consciousness.
Jonathan woke several hours later, lying upon a long pillow and covered with a red blanket made of silk. He blinked his bleary eyes. He looked up and realized he was inside a tent. Glancing left, he saw a curtain of canvas just two feet away, forming an interior wall of sorts. He turned over and was surprised to see the golden-haired she-elf sitting upon a square pillow on the dirt. She was watching him intently with her green eyes, still smiling at him. The hawk was now resting upon a wooden perch off to the side, tilting its head down at Jonathan warily and staring at him with its golden eyes.
“What happened?” Jonathan asked. Gathering his wits he threw the blanket off from him and noticed that he was now in different clothes. Someone had dressed him in black trousers like those of the young elf, except his had a red silk stripe running down the side of his leg. He looked to his chest and saw that he was wearing a white vest that fastened with leather strips fastened through a series of silver eyelets up the middle. He looked back to the elf. “Where are my clothes? Who dressed me?”
“You should not address me,” the elf said in a pleasantly melodic voice.
“What?” Jonathan asked.
Before he knew what was happening, the flap behind him was pulled aside and another elf, this one a male, strode toward him and slapped a thin piece of wood over his bare forearm.
“OW!” Jonathan yelled as he crawled back from the elf with the wooden switch.
“A slave should learn his place,” the she-elf said.
Jonathan turned to regard her with wide eyes. “Slave?” he echoed.
The switch came down again on his arm, this time crossing over the first welt. “OW!” Jonathan shouted. He was not about to take this lying down. He jumped up to his feet and drove a powerful uppercut into the elf’s chin, knocking his head back. The elf recovered quickly and raised his arm to hit Jonathan again with the switch, but Jonathan ducked low and kicked out to sweep the elf’s feet. The elf jumped nimbly in the air and then came in with a kick of his own. Jonathan leapt to the side and grabbed a handful of dirt before coming back to his feet. He concealed the dirt in his left fist, waiting for the elf to approach him again.
The elf raised the wooden switch and sprinted toward him without saying a word. Jonathan reacted fast, tossing the sand with his left hand. The cloud of dirt struck the elf’s eyes and Jonathan moved in to the side, pummeling the elf in the left side of the face twice before yanking the switch from his hand and whacking him across the neck and back with it. The blinded elf shrieked and yelped, furiously rubbing his eyes and trying to get away from Jonathan.
A kick to the stomach sent the elf to the ground and Jonathan struck him once more with the switch for good measure. A quick glance ensured the female elf was still sitting quietly where she had been moments ago, and then Jonathan bolted out for the opening. He threw the flap open and took one step outside, just catching a taste of freedom, before another elf appeared before him. Before Jonathan could react, the elf knife-handed the side of his neck, kicked in his knee, and then elbowed him in the throat. The poor boy was on the ground, coughing and sputtering in less than a second.
A pair of hands wrapped around his arms and dragged him back into the tent, dropping him on the pillow he had woken upon.
“You have spirit,” the she elf said. “I knew I liked you.”
Jonathan struggled to push himself up from the ground and glared at her. “When I can breathe again, I will kill you.”
The elf giggled and held a hand to her mouth. “Come now, let’s not confuse courage with idiocy. I am Elantra, the mistress of house Eofuld. I command magic that you could not possibly comprehend. You may have earned your spot as master slave, but you will never pose a threat to me.”
“Master slave?” Jonathan echoed.
Elantra nodded and pointed to the cowering elf who was still rubbing his eyes. Only then did Jonathan notice that the elf was dressed in the same clothes as he was. He looked up to the two who had carried him inside, and saw they were wearing clothes much like Elantra’s.
“These are my younger brothers, Herin and Desin. They also serve as my bodyguards.” Elantra rose to her feet and pointed to the other slave. “Miran has served well as my master slave for more than thirty years. It shall be exciting to see what a new master slave shall bring to my servants. Perhaps you can infuse them with your vigor, and help them serve more fervently.” Elantra smiled and stepped closer to him.
Herin and Desin reached down and pulled Jonathan up to a standing position.
“As master slave, you may address me, but it is still not wise to do it too often, for I have the power of life and death over you.”
“I will run,” Jonathan promised. “First chance I get, I will run and there is nothing you can do about it.”
Elantra turned her head and narrowed her green eyes on him. “Because you are human, I will overlook the outburst, for now. I will give you a demonstration, and then you will understand.”
Jonathan grit his teeth.
The two brothers released their grips and backed away from him.
“Go on, try to run,” Elantra said. She gestured toward the opening with his right hand and smiled.
Jonathan figured it was a trap of some sort, so he remained in place.
“Don’t want to obey? Pity. So then I will demonstrate my power in another way.”
Elantra placed her hands upon her shapely hips and narrowed her eyes on him. “Slave, fetch me my wine.”
Jonathan’s feet turned and moved without him trying to move. He grunted and protested, but his body would not listen to him. It was obeying her command. He walked over to a slender table that had been behind the flap before the other slave had opened it, and he found a decanter of wine and also a silver goblet. He brought them both to Elantra and then bowed before her.
“Slave, fill it half way,” Elantra said.
Jonathan did as instructed, despite the fact that in his mind he was trying to regain control of his body. He then offered the wine to Elantra. She smiled and took it from him, watching him with delighted eyes as she drank deeply from the goblet. When she finished, she handed him back the goblet and then tilted her head. Inside Jonathan’s mind, the order to put the wine away was heard loud and clear even though Elantra’s lips didn’t move. His body was quick to do as it was told, and then he returned to stand before her.
Elantra laughed wickedly and then Jonathan felt he had control over his body back. He looked around and brought his hands up to his face.
“You see?” Elantra said. “There is nothing you can do except I allow it.”
Jonathan looked over to the other slave and then back to Elantra.
“You are wondering about him?” Elantra asked. “He will still be my slave, but you will be in charge now. It is our custom, when a new slave is captured he may challenge the master slave. If successful, then the challenger becomes the master slave, and receives along with that responsibility all the pleasures and privileges that entails.”
“What pleasures does a slave have?” Jonathan asked before his mind could stop his tongue. He closed his eyes as soon as the words left his mouth, but there was no taking them back now. He didn’t dare open his eyes until he heard Elantra laughing.
“As master slave, you shall accompany me to all festivals. Other slaves mus
t remain in the tent, tending to their stations. Also, you shall have some power to direct the tasks of other slaves, though you will need to learn the order of my house first. And finally, the master slave has a special responsibility to his mistress.”
Jonathan frowned as she stepped in closer to him. “You see, it is customary for the master slave to help the mistress form new slaves. Only from the loins of the strongest slave shall new slaves be born. As you have defeated the previous master slave, you have proven that your offspring shall be superior to his. In this manner, I can ensure that my slaves are the strongest and best possible.”
Jonathan balked at the idea. Was she insane? Was this perhaps some strange nightmare? Maybe he was still trapped in the magic bubble somewhere and needed to wake up. He reached down and pinched his arm, twisting a fold of skin just to be sure.
Elantra raised her brow at him. “Curious response,” she said.
“I won’t do that with you,” Jonathan said.
Elantra scoffed and shook her head. “With me?” A laugh escaped her mouth and she had to cover her face with her left hand. “You really know nothing about our customs do you?” She shook her head and dismissed her brothers. “No, I am speaking of joining with the female slaves to form new slaves. I could not possibly be joined with a slave, elf or otherwise. Such a thing would be beneath my station.” She turned and reached for her leather glove, which was several feet away upon a small box next to the wooden perch.
Jonathan felt his body compelled to retrieve the glove. He did so and then found himself gently sliding it over her arm and tying the laces.
“Come, we shall go to the arena. I suspect there will be exciting fights tonight.”
Jonathan stood rigid as the hawk leapt onto Elantra’s arm.
For the first time since he woke, he realized he had no idea where any of the others were.
Now that Elantra spoke of the arena, his heart was gripped with fear.
As they walked out from the tent and made their way toward the large building in the center of the city, Jonathan remained one pace behind and two paces to the left of Elantra. Where before he might have admired her form, now he loathed her with every fiber of his being. If not for the two brothers walking behind him, he might have tried to strangle her before her magic ended him, but he knew he wouldn’t ever get close to her with them right there. He had no choice but to follow her for now.