by Jack Bessie
“How closely do you resemble her?” he asked, and waited. “Well?” he demanded, poking her gently in the ribs with his index finger.
“I look almost exactly like she did when she was my age! She is a stunningly beautiful Elvin Princess! Just more mature!” Amein grumbled.
“I’m not all that turned on by older women!” Rasten assured her.
“You lie, nicely, but it’s still a lie! One sniff of her femaleness, and you’d want her as much as you do me!”
“Oh. Well, let’s hope she’s not inclined to take her panties off then!” he laughed. Seeing Amein’s pouty appearance, he touched her. “What’s wrong?”
Amein sighed, shaking her head.
“I hope there’s nothing she holds against me...she could punish me beyond all things, should she decide to play with you, and make me do without!”
“I’d suggest we don’t tell her what you fear!”
“Good luck with that! She is almost as gifted at reading others as father was. All of my siblings learned that the hard way!”
“Including you?”
“Especially me! I got caught merely omitting the truth once, about what I had been doing, instead of practicing my war skills. She didn’t take me to father, she paddled my bare elf bottom in public...in the great hall’s audience room, in front of a few hundred witnesses! Then made me walk all the way to my room with my red butt bare and able to be viewed by any and all!”
“Did you learn your lesson?
“Assuredly. The elf girl with the sore butt was much wiser than the one whose bottom had not felt the paddle! Much wiser! But just as naughty!” she confessed, and giggled.
7
“Princess...how many should we choose to accompany you on this...attack?” the tribal elder Hacarim wondered, obviously unsure what to call such a thing as Shocara had planned.
“How many of the terranak riders might we send forth? I want no one who is weak or injured! We need our best fighters for this!” Shocara insisted.
“I count forty who are here and worthy, and the same might come from our near villages. We could double that, if we have the Kerini join us...we can have them here by tomorrow night! If we could wait a few days...we could have even more...” he added, falling silent in the face of Shocara’s scowl.
“You know I won’t wait! We have no idea when Amein might return! I have no desire to face her in her own stronghold, where she might command a thousand warriors against us! If we lose our advantage of surprise, we will likely lose our lives as well!” she hissed at the man, her features showing her displeasure at being doubted. “Summon the Kerini.”
“I’m sure you’d hate to encounter her!” the man foolishly joked. He found the point of Shocara’s sword touching his throat almost instantly.
“You are a fool! I would welcome the chance to cross blades with her, alone, to see which of us might die! What I don’t want is to see our people die for nothing, overwhelmed by an endless foe!” she replied coldly.
“Forgive me Princess, for sounding foolish! But this is quite different from what we know!”
“I just hope the Elvin view it with as much shock and alarm as some of you do!” she sighed.
They act like scared girls, about to be stripped and had the first time on their wedding night! she thought, this idea appealing to her sense of cynical amusement. I never considered how much we are creatures of habit, doing things as they have always been done! No wonder the Elvin can so easily stop us! Perhaps we have found a better way... she thought, a trace of a smile touching her lips. Seeing Garen, she called to him, waving for him to approach.
“Yes Princess?” he asked, showing neither timidity nor fear. The old Eridian had long since established his devotion to Shocara, watching over her and assisting her since she was a young girl. His love for her, though never spoken, showed in his eyes, giving her a solid and dependable anchor that no one else matched.
“Have the scouts returned?”
“Only a bit ago...they are tired and hungry, but have much to report!”
“Good!” she whispered, and turned away, to seek them out. She found the three weary ones sitting with food and drink, sprawled comfortably on the ground. Seeing her, they would have leaped up, except for a curt gesture.
“Stay...what did you find?” she asked, her impatience easy to note. The three exchanged glances, before one spoke.
“We flew long at night, and in the breaking dawn, found a place to hide and shelter in the vast forest glades. The terranaks were loath to be lead under the trees, but slowly obeyed us. We saw an occasional patrol during the day, but mostly there was little movement...at least for the first day!”
“Were these lone riders or more?”
“Mostly we saw two together each time,” the man sighed.
“Wise. They are no fools, to risk a lone one to attack, and have no one to give warning!” Shocara declared.
“True. The second day, we waited and went off, hoping to arrive at dusk. We nearly turned back, when we arrived before the light had faded enough to offer better cover! Flying out over the lake aided us, allowing the light to become weaker, so when we turned in towards the city, we were much less visible.”
“Did you see others aloft?”
“Several, and we saw three large groups returning from afar! Should we arrive timely, we would appear like any other of their own!”
“Could you make out any landmarks, which might guide us?”
“The large gathering of buildings that sits on the highest ground...that is most visible! It is at the heart of the city! There are many places near that where there are open places. We should be able to land our warriors easily on any of a dozen spots, and do much harm. Our retreat in the dark will be harder, if we have no moonlight to guide us!”
“But the Elvin would be hard pressed to follow us...that may be quite worthy!” Shocara suggested. “We can guide by the stars, if it is clear!”
“True,” the man suggested, hesitant. “Princess...we will face another foe, when we arrive, that is most...unexpected...”
“And what might such be?” Shocara wondered, puzzled.
The warrior, Atrucin, shrugged. “It will be the overwhelming sight of the city. It is staggering in its size...and as the sunlight faded, the entire place became aglow with some sorcery...there are lights everywhere! We will not be fighting in darkness, once we land!” Shocara stood, transfixed, this possibility a new and dangerous factor she had not considered; none of her people had ever seen the Elvin city that they wished to attack.
“Then speed will be our only hope. We would be vulnerable to attack from the sky, should the Elvin be able to mount up!”
“Clearly, we must be able to land, attack any whom we can find, and then withdraw quickly! Will we have any sorcery to aide us?”
“My father says so. I must go to see him, and discover what he has wrought in that regard,” Shocara sighed. Her displeasure was impossible to overlook.
Shocara was more than loath to speak with her father. Karturic had been the main tribal leader of the Eridians nearly twenty five years, before being dislodged from his terranon, and falling a long distance into the forest canopy. The dense branches had broken his fall, but the remaining drop, hitting large branches and then the ground had broken him. He was thought dead when found, but had refused to die, the tribal healer setting his broken bones as well as he was capable. In spite of terrible wounds and injuries, he had survived, crippled, hunched and disfigured. His malevolence and hatred of the Elvin had been increased many times over, and his desire to inflict evil and destruction on them knew no bounds. That he was now dependant on others, especially his daughter, since all of his sons had fallen, only made his spite more intense.
He seldom set foot outside his small cabin, wherein he labored to concoct ever more wicked sorcery. Shocara was forced to visit him in this place, it reeking of fumes and nasty smells, from his many experiments. Worse, he kept the sun banished, working by smoky lamps
.
Karturic barely glanced up when she entered. They exchanged no words of greeting, no sign or declaration of affection.
“What?” he wheezed, all he said.
“I am tired of having our people die for nothing!” she declared forcefully.
“Then perhaps you should find the will to lead them better?” he suggested harshly.
“Perhaps I have, but it requires different thinking, which you may be loath to accept!”
“Explain yourself!” Katuric invited, sounding ill disposed towards hearing her. Shocara gave him a quick summary of their observations and thoughts, eager to be free of his loathsome space.
“You have no idea if such will work, nor do I. What do the tribal leaders say?”
“They seem inclined to at least try such tactics. All are tired of the endless failure. Our people hunger for victory, for success. The large attacks have never succeeded; perhaps we may give them enough small cuts, such that they will bleed to death!”
“Perhaps. Or you may simply go off to die, overwhelmed and outnumbered. Are you eager to risk that?”
“I am tired of the endless fighting that brings no victory. Perhaps we are doomed to belong to the Elvin, and merely delay our fate! I am sick of loss, of watching our men bleed and die for what seems a fool’s errand. We must find a better way, or simply give up: I can not bear to see another woman cry over her husband or son’s body...” Shocara sighed.
“We will never surrender to the damned Elvin!” Katuric shrieked. Shocara merely stared at him.
“You would condemn our best to a meaningless end, because of your hatred and bitterness? The war ended for you when you fell to your destruction! Now others labor to carry it forward, not to victory but likely to futility! I shall try a new way...perhaps I will die in the doing of it, and that will not be unwelcome!” she loudly insisted. “Do you have any sorcery that might aid us against our enemy?” she demanded, unwilling to bicker endlessly with Karturic.
“I have found a powerful one, which might destroy large portions of an Elvin place!”
“How...can we carry them on the back of a Terronak?”
“Likely...where do you intend to attack?”
“Our spies tell us the Princess is far away...I would attack their clan home, Alarinad!” Shocara declared. Katuric’s head snapped up, and he stood staring.
“You are likely dooming yourself. Yet perhaps you are not mad...if you don’t die, you will be thought quite insightful and wise! How many will you take?
“Atrucin can muster eighty fliers...and I have summoned the Kerini to join us. I would leave tomorrow. Can you prepare for that...I wish to do as much damage as possible to the Elvin!”
“I will do what I can. Send me helpers!” he demanded, and waved her away.
Shocara turned and went out, saying no more. The clean air was almost too much to breathe, when she was outside. She went looking for the Leaders, finding them under a shade tree, drawing tactics in the dirt.
“We shall leave tomorrow...Katuric will prepare some sorcery for us to use against the Elvin. Get your men well prepared. We must travel light and swift, both on the approach, and as we depart. Any man who can’t escape will be left behind! We can’t risk losing everyone, trying to save a laggard! Make sure they all know that!”
“Princess? Can we take any of the women...Koharila especially is worthy, and wields a sword as well as any!”
“I have no objection. Be honest with her about the price of failure...no captive Eridian has ever returned from the Elvin, whether they are slaves or dead!” The Tribal leaders cringed, being reminded of this, something known, but not pleasant to mention.
“As you wish, Princess,” he mumbled.
Shocara went to find Garen, finding him checking the harness for her Terranon.
“Dear Garen...I shall leave tomorrow, to take the war to the Elvin. Have everything ready!”
“Of course, Princess! Where do you go?” he wondered, curious.
“To attack Alarinad, the Elvin’s most special place! I hope to give them a rude surprise!” Garen nodded, but turned away. Shocara reached out, turning his face to her; his eyes were wet, and he seemed quite sad.
“Do not fear for me, dear friend. I will come home...or they will sing songs of my deeds!” she laughed. She gave him a kiss on his cheek, and went out, as he stood, watching.
I hope they don’t sing of your folly! he thought sadly, and turned back to his chore.
8
Rasten had dreaded entering an airport with neither money nor, in Amein’s case, even a single piece of documentation. That she seemed as unconcerned as could be only made him worry more.
“Stop being concerned! You’ll see how easy it is!” she had insisted, and when they approached the ticket counter, he got his first hint that she was correct.
“May I help you?” The woman ticket agent asked. Rasten, who stood close behind Amein, nodded, while Amein busied herself with the small pouch she carried. It seemed much like a very small purse.
“Two tickets to London please...we made reservations on line,” he added, handing the woman a piece of paper, which he had printed off from his computer.
“Of course, may I...” she got no further, as Amein caught her eye, while making a series of small gestures, and then blew a tint bit of sparkling dust into the woman’s face.
“What...” was all she said, staring at Amein, who leaned close and whispered. The woman was soon busy, saying nothing else, and soon handed them their boarding passes.
“Thank you!” Rasten said, still amazed.
“Have a nice honeymoon!” the woman called to them as they stepped away, and when the next person in line stepped up, she looked oddly puzzled a moment, before shaking her head, and saying, “May I help you?” She had no memory of even seeing Rasten or Amein.
“Honeymoon?” Rasten asked quietly. Amein leaned close.
“It is always best to suggest something normal, and not something odd or impossible. The mind adjusts itself to support and maintain the enchantment, if it seems plausible. To do something harder, takes more effort and power. I have no desire to wear myself out more than necessary; we will likely have to fight our way through more than one gate!” she whispered.
Their trip through security was also aided by Amein’s sorcery. Her pouch, which was holding several unobvious and suspicious materials, would have set off alarms, had it been examined. Instead, the agents could not even register her or Rasten, nor what they might be carrying, and they slipped through unmolested, not even removing their shoes. A couple of other flyers noted this, but had no desire to make a fuss and risk being cavity searched for their trouble.
They had a short wait at the gate, before being called for boarding, and while sitting, looking at the tickets, he sighed. “Why didn’t we ask for first class seats?!” he moaned. Amein looked at him like he was being slow. “Don’t want to make it more likely to be scrutinized?”
“Wonderful!” she sighed.
They handled the gate agents much the same as they had the ticket agent, and were ushered on with no delay.
“You want the window seat?” he asked, stowing his backpack in the overhead bin.
“Are you afraid of heights?” Amein asked.
“No...I like being high, where I can see a long distance. Why?”
“You take it. I’m used to such views, and you will be too in time. It takes a bit to get used to riding on a terranak at height, with only a lap belt to keep you from plunging to your death!” she whispered and giggled at his sudden frown. When they were settled, he leaned close, where they could whisper.
“How high can one of them fly?”
“Higher than you can stay conscious! It can be dangerous, if you are careless! The terranak can breath at much greater heights than we can.”
“How fast can one fly?”
“They can cover many days march in a half day. When one dives from on high, they tuck their wings, and fall like a stone. You can
not even breathe against the rushing wind! It is most exciting!” she declared, her face alive with an intense glow.
“How many times did you pee yourself before you got used to that?” he asked. Amein rolled her eyes.
“Many more than a warrior princess might like to admit! But Elf girls aren’t the only ones with wet pants at first!” she declared smugly.
“Wonderful! Remind me to take a leak before I get on one of them!” Rasten sighed, as Amein giggled.
The flight was uneventful, even though it was long. Both of them slept a large part of it, being still worn from their previous night’s play, and knowing that they would likely get little sleep once they arrived.
“How are we getting to Stonehenge?” Rasten wondered as the walked through the Heathrow airport.
“We’ll take a cab...one will be happy to drive us there!” she suggested, nibbling her lip and raising her brows slyly. “We can stay at the closest town...there’s a nice inn there. If we have to, we can walk to the Gate; it only a couple of...” she hesitated, trying to choose a measure that made sense.
“Miles...no...they use kilometers here. You have no idea what those are, do you?” Rasten wondered.
“Of course not. We can walk it in less than an hour; I did when I arrived!”
They picked a cabbie driving a newer car, and when Rasten asked if he’d drive them to Amesbury, the man laughed and shook his head, not so inclined. Amein elbowed Rasten aside, and leaned in the cabbie’s open passenger window, smiling cutely.
“Please, not even for a cute girl?” she asked, before blowing a bit of her enchantment dust at the unsuspecting driver.
They were soon on their way, the driver thrilled to go for such a nice long drive, telling them all about the passing sights as he drove. Amein looked at Rasten, giving him a smug, but guilty grin, and as he shook his head, she merely shrugged.
“One does what is needful at times!” she whispered.
When they reached Amesbury, Amein was more than prepared to use her sorcery on the innkeeper, but Rasten stopped her.