by Jack Bessie
“Trousers dried out?” Narietin asked good naturedly.
“Weren’t wet to begin with! Do you always do stuff that crazy!”
“Of course! It’s quite effective for cobbling up the Eridian’s plans! What...you think that’s too risky? Just be glad there were no Elvin bowmen on the ground...now that would be wicked!” Kimarien laughed.
“It’s just too bad we didn’t have dozen of our people...we could have taken the lot of them!” Narietin suggested.
“Are you...really? Elvin can fight against those odds and win?”
“Well of course! The Eridians are good fighters, but they aren’t all that disciplined...too much pride to take orders, and be treated like a servant! They all know how to fight, but tend to get in each other’s way at times. If one of us is told to stand in one place, and not move, they will take an arrow rather than break and fail! That cohesiveness is astoundingly effective against a disorganized force!”
“And the Elvin will follow that sort of order, even if it seems suicidal?” Rasten wondered.
“It helps to have faith that your leaders won’t send you to die for nothing, and we certainly do! No commander would wish to suffer the guilt of losing his warriors for nothing!” Narietin agreed. Rasten had no idea if this was reasonable or some perverse Elvin habit, but shrugged, intending to hear Amein’s thoughts at a later date.
The next day they continued on, and made another incursion over Eridian territory. They saw nothing unusual and merely tallied the numbers of occupied dwellings, working to systematically get a count on their enemies. It was on their return to Elvin lands that they spotted a large mass of Eridian flyers, flying straight towards the nearest Eridian village. Being outnumbered at least twenty to one, they chose to give them wide berth, more eager to reach their destination, to see if their fears were warranted.
Their first hint that they were wise to be concerned became visible, when the noted much smoke rising from where the village should lie. They came in cautiously, swinging in a downward spiral, and finally landed, seeing no sign of movement or life. They hobbled their mounts, and moved toward the village cautiously, swords drawn. The street was littered with bodies, mostly Elvin men, but a few women and children could be seen. The dwellings had been burnt, or what could be set afire, since most were constructed of stone.
“Well, we know where the Eridians were headed...the ones we saw yesterday!” Rasten sighed. They soon had several children, who had run into the woods to escape, and who had been watching emerge, having determined that it was Elvin and not Eridians who were present. All looked utterly terrified, and distraught.
The oldest was a boy of maybe twelve, and Narietin motioned him to come near.
“What can you tell us? This was the Eridians?”
The boy nodded, looking likely to cry more. “They took my mother, and most of the young women!”
“How many?” Rasten wondered. The young elf shrugged.
“Maybe three dozen! Almost every flyer took one. They killed the men, and took some of the older boys, and burned the houses!”
“How long were they here?” Kimarien asked.
“Maybe an hour? Maybe two...I got these to run with me to the forest...my sister and brother wouldn’t...leave!”
“Are these all that escaped?”
“I think...”
A survey turned up no others and a count showed them that nearly eighty had been killed. Kimarien flew off to the two nearest villages, to get more help, so that the dozen surviving children might be moved, and the dead dealt with. Rasten had forced himself to stay focused, the sight of the dead Elvin turning his stomach, and tempting him to a level of rage he had not thought possible. That innocent Elvin, living peacefully, having nothing to do with the wars or fighting, might be slaughtered, or taken prisoner, was more than he could bear. Amein’s words of caution, regarding the need to resist the urge for revenge seemed especially hard in the face of this.
They worked feverishly to get everything done, not arriving at another village with the children until well after dark. The Elvin here were waiting, and handily scooped up the orphans, taking them home with no hesitation or complaint; they would unselfishly care for them until proper relatives were located, and their young refugees placed with close kin. Such was the way the Elvin addressed such a crisis.
Rasten finally got a chance to sit and relax at the local inn, waiting for something to eat. The Elvin females seemed somber and reserved, a dark pall well settled over everyone. The people all understood that if the neighboring village might be attacked and sacked so horridly, they were likely within range of the Eridians also. No one could remember such an event.
“The Eridinas were once far away...they have moved steadily closer over the years, but never made any attempt to attack us,” the innkeeper suggested, coming to chat with them a moment. “We always wished to leave the lands between our villages empty, but apparently the Eridians decided to do otherwise!”
Narietin nodded. “They have grown bolder, needing new lands to farm to support a growing population. Were we not at war, it would perhaps matter little. There is much good land on this world...we occupy not a third of it!” Rasten thought this interesting.
“On my birth world, many wars were fought over resources...growing civilizations over ran others, desperate for a way to feed their people, or to have metals and other valuable things. But somehow I gather that’s not been true of the Eridians and Elvin?”
“I think they attack us from spite...and much desire for revenge. It’s stupid, but every death makes them more eager for vengeance, which only causes more to die! Perhaps they will be happy when the last of them is killed?!” Kimarien suggested.
“There are times like this when I would be happy to help them get to that place! Still, we know first hand how foolish such vengeance is.” Narietin sighed.
“I find it hard not to despise them at the moment. Amein warned me of such,” Rasten admitted.
The innkeeper had wandered away, but soon returned.
“What might be done to defend us better?” he asked simply.
“We will have no choice but to put more warriors in all the vulnerable villages, and to watch more closely. That may well be what the Eridians wish for, hoping we might be less well prepared somewhere else. Still, unless we abandon places like this, we would have little choice,” Narietin suggested. Rasten was staring into his cup of wine, merely listening, struggling with his own feelings. He looked up suddenly, and grinned.
“They have attacked a half dozen far flung places since the attack on Alarinad. They will wish to attack a much larger target, close in somewhere. Shocara has chosen to wage a guerilla war!” he exclaimed, sure this was so.
“What’s this word...guerilla?” Kimarien wondered puzzled. This caused Rasten to explain several things, ending with the theory of warfare.
“Large armies or masses of warriors are difficult and unwieldy to maneuver quickly. Small bands, highly mobile, can attack swiftly, and then disappear, sparing themselves casualties, and inflicting much damage to their enemy. Worse, they demoralize their enemy, who sit, terrified, waiting for an attack that may well not come. Our terranaks are perfect weapons, for bringing warriors to bear, and then spiriting them away quickly!”
The Elvin were fascinated by this. “How do you counter such a thing?”
“By doing the same thing to your enemy! You have to make him just as afraid, just as unsure. We outnumber the Eridians greatly, and could drive them crazy, should we be inclined to carry the war to them. It is hard for anyone to go off to fight, if they are worried that there will be nothing there when they return!” Rasten suggested.
“You need to have a serious chat with the Princess!” Kimarien advised him.
“Oh, he will, especially if she ever finds out about that cute innkeeper’s daughter!” Narietin teased quietly.
38
Rasten had been aware that the Elvin possessed means to communicate from place to pla
ce, distance having no meaning. What the Elvin and others termed sorecery, was to Rasten’s eye something between a technology and magic. Having no understanding how it or for that matter any Elvin devices worked, he found calling it sorcery somehow apt. He went with Narietin to the village center, to the small meeting house that served a variety of functions. One of them was to hold the device that let them communicate with distant places, especially the capital of Alarinad.
Rasten was not sure whether the device reminded him more of a crystal ball, or some other thing. Narietin stepped up to it, and touched it strongly, making a series of light gestures on the smooth curved surface. In only a moment, what seemed to be a three dimensional image coalesced around them, of another space, where two Elvin seemed to be observing them.
“Greetings! I am Narietin and Lord Rasten is here with me...we have urgent news for the Princess!” he began, before giving his location, and being greeted in turn by the others. He was soon explaining what had occurred in the adjacent village to the shocked listeners.
When he was finished, being like most Elvin capable of being brief and precise when necessary, one of the distant Elvin asked what else he wished conveyed to Amein.
“The other villages in the area are as vulnerable to attack as this first one. A suitable number of warriors should be placed here, to discourage any additional attacks!”
“Lord Rasten, might you have any other insights?” the one on duty in Alarinad asked him, likely to be polite.
“Tell her that is likely what they wish, but that there is no choice. I have other thoughts I will share with her in person, as to how the Eridians might be dealt with!” They exchanged goodbyes, and the image faded away, when Narietin again touched the crystal device.
Rasten was thrilled that none of the local Elvin females were inclined to try to talk themselves into his bed. His mood was dark and distressed, the images of the dead Elvin still sharp and unforgettable. His companions, who had seen much horror were not untouched, the dead women and children touching them in ways that dead fellow warriors normally did not. Rasten noted their quietness, and thought to inquire as to it’s nature.
Kinarien shrugged. “It is one thing to see warriors fall, quite another to see innocent ones slaughtered. I have known nothing such as this in my time! The Eridians are fond of trying to capture Elvin women, prizing them greatly, but have never just killed everyone in a village like this!”
“Perhaps they are growing more desperate, and willing to do more terrible things, hopping foolishly to make the Elvin give ground! On my birth world, there were many times when some group decided to attack non-combatants, to try and overwhelm their enemy with terror or refugees!”
“They play with fire, if they do such, the Elvin capable of annihilating them easily!” Kimarien suggested bitterly.
“Aren’t the Eridians composed of many different groups...tribes or such?” Rasten wondered.
“Yes. They have five major tribes, or clans. They co-operate at times, in attacking us, but mostly act separately, even attacking each other, to steal land, women or precious things. The only unity they have is in hating us!” Narietin suggested wryly.
“But doesn’t Shocara rule over them?”
“Maybe...when they wish to listen to her! Her father ruled over all of them many years, before he was crippled, and they follow her likely out of fear...it is rumored that none can stand against her blade.” Rasten stared into space a time, sipping his wine.
“I somehow suspect this was the doing of someone other than her...from what I’ve heard, she seems too shrewd to have done something this likely to provoke the Elvin. Her attack on Alarinad was sly and brilliant, not foolish! Only a fool runs in and pokes a dangerous animal with a stick, no matter how much they might hate it or wish to kill it!”
“True, but if the Eridians were smart, they wouldn’t be attacking us at all! They could gain so much from peace!”
“Has anyone suggested that to them recently?” Rasten wondered. He was surprised at the startled looks on his companions faces. Finally Narietin chuckled.
“I imagine there would be few willing to carry such an offer to the Eridians, considering how they treat captives!”
“That might be true. However, we need to capture more Eridians, and find out better what they really want! Are they fighting from spite, for vengeance, or something else...something we don’t even recognize?” Rasten wondered.
They soon tired, and retired, eager to get up early the next morning, and head off.
The next day’s flight was uneventful, no other flyers visible. They flew high, but tracked along the line between Elvin lands and Eridian, spying on those they might find far below. They spotted no masses of Eridian flyers, which seemed a good thing, and as evening approached, they neared the village where they had stopped on their way from Alarinad. Rastin was less than eager for this, worried that his over eager young bedmate might be inclined for a repeat visit.
She was flirty and warm, but seemed less overtly pushy than she had before. Rasten thought he might be safe, when she made no effort to follow him upstairs, but had barely gotten into bed when the door opened, and someone slipped in. Sighing, much annoyed, he turned on the light as he felt the bed move. He was shocked, but not because Helienia was present; another slightly older seeming elf was sitting, eyeing him and looking quite eager and excited.
“Who are you?!” he demanded.
“I am Helienia’s mother! May I spend the night with you, and play?” she asked, breathless. Rasten frowned, suspecting he knew exactly what she was interested in.
“What is your name?”
“Amiteirnia! Please?” she begged.
“Will you promise not to allow yourself to get pregnant...that’s what you want, isn’t it?” Rasten was delighted by how intense her blush was.
“It...it isn’t terrible! Please?”
“Amiteirnia! It is not proper for someone else to have my child before Amein does! Is that not true?” Rasten spoke quietly, touching her face gently. She sighed heavily.
“Yes...I was hoping you might not know such! Please forgive me, but I want it so much!”
“You think having my child would make you special?”
“Of course it would! Our whole family would be so thrilled and proud! If Heleinia was old enough, she would do the same! You found her acceptable?”
“I was surprised at how skilled she is...she was quite delightful to be with!” he confessed, feeling guilty admitting such to the young one’s mother.
“Wonderful! I would not wish her to disappoint you or any other! But she is still learning. I should at least like a chance to show you what I might do in your arms!”
Amiteirnia had slipped her hand between her legs and touched herself while Rasten was occupied watching her face. He suddenly had her fingers, strong with the essence of her femaleness at his nose, a moment before she leaned close to kiss him. Keeping her lips on his, she managed to get up enough to pull the sheet down, and slip astraddle of him, caressing his rapidly growing organ with her wet self. By the time she pulled her lips away, he was deep inside her.
“Don’t get pregnant!” he managed to moan, overwhelmed by his desire.
“I’ll try!” she purred vaguely, not clear what she intended, to avoid or to get pregnant.
In the morning, Rasten woke while it was still dark, hoping to slip out unnoticed. He soon gave this idea up, as Amiterinia woke and grabbed him, giggling, taking a hold of his maleness easily. Nothing would do but to have her again, before she would let him get dressed. While he was pulling up his trousers, he looked at her sternly.
“You didn’t?”
“I didn’t try!” she giggled. Rasten’s truth sense could detect no over lie, but he remained suspicious.
“Didn’t try to get pregnant or try to avoid it?” he asked. This garnered him a strong blush, and a guilty expression.
“Did you find me acceptable?” she asked, clearly eager to change the subject.
“Please...don’t be angry at me...I will be discrete, and not let any beyond my closest family know what I’ve done!”
“You think something like that can be kept quiet? Really? Elves don’t gossip?”
“We can keep a secret when it is necessary! You’ve made me a very happy elf, and my daughter too! It isn’t often that ordinary Elvin can be with someone like you!” she sighed.
Rasten laughed at this. “I don’t think of myself as all that special. You Elvin females are all amazingly naughty and delightful. It is hard to say no to any of you!”
“And we much enjoy that!” she whispered, kissing him.
He was almost to his terranon, walking with the other’s when Kimarien spoke.
“Innkeeper’s daughter?” he teased. Rasten sighed, exasperated.
“Her mother! No wonder the young one is such a naughty tart!”
“I’ve yet to find an Elvin female that isn’t so inclined!” Narietin laughed.
They flew all day, approaching Alarinad at dusk. They were surprised to have a half dozen terranaks flown by Elvin warriors greet them, intent on determining who they were. That several had bows strung and arrows ready gave them a reason to feel nervous. When they landed, Rasten made his way to the Citadel quickly, eager to find Amein. He changed his mind, when he stopped to relieve himself, noting that he still had a strong scent of Elvin female on his organ. He managed to slip upstairs and into the bath, without being observed, eager to get clean and smelling of something other than Elvin pussy. He emerged to find a couple of servants eager to help him dress, and likely any thing else he might be inclined for.
He made his way downstairs, and found Amein speaking with a dozen others. He was worried that she might ask him a leading question, which he would not wish to answer honestly, and which answer her truthsense would determine was false. Instead, she asked something that brought up other, wicked feelings.