The Elements of Love

by S. D. Grady

  "Let's go,” she said.

  * * * *

  The door appeared much the same as every other in the hall. Light gleamed from underneath. The difference was in the lack of grunts, screams and thumps coming from within.

  "Are you sure this is it?” Grelig asked.

  "He always takes a girl after Sunset Devotion. They come here."

  Grelig studied Shayla for a moment. “Were you one of them?"

  She shook her head, bitterness coloring her response. “He wouldn't sully himself with one such as me."

  "So, how do you know?"

  "Chastine would tell me. The odd thing is she never remembered being in the room with him, only going to the room. She thinks he drugs the girls."

  "Right,” Grelig said as he straightened his shoulders.

  He pulled Shayla close in an overly familiar manner, slumped sideways and opened the door.

  "Come on then, love. I think you just need a little poke!” he growled in a drunken slur.

  Shayla shoved at Grelig's arms, emitting small noises of protest.

  The pair stopped in the midst of the room. One of the slave girls lay asleep on the bare cot in the corner. No fire glowed in the brazier. No blanket warmed her chilled flesh.

  Grelig and Shayla turned about.

  "Where's the General?” Shayla wondered.

  Grelig stared at a spot on the floor under his feet. Light flickered from around the edges of a trap door. Kneeling, he pulled at the ring and raised up the door. He pulled his dagger from his hip. “Go get the lamp, sweet. Get ready to toss it down when I call."

  A sickly sweet smell permeated the room, dulling Shayla's senses. She sneezed. “What do you need it for? There's light."

  Grelig climbed down the rough ladder into the cellar below. This left Shayla no choice but to follow his directions.

  It was much worse, Grelig realized, than anything he had conceived. Like an illustration of a forbidden temple shown to the students at the Conclave, General Erlic stood in a warded trine.

  The wards, crystal obelisks each two feet tall, stood at the points of the triangle on the floor, glimmering with the charged power. Light from an infernal source glowed, protecting the General from any intruders. When the correct words were cast, the wards connected, creating the circle of protection.

  Where a member of the Elemental Body would create a Ward of Protection utilizing the Four Elements of Power, only a person delving into the dark arts of the Underworld would attempt to force the balancing powers of the Earth into a triad.

  The glowing force ripped at Grelig's heart.

  General Erlic stood over a small fire, in the middle of the wards. Thick, green smoke filled the air, fogging Grelig's vision and his senses.

  "The child cannot be left alive, Erlic,” a disembodied voice echoed in the stone chamber.

  Grelig's shoulders sagged. The Trine had been initiated so that Erlic could communicate with illicit mages. The Elemental Body would need to be notified.

  "I realize, my lord,” Erlic moaned, “But he and the mother vanished. My infantry has not been able to find any sign of them."

  "Unacceptable!” A feminine voice, cold and hard demanded. “The child is the threat. He will be much too powerful. We cannot take a chance."

  "What is it that you want of me? I do not have the powers of you or the boy!” Erlic complained.

  "Results, you idiot.” A second male voice joined in. “If you cannot keep your sector under control, we will have to remove you from command ... permanently."

  Erlic blanched.

  Grelig watched the general's mouth silently search for a correct response to the unseen Powers. Who were the ones behind Erlic's reign of terror? The presence of a trine was indicative of an evil power.

  The Elements were balanced among the Four quarters. Each level of government and society, both in the Land of the Sun and the Moon, reflected that balance, but a trine spoke of a basic rejection of every precept Grelig's world was based upon.

  "Remember, general,” the first firm voice said, “Fear and hatred. Those are what you need to keep alive in the minds of the villagers. They must fear the child more than they hate him."

  "That will guarantee his death,” the woman agreed.

  "But first you have to find them!” the third voice taunted.

  The General spun in frustration. He stopped as soon as he spied Grelig.

  "My lady, my lords,” Erlic began. “We have an uninvited guest."

  Grelig summoned his shield, a talent he had not called upon since his days at the Conclave.

  The ward shattered with force; the absent mages destroying the crystal obelisks. Shards flew in all directions, bouncing off Grelig's shield.

  The General did not wait for the chaos to settle before drawing his short sword and stalking towards the intruder.

  Grelig could see when the moment of recognition reached the General's pale, irate eyes.

  "The blacksmith ... you shouldn't have come looking for fun with my slaves. At least not without asking...” His blade glinted with bloody purpose.

  Grelig drew a deep breath and called the Air. The fire leapt up behind Erlic. The General spun about in surprise. He looked from Grelig back to the fire.

  "You're one of them, aren't you?” he derided.

  "No, I'm not, Erlic. I'm here to maintain the balance of the Earth, under the protection of the Sun and the Moon. I'm not here to create fear and hatred. Down that path is chaos. Down that path is war."

  Erlic nodded, his eyes reflected orange. “Yes, and with war comes power. Power that any mere mortal can grasp, if he's of a mind to..."

  The men circled each other. Grelig kept a careful eye on the longer blade. He knew he had the reach on the general, but he wasn't a trained soldier. “But you're not under the orders of mere mortals. You are a pawn, Erlic. You know that,” Grelig taunted.

  "The Trine have promised me wealth. Land! Servants!"

  "They promised you death, Erlic."

  It was then that Grelig saw it. A towering glimmer of insanity reflected in Erlic's eyes.

  The general shook his head. “No! They need me!"

  Grelig parried the general's thrust with his dagger. With his mass, he tossed Erlic across the room. Again, he called the Air. The fire leapt higher. The ceiling was nothing but wooden beams and flooring black with pitch. If the fire would only grow enough...

  The general charged again. Raising his sword high, he brought it down in an arc, smacking Grelig's dagger wielding hand aside. The wind slackened for a moment as Grelig followed his hand and spun away from Erlic's flashing blade. Grelig switched hands and brought his dagger around to stab at Erlic's side. The general deflected the blow with a well-aimed elbow before attempting to slash at Grelig's neck. The blacksmith ducked, his dagger catching at the General's tunic, before he danced out of the reach of Erlic's blade.

  "Grelig?” Shayla's voice tugged at his concentration.

  "Sweet! Grab the mattress and toss it down with the lantern."

  Erlic paused, confused, but only for a moment, before he charged forward. Blade sang against blade in a flurry of ripostes and parries. Both men were left heaving.

  Grelig realized the general had only been toying with him before. Pressed hard to create a defense with his small blade, his hand grasped his dagger, still stinging from where the General's blade impacted the crossbar. Instinctively he began to focus on the fire, watching the climbing flames and recalling what it felt like to draw enough power to call a windstorm...

  Shayla roughly shook the girl awake. “Come! You're free! Get going!"

  Once the stunned girl ran out the door in a confusion of hope and fear, Shayla spent no time in dragging the mattress to the trap door. Shoving it down, she listened at the door for signs of Grelig.

  All that she heard were the grunts of men and clanging of steel in battle. Without a thought, she crawled down the ladder into the fray.

  The wind howled in a cyclone about the combatants.
Shayla took in the stone chamber, puzzled by the various etchings on the walls. All she did know was Grelig's arm was lagging in managing to repel Erlic's advances.

  A fire burned in a stone pit in the middle of the floor. Grelig's wind had the flames nearly licking at the low ceiling. The pitch in the beams smoked.

  Understanding what Grelig wished to do, but not why, Shayla hauled the mattress to the fire and threw it on. Then she looked at the lamp in her hand. It was a punched lamp to be used either with an expensive candle or...

  She opened the door, peered in at the flannel wick and smiled. Not a candle! The lamp was powered by rendered fat. She scooped out the lump of lard and tossed it on top of the smoking mattress. The fat soon began to melt.

  Black, choking smoke filled the chamber. The beams had now caught, and flame crawled across the ceiling while the winds remained unabated.

  "Grelig! Let's go!” Shayla cried from the bottom rung of the ladder.

  At the sound of Shayla's voice, Erlic's head snapped around. His blade swung with it.

  "You little whore!” Bloodlust glittered across his blade and eyes.

  Shayla quailed at the sight of her nemesis charging across the smoke-filled room. She screamed.

  Erlic fell in a silent heap at her feet, blood dripping from his mouth and his eyes glazing over. The hilt of Grelig's blade protruded from his back.

  The heat of the inferno roared to a more intense degree. Grelig and Shayla stared at each other for one moment before escaping up the ladder.

  Anarchy reigned in the barracks: half-dressed and naked men ran, equally scantily clad slaves cried, and the two infiltrators burst out the doors into the night. The barracks was quickly engulfed and soon alarms sounded throughout the village. Sparks might fly from the solid roof of the barracks and catch the thatched roofs of cottages. Nobody would sleep tonight.

  But a great many would disappear.

  Shayla tugged at Grelig's arm as she pointed to several female forms running off towards the foothills. She smiled bitterly when she realized that a new master would be appointed in the morning; one who would be missing quite a few slaves.

  "Come on, sweet. We have to pack.” Grelig interrupted her thoughts. They turned as one towards the dark bulk of the smithy at the edge of the village. Neither looked back.

  Epilogue

  Shayla trotted after Grelig, the unfamiliar feeling of a tunic and breeches causing her to pull at the unusual clothing. “Slow down!” she called

  Grelig ceased his ground-eating strides but did not turn. Shayla caught up even as she shifted the bundle tied to her back. The last time she had fled the village, she had taken only the ripped clothes on her back. Now the blanket, pots and food promised a future. What Grelig intended that future to be, she didn't know.

  "Where are we going?"

  Grelig stood, unmoving. The amount of goods tied to his back was monstrous. Shayla was certain it was enough to live on for an entire season. He stepped forward.

  Confused, but unwilling to give up the love and companionship of the man who had given her freedom, she followed his brutal pace through the morning and afternoon. She thought the stream the road followed looked familiar, though she couldn't be certain. Shayla had been unconscious much of the time spent near the caves, and they returned to the village under the light of the moon. Still ... the rocks and path tugged at her memory.

  The happy gurgle of the water echoed off the limestone canyon, reminding Shayla of passion. Mountains climbed higher on either side of the travelers. They passed nobody on the road, which wasn't necessarily odd, considering that all the local villagers and the infantry had spent the previous night fighting a vicious fire.

  Just when shadow engulfed the path, Grelig stopped. He lit a lamp and held it high as he searched the etched walls of the canyon.

  Shayla dropped to her heels, gasping for breath. “Grelig?"

  "Hm?” came his distracted reply.

  "Do you know where we are going?"

  "Not ... precisely."

  Shayla shivered in the cool dark.

  "Here! It's here!” Grelig pointed to a particularly deep etching at his eye level.

  Shayla walked over to him and stretched up on her toes. “What?” The sets of lines looked no more or less random then the rest of the strata lines around them.

  "It's the Sign of the Valley! Arlynn was right."

  Grelig began a tactile search in a vertical line beneath his etchings. At knee level, he stopped and pushed. Shayla watched a pebble sized knob disappear into the wall.

  A deep grinding and a breath of air drew her attention to the left.

  "Who is Arlynn?"

  Grelig took Shayla's hand, drew it to his lips and kissed it. His eyes twinkled. “She was the lady I was helping, who helped you ... never mind. You'll meet her soon enough.” He stepped towards the source of the grinding and lifted his lamp high. A narrow, low tunnel stretched before them. “I know where we can go and be safe."

  Shayla took a deep breath, closed her eyes and followed.

  After a short walk through the tunnel, Grelig and Shayla began to climb a set of stairs carved into the mountain. Sunlight shined bright overhead. Just when Shayla thought her legs would not step up one more, Grelig stopped. She looked up.

  An old shepherd leaned against his crook.

  Grelig bowed to the man, then held his right hand up and said something.

  Shayla wondered for just a minute, until she felt the familiar caress of Grelig's wind tug at her hair.

  The old man smiled, placed his crook on the ground and gestured Grelig forward.

  They began the descent into a valley full of scrub growth, boulders and sand. It was barren of life, except for a few goats.

  "Where are we?"

  "In the Valley of Shadow. We'll be safe here."

  "Safe? Because an old man watches a stair?"

  Grelig stopped. “Because this valley is protected by the Elemental Body. The army cannot find it. They don't have the sight."

  There were so many questions, Shayla realized. “But what about the people who were giving General Erlic his orders?"

  He grimaced. “I'm hoping that Arlynn will be able to help me with that. I haven't finished fixing that yet."

  A small shot of jealousy stabbed at Shayla. “And what of me? I can't help?"

  He laughed and pulled her near. “Ah, my sweet, I could not think of going anywhere without you.” His lips nuzzled her ear, and he drew a kiss from her lips. “Besides, you are the one who worked within the army compound for a year. I rather expect you have unexplored knowledge hidden within that determined head of yours."

  "So, you mean to keep me?” Shayla's voice faltered.

  "No, my sweet. I won't keep you. But I will ask you...” he pulled her hips tight against his. “Will you be my lady? Be my partner. Be my friend. Just be with me."

  Shayla's heart skipped a beat. The choices lay before her. Her grin deepened, “Your partner, huh?"

  He nodded.

  "You'd allow me to come and go?"

  Again a nod.

  "Why?"

  "Because I trust you."

  Shayla paused a moment before twining her arms about Grelig's neck. “Then I give myself into your keeping, my lord."

  "That's all I'll ever wish for, my love."

  About the Author

  S.D. Grady is a romantic, having always believed that Happily Ever After really does happen. She married her college sweetheart, raised two cats and dedicates herself to bringing fantastic and passionate stories to her readers. Always on the lookout for new ideas for stories, she reads avidly, writes constantly and pays homage to the NASCAR gods weekly.

  Visit her on the web at: sonyadgrady.com

  Keep updated with news on upcoming releases at:

  groups.yahoo.com/group/SDGrady-RomanticFantasyAuthor/

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