by Steven Drake
Darien turned to see Miri’s head down. She stared abjectly at the ground. Garok tried to comfort her, but she seemed completely broken at the moment. It infuriated him.
Darien seethed, his mind filled with the heat of rage. She’s done nothing. She only wants to live peacefully, but still they pursue her. The Shades pursued my mother because she possessed power. I did not have the strength to protect her then, but now I have the power to protect Mirisa, and I will, even if I have to kill every single one, down to the last man.
Zitane paced furiously, obviously thinking, straining to come up with some plan of action. At least he had the sense not to try to run, as even the most foolish of commanders would have sent scouts to surround the city at some distance. There was no escape now. The red-haired elf paced furiously back and forth, staring at the ground while the riders continued their rather leisurely approach. Suddenly, he stopped, and scanned Darien head to toe. His eyes lit up, and he turned over to Garok. “Garok, you saw Darien fight those thieves. Could he fight my brother?”
“Hmmm, yes, I suppose. Why would Zandrek fight Darien? You’re the one he wants.”
“No, Miri is the one he wants. If he can’t have her, then there’s no point in him even being here. We just have to make sure that Darien is the one person standing between them.”
“You mean to use the vows of consecration?” Garok frowned and groaned. “He won’t believe you. He’ll suspect a trap.”
“Of course, he won’t believe me, but that’s not what’s important,” Zitane said. “Most of the royal guard and the militias are against Zandrek, or at least they were when I left. They only follow him for our father’s sake. If I can embarrass him, challenge his honor, it will be difficult to refuse. Yes, this could work.”
“No. Zitane, no. I won’t agree to that. It’s not fair.” Miri looked hurt, about to cry. Darien still didn’t quite understand what was being discussed, but the look on her face hurt him. He had not realized how quickly he had become accustomed to her smiling face. Seeing her like this riled him in some primal, dark way that was both disturbing and thrilling at the same time. “Brother, there has to be some other way. It’s not fair to him. This isn’t his fight.”
“I know Miri, but…”
“What are you talking about?” Darien interrupted. “They’re getting close now. What is it that you’re planning and how does it involve me? If there’s some way out of this that doesn’t end in a handful of hunters and woodsman fighting a hundred or more soldiers, we should take it, whatever it is. Even with Garok and myself, our odds are even at best.” Miri looked at him then with a look of fear and concern that hit him hard. Whatever Zitane’s idea was, she did not like it.
Zitane, however, seized the moment and started hurriedly explaining. “Well, er, our people have a ceremony, called the vows of consecration. When two people are engaged to be married, they say the vows, and then a witness validates the vows, and then they’re considered engaged, as it were.”
“How does that help us?” Darien turned over his shoulder to see the horsemen plodding slowly along, within just a few hundred yards now.
“Well, Zandrek has always wanted to marry my sister, but she doesn’t. That’s why we fled in the first place. The king approved Zandrek’s marriage to Mirisa, but they never took those vows.”
“Hold a moment,” Kellan interrupted. “You mean the King can order her to marry against her will?”
“Not exactly, no, but the problem is that Zandrek is a prince. Elves are not like humans. Most of us fall in love only once, if at all. Zandrek is a prince, the crown prince, and he has declared his undying love. Miri is expected to acquiesce for the good of the kingdom, even if she doesn’t feel the same. It’s worse because as royalty, there are expectations of loyalty to the kingdom above personal feelings. If she refuses, the King can imprison her for refusing. That’s why Zandrek came here, to take her into custody. He’s going to claim that she is obligated to follow the King’s wishes, for the good of the kingdom.” Darien’s temper continued smoldering, growing to an inferno. What a pathetic excuse, he thought, just another example of how those in power simply did whatever they wanted, then called it justice. Darien had already made up his mind even as Zitane continued to speak. “The only way to legally refuse the marriage is for us to claim she was already engaged to someone else. Now, our law says that a vow of consecration is sacred, and even the King can’t void it. The only way to invalidate it is for one of the parties to, well, to die.”
“Ahh...” Darien rubbed his chin thoughtfully. This plan had a chance to work. “So instead of having to fight a hundred, I could challenge his honor, force him into single combat. Clever.”
“Darien, no, please don’t.” The concern on Miri’s face had just grown even more urgent than before. “Zandrek is so much better than me. You can’t beat him.”
“Remember what I told you about augmentation magic, Mirisa?” Darien said. “That magic won’t be visible to anyone besides other mages. You haven’t really seen me fight to the best of my abilities.”
“Still, you’re hurt and I… I couldn’t…”
“Please, Miri.” Darien actually leaned down and grabbed her hands, then held them in his. She trembled. Darien felt as though he could actually feel her fear seeping into him with every subtle vibration in her hand, and then he felt a white-hot rage against a world that seemed so cruel and unfair. This was why he had sought power in the first place, so he would never again be powerless. A new determination rose up in him, and he stared straight into Mirisa’s soft violet shaded eyes. “I have no intention of letting them take you against your will, not while I can still stand. I would fight the entire force if I had to, and trust me when I tell you I have already considered how to do just that.” Miri’s hands stopped trembling, and her look changed from concern to wonder. Does she understand? “If we can taunt your brother into accepting single combat, no one has to die today.”
Miri remained perfectly still, and looked down at her hands. Darien felt a strange warmth in his hands, similar to what he felt when Miri healed him, but subtler and somehow deeper. It grew stronger, and he felt a strange sense of being opened, vulnerable, as though some sort of invisible boundary around him had fallen, and he could no longer be entirely sure where his own magical energy ended and where Miri’s began. The sudden intimacy of it frightened him and it evaporated like a thin fog under a hot sun. When he recovered from the shock, her face had changed. She was calm, serene, and looking with wonder. Had she felt it as well?
“Alright,” she finally declared in a quiet resigned voice. “Promise you won’t die.”
“I promise,” Darien said. He turned around to see the horsemen had now drawn to within a hundred yards. One man rode at the front, an impossibly tall and imposing figure riding a white horse.
“I would have fought for you, too,” Kellan added.
“And you would have died swiftly,” Garok rumbled.
“You’re a human, anyway,” Zitane added. “Humans can’t form love bonds the same way elves do. You would never be allowed to take the vow of consecration. Zandrek would never accept that, and more importantly, neither would any of our people. This plan rests on our ability to insult Zandrek’s pride in front of his soldiers, make him look foolish, make him show his true colors. Let me do the talking.” Zitane might be a coward, but at least he’s clever enough to seize an opportunity, Darien mused. Perhaps he isn’t as useless as he appears.
They waited as the soldiers closed the last hundred yards of ground between them. They moved at a leisurely pace, and it took the better part of five minutes for the group to make their appearance. When they had drawn within ten yards, the elf in the lead raised a hand to signal a halt, and then he slowly rode up to the group. Zitane now stood out front, but Zandrek seemed to deliberately ignore his brother. He looked over each of them in turn, his eyes lingering long on Mirisa.
“I am Zandrek, Crown Prince of Catarina.” Zandrek turned his horse s
lightly sideways and looked the group over again. “Who is in charge here?”
“That would be me,” Kellan piped up. “This is the free city of Exire. Travelers are welcome, but bandits and raiders are not. I cannot help but notice you bring with you quite a large group, and well-armed. I must ask what your purpose here is. If you come in peace, then be welcome. If not, then declare your intentions and terms.”
Zandrek smiled, a poised and practiced expression of polite confidence, but laced with arrogance and contempt. “I have come to retrieve something of mine, something that was unlawfully stolen from me by my younger brother. I have been informed that you shelter him in this place. My retinue is simply to ensure my safety, and the safe return of that which belongs to me. I wish to have no quarrel with you, human.”
“I’m right here, Zandrek. You can speak to me,” Zitane added.
“Ah, brother, I did not see you down there.” Zandrek turned and nodded to his brother. “But then you are so small, and you do so excel at running and hiding.” A series of chuckles rose from the soldiers behind Zandrek, but not all, Darien noticed. One particularly fierce looking blond-haired woman on a coal black horse, slightly in front of the others, an officer of some rank, remained stolid. Most of the soldiers in her vicinity shared her dour expression.
“I wish to waste no more time with you. I know not why you came here, nor what you hoped to accomplish. You are no more threat to me than the wind. However, when you chose to abduct my beloved Mirisa, you committed an unforgivable treason against me, against our father, and against our kingdom. This injustice cannot stand.”
“I did not abduct her, as you well know. You are the one trying to abduct her. My sister refused you and you can’t stand it. We finally grew tired of your endless fixation, so we left you to rot of your covetous need to possess her.”
“You go too far, brother. I offer Mirisa the singular honor of my hand in marriage, and you call me a villain. You accuse me of dishonor, while you spirit my beloved away into the uncivilized wilderness and mingle with barbarians. I will have my satisfaction, and I will end your life this day.” Zandrek drew his sword and aimed it squarely at his brother. Zitane, to his considerable credit, did not so much as flinch.
“Not even going to get off your horse?” Zitane taunted. “Are you quite sure you’ll be able to reach me all the way up there. Perhaps I’ll simply scurry into a mouse hole to foil your schemes.” Some of the woodsmen chuckled at this, and the fierce elf woman almost imperceptibly lifted the corners of her mouth.
Then Zandrek did get down off his horse, quick as a flash, and again aimed the sword at Zitane’s throat. Kellan took a step toward Zandrek, but Zitane held up a hand.
“I’m not going to fight you, brother.” Zitane shook his head and sighed. “We both know how that would end, and I’m not going to give you the satisfaction. No, I’m just going to stand here. If you’re going to kill me, you’re going to have to murder me in cold blood, in front of all these people, so then they’ll know exactly what you are.” Darien raised an eyebrow. It was an impressive speech, and displayed a courage of conviction that Darien had not guessed existed in the little elf. He might not be able to beat his brother in combat, but at that moment, he showed himself the stronger, by facing death without fear, a test Darien himself had passed only while bloodied and beaten on the floor of the dungeon in Shade Castle.
Neither man moved. Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, Zandrek lowered his blade. “Fine then, a coward to the end,” the blond-haired elf prince scoffed. “Go crawl into whatever hole you wish, but never set foot again in Catarina, and I’ll be taking Mirisa back.”
“No, you won’t.”
“What did you say?”
“You won’t take her, because she isn’t yours to take, and never will be. She doesn’t belong to you, Zandrek. She isn’t your property. She’s out of your reach forever.” Zandrek raised his sword again. Zitane still did not move. “Go ahead,” Zitane taunted mercilessly, “but after you’re done, you’ll have to kill him too.” Zitane pointed at Darien. “Mirisa has taken the vow of consecration. She has given herself to him, of her own free will.”
“You lying scum.” Zandrek lowered his sword, but moved in and shoved his brother, and the smaller elf stumbled back, but did not fall. “You would never. She would never. I refuse to accept this, you deceitful snake. I know you lie. Admit your deceit, or I will order my soldiers to confiscate every scrap of meat, every loaf of bread, and every grain of rice in this disgusting backwater and leave the vermin to starve.” Zitane remained silent and still, as a hush fell over the scene. The wind whipping up on the slopes of the Leaning Mountain echoed down, but not a voice was heard. “Fine then, I’ll beat the confession out of you, you miserable cur.” Zandrek turned the blade in his hand so as to strike Zitane with the flat. He swung violently, but the blow never fell. Within the time it took for Zandrek to draw back his sword, Darien had positioned himself to block. The sharp clang of metal striking metal broke the silence and echoed weakly back.
“These people are under my protection,” Darien said flatly, coldly, in a voice that he had not had occasion to use often, a cold, empty, emotionless monotone, the voice of the Executioner, aimed at Zandrek. “Leave in peace, while you are able.”
Zandrek turned a wrathful glare at Darien. “And who are you, to order the Prince of Catarina?”
“My name is of no importance. You do not know me, and I do not wish to know you,” Darien declared as he moved between the two brothers. “What is important that you know is this. I am the one who killed the thieves you sent to abduct the Lady Mirisa from her bed.”
“You, by yourself, that’s…” Zandrek paused and took a step back, not concealing the sudden worry that lined his face.
“Impossible, you were about to say,” Darien added coldly. “Obviously not, as you can see. I remain alive, and their ashes blow in the winds.” Darien took a step forward, rousing the magical energy in him and focusing it, becoming the object of terrible fear that he had once been, becoming the Executioner. He slowly stalked forward while Zandrek gave ground. “You should be more careful of how you choose your friends, Prince Zandrek. The man you ordered to kidnap Lady Mirisa would knife you in the back if it suited him, or if he was ordered to do so. Whatever they have promised you, I guarantee you will never see it. You are nothing but a tool to them. They will use you until you break, and then dispose of you when you cease to be useful.” Zandrek finally held his ground, standing with his hand on the saddle of his horse, ready to bolt.
“Hold there,” a stern female voice spoke. The fierce blond-haired woman dismounted, walked forward and addressed Darien. “You accuse the prince of sending thieves to abduct Princess Mirisa. That is a serious charge. What proof have you of such an accusation?”
“We have the trinkets your men carried,” Darien answered, and Zitane threw one of them on the ground. The fierce woman frowned.
“That is not proof,” Zandrek charged. “My brother seeks to discredit me. He might have gotten those at any time. He probably brought them with him when he ran.”
“Then hear my words,” Norin strode forward. Darien hadn’t noticed the young man arrive, but was immediately grateful for his return. “I came here with them. They took me prisoner, put spells on my mind, made me to steal for them, kill for them. The elves that carried those trinkets, they hired us to find Mirisa. On my life, I swear it.” Norin nodded to Darien, who returned the gesture.
The blond woman looked toward Mirisa, who nodded meekly. Then the elf commander’s face turned sour. “Magic,” she spat out the word. “You would risk your soul for power, break our most sacred law.”
“They lie.” Zandrek’s voice rose and quavered. “My brother has always opposed me, you know this. He incites rebellion. He seeks the throne himself.”
“From here?” Darien smiled wryly. “With an army of hunters and woodsmen? Really, you should think about what you say before you say it, crown prince of fools.”
>
“Damn you,” Zandrek hissed as a fresh round of chuckles rose from Kellan’s men. “Who are you? You’re no woodsman. You’re an elf, but I’ve never seen you before. You’re not from Catarina. Where did you come from?”
“I see no reason to tell you,” Darien said flatly as he raised his sword to the ready. “All you need to know is that I stand between you and your objective. I will make this simple. Either face me, or leave in peace. Choose your course carefully. You know who you sent to capture Mirisa, and you know I killed them. You should understand that you cannot win. The wise course would be to retreat, but I doubt you have the prudence for that.”
“What’s to stop me from ordering my soldiers to fall upon you?”
“Coward!” Zitane said. “You would throw their lives away, send good men and women to die for your lust? You never change. You only fight when you know you can win.”
“Mirisa is mine. I love her. I have always loved her, from the moment I set eyes on her, I knew that I had to have her, that my life would not be complete without her. She deserves nothing less than to sit at my side as queen.” Darien stared stonily at the handsome but disgustingly vain face of the elf prince. He really does think he’s in love with her, Darien thought, but all he wants is to have her, to own her like a crown or a castle, a prop to make himself a more believable king. He loves only himself. Then Darien thought of something Lucca had said to him weeks ago, about Rana’s love, and how he had not understood it. He had mostly ignored it as sentimental nonsense, but suddenly he felt he understood what she had meant.
“I know little of love, but I know this. Love is not possession. It is the willingness to sacrifice oneself for another.” Darien glared at Zandrek. He felt filled with power. “If you really loved her, you would let her make her own choice, no matter how much it hurt you. You would accept any pain to ensure her happiness. You would lay down your life so that she could live. You are nothing but a weak, vain, preening idiot, and not worthy of Mirisa’s affections.”