by Sarah Hawke
“If this is His Excellency’s wish, then so be it,” he said, signaling to his other men. “Were you planning on escorting us to the city gates?”
“Yes, my lord,” she confirmed. “For your added protection, of course.”
“Of course,” Larric murmured. The other house guards set to removing the collars from the slave soldiers, and one shuffled over and did the same with mine. A few minutes later, with all the restraints safely stored inside the carriage, we continued onward to Skyfall itself. And the entire time I felt a dark, warning chill rippling down my spine.
What was Duke Darkstone up to? I couldn’t imagine a single reason why he would possibly want Master Kristoff’s slaves released. There was no obvious political angle, nor was there an obvious betrayal angle. If all he wanted was to kill us, he could have easily ordered his men to attack us on sight. But no, there must have been something else going on here. Something that none of us had prepared for…
Half an hour later, we reached Skyfall’s impressive main gate, and half an hour after that we had crossed through the city proper and were making our way up the long, winding path to the palace. Darkstone’s guards had kept the streets clean and orderly for our arrival, and several different processions greeted us along the way. It was a sufficient amount of pomp and fanfare for the arrival of a Grand Duke’s envoy, if only just. I started to wonder if perhaps Darkstone was simply trying to send us a message before we arrived…but if he was, I had no idea what it was trying to say. The only thing I did notice was the complete and total lack of visible slaves on the streets. No avenari, no orc warriors, no groll laborers…I didn’t see a single member of those races at all, in fact.
By the time we reached the palace I was anxious to the point it actually hurt. I half-expected his royal guards to pull out their crossbows and shoot us as we dismounted and made our way up the steps, but again they remained motionless. Duke Darkstone himself stood at the center of the staircase flanked by two heavily-armored guards. He was in his mid-fifties, a bit younger than Duchess Farrow but almost two decades older than Master Kristoff or Duke Arland, and his long hair and trim beard had greyed in a dignified, regal manner. He was a touch overweight but not massively so, and his near solid black outfit was complemented by a golden sash and a smattering of glimmering jewels.
“On behalf of Grand Duke Gabriel Kristoff, ruler of Glorinfel, I greet you, Your Excellency,” Larric said as he knelt on the top step. I followed his lead, as did the rest of our procession. “We have been humbled by your people’s hospitality and generosity. My name is—”
“Larric Aresi,” Darkstone interrupted in a deep, bellowing voice, “born twenty-eight years ago inside the Temple of the Triad in Balagarde. At just thirteen years of age you began your training as a Covenant Inquisitor, and your exceptional skill and devotion was noted all through the ranks of the prelacy. At eighteen you were given your first assignment to watch over the Artificers at the Infintium, and at twenty-one you were sent back to the front lines along the Sulinor border to hunt down renegade Unbound attempting to flee into vaeyn territory.”
Somehow, Larric’s expression remained neutral. “I am honored that His Excellency has taken the time to learn so much about me,” he said.
“Oh, there’s more,” Darkstone said, his lips curling in a faint smirk. “At twenty-five you were involved in the infamous ‘incident at Daragar’ where you were sent to kill a vaeyn warlock suspected of breaching the Aether and summoning demons into our realm, but somehow everything went wrong. You found out that this warlock was doing nothing of the sort; she was, in fact, fighting against a pack of demons. You decided to help her, but of course the Covenant would never tolerate one of their chosen warriors aiding a vaeyn Unbound, not even if she was actively fighting demons. You were charged with ‘Aetheric Malfeasance’ and exiled from the service of the Triad.”
I swallowed heavily and studied the side of Larric’s face. This time his expression definitely cracked. A dozen different emotions flickered across features, but the one that stuck was simple confusion—confusion which I thoroughly shared.
Darkstone chuckled at the man’s discomfort, and he waved his hand for us to rise. “Don’t worry; there’s no need to be alarmed. Everything I described puts you in my good graces. It’s no secret that there’s no love lost between myself and the Hierophant, and the fact that she was so willing to exile one of her best people only aids my cause. I’m glad that Gabriel decided to send you to speak for him.”
“I’m…pleased to hear you say that, Your Excellency,” Larric managed. “Perhaps it will allow us to reach a mutually beneficial arrangement.”
“I’m sure it will, but first there’s someone else you need to meet,” Darkstone said, his smirk morphing into a full-blown smile. “The circumstances of our negotiations have changed…just like the circumstances of his war.”
A flicker of movement from the shadows behind the duke caught my eye, and a tall, slender figure seemed to materialize from inside the darkness. Long locks of shimmering white hair spilled across her shoulders, and even though I couldn’t see her features from inside the cowl of her thick cloak, I knew her identity purely from the form-fitting purple-back armor sheathing her figure like a leather glove. It was the same armor I had seen on the battlefield the night Stormcrest had fallen; it was the same armor that had seared into my memory as vividly as if the attack had happened yesterday.
It was the armor of a vaeyn shadow knight.
“Hello again, Larric,” the woman said as she pulled back her hood. “We have much to discuss.”
To Be Continued
The Elf Slave series continues with Unchained, available in summer 2015!
If you are interested in more hardcore fantasy erotica, you may enjoy my Dark Elf Fantasies series starting with Web of the Spider Queen.
For updates about new releases, subscribe to the Sarah Hawke Fan Newsletter by sending an email to [email protected] with the subject line “Subscribe.”
Appendix
~Dramatis Personae~
The House of Kristoff
Elara: Faeyn female, avenari slave
Gabriel Kristoff: human male, Grand Duke of Glorinfel
Larric Aresi: human male, Kristoff’s bodyguard
The Imperial Court
Lucian Patravian III: human male, Emperor of the Veshari Empire
Antoine Torelius: human male, High General of the First Army
Inquisitor Jodai: human male, Covenant Inquisitor
Luriel Arland: human (Talishite) female, wife of Duke Arland.
Bolvir Farrow: human male, son of Duchess Farrow
The Imperial Grand Dukes
Kathryn Farrow: human female, Grand Duchess of Abenwreath
Darian Arland: human male, Grand Duke of Sorthaal
Aemond Darkstone: human male, Grand Duke of Korvale
Jora Zarene: human female, Grand Duchess of Rivani
Imperial Citizens
Tacitus Verne: human male, First Artificer of the Infintium
~The Imperial Provinces~
Abenwreath: Also known as “the Wreath,” Abenwreath curls around the central province of Veshar and is known for its vast fields and farms.
Glorinfel: Once the ancestral home of the near-extinct dwarves, Glorinfel is a snowy, mountainous region in northeast Calhara.
Korvale: Also known as “the Vale,” Korvale is a fiercely independent province almost completely isolated from the rest of the Empire by vast mountain ranges.
Rivani: A warm, tropical province, Rivani is the center of power for the Covenant and the most important trade center in the Empire.
Sorthaal: Once the ancestral home of the Faeyn, Sorthaal is a sprawling mass of forests and hills known for its natural beauty.
Veshar: The central province of Calhara is home to Sanctum, the imperial capital and the home of the Emperor and the Imperial Legion.
~Terms~
Artificers: the lowest caste of Bound channelers who creat
e enchanted armor and weapons for the Legion.
Bound: The vast majority of channelers in the Empire are granted their powers in a Covenant ritual that binds them to the “Godstone,” a crystal said to house the souls of the Triad. Through the stone, these “Bound” channelers are able to touch and manipulate the Aether, but the Covenant is capable of severing this connection at any time.
Calhara: The second largest continent in the world of Obsidian, Calhara is under near total control of the Veshari Empire.
Channeler: The all-purpose name for someone who has the ability to manipulate the Aether.
Covenant: The central religious organization in the Empire. They control and regulate the use of the Aether.
Faeyn: the name for the fair-skinned elves who once ruled most of Calhara. The seat of their empire was Sorthaal, now an imperial province.
Hierophant: The highest-ranking priest in the Covenant. Her power rivals that of the Emperor.
Inquisitors: The chief enforcers of the Covenant. The Inquisitors’ primary purpose is to root out and destroy Unbound.
Levinthian: The holy text of the Covenant.
Numen: A large country within Torsia known for its fine silks and berries. The Numense reject the rule of the Triad and instead worship their immortal leader known only as the “Shadow King” to outsider.
Sanctus Veshar: The founder of the Empire and conqueror of Calhara. The Covenant preaches that Veshar ascended to godhood along with his wife and his top lieutenant. Together they make up the Triad.
Sorthaal Highlands: The ancient home of the Faeyn, now an imperial province under the rule of Duke Darian Arland.
Sulinor: The home of the Vaeyn located in the far northeastern corner of Calhara.
Talisham: A country located in the scorching desert region of Torsia and ruled by a powerful theocracy under the leadership of the Pah.
Tel Bator: Legion soldiers trained to channel Aether.
Unbound: A few rare individuals are born with the ability to channel Aether without being bonded to the Godstone. They are known as Unbound, and they are hunted and executed by the Covenant whenever they are found. Elves of all ethnicities are slightly more likely than humans to possess this ability, and it is incredibly rare in the other sentient races.
Vaeyn: the name for the gray-skinned elves of Sulinor. They are among the last free elves in the entire world, and the Covenant has long branded them demon-worshippers and heretics.
About the Author
Sarah Hawke is a thirty-something aspiring spinster with two cats, a horse, and a car that can technically still get her from place to place. She loves the cold, hates the heat, and desperately watches anything made by Joss Whedon for fear it will get cancelled.
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