by Shea, K. M.
Arion nodded as they drew closer to the gates. He paused, his hand on the hilt of his sword when distant shouts echoed behind them. He glanced over his shoulder and jabbed a finger at Tari. “I’m going to check it out. Go to the gates, stand there, and wait there until I come back. Understood?”
“Yes.”
Tari watched Arion jog back in the direction they had just come from before she finished climbing the hill to the gold gates.
There were four soldiers posted—two on either side of the shut gates. The two on the palace side slipped through a side door into the city as the remaining two guards shifted, unsheathing their weapons.
“Oh, I am not coming through. Waiting,” Tari awkwardly said in human as she set her basket down.
“We know,” a guard said, extending his sword so the tip was aimed at Tari’s throat.
Tari stupidly stared for a moment before twisting around—intending to run away.
“Not so fast!” one of the guards grunted, lunging forward. He tackled her with a flying leap, landing on her legs when they crashed to the cobblestone street.
Tari tried to kick her legs free, but one of the other (fake, probably) soldiers was already on her, kneeing her between the shoulders to keep her pinned to the ground.
“Ah-ah-ah, lady elf. Not so fast, you would not want to break your precious vows, would you?” the (fake) soldier said, leering over Tari before shoving a cloth gag in her mouth.
Tari stilled for a moment. Humans don’t know much about Evening Stars. How on the Continent did he find out about our vows?
The (fake) soldiers tied Tari’s arms behind her back, taking care to also tie her feet together, before standing and slinging her over the shoulder of the biggest man among them. Clearly whoever sent them had learned from the previous attack.
Tari squirmed and raged behind her gag as she was carried into an alleyway. They turned corner after corner, but they were traveling in the direction of clanging swords and shouting. Tari fumed and wriggled as they moved into a small road that cut through dumpy houses.
Tari could see people, normal people not would be assassins, standing in the shadows; but when they met her eyes they turned and hurried away.
No one would help her.
Tari was set on the ground. A soldier steadied her as another of her kidnappers held a sword at the back of her neck.
Tari screamed—still muffled—when she saw Arion in the middle of the road, viciously fighting with half a dozen men. Although he was outnumbered Arion was clearly getting the best of them.
“Captain Arion,” the kidnapper with the sword at Tari’s neck shouted. “If you value the life of your bond partner you will stop fighting.”
Arion spun, parrying a blow to his right shoulder before he caught sight of Tari. He stilled and stared at her.
Tari yanked her head forward to shout at Arion, but the soldier steadying her grabbed her braided hair and pulled it taut, making her scalp prickle.
“What will it be captain? Cease fighting, or give up your partner?” the kidnapper smirked.
Tari, choked on the rag when Arion dropped his sword. It hit the crumbling road with a metallic clang.
Tari’s eyes widened and she yelled against the gag. Arion’s dark eyes were fastened on Tari as he braced himself for a blow from a mace aimed at his shoulder.
Tari’s thoughts raced as a captor pulled on her braid again.
No, no, no!
Tari inhaled deeply before folding her knees and crashing to the ground. The sword at her neck sliced through the braid of her hair like butter. Tari’s knees stung when she fell, jarring her horribly, but Tari had accomplished her goal.
The kidnapper holding her now severed braid used to have a small knife on his belt. It was now in Tari’s possession.
Tari expertly twirled the knife in her grip, her hands still behind her back, sawing through the rope before the soldiers could react. She lunged forward, planting her hands on the ground—the knife tucked beneath one of her palms—and lifted her legs up before whipping them around. The maneuver pulled the kidnappers’ legs out from under them, and they crashed to the ground. Tari cut through the rope on her ankles and rolled forward.
Free, Tari bounded across the road and leaped to a depilated counter stationed in front of an abandoned store. She jumped from the counter to the peak of a window sill and swung on top of the building.
The kidnappers lumbered after her, but by the time they reached the roof Tari was already half a block down, nimbly springing from roof to roof.
“Are you sure you want to follow?” Tari hollered to them in human. “These roofs aren’t steady. I’m an elf, I’m light,” she said, jumping up and down to illustrate her point. “But you guys…you’re fat.”
As if her words were magic the roof caved in. All four men shouted as they plummeted to the ground. A cloud of dust puffed up from the building, and they coughed and groaned from in the store.
“Wilford will be so proud to know I properly slighted someone,” Tari murmured before shifting her gaze to Arion.
The second Tari had freed herself the limber captain dodged the mace blow and unsheathed his second sword, a short sword attached to his back and hidden by his cloak. He was blowing his whistle, making quick work of the men attacking him.
Attacker one was kicked in the chest and slammed into a building. Attacker two and three smashed into each other when Arion slid forward to avoid them. An elbow to the nose took out attacker four, attacker five was victim to a hilt in the back of the neck, and the man with the mace went down with a brutal head butt.
Tari climbed off her perch and trotted to Arion’s side as the captain continued to blow his whistle. He eyed Tari up and down, his gaze lingering on her cut hair. “Any injuries?” he asked, pausing his blowing for a moment.
Tari shook her head and rubbed her arms as she shivered in the dusk air. “None. Although I want my basket back.”
Arion snorted and went back to blowing his whistle.
Later that evening Tari sat on the settee in her sitting room, combing her hair as Arion finished speaking with several guards.
Evlawyn had just finished trimming Tari’s hair, evening it out so it was not so chopped looking. It felt curiously short and moved at the smallest gesture Tari made. The back was a great deal shorter than the front—which was barely long enough to touch her shoulders. Tari was a little shocked as previously her hair fell roughly to her elbow, but at least it would be faster to style now.
The last of the Honor Guards shut the door, leaving Tari and Arion alone for the first time since the attack. (Already they had been interviewed by both kings, the Guard Commander, and a slew of army soldiers.)
“I am puzzled,” Tari announced as Arion sat next to Tari on the settee, the cushion sighing beneath him.
“Oh?”
“Indeed, who do we know hates both of us this much?” Tari asked, gesturing broadly with her comb.
Arion tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. “Is Evlawyn here?”
“No. I told her to leave for the evening.”
Arion nodded before replying. “Crown Prince Benjimir.”
Tari snapped her neck and eyed the captain.
“Have you not noticed the unease he displays towards us?” Arion asked.
Tari was quiet for a moment and stared at the tea table in front of them. “I have,” she finally admitted. “I was hoping I was being paranoid. What has raised your suspicions?”
“His conduct with my transfer. It was no accident that King Celrin recommended we play our charade in front of the king and the prince. The Crown Prince said no one approached him about my transfer. That does not mean he was not the one who approached the commander about the transfer. What of you?”
Tari stared at the tea table some more, deep in thought. “He had you transferred the day after he realized I could speak Calnoric…and he doesn’t like it when I talk to My Crown Princess Yvrea.”
“Do you think he i
s the culprit behind the attacks?” Arion asked.
Tari shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Neither do I,” Arion said, drawing Tari’s attention.
“Why not?”
“Attempting to separate us is a very different idea than kidnapping an elf and beating a captain. For starters if it was discovered he risks his status. King Petyrr would not hesitate to exile him and crown his second eldest son as his heir. Although I’m not certain what merit there is in separating us.”
“His dislike of us has confused me as well,” Tari admitted. “But I can’t think of anyone else who would try to injure you and kidnap me. Surely not Queen Luciee?”
“No. She has even more to risk than Crown Prince Benjimir and cares less than he does. She is the social harpy and runs the courts on a leash. However, she always treats the elves with respect and honor. I do not think it to be in her character to harm you. Whoever it was has a crafty mind and a deep pocket. Hiring four men to impersonate gate guards is no small feat.”
“Who else could it be? It must be someone who knows elves, and they must be unhappy about something. What if it’s—,” Tari cut herself off as she stared at the far wall of her room. No. It couldn’t be. The idea is preposterous. It goes against everything in our nature…but don’t I go against our nature as well?
“Did you think of someone?” Arion asked.
“Perhaps,” Tari said, her voice soft. “But I cannot prove it yet.”
“You will tell me when you can?”
“I will… but Arion, this will be something I will take care of if my suspicion is correct. Do you understand?”
Arion pressed his lips together in a slight frown. “I don’t. But I will accept it,” he said before standing. “Do you want me to sleep in here tonight?”
Tari set her comb on the tea table before standing as well. “No, I don’t think it’s necessary. Thank you for the offer though,” she smiled, briefly hugging herself.
Arion raised a hand, which for once was not covered by a glove, to Tari’s hair. “I am sorry about your hair,” he quietly said, combing his hand through it.
Tari smiled. “It will grow back. Besides, it’s still long enough to use my new flower hair ornament.”
Arion did not return the smile as he tugged slightly on Tari’s much shortened hair. “I am glad you were not hurt,” he said.
Tari took a step closer to Arion so his arm did not have to stretch to reach her. “I am glad they didn’t hurt you. You were the one they almost hit with the mace.”
“Not really,” Arion said, sliding his free hand around Tari’s waist. “I knew you would escape,” he said, tilting his head lower.
Tari’s heart beat in her throat. “Oh? You have such faith in me?”
“Absolutely,” Arion said before lowering the remaining distance and kissing Tari.
In spite of the great amount of time Arion gave her to pull away, Tari was still ill prepared for it.
It was warm and very….careful. There was no hesitation, and Arion certainly pressed against her lips with pressure, but the whole thing felt cautious.
Arion stopped playing with Tari’s hair and instead held the back of her neck, gently rubbing her jawbone with his thumb. It seemed to last forever, but Tari wasn’t sure as she was surprised beyond words and actions. Arion started to pull away, ending the kiss, and Tari tensed for the second before he eased his lips off hers.
Meek. His kiss felt meek. Not in the human sense of the word—not timid. More in the elvish sense, power under control. Because right before Arion pulled back, Tari got the same feeling she once did as a child when she played in a tiny stream while a huge, powerful damn held back a flood of water behind her.
As Tari opened her eyes her heart resumed pounding, and she realized how much trouble she was in. First of all, Arion was obviously oblivious to elvish customs. Secondly, she could feel her emotions and feelings leaking out of her like a sieve.
There was little she could do to amend the first issue—especially now, the mortification!—but she could certainly try to control the second.
Tari kept her face a blank mask as she wrestled her renegade feelings into submission—attempting to ooze calmness. When she finally felt like she could look at him without her world twisting, Tari glanced at Arion, who was still holding her waist and neck.
Arion’s eyebrows were furrowed, the corners of his lips were pulled down, and his eyes swirled like rainclouds in a downpour.
The captain was frowning, and Tari’s heart broke just a little.
“Sleep well,” Arion said, taking a step back and removing his hands from Tari. He turned on his heels and swirled out of the room, his cape billowing behind him, before Tari could utter a response.
The door clicked shut and Tari blinked back a dusting of tears. “Mutt,” she muttered.
Chapter 8
Not a Lush
“You are looking very commanding this morning, My Lady,” Evlawyn carefully said as she poured a cup of breakfast tea for the irate Tari.
Tari was sitting primly on the settee, her back ramrod straight, her eyes thin slits of anger, her every gesture performed with angry elegance.
“That uncouth soldier boy is far too informal,” Tari snarled.
She spent most of the night containing her feelings or talking with King Celrin about the attack. Now that enough time had passed, Tari reasoned Arion would have no idea that her raging emotions were a result of last night.
“What did the captain do?” Evlawyn asked. “When I took my leave last night everything was fine.”
Tari clicked her mouth shut and bought herself time by sipping her tea.
It was true that the elves were in many ways more affectionate that humans. Linking arms, hugging, and general contact were a baseboard in the elvish culture. Generally, elves were considered the more touchy-feely race. But Tari knew—as Arion had once grumbled—that her culture also consisted of beings that were more innocent than humans.
Kissing was a perfect example. Before last night Tari had been vaguely aware that humans had different rules in regard to that display of affection. At least, they must, because in elvish culture kissing on the lips was not even thought of until one was engaged. It was viewed as an intimate expression that would be reserved for your one life partner.
Obviously this was not so for the humans.
Tari finally had an inkling of what Arion was referring to by ruined reputation, because she knew this kiss was not something she could tell Evlawyn.
“He, just. He…,” Tari stumbled for a moment. “He happened to—he was ill mannered!”
Evlawyn heaved her eyes to the ceiling. “My Lady, we have already established that Captain Arion is not the brightest in terms of social rules. I thought you agreed to overlook that particular flaw of his.”
“It still annoys me,” Tari stewed over her tea, taking a sip before gesturing for Evlawyn to sit with her.
Evlawyn shook her head in amusement. “You will forgive him,” she predicted as she sat down.
“By the heavens, I hope not,” Tari said before shifting her weight and placing her tea cup on the tea tray. “Evlawyn, would you mind delivering two letters to Seer Ringali for me?”
“Certainly, My Lady,” Evlawyn said, bowing her head.
“Evlawyn, this is not a task as simple as it sounds,” Tari said, pulling the letters out from underneath the settee cushion. “No one can know you are giving him this,” she said, passing them over.
Evlawyn took it, her eyes widening at the seal stamped on the back. “That’s Our King Celrin’s—,” she gaped, cutting herself off.
“It is. The letter should allow Seer Ringali access to Haven’s dungeon,” Tari grimly said. “The men from the first assault against me are still imprisoned, and the humans have proved unable to remove information from them. Seer Ringali will provide a proper incentive to make them speak.”
Evlawyn swallowed sharply. “If Our King Celrin is involve
d then…,” she trailed off, unwilling to speak.
“Yes,” Tari acknowledged. “The one who sent out these attacks is an elf. That is why it is crucial we act now.”
Evlawyn stood and bowed—a gesture markedly more powerful than her usual curtsey. “Seer Ringali shall receive the letters, My Lady. And no one will know who sent them.”
“I was surprised to read your suspicions,” Seer Ringali said as he and Tari walked together, arms linked, in the gardens.
“And?” Tari asked.
Seer Ringali glanced behind them, keeping his body language carefree as he replied. “You are correct. The prisoners spilled their souls about it before I was able to expound on the fragility of the human spine.”
Tari sighed deeply and shut her eyes in pain. “I did not think he was capable of such a thing.”
“We were foolish to bind him in the first place. He was an Evening Star candidate once, did you know that? In the end we passed over him because he did not display enough loyalty to humans,” Seer Ringali said, using a wax paper parasol to push aside a bush branch. “You will challenge him?”
Tari’s eyes popped open as her anger returned. “I will. He will be taught a lesson.”
Seer Ringali nodded. “I am, naturally, one of your seconds. We are ornamental in your case but still necessary. You will let me know when you challenge him?”
“I will,” Tari agreed as the popped out at the end of Rosewood Park.
“You will tell your wolf man,” Seer Ringali ordered more than said. “He deserves to be informed of the situation. He deserves to observe the duel.”
Tari glanced at her teacher. “If he observes he’ll know the whole truth of the Evening Stars.”
Seer Ringali waggled his umbrella before giving the cherry blossom pattern on it a disgusted sneer. “We Evening Stars have never hid. Ever. The humans have merely refrained from asking about us. I think it would be for the better if they knew.”
Tari slightly bowed her head as the pair stopped.
“I must be off. I am due to call on King Celrin and further discuss this issue,” Seer Ringali said, adjusting the wide sleeves of his robes.