by Lana Axe
Hearing her name, she cried, “I’m here!” She walked slowly toward her brother. After the men had retreated, she began to feel pain in the back of her left shoulder where she had been struck with a war hammer. The pain was becoming severe, and a large purple lump was forming. As she approached Reylin, she looked at the ground and realized most of the fallen were Na’zorans. Unfortunately, a few of her elven sisters lay dead as well.
“Are you hurt?” Reylin asked as she grew closer.
“The back of my shoulder is bruised and maybe broken, but I’m not bleeding. Where’s Doni?”
“Dead,” he replied. “The flames from one of the mage’s fireballs leapt at the tree where he was standing. I saw him fall directly into the fire. There’s nothing there now but ash.”
Reylana looked over at the tree where Doni had been. “I’m sorry to lose him. He was a fine healer. Did any of his supplies survive? We’re going to need those.”
“Some of the archers are looking for them,” he replied. “We’ll just have to help each other instead of relying on a healer.”
He inspected the lump on his sister’s back. It was rapidly becoming darker, and she winced when he touched it. “I think something is broken in there, Sis. We need to get your arm stabilized so it can heal.”
“I can’t use a two-handed sword very well with one arm wrapped up,” she protested.
“You’ll never use it at all if your arm heals crooked.” He looked her straight in the eyes, his tone serious.
“Ok,” she said reluctantly. He removed his vest and began ripping the fabric to create a makeshift sling. Wrapping it around her arm with a delicacy that she found surprising, he said, “That should do for now. Maybe another clan still has a living healer that can look at it.”
“You still want me to visit the other clans?”
“Of course I do. We’ll be much stronger if we stand together. We have no homes now, so we’re all going to be living in the trees. They can’t keep burning our villages if we have none. With nothing holding us in place, we can form an army to match the strength of our enemy. We’re going to win this.”
Reylana looked at her brother’s hopeful expression and sighed. She knew a village could be rebuilt in time, but this had been her home since she was born. Everything was changing and not for the better. “You should have some of your men start scouting the area to locate the other homeless clans. We need to know the locations of each clan and which still have villages that could be vulnerable. Those will probably be hit next and will need protection.”
“Now you’re starting to sound like a war leader,” Reylin commented with a smile.
Chapter 10
A bright, cloudless sky settled over the palace district as Yori moved through the marketplace. The aroma of freshly baked bread filled his nostrils, reminding his stomach that he had not yet eaten that day. He hoped that one of the merchants might have a menial task for him to perform which would earn him a few coins for a good meal. Eventually, he would be starting out on his long walk home, and he did not intend to go with an empty belly.
As he continued through the marketplace, he noticed a young woman was following him. From a distance, she repeatedly glanced at him and looked away quickly when he saw her. She carried a basket of wildflowers, and her light brown hair cascaded in soft ringlets over her shoulders. Bright yellow ribbons accentuated her tresses and brought out the brightness in her eyes. Looking at Yori once more, she gave a shy smile. He smiled back and stared at her curiously.
Slowly, she made her way from behind a merchant’s stall and began walking casually toward him. She browsed at each stall along the way, pretending she wasn’t interested in him at all. Finding an ounce of hidden courage, he began to move in her direction until he was standing next to her in front of a stall filled with fancy cloth and lace. As she admired a roll of embroidered satin, she glanced at him and flashed a smile.
“Hello,” he said.
“Hello,” she echoed, turning to face him.
Yori had very little experience speaking to women, especially pretty ones. This girl was breathtaking, and he found himself at a complete loss for words.
“It’s a fine day,” the girl said. “Are you a traveler?”
“Yes,” Yori replied, thankful that she had continued the conversation. “I’m from Enald.”
“I’ve never been there,” she said, shaking her head slightly and causing her ringlets to bounce. Yori’s eyes locked on the moving tresses as they danced upon her breast. Seeming to notice where his gaze had ventured, she slipped her arm in his and compelled him to walk alongside here.
“My name’s Arla,” she said as she walked.
“I’m Yori,” he replied, wondering where they were going. This was his first time walking arm in arm with a girl, and he was concentrating on his stride in an attempt to not trip over his own feet. Looking like a fool was one thing, but the thought of looking foolish in front of such a pretty girl was mortifying.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Yori,” she said. “I baked a fresh apple pie this morning. Would you like to have some?”
“Umm, sure,” Yori said, surprised by the question.
She continued to lead the way out of the marketplace and down the narrow street to a residential area. The neighborhood was filled with small houses built only a few feet apart from each other. The street seemed fairly clean, and few people were around.
Arriving at her home, she opened the door and motioned him inside. “My father is out for the day,” she said. “He’s gone on business and won’t be back until dark.”
She sat on the edge of a bed near the side wall of the house. Yori stood awkwardly, staring at the girl.
“Come and sit,” she said, patting the bed next to her.
Yori obeyed and sat next to the girl. She gave him a flirty smile and kissed him quickly on the lips. Yori was too surprised by her actions to respond. No one had ever kissed him before, and he was unsure how to proceed. She looked away shyly and glanced back up at him.
“Aren’t you going to kiss me?” she asked in a mischievous tone.
Yori said nothing. After a moment of silence, he placed a hand on her cheek and kissed her soft, warm lips. Though he’d never kissed anyone, he had watched closely as young lovers in Enald had passed by him in the marketplace. He was fairly certain he was imitating their actions well.
Arla seemed pleased with the kiss and giggled happily as he released her. She began unlacing her bodice, allowing her bosom to show through her thin chemise. Slipping the dress down off of her shoulders, she revealed her nakedness to Yori, who sat in awed silence, hungrily devouring the sight before him.
Instinctively, he moved closer to her, placing a hand on one breast. He caressed it gently and began kissing her neck passionately. Wrapping her arms around him, she began kissing him along his neck and nibbling at his earlobe. Forgetting himself in the moment, he allowed her to continue working up his ear until she slid her fingers through his sandy hair, removing the headband that hid his secret.
Seeing the pointed tips to his ears, Arla recoiled with a scream of fright and clutched her chemise to her chest. She backed away quickly and stumbled to the door. Yori sat stunned, not knowing what to say. He knew why she was upset, but he had no idea how to calm her.
The girl began to scream as she flung open the door and proceeded, undressed, into the streets. “Help me!” she cried, her throat raspy with terror. “Someone, please! He’s tried to rape me! An elf! A Wild Elf!”
Yori’s eyes went wide with fear. He stood frozen in the doorway, holding his breath and staring at the young woman. Another woman came running over to her and helped her wrap the chemise around her body to cover her nakedness.
Pointing at Yori, Arla cried, “He’s an elf! He tried to force himself on me! An elf!”
A small crowd began to gather as they heard the commotion. Two guards approached and grabbed Yori’s arms. One of them punched him in the stomach, forcing the air from his
lungs. He offered no resistance, for fear they might kill him on the spot. His messy hair barely covered his ear tips, and he could not possibly deny the crime of being an elf.
The guards dragged him to the palace dungeons as half the citizens in the marketplace watched. Tossing him roughly inside a stone cell, the guard slammed the iron door shut and turned the key. Yori sat on the damp stone floor and buried his head in his hands. He was certain they would execute him. An elf could not expect a fair trial in Na’zora.
His mind swam with the possibility of being tortured before he was killed. Tears began to flow as he wished with all his heart that he had departed the palace district immediately, rather than wasting time around town. If only he could change that one moment, he would be free to return home to his family. He thought of little Meladee and how sad she would be when he did not return. The best he could hope for was a swift execution, but he knew that was unlikely. In the cramped stone cell he would find no comfort, only despair.
Chapter 11
For two days Yori languished in the cramped cell. He was given a few bread crusts and just enough water to make him feel constantly thirsty. No one had spoken a word to him since he arrived. The only sounds in the dungeon were the footsteps of the guards, the dripping of water, and the occasional cries of a fellow prisoner.
A pale torchlight illuminated the darkness in the hallway. Someone was approaching his cell, but his eyes were blinded by the sudden light. The footsteps indicated that two men were coming his direction. Fearing they would take him to his execution, Yori began to breathe heavily and closed his eyes.
“You’re tall for an elf,” a voice commented. “For a male, anyway.”
Yori looked up at the man standing outside his cell. He wore fine boots and a brocade tunic. Behind him was a younger man, who glanced nervously from side to side.
“I never would have guessed you were an elf. You hid it well, my friend,” the first man said, moving closer to the bars and lowering the torch slightly.
The face revealed by the light stunned Yori. His heart missed a beat as he recognized the face of none other than Prince Aelryk.
“I believe it’s customary to stand when your prince approaches,” he said.
Yori scrambled to his feet, still in a state of shock. “Forgive me, Your Highness,” he said, stammering. His balance was poor from sitting so long in one position, and he leaned a hand against the bars to steady himself.
“You have been accused of attempted rape,” the prince began. “Are you guilty?”
“No, my lord,” Yori replied.
“Then the girl is a liar?”
“I think she was frightened when she discovered I am half elf, my lord.” The last thing Yori wanted to do was accuse a Na’zoran citizen of lying.
“I believe you,” Aelryk said. “I am young, but I am a very good judge of character.”
The prince took out the fine sword that Yori had helped craft. Yori held his breath, expecting the sword to pierce his heart. Perhaps this was the swift execution he had hoped for.
Instead of running him through, the prince spoke again. “This is a very fine sword. If you are an elf, you can learn to etch runes.”
“I am only half, my lord,” Yori began. “My father was an elf, but my mother was human.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Aelryk replied casually. “I’m told a drop of elven blood is all that’s required. You have a talent for crafting metals, and it shows. I will offer you an opportunity for freedom. Seek out your elven kin and learn the art of rune carving. Once you are proficient, you will return to Na’zora and work for me.”
“Surely the elves would kill me as I approached,” Yori replied, shaking his head.
“A quick death at their hands is far better than what my father has in store for a raping half-breed,” the prince said matter-of-factly.
Yori considered his words for only a second. He had no doubt the prince spoke the truth, and he did not wish to find out what King Domren’s punishment would be. “I will go,” he said. “If I live, I will return when I’ve mastered the runes.”
“Guards!” Aelryk shouted. One of them came running at the sound of the prince’s voice. “Release this man. He is going on a mission for me that will most likely result in his death. I pardon him of all charges.”
The guard bowed slightly to his prince and sorted through the keys that were tied to his belt. Finding the correct one, he unlocked the gate to Yori’s cell and opened the door. Bowing again to Aelryk, he disappeared once again into the darkness of the dungeon.
Aelryk turned to the young page whose face still showed his uneasiness. Being in a dungeon, even as a free man, was not a pleasant experience. “Get this man some clean clothing. He’s about your size, so bring him something of your own. Nothing too fancy, just a simple shirt and pants. He’ll also need a decent pair of boots.”
The young man bowed and ran out of the dungeon quickly. Any task was better than standing in the oppressive dungeon. The prince motioned for Yori to follow him, and together they ascended the stairs leading out of the dark, cold prison.
“You’ll want to keep your hair covering those ears as best you can until you’re safely out of the palace district. Your kind trade at some of the market villages along our border, but few people here will tolerate an elf.”
Yori nodded, squinting his eyes as they adjusted to the light.
The page returned carrying a green shirt and a brown pair of pants which he offered to Yori. Slung over the boy’s shoulder was a pair of leather boots that had hardly been worn.
“Well done,” the prince said, clapping the boy on the back.
Yori changed into the new clothes, wishing he had the opportunity to bathe first. He had no desire to hang around, however, and decided it would be best to wait until he was safely back on the road that would lead him home.
Once he had finished dressing, the prince handed him a small purse. “This will help you if you encounter any more trouble. Most guards are easily bribed. They may expect double when they find out you’re an elf.”
“Thank you, my lord,” he said, tucking it safely away in his pocket.
“You are on your honor,” Aelryk said. “I expect you to keep your word and return here someday. If you do not, I will assume you have died.”
“I am grateful for your kindness, my lord,” Yori said. “I will return one day.”
The prince nodded and looked him in the eye. Yori felt it strange that a nobleman, especially a prince, would have such trust in him. Most Na’zorans did not see elves as honorable or trustworthy.
The prince, however, was different. He judged a man by his character and actions. His instincts told him that Yori was a good man that had been falsely accused. In sparing this elf’s life, he might earn two things. First, he might earn the respect of whichever clan the young man encountered. Surely he would relay his story, and the other elves would judge the prince’s actions as commendable. Secondly, if the young elf succeeded in mastering the runes and returned, Aelryk would have earned himself a rune carver.
Only elves have the ability to etch magical runes, and no human, whether rich or poor, had ever managed to employ an elf for the task. They would staunchly refuse, even to the death. This young man, however, was a child of both worlds. He had grown up in the human world, and Aelryk hoped that he would return to it.
Chapter 12
Aelryk continued ascending the steps until he reached the main floor of the palace. Making his way to his father’s council chambers, he paused momentarily outside the door and took a single deep breath. His father had finally set aside a precious few minutes of his time to speak with him as he had requested.
“You’re late,” the king remarked as Aelryk opened the door.
“Forgive me, Father,” he replied, knowing full well he was actually early.
“What is it you want?” The king sat at the end of a long, rectangular table in an ornately carved high-back chair. His expression was one of boredom
. Apparently he did not care much for whatever his son was about to say.
“I’d like to discuss the situation with the elves,” Aelryk began. “They are attacking our citizens in the outlying villages and leaving none alive. Those people are unarmed and have no chance to-”
“We cannot station troops at every village,” Domren broke in. “We barely have enough men as it is. If we start splitting our forces to protect every single village, the elves will easily destroy our army.”
“That wasn’t my idea, Father,” the prince said, trying to hide his frustration.
“Then what?” the king asked impatiently.
“We have already destroyed the majority of elven villages on this side of the river. There are no reports of any rebuilding, so they are certainly in a weakened position. Perhaps they will be willing to negotiate and rebuild their villages farther from our borders.”
Domren gave his son an annoyed look. “Those savages will live among the trees. They don’t need those measly huts we’ve destroyed. Why would I want to negotiate with them when I can simply wipe them out? If we negotiate, they’ll want something in return. I’m not giving them anything.”
“But Father-” the prince began.
“I’ve heard enough from you,” the king interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. “I have a bit of news that concerns you. I have agreed to an engagement between you and the eldest daughter of King Olin of Ra’jhou. The prophet Orzi has foretold that she will be an excellent match. You will soon be wed.”
“Father, this is hardly the time to be planning weddings. There is a war happening, and I have other matters which are more urgent.”
“Exactly,” the king said. “In exchange for taking a daughter off of his hands, King Olin will be adding some of his troops to our own. With our forces combined, we will destroy the elves entirely.”
Aelryk stood in silence. He had no idea what words might convince his father to negotiate rather than continue the fighting. Both sides were suffering heavy losses, and it weighed heavily on the prince’s conscience. There was little choice for him other than to follow his father’s command. After all, he was only a prince and not yet a king. Soon he would be ordered to continue the raids, and there was nothing he could do about it.