War-Torn

by J. E. Keep

  Ramtok shed off his thick overcoat, revealing a broad physique — more muscled and bulky than the first — clad in metal, strapped to his form with leather strips.

  “About damn time,” he said in his guttural tone, so heavy and harsh as he shook off the snow, only the drip of melting ice and the distant howl of the winds above to challenge that earth-shaking voice.

  The third of their party was by far the smallest. Aleena was easily a foot shorter than the pair, yet her motions were anything but meek. She was the colour of snow, her hair an unreal white, her skin holding just the faint trace of pink beneath her cheeks from the cold. She was clad in white fur, and though it was for practical, camouflage purposes against the permafrost, she rarely traded it in for more neutral colours.

  Aleena’s daggers were strapped to her hips and those piercing green eyes were keen as she moved. She was sandwiched between the two brutes, but her movements were confident and smooth.

  “You know I hate being idle just as well as you,” she reprimanded lightly.

  The two Kron were quite similar beneath their garbs, though their skin colour differed — one was grey green, the other brown grey — and there was the obvious difference in bulk. Ramtok bore a great spear and rifle upon his back, with a scimitar at his side, while Saghar merely toted his walking staff.

  “My brother only worries for you,” came the guttural, grunting words of Saghar as he stood beside her. “The snow-lands are harsh, Matriarch.” It was an odd term of respect and affection applied to an elf of all beings; an unheard-of twist for their kind, whom had been at war with one another for longer than mortal memory could recall.

  She stayed so near to both of them, and there was no questioning that she was in charge. It was a quiet understanding between the three of them, and they all accepted it for what it was. She had plans to help them and their people, and in return they offered her submission and so much more.

  “Once we’re out of here, I will feel a lot safer, that much is certain,” she agreed, their bulky frames offsetting her own toned body. She had wide hips, thick thighs, but her limbs were strong and agile. “Hopefully we’ll make a good pace.”

  Saghar nodded to her and led the way. Though lesser armed, he had keen senses beyond Ramtok’s, and always managed to guide them through any situation.

  The caves down into the plateau split off into a myriad of little offshoots that spider webbed out. One could get lost in them for weeks without proper guidance, so the trio relied on the witch doctor to take them through.

  The monotonous drip of water from the cracks above was the only accompaniment to their footsteps, though the temperature grew more hospitable the further down they went. They came at last to a great cavern, the ceiling of which stretched upwards so high. It appeared empty, though their sight was limited to what the shimmering crystalline objects embedded into the stonework revealed. They made for faint lighting at best, but before they set out Saghar had warned them that to shed more light would be a reckless danger.

  Saghar paused, stood motionless at the entrance to that mighty cavern, and his brother shifted a bit anxiously, hand gripping the hilt of his weapon. Though that was nothing special, he always seemed agitated and protective of the other two.

  Aleena’s elven eyes worked over their surroundings, as cautious as any as her hands gripped her weapons. Beasts and animals were always a potential threat, though more sentient things were always the greatest danger. People were desperate everywhere she went, and she knew the depths of insanity that desperation led people to.

  It was not something she wished to have to succumb to, which was why the deal was so important.

  The silence dragged on long, but at last Saghar jerked his head off to one direction and the trio moved on. They were newly joined together, but already the pair of Kron brothers seemed absolutely dedicated to Aleena. Despite the tales of her own people, they’d shown themselves to be faithful to their deal, and more civilized than most humans and elves she’d known.

  Not that it was the case for most of their kind, as she’d met plenty of ravenous Kron that fit the picture of the legends too.

  As they made their way across the open cavern Saghar finally spoke. “Ramtok. Up.”

  Immediately after, they heard the shriek of some terrifying creature as it descended towards them.

  Upon the warning, Ramtok pulled out his scimitar and in a smooth arc sliced through the skull of the ice- blue coloured creature. It was like a wingless bat, with large ears and a snout, though it cleaved in twain from the large Kron’s strike.

  “Kreelengs.” He practically spat the word out as more shrieks sounded from above, and Aleena heard their claws skittering over the stones.

  Her blades were in her hands before anyone could blink an eye and she crouched down before springing herself in the air just in time to stab one through the belly. She deftly leapt aside as the thing careened to the ground, propelled by its prior momentum.

  She was fast, almost blindingly so, but every step she took was precise and planned.

  The three of them fended off the skittering assault of spiderlike bat-creatures. The shrieks of their assault and wails of their cries filled the air as the group fell back towards their destination tunnel, leaving the cavernous floors splattered in their blood.

  Saghar wielded his brass stave with uncanny grace for so large a Kron, and though it did not look like an effective melee weapon, he swung it about in such lavish arcs as to smack away and injure the creatures en masse.

  “Our way is through the tunnel, Matriarch,” he called in his gruff voice, that new title she’d earned for herself still so odd sounding.

  Ramtok let loose a bellowing war cry while slicing and chopping at the creatures as they advanced. He had not the finesse or grace of his two companions, but his reach and strength were impressive. In his spare hand he grabbed one of the attacking limbs of the kreelengs and snapped off a talon with the crunch of bone.

  She led them, the three fighting in tandem. Their styles were so varied, yet she was quickly learning how well they complemented one another. Anything the bigger two missed, she easily struck down, diving between the two hulking bodies with such agility and grace.

  The brothers were seasoned warriors, which was a rare thing. Few reached such a point where they could claim to be seasoned anything, especially not a warrior. And as they left the screeching kreelengs back at the entrance to the cavern — the things seeming frightened and wary after their great losses — the two men gave her an appreciative look.

  The humans and elves may have had their legends of the savagery of Kron, but they had their own tales of the weakness and machine-cruelty of the fairer races.

  “This way, Matriarch,” led Saghar, taking them down the twisting cavern, the stone worn smooth by countless years of runoff from the glacier above.

  Ramtok added as his heavy metal footfalls came down on the rock hard, “They aren’t followin’.”

  “They know that only death will find them,” Aleena said confidently. Her blades were bloodied, yet somehow she’d managed not to stain the white of her hair or the fur covering her body but for a brief speckling across her cheek and shoulder.

  The trio carried on, the two Kron having no issue carting the great load of goods with their personal belongings down the stone slope. After a while Aleena felt the stirring of air ahead, and so knew they were reaching an end before Saghar even announced it.

  Getting to the end of the tunnel, all they saw was a field of brown and green, rising and falling, as the forest carried over hills and valleys.

  “Careful,” cautioned Saghar, “we’ll need to climb down a rope.”

  She could see it for herself as she neared the ledge. The tunnel’s opening came to an abrupt stop, yet there was still such an immense distance to go before they reached the ground below. She sighted another ledge further down that they could reach using her climbing gear.

  Aleena nodded and shrugged off her own backpack. Thei
r bulk was intimidating, and for a moment she worried about the strength of the rope but quickly brushed the thought aside. Strangely enough, she trusted them and their capabilities, even as she went to help set it up.

  “I guess you’ll go first, Saghar.” She motioned with her head. “Then me. Then Ramtok.”

  The two Kron looked about to protest, but instead they sealed their lips shut tight and obeyed. In the weeks since she’d met with their people and negotiated their servitude, they’d come to address her with the same fealty they would a Kron matron.

  Ramtok secured the rope as Saghar tied it about his waist, and then in concert the pair got to lowering the witch doctor down. With the staff strapped to his back, Saghar moved down across the rock face with surprising agility. It was as if he were made for such a task, as he swung from one hold to the next with the grace of a mountain lion.

  When at last he reached the lower ledge, he took a look around then secured the rope tight before calling out, “We’ll have you from both ends, Matriarch.” His thick muscles went taut as he held the rope in a firm grasp.

  She held her smirk as she began her own way down. Following her own path, her slender elven form made a graceful and speedy plunge down the rock face. Whereas Saghar may have moved with the surprising grace of a mountain lion, she spun and rappelled as if she were flying upon gossamer wings until she was on her feet once more, the leather soles of her boots firmly on the rocks.

  Saghar stared at her with his dark eyes wide, and mouth hung open just a bit. The bulky Kron was more impressed than she’d seen him even in the cavern above. He bowed his head to her in reverence and helped her — needlessly — to the comfort of the ledge.

  As Ramtok then made his way down, the large warrior sending stones and pebbles spilling down the cliffside, she couldn’t help but notice they were at another cave entrance. It curved around but did not go in too far, and she saw at the back were a high concentration of the glowing crystals. So many of them it lit the area rather well, and even radiated a soft warmth in the cool of the waning spring day.

  “I hate to say it,” she admitted, “but we might want to settle in for the night.” Her head motioned towards the mouth of the other cave. “We will clear it out and set up watch. Hopefully it’ll be easy to protect.”

  Ramtok was noisily making his way to the ledge with them as they heard her order. Saghar helped his larger brother to safety then unwound the rope from around him, coiled it back up then handed it to Aleena.

  “Yes, Matriarch,” chimed the more sagely brother.

  The larger merely took out his scimitar and carried out her orders, inspecting the cave top to bottom. When at last they were done and satisfied with the security of the place, they laid out their supplies and set about getting ready.

  Saghar was fast at work on a fire, using some tinder kit he brought with him when Ramtok pulled out some wrapped meat to cook from a parcel in his backpack. They knew their roles to serve her well already.

  She, meanwhile, was looking over a small map, not for the first time. Despite the fact that she had the two Kron as guides, she didn’t use that to be lazy and ignorant about the route they were planning on taking. They’d outlined it well and she’d committed it to memory, but it was like a security blanket as they prepared her bed and food.

  They’d already spent so much time waiting, but the trek made her feel that comfortable exhaustion, to the point that she knew she’d have a good rest that evening.

  “Ramtok, you’ll take first watch, then Saghar. I’ll take final.”

  “Yes Matriarch,” they intoned together, sounding so obedient, though she had been warned back in their village that they were troublesome. They were the best of their clan and they had let it go to their heads, it was said.

  With the meat fried — though she knew not what kind it was exactly — they brought to her on the flat metal pan the full of the meal.

  “First offerings for you,” spoke Saghar, and Ramtok grunted his agreement. Despite her race they looked to her, a pale white elf, as their leader now, and both remained on their knees as they offered her the prepared food.

  She didn’t rebuke them, instead plucking some of the meat from the pan and chewing it thoughtfully. She gave a brief smile of acceptance and her eyes went to the mouth of the cave.

  “You two share up the rest,” she said as she stood up. Though she was a hippy woman, she’d never eaten much in their presence and seemed no worse for it.

  They divvied up the rest between them with no apparent hierarchy there, the two brothers just working in concert as they devoured the rest of the fried meat. When they were done and they cleaned up, Ramtok gave her a deep bow then went to the mouth of the cave. With the curve of the shelter it put the larger Kron out of sight as Saghar looked to her.

  His broad frame, though muscular, was not the extreme bulk of his brother, and so to look at the green-grey man, he appeared more like a large, powerful human than the caricature of Krons. Only the broad jaw, the upturned tusks, skin colour, and fashion marked him for what he was.

  The white furs he wore about his shoulders and in a kilt were his usual wear, even before she set out with them.

  “You move with the grace of legends,” he stated to her as he arranged that long ebon ponytail of his around his shoulder and over one of his pecs.

  She shrugged off the fur cloak, revealing the leather-clad figure beneath, and spread the cloak over the ground as she settled down. Aleena didn’t really know what to say, but her green eyes found his and a smile turned her lips upwards.

  “You don’t live to be my age by being clumsy.”

  Saghar was appealing, and not just for a Kron. It was only that wild, barbaric-looking garb that really hid it. Though as his gaze looked over her hippy form, the obvious appreciation for her was hidden beneath wonder.

  “How old are you anyhow, Matriarch? You look like but a young matron, barely ready for her first harem of males.” His fingers curled on his legs, the sharp dark nails digging into the fur there. She’d learned some of their culture in her journeys with them, and the fact that women ruled their society infected everything they believed.

  She laughed, and it was the earnest music of elven joy.

  “Well, let’s just say I’m older than you imagine, then, Saghar.” She stretched out on the fur, her hands planted behind her as she watched him, curiously. “They warned me of you. Do you know that? They’ve warned of both of you.”

  He nodded to her diligently. He had but a short triangular tuft of black hair at the center of his chin, and he stroked the little beard thoughtfully as he eyed her.

  “Aye, Matriarch. I assumed they would.” There was a certain little light in his dark eyes then. A glimmer of mischievousness. “The Matron of our clan found me very disagreeable. She was eager to be rid of me.” He licked along his lips from tusk to tusk.

  “How’d you manage to piss her off, hm?” she asked, leaning in. She, too, shared a history of being thought of as a troublemaker despite her stern persona. All of them, she supposed, were more than what they appeared to be.

  He shrugged his broad shoulders, though that look of wishing to elude her question faded. He might’ve been a troublemaker, but he seemed reluctant to refuse his new Matriarch’s questions. Or perhaps it was growing respect that urged him on.

  “I questioned too much,” he said simply. “I always asked for more during lessons. I always sought to do things a better way.” He grinned across at Aleena wryly. “The Matron of our clan did not care for such things. It tried her patience more than anything else, for her inability to answer questions weakened her authority in her eyes.”

  “You haven’t questioned me much,” she replied simply, and pleasure sparkled in her emerald eyes. “Perhaps she had weak authority to begin with and you just reminded her of it.”

  He gave a gruff chuckle to that and nodded to her slightly.

  “It’s true, she was a weak Matron. She did not earn her position through cunnin
g or effort. She inherited it.” He shrugged his shoulders. “As for you? I am still appraising you,” and he added on in his gruff voice, an air of husky desire to it, “Matriarch.”

  Her light-peach lips parted, brightening that pale, icy look she usually had. She was so fair, so delicate seeming, but that deviance in her eyes was anything but innocent. She leaned towards him, her fingers running through the thick fur beneath her bottom.

  “And what do you think so far?”

  Saghar strummed his fingers upon his chin as he watched her, studying her in his quiet manner.

  “I think you are likely more cunning than you seem. Definitely more cunning than the Matron thought you,” he added with a smirk. “You have angles you are working that we do not yet understand. But—” He paused, reluctant to say more. All she had to do was look at him to get him to continue. “But you are an able leader and a stunning fighter. Thus far,” he added in his gravelly voice.

  “Subject to change,” she teased as she moved closer, prowling like a shadowy cat. Her hair fell down along her shoulders, framing her face in that pure white down, but her smile was dark and secretive.

  Interracial relations between humans and elves were tolerated because of the need for more bodies at the front.

  With members of the other side, however? It was considered abhorrent. Vile.

  They were at war for a reason, despite few knowing what that reason was, if any.

  Yet still, the pair looked to each other in the glow of the cavern, desire obvious in their gazes.

  “You do have the fire of a true Matron in you,” he remarked as the elven woman stalked closer to him. His tongue lingered at the corner of his lips as his chest rose and fell with his rising breathing.