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The guard at the village gate escorted Morrigan Fae of Moonsface towards Tigh Na Mare Castle to meet with Lord Orenda Nassen. The elf wanted to purchase a slave and heard a shipment had arrived earlier in the day. Morrigan was a woodsman species, the sort who preferred the forests to civilized accommodations, and his clothing, a mix of browns and greens, reflected this. His earth-coloured brown hair, tied into a single braid, almost reached his trousers. He appeared lean for an elf but of average height. The female guard who escorted him measured more than a foot taller.
“A fair evening.” Morrigan broke the silence between them. His quick pace kept him abreast of the female’s long strides.
“If you like this sort of evening.” The guard eyed the elf. She looked big enough to tackle the visitor with one hand and guzzle a mug of rum in the other.
Morrigan decided small talk wouldn’t help make the task which lay ahead easier. He knew the philosophy of the female warriors who ruled and occupied Tigh Na Mare; they reigned—men served one purpose and once sufficiently exploited, discarded. The human women preferred human males only for procreation. This kept their bloodlines pure. They tolerated male visitors of other races for business and nothing more.
The elf understood the fine line he walked. He needed to appear friendly while maintaining a tenor of equality and respect. A wrong move could end his life or thrust him into slavery. Over the years, Morrigan had learnt male human prisoners from Tigh Na Mare were exchanged for female prisoners at Blackvale Castle. The human females remained at Tigh Na Mare and disciplined in the warrior ways. Those of other races were sold as slaves or sold for inflated prices to those who sought their freedom.
Tonight Morrigan sought a special slave, one he had hunted for more than five years. He had to keep his wits about him and not let his feelings for this woman reveal his true intentions. If they did, it might cost him his life.
The Tigh Na Mare guard stopped at the castle gates, received the required clearance, then continued in silence. She led Morrigan Fae down a long hallway and to the throne room.
One of the two guards at the entrance to the room stepped in front of the visitor. “State your name and business?”
“Morrigan Fae of Moonsface. I’ve received notification slaves have arrived and if I wanted the pick of the bunch, I should act in haste.”
The burly guard grunted and stepped aside. “With a face like yours, I can see why you’d need to buy a woman.”
If Morrigan didn’t have excellent hearing, he’d have missed the rude comment. He smiled, pretending not to hear the criticism, and followed the guard inside.
Lord Orenda Nassen rested upon an elegant marble throne held aloft by a raised oval platform at the opposite end of the room. Stone curls, symbolic of waves crashing upon the coastline overlooked by the castle, adorned the dais. Behind the throne, a mammoth wave of black stone soared twenty feet into the air and erupted with three dolphins riding the crest and sheltering the lord below.
Morrigan had appreciated the meticulously carved figures since his first visit three years beforehand. The ornate throne held the commanding position in the otherwise sparsely decorated room. With the absence of chairs, loyal subjects and visitors had to stand and gaze up towards the throne. A row of windows to the left and right emitted enough sunlight to illuminate the room but on dark nights as this one, dozens of wall torches provided the light.
Morrigan knew the throne room to be an exception. Ornaments, weapons and furniture filled other areas he had entered, but most visitors saw only this room, a cavernous shell that implied Lord Orenda Nassen and her fugal warriors had nothing to steal.
This evening, several dozen warriors and servants surrounded Lord Nassen. The tall, lean human wore an elegant yellow silk blouse with long sleeves, deep burgundy trousers and a black cloak. A collar of silver chainmail hung loose around her neck and dipped between her breasts. A long sword hung at her left hip. Three sheathed daggers adorned her right side. She appeared battle ready.
Orenda Nassen scrutinized the visitor, and Morrigan felt the force behind the lord’s pale green eyes probe his mind and search his life force for ulterior motives. The elf tightened his defences, preventing attempts by the lord to breach his outer perimeter. A shallow smile caressed her lips, and Morrigan knew the lord sensed his actions. The wise and crafty Orenda chose to associate with like-minded individuals.
“Morrigan Fae of Moonsface…always a delight to do business with you.” Lord Orenda Nassen signalled the elf to approach. “What are you in the market for this evening?”
“Lord Nassen, I received notification of a new shipment of slaves.” Morrigan chose his words carefully. He had to appear indifferent though he wished to storm the dungeon, find the woman he loved and escape.
“Your information is correct and you are eager.” She motioned for a drink, and a servant handed her a mug of rum.
“I intend to leave for Wardlow at first light. When I learnt of the shipment, I put business before pleasure.”
Lord Nassen smiled. “Do you have sufficient coin to barter for a slave?” When Morrigan nodded, she summoned a scribe. “What do you seek in a woman slave? Beauty? Strength? Courage? Or just obedience? Do you desire an elf or another race?”
“I seek a hardy slave, one who’ll survive the rugged conditions in which I live. She must be small enough to gain entry into places I am too large to access. She must be crafty and if not handy with a weapon, possess the ability to learn. I prefer a youth, one still vulnerable to manipulation.” Morrigan eased his stance. “I wish to view the slave before any decision is finalized. I reserve the right to reject a slave who is missing a limb, appears diseased or ill. If I feel I’m able to heal the slave and choose to take her, I expect a reduced price.”
“Young. Healthy. Small.” Lord Nassen spoke to the scribe. “Hauflins arrived in the transfer. What are their ages?”
The slim female skimmed the list of prisoners. “Fifty-three, twenty-one and seventeen, My Lord.”
“Bring the two youngest to me.”
Morrigan drew a shallow breath as he watched the warrior exit the room. This was a business transaction. If Lord Nassen thought otherwise, she’d throw him in the dungeon and charge him with deception. He’d lose the opportunity to gain the hauflin’s freedom.
“What takes you to Wardlow?” Lord Nassen raised the mug of rum to her lips and eyed the elf.
Morrigan forced a smile. “Pleasure, of course, as business always is.”
“And your plan is to take immediate charge of the slave; she’s to go with you?”
Morrigan nodded. “An extra set of eyes and ears will aid my profession.” As far as the lord knew, he dealt in underhanded transactions, ones that brought profit him alone. If she knew his true vocation, she might execute him on the spot.
An explosion shook the walls. Morrigan dived for cover. Peering through the falling debris and dust, he watched Lord Orenda Nassen leap to her feet and draw her sword.
“Guards! Find the source!” She glared down at Morrigan Fae. “Return at first light to complete the trade.” She motioned to two warriors. “Remove him from Tigh Na Mare!”
The warriors grappled the elf’s arms and propelled him forward. Morrigan glanced about to find the cause of the explosion. Warriors sprinted from one entry to another, searching the inside of the castle and the grounds. Morrigan heard shouting on the western wall, but he failed to see the reason as his escorts thrust him towards the village gates.
“His weapons!” shouted one of the escorting warriors to the entry guards.
Before Morrigan could speak or strap on his scabbard, he landed with a thud on the rough ground. The heavy village gates slammed shut, leaving him to the darkness of the barren land. He gathered his weapons and searched for his pony. The animal waited near the gate where he had left it. After strapping on his weapons, he mounted.
Morrigan rode away from Tigh Na Mare, treating the expulsion as business as u
sual. He knew the guards at the gate towers watched him. As soon as he reached the forest and travelled out of their sight, he’d double back and learn what had caused the explosion.
…Scattered Stones available May 6, 2016
Destiny Governed their Lives Page 4