Elves of Irradan

by RG Long

  She motioned at Jurgon who gave Blume a wink.

  “On the ship,” Holve commanded.

  Looking down at Blume he added, “I'm glad you kept off that elf ship, Blume. Then how would we have known to go looking for the others?”

  “Jurgon, of course!” Blume said back to him.

  Ealrin heard the halfling's typical “Yup!” from on board the vessel.

  That did little to calm him.

  “Which ship are they on, anyway?” Tory asked as he looked around the docks. “There are more than ten elf ones, plus all the normal trade ships of Darrion!”

  Blume ran up the ramp and surveyed the area around them. Ealrin also looked at all the ships. It was difficult to see them all due to each elven vessel being twice the size of their own.

  “It's not where it was when I last saw it,” she said, looking towards an empty space on the docks. “It was... There!”

  She said the last word as she pointed to a ship that was orange and already sailing far off towards the southern horizon.

  “Oh no!” she lamented. “They're getting away!”

  “Not for long!” Felicia barked, and orders began to fly out of her faster than smoke from a fire.

  Ealrin was so busy following them, he hadn't noticed someone waving at Blume from the docks. Someone looking young in years, but not in demeanor.

  “Dilinor!” Blume was shouting. “Dilinor! Those priests!”

  “Yes, they are escorting His Excellency back to the capital,” he replied, nonchalantly as he normally did.

  “My father told me just now. We are going to war with the Wood Walkers! More elves are sailing here as we speak! I expect a full offensive, by this time next week, to take place!”

  “What!?” she yelled back at him, disbelief and fear covering her face.

  “Father's been promoted to general!” Dilinor said back with pride, obviously misreading Blume's reaction. “I must go with him immediately. I see you are off. Farewell.”

  Without further commentary, the young elf was off down the docks, disappearing into the crowd.

  “Ealrin!” Blume shouted at him, concern all over her face.

  “I know, I heard him,” he responded. He looked around for Holve. The older man had his familiar concentration crease breaking into his brow.

  “Let's get off these docks, if we can,” he said, indicating with a nod towards the stairs that led from the lower districts. A full column of soldiers from Darrion, the first of the volunteer army, came marching down the steps. “Then we'll talk.”

  Ealrin recalled that, only this morning, they had broken away from the House of Nobles, without being given any blessing, with Wood Walker elves, not to mention attacking the nobles themselves in their own throne room.

  It was a miracle they were aboard the ship at all.

  “Full sail!” Felicia ordered. “The wind is with us!”

  In moments, the sails were down and the wind was carrying the Swords away from Lone Peak and after their friends.

  “IT'S GETTING HARDER to see the ship," Blume said to Ealrin, as the suns were beginning to sink over to their left.

  The wind was still in their sails, but, unfortunately, the same wind was driving the elven vessel ahead of them as well.

  "We're not going to lose them," Ealrin said, with more faith in Felicia's captaincy than their own quickness. He had been with her on more voyages than he cared to recall and she had always managed to get them through.

  Except for that first time, that was.

  The memory of the fateful night must have been playing on his face, for Blume looked up at him and put a hand on his shoulder.

  "Are you okay?" she asked. "I know Wisym and Teresa are both special to you."

  That made Ealrin chuckle.

  After a moment of grinning, he looked down at Blume.

  "Yes," he said. "Both in unique ways. But seeing as how Wisym is a hundred years older than I am and Teresa is a princess, I believe they are both a bit out of my league."

  It was odd to be talking about his possible relationship with the two trapped women aboard the ship ahead of them. But, then again, Ealrin thought, it was brought up by a sixteen year old.

  "I want to see their safe return," he finally said after another moment of Blume staring at him.

  Besides, he thought to himself, the only females he had deep feelings for were Blume, whom he saw more as his adopted daughter than anything else, and another whom hadn't made an appearance for months now. Teresa and Wisym were far from him, not just in distance, but in feeling. No, it was just their safety he wanted. Not their relationship. She raised an eyebrow at him, but he just shook his head.

  “Focus more on the fact that they're being kidnapped, would you?” he said.

  She laughed a bit, but then her face turned serious against the darkening night.

  “Do you think they'll be okay?” she asked, looking back to where the ship was just over the horizon.

  Ealrin knew better than to promise Blume nothing would go wrong. They had both seen more than their fair share of tragedy.

  “We'll do our best to get them back,” he said.

  They both nodded just as they heard Felicia's command.

  “Supper call and first watch! Get to it!”

  WOODEN BOWLS AND SPOONS helped the crew devour the stew Jurrin and Jurgon had thrown together for their company.

  Gorplin seemed to be the only one who was able to both slurp his soup and talk at the same time.

  “Bloody elves,” he said as some meat bits dribbled down his chin. “Knew they were bad business with all that talk about going after the woods. Those two we had seemed alright enough.”

  One of the company wasn't eating much.

  “We ought to warn them,” Blume replied, her spoon resting on the table.

  “What? Teresa and Wisym? I think they already know they're in a tight spot,” Tory replied with a tone of unbelief.

  “You let your tongue off before your mind has finished its job,” Holve answered. “She means the Wood Walkers. And I agree.”

  Spoons sat down into bowls as Holve adjusted himself at the table, pulling a rolled up piece of parchment from behind him. He smoothed it out on the table, revealing a map of Irradan.

  “The Empire's capital is here,” he said, indicating a place called Pahyrst. “The most natural route there is through this river here, out by the coast, and then back around.”

  All the while he traced the route the ship should take to get to the capital.

  “But we're following them more south than that,” Ealrin said, looking at the map and remembering the position of the suns.

  “Exactly,” Holve replied. “I don't think these elves are returning to the capital. I think they're sailing straight for the Wood Walkers' domain.

  A good portion of the map was marked by hand drawn trees. These separated the elves of the south from the kingdom of Darrion to the north and beyond.

  “After a night of full sails and calm weather, we ought to end up here,” he said, pointing to a spot that jutted out on the map.

  “Tacut?” Ealrin said, looking at the handwriting next to a dot.

  “A Wood Walker gathering, according to Wisym and Teresa,” Holve replied. “I'm afraid the Elves of Enoth may be closer to starting their war against the woods than we thought, if they haven't already.”

  He took the parchment and rolled it up again.

  “We do need to warn the Wood Walkers and, unfortunately, the ones I would have sent to do that are aboard that ship we're chasing.”

  He looked around the table, ending with Ealrin. They met each other’s eyes for a moment before Holve began to let them know his thoughts.

  “Some of us should go to warn the elves, get them organized if they'll fight, or prepare in whatever way they see best.”

  “And the rest of us?” Ealrin asked, knowing what must be done.

  “We can't leave Wisym and Teresa to just be taken. Nor should we allow the remaining Wo
od Walker to be left unspoken for. The rest of us should try to get them back, hopefully before the elves of Enoth decide they don't need prisoners.”

  A solemn silence fell over the crew.

  “I'll go,” Blume volunteered.

  Ealrin looked at her from across the table.

  He wanted to tell her she was too young. He wanted to tell her she couldn't imagine the danger of trying to sneak onto an elven ship to rescue prisoners. He wanted to tell her that he wanted her to be safe more than she wanted Teresa and Wisym to be freed.

  But she knew all of those things.

  He could tell just by looking at the determination in her eyes. She knew what it might cost her to go and get her friends back. She stared at him, and he knew she was wanting his blessing. He wasn't her father. But he was her friend.

  Besides, even without her magic, she was beyond capable.

  “I'm going, too,” he said, keeping her gaze.

  She smiled at him.

  “Yup,” Jurrin agreed, taking another bite of soup, as if this was typical dinner conversation.

  The more Ealrin thought about that, however, the more he realized this type of business seemed to be fairly common for their crew.

  “The rest of you ought to aid the Wood Walkers,” Holve continued. “Warn as many of them as you possibly can, convince them to flee if possible."

  "Why can't we convince them to bash those other elves’ heads in?" Gorplin suggested.

  "That's up to them to decide," Holve said. The sound of cannon fire broke up their conversation.

  "Hostiles!" shouted Felicia from the captain’s wheel.

  Bowls and spoons flew as they all abandoned their table to see where the cannons were coming from.

  "Starboard!" Urt shouted.

  The crew hurried over to that side of the ship. Lights began to blaze on three ships that had snuck up on them in the dark.

  "I knew we had left Lone Peak too easily," Holve growled.

  "Where was Wisym and Teresa's last position?" yelled Felicia, who was turning the wheel madly in an attempt to help maneuver away from the cannon fire.

  "Ten degrees off our bow!” Holve shouted. “From what I could tell, there's land two hours to the south."

  More cannon fire split the night and several splashed far too close to the ship for Ealrin's liking.

  A rip in the sails and a tattered rope signaled that another had come even closer to its intended target.

  "Can't this tub sail any faster?" Tory yelled as he pulled hard on the loose end of the rope, trying to secure the sail back to the ship.

  "Only if we throw you overboard! Pull!" Holve replied as he grabbed hold of the rope behind Tory.

  With some help, they managed to tie it down.

  "Think they'll catch us?" Ealrin yelled up at Felicia.

  "Not if I can help it!" she replied.

  The boat took a hard right and they all struggled to grab a hold of something. Ealrin found himself holding onto the stair railing, praying he wouldn't go flying off into the water.

  "Douse the lanterns!" Felicia ordered. "We'll play with their own tricks!"

  Ealrin found the one closest to him and grabbed the wick with one hand while still holding onto the rail with the other. He winced in pain as the fire burned him.

  The light extinguished, along with several others on board.

  The clouds above them blocked out the light of the moon. Glad of the lack of light, Ealrin made his way up the stairs and to the wheel. Felicia was driving the ship like a woman possessed, steering at once this way, and then another moment later wrenching the wheel again.

  Ealrin was pretty sure he heard Tory swearing and Holve vomiting somewhere to his left.

  Then the rain began.

  Cannonballs still peppered the waters around their ship as they zigzagged in total darkness. Ealrin felt disoriented on the ship, clutching onto the side railing and using it to remind himself which way was forward. For what felt like hours, they danced this game.

  "Land ahead!" Urt called from up a rope ladder.

  It was hard for Ealrin to tell, so he had to trust that the experienced mariner knew what he was talking about.

  Felicia was the first to formulate a plan.

  "Holve!" she shouted over the fire of cannons and the pouring rain. “Take your lot and go after the first boat! That elf ship is up ahead. We'll steer these away from you!”

  Looking through the rain, Ealrin cold make out the shape of a large elven boat anchored just off the darker patch he assumed to be the shore. Ealrin made sure the sword was attached to his back. He felt the handle secure in its sheath and, despite the rain all around him and a chill spring air, the sword felt warm to the touch.

  Having made sure his weapon was still with him, Ealrin began to look for Blume. She was hunkered down beside the bottom of the stairs, clinging to the end of the railing. He rushed down the stairs as quickly as he dared and grabbed hold of her.

  “With me,” he said as he ran to the other side of the ship where two small lifeboats hung. He tossed her into one with Jurgon, then hopped in after her.

  He looked back to see Holve and Felicia arguing.

  “Get off my ship, or I'll stick this sword in you!” she was yelling. Holve had her by the arm, but she gripped the wheel like a vice.

  “Don't sacrifice yourself for us!” Holve retorted, attempting to pull her from the wheel.

  “She won't,” Urt said, coming in between them and putting a hand on Holve's arm.

  For a moment, Holve held onto Felicia looking like he was unsure of the Skrilx’s word.

  “If you aren't all dead by morning, meet us at the mouth of the river. If you can't meet there, head to River Grove. We'll meet in one moon,” he told them before letting go of Felicia's arm and joining the others in the boat.

  Tory and Gorplin had helped throw in a few essential supplies, packs and small containers of food in the time the argument with Felicia had taken place. The little craft was as ready as it could be in such a short time. Urt was already leaping over to the cannons, trying to return fire in the black night as Holve made his way to them.

  They lowered the small boat from the ship and, with all of their might behind them, Holve and Ealrin began rowing towards what they prayed was land as they heard the ship sail on without them.

  That was also the same moment they heard new cannons on the horizon, far beyond Felicia and Urt, past even the three ships sailing towards them. A new threat was coming. Whether it was Darrion's own fleet, the other elves of Enoth, or a third group, the party in the rowboat didn't stay long enough to determine.

  42: Another Ship

  "Hard to port!" Felicia shouted as she turned the wheel of the ship, sending both crew and supplies rolling across the deck.

  "Which one is going to kill us first?" shouted Gorplin as he grabbed onto the railing of the ship for dear life. "The cannonballs, or our own bloody captain?"

  "I'll toss you over myself!" she retorted before lurching the wheel in the other direction, sending everyone flying again.

  She had outrun pirates and goblins. She had fought both on a ship she captained as well. She had maneuvered through rocky seas, bitter storms, and perilous winds.

  But Felicia was now trying to let Holve and the others get enough time to steal aboard a ship while she directed the attention of all other vessels onto herself and her crew.

  It was no small task.

  Cannons still fired on them as the clouds cleared even more, allowing the moon to shine on them and give light to their predicament. Even the rain was letting up.

  "Something's beyond them," Urt said as he leapt up to her side, pointing to the ships that were tracking them.

  Felicia spared a glance behind her to see even more cannon fire.

  "Praise the suns, they ain't shootin' at us!" she said as she put their ship on a straight path.

  "Who are they?" Tory shouted as he ran to the back of the ship to get a better look at this new group of ships.


  Felicia turned her gaze to see at least four other vessels, not the elven ones from Enoth, launching an attack on the ships that had been firing at them.

  "Can't make out their colors in the night!" she said. They were too far off for her to tell.

  Now she had a decision to make.

  She could sail back to Lone Peak, or to another Darrion city, wait for the day and see if they could outwit and outrun the elves.

  Or.

  "Grab whatever you can and head for the lifeboat!" she commanded. "We're going ashore!"

  "Now!?" Tory asked, his eyebrows raised high.

  Felicia jerked the wheel again, pointing the ship north and sending Tory down to the deck again. He made a satisfyingly loud moan of pain.

  "Or we'll leave you to steer the ship by your lonesome!" she replied. "Now!"

  Gorplin and Jurrin began to load the small lifeboat with supplies while Felicia took a nearby rope and tied it from the rail to the wheel, hoping the tight knot would hold for an hour or two against strong winds and hard currents. Tory hobbled down to the lifeboat, hoisting a pack over his shoulders.

  Urt was by her side.

  "I really hate abandoning ship," she said as she secured her last knot.

  "For Holve," he said simply.

  Felicia trusted the old man. She had trusted him before the world had gone mad with wars and comets and she would trust him now.

  And his last orders were to warn the Wood Walkers.

  "Aye," she replied.

  The two of them ran for the lifeboat and, with one last look at the deck of yet another ship she was giving up the privilege of captaining, lowered it into the sea.

  THE COMPANY CAME UPON the seashore without much difficulty. Urt and Gorplin hopped out of the boat and struggled to pull it to shore once the water was shallow enough.

  In moments, the boat and all of its supplies and occupants were underneath the protective canopy of the forest.

  Tory was taking stock of what they had, while Felicia restrained herself from slapping him every time he pointed out something they lacked.