The silence in the tent stretched. Then Eli stepped forward.
“Ben,” Eli said, in a neutral tone, “you recall my father, do you not?”
“Of course,” Stiger said, recovering. He cleared his throat. “Tenya’Far, it is an honor to welcome you to the Thirteenth Legion’s camp.”
Eli’s father had never approved of Stiger, which begged the question, why was he here? In fact, why had he even left elven lands in the first place? Elders simply did not travel, ever. It was a fact. Eli had even told Stiger as much. Only youths were ever known to venture out into the wider world. Stiger’s eyes went to Eli, who himself was aged over a thousand years. By his people’s standards, Eli was still considered young, a mere child just into his teens.
“Legate.” Tenya’Far inclined his head slightly in a sign of respect, which was something Eli’s father had never before offered him. When he’d lived amongst the elves, Stiger had gotten the distinct impression Tenya’Far had resented his presence and friendship with Eli. “I am pleased that you are well, very pleased.”
Stiger was at first unsure how to respond. His eyes flicked from Tenya’Far to Taha’Leeth. She shot him a wink, and despite his shock, he almost smiled back at her.
Salt cleared his throat.
“Tenya’Far was just saying,” Salt said, “that he has brought a group of elven warriors with him, to aid us, sir, to fight at our side.”
“Warriors?” Stiger asked. He had only ever seen elven warriors on guard before the warden’s palace, which he’d never been permitted to enter.
What was going on here?
“You’ve come to help?” Stiger asked, hardly daring to believe it was true. “To fight with us?”
“We have,” Tenya’Far said, “with your emperor’s blessing and support.”
“The emperor?” Stiger asked, wondering how the emperor knew that he’d needed help.
“Emperor Tioclesion received the messenger you dispatched,” Tenya’Far said. “Your scouts won through to the emperor’s army and reported the events that occurred in Vrell, with Castor’s minion and Captain Aveeno. The emperor was very pleased to learn you lived and had overcome such evil. So too was General Treim.”
“General Treim?” Stiger had forgotten he’d sent two of Eli’s scouts back from Vrell, before the enemy had completely sealed and closed the road. It was good to know the emperor knew that, unlike the Southern legions, he had done his duty. In fact, Stiger found it quite a relief.
“I had the honor of meeting your General Treim,” Tenya’Far explained. “He too was pleased you live. Though it certainly appears,” Tenya’Far said, with a glance to Salt and then to Taha’Leeth, “more has occurred that we did not know of or, for that matter, could anticipate.”
“That is an understatement,” Stiger said, thinking this a fantastical turn of events.
“Legate, your emperor gave me this letter for you.” Tenya’Far withdrew a letter from behind his armor and handed it over. Stiger saw the emperor’s mark was plain on the wax seal, which was unbroken. “He asked that you read it in private.”
Stiger glanced down at it and then back up at Eli’s father. It occurred to him that more was going on than simply help being dispatched. Delvaris’s own letter, delivered by the late Garrack, had said that the current emperor would support Atticus’s order, promoting Stiger to legate. He’d not understood how that would happen and had worried about it more than a little. He had been concerned that Tioclesion would not endorse what he’d done. However, Tenya’Far’s presence said otherwise, and so too did the letter.
The gravity of what was occurring suddenly slammed home. The emperor had sent elves to his aid. Since the campaign in the Wilds, Eli’s people had stood apart from the empire. And yet, now it seemed they had come to help. They had rejoined the empire and it appeared were now willingly fighting alongside her legions. Tenya’Far had also referred to Stiger by his current rank. Stiger glanced down at the letter again, flipping it over. On the other side, it was addressed to Bennulius Stiger, Legate of the Thirteenth Legion.
“In truth,” Tenya’Far said, “we had thought you only had a few men, perhaps at most a thousand. We did not guess you had an entire legion at your back and then some.”
“I’ve been busy,” Stiger said, the answer sounding somewhat inadequate to his ears, as his excitement suddenly grew at the news.
“It certainly seems so,” Tenya’Far said. “From what my son tells me, you also restored the Second Compact and the dwarves marched ahead of you.”
“The Second Compact?” Stiger asked, confused, then understanding dawned on the second part of what Eli’s father had said. “Wait a moment, you did not pass by Braddock and his army?”
“No,” Tenya’Far said, “we did not come by way of the Vrell road.”
“We traveled a more direct route,” the scarred elf said. “So much so that we had to chase after you. We went straight to Vrell. However, you were no longer there.”
“Elves don’t need roads,” Stiger said, thinking that Tenya’Far and his warriors had gone directly through the forest to get to Vrell.
Tenya’Far inclined his head slightly, then turned to the other elf with him. “May I introduce Teden’Thor, my second in command.”
“It is an honor to meet you, Teden’Thor,” Stiger said, studying the elf and thinking he had the look of a fighter about him. The terrible scars were a testament to past fights, perhaps hundreds, if not thousands of years ago. Stiger then turned back to Eli’s father. “How many did you bring with you?”
“Sixteen hundred warriors,” Tenya’Far said. “We come to fight alongside you, for we would not have the Cyphan triumph over the empire”—the elf paused a long moment—“if you will have us.”
“Sixteen hundred?” Stiger was astonished. “All warriors?”
“Warriors all,” Tenya’Far confirmed. “Ten thousand of our best warriors marched out of our homeland a few months back. I would have brought more, but the warden thought it prudent the rest of our army would be better served helping to defend the empire. Sixteen hundred is all she and your emperor would allow me to bring this far south.”
Stiger sucked in a breath. He shook his head slightly in dismay.
“Your warriors are very welcome,” Salt said. “We need all the help we can get.”
“Yes, I am grateful you have come,” Stiger said, after a long moment. “Truly grateful. How far away is your main body?”
“About two miles from this spot,” Teden’Thor said. “We did not want to alarm you by bringing them any closer.”
Stiger glanced over to Salt, who shot him a grin in reply.
Dog moved forward toward Eli’s father. For the first time, the elf’s gaze went to the animal. Stiger thought he read shock, for Tenya’Far stiffened ever so slightly. The elf recovered quickly. He held out a tentative hand for Dog to sniff. After a moment of doing so, Dog gave a single lick to Tenya’Far’s hand, then returned to Stiger’s side, sitting down.
“I think he approves of you, Father,” Eli said. “One of the few dogs to do so.”
“This is no normal dog,” Tenya’Far said to his son.
“No, he’s not,” Taha’Leeth said and then gestured to Stiger, “and then my mate is no average human either.”
Tenya’Far’s gaze snapped to Taha’Leeth in clear surprise, if not shock. After a heartbeat or two, his expression hardened like cold granite, before shifting over to Stiger. There was an intensity in the elf’s eyes that Stiger did not like.
“Mate?” Tenya’Far asked in Elven, returning his gaze to Taha’Leeth. “You two have mated? This cannot be true. Tell me it is not so.”
Stiger knew Tenya’Far was using Elven to exclude Salt and Severus. More concerning to Stiger was that Eli’s father had directly questioned the word of another elf, which he understood to be a terrible insult. Taha’Leeth became still. Stiger felt a bubble of anger pulse within his breast.
“It is,” Stiger answered in Common, before
Taha’Leeth could respond. “Taha’Leeth and I are lovers, mates if you will. We fully intend to spend the rest of our lives together…for however long that is.”
Salt’s expression hardened a tad as understanding sank in about what Tenya’Far had questioned. Eli shifted uncomfortably, looking between them. Tenya’Far’s gaze shifted over to Stiger, before he shared a look with Teden’Thor.
“Do you have a problem with that?” Stiger asked, fully recalling Eli’s warning, back at Castle Vrell. “Best say so now and get it out in the open.”
“I do,” Tenya’Far said, this time in Common. The elf’s voice was cold, harsh even. “However, that will not stop me from performing my duty. At the behest of the warden, I am here to support you. Distaste aside, that is what I shall do.”
“Very good,” Stiger said. “I am pleased we understand one another.”
“Do we?” Tenya’Far asked. “I doubt that very much. It will be for the warden to decide how we, as a people, respond to this…this abomination of a union.” He made the word union sound dirty.
Stiger’s anger surged.
“No,” Taha’Leeth said, “it is not your warden’s decision and never will be. It is ours alone. You may be kin, but you have no say over me or my people. Understand that now. If I need to explain it to your warden, then I shall do so.”
Tenya’Far’s gaze rested unhappily on Taha’Leeth. “Eli tells me your people are coming. I doubt very many of them will be pleased by your actions, Rasensa, when they learn of what you have done.”
Stiger did not know the Elven word Tenya’Far had used. He scowled, suspecting Taha’Leeth had just been terribly insulted. He made a mental note to ask her about it later.
“That is none of your concern,” Taha’Leeth said. “I suggest you not seek to interfere, if you know what is good for you.”
Tenya’Far looked about to reply, when Teden’Thor laid a hand upon his forearm. Eli’s father glanced over at his second in command. A sort of silent communication passed between them. Then Tenya’Far gave a nod and returned his attention to Stiger. There was no hint of emotion on the elf’s face, no sign of the outrage.
That just pissed off Stiger even more. Why couldn’t things ever be easy? Then, Dog growled. It was filled with terrible menace and directed at Tenya’Far.
“Perhaps, Father,” Eli said in a tone that was almost mocking, “Dog has changed his opinion of you. That or he doesn’t approve of your position concerning their union.”
Tenya’Far’s gaze snapped to his son, anger returning and plain for all to see. Stiger rubbed the back of his neck, acutely feeling his frustration at the situation.
Dog’s growl intensified and the animal stood, baring his teeth at the elf.
“Dog,” Stiger said, before things escalated further, “down.”
Dog sat back down. The growling stopped, but the animal’s entire attention was focused on Tenya’Far.
“Father, I don’t think it wise to get on the wrong side of a naverum,” Eli added, with the trace of a smile, “especially when the creature is Ben’s guardian. Such behavior might just prove unhealthy. It would be a shame to have to tell Mother that you died prematurely due to rudeness. Then again”—Eli gave a shrug of his shoulders—“she might welcome the news of your passing. Who knows? Mother is like that.”
Feeling a headache coming on, Stiger closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Nothing was ever easy, and his allies, elves now included, were the proof of that. He did not need this, not now when they were just days from leaving the forest behind.
“Legate,” Tenya’Far said, with barely suppressed rage, “with your permission, I will bring my warriors into your encampment.”
“Your warriors are more than welcome to join us,” Stiger said.
Tenya’Far put his helmet on and then, with Teden’Thor following, swept from the tent.
“Do you always have to poke the bear?” Stiger asked Eli, after they’d gone.
“That could have gone worse,” Eli said.
“Eli, I believe you meant the word better,” Salt said, correcting the elf.
“No, I meant worse,” Eli said and jerked a thumb at Stiger. “He could be marrying my sister.”
Taha’Leeth threw an unhappy scowl at Eli.
“You don’t have a sister,” Stiger said, running a hand through his hair.
“Oh right,” Eli said. “Thank you for reminding me.”
Stiger turned his gaze in the direction Tenya’Far had gone. His anger drained away and the excitement abruptly returned. His army was growing. Dwarves, gnomes, and now the elves had come. The enemy, when he found them, would be in for a shock.
FOURTEEN
Stiger ducked into his personal tent, with Taha’Leeth following close behind. He tossed the emperor’s unopened letter onto his desk and sat down on a stool. He still couldn’t believe that Eli’s father had brought sixteen hundred elven warriors with him. It seemed so unreal, such an impossible thing to have happened, and Taha’Leeth’s people had not even begun to arrive yet. He blew out a long breath and felt a wave of weariness wash over him.
“Great gods, I’m tired,” Stiger said, rubbing at his eyes. “I mean truly tired, and not just from the continual marching.”
Outside, the morning horn sounded in one long, continuous blast that lasted a ten count. The legion’s day had begun and so too would Stiger’s when Nepturus brought the morning reports by.
It had been much easier when he’d only commanded a company. He almost groaned at the thought of all that would soon be awaiting him at headquarters, and he’d just left it, getting only a partial night’s sleep. Marching was always a welcome relief from the administrative work, but as the miles wore on, that brought its own physical trials. Everything combined to wear him out.
“You need sleep,” Taha’Leeth said, eying him, “more than you are getting now.”
“There is too much that needs doing,” Stiger said.
“That sounds like an excuse.” Taha’Leeth poured herself a mug of wine. She set the wine jar back down on the table by his cot and turned back to face him. “I thought you weren’t one who tolerated excuses?”
Stifling a yawn, Stiger did not bother to respond. Instead he attempted to change the subject. “A coffee would be nice about now.”
“Is that your way of asking me to get you some coffee? Like a good little wife? I think not.” Taha’Leeth crossed her arms. “I believe you have a servant for fetching you what you want. Venthus is his name.”
“It was just a comment, not a request.” Stiger held up both hands, feeling very weary. Before he joined the march this day, he needed some sleep. That was for certain. Maybe he could sneak in an hour or two? There were advantages to being in command.
“I know,” Taha’Leeth said, with a sly smile, “I am teasing you, my lover.”
Stiger chuckled. “Don’t tell me you are going to do your best to drive me insane? Just like Eli? You know, he views it as his mission in life to push me over the edge. I don’t think I could handle that, not with you.”
“No,” Taha’Leeth said. “My intent is to make you happy.”
“Happy?” Stiger asked himself and marveled at the thought of being happy, content even, with no worries. The last time he had experienced such feelings had been with Sarai. Still, as he gazed upon Taha’Leeth, he realized that she had begun making him happy.
“I like Eli,” Taha’Leeth said, approaching the desk. “He reminds me of my brother.”
“You have a brother?” Stiger asked. He wondered if she had any other siblings.
“I did,” Taha’Leeth said, her face clouding. “He passed many years ago.”
“I am sorry for that,” Stiger said and truly he was. She, like him, had suffered terribly. Perhaps when all this madness was behind them, they could find peace, contentment, and happiness in each other’s company. Somewhere quiet and without too many responsibilities, he thought. Was that too much to ask?
Taha’Leeth b
rightened. “He lived life to its most and had a fine sense of humor, very much like your Eli.”
“What was his name?” Stiger asked.
“Aren’Leeth,” she said. “He too pushed his father to the edge of madness, and sometimes me also.” She paused, her gaze becoming briefly unfocused, as if she were reliving the past. “I think you would have liked him and he you.”
“Would he have accepted us,” Stiger asked, “being together?”
Taha’Leeth was silent for several heartbeats. When she spoke, her voice was a near whisper. “I like to think he would, after he understood the why of it. Still, he died on another world, long before my people became enslaved. Things…now are different than they once were. At that time in my life, being with you would have been worse than repugnant.” She gave a shrug of her shoulders. “I would have killed you first rather than share your bed.”
“It’s good things change, then,” Stiger said.
“They do. All it takes is time.”
“Rasensa?” Stiger asked. “What does that word mean? I have never heard of it before today.”
Taha’Leeth took a sip of her wine as she regarded him. “It represents my responsibility, my burden to bear. Eli’s warden’s title is Elantric. That has its own meaning. Amongst my people, I am the Rasensa, opposite of the Elantric.”
“The Rasensa Warden?” Stiger asked. “Eli did tell me your role is somewhat different than the warden’s and yet you have the same title?”
“No, I am not a warden.” Taha’Leeth took another sip of the wine and appeared to savor it for several heartbeats. “The gods never saw fit to grant me Will over the occult. What they gifted was very different in nature and being. I am, instead, the Rasensa Sovereign.”
Stiger leaned back on his stool, studying her. “So, you are like a queen?”
“Not quite,” Taha’Leeth said. “However, it is a close approximation. My people call me the sovereign. I am considered by the Cyphan to be the ruler of my people, but it is not the same as being a queen. My authority is not nearly so absolute, nor would I wish it to be. Think of me as a respected and wise leader, one who guides our council and settles disputes amongst the elders.”
The Tiger’s Wrath (Chronicles of An Imperial Legionary Officer Book 5) Page 25
