Bloodless

by Roberto Vecchi

  “Are you done yet?” asked The King. “We must be on our way and it will not do well for you to arrive sickly from the chill. You had best compose yourself quickly, put your long coat back on, and return to the carriage,” he paused for just a moment, “without tripping, that is.”

  “Yes, Drahin,” managed a wheezing Eriboth. As he gained enough strength to prop himself onto one of his elbows, his handmaiden, Lolilian moved to assist him. However, just as she was about to bend down and help the young prince stand, she was halted by a firm but soft voice from within the carriage, “Leave him. He will learn to stand on his own.”

  “Yes, My Lord,” she said and ascended the steps to disappear inside the ornate door.

  Eriboth laid on his back for perhaps another moment or two, and then boosted himself to his feet. Had the King and ruling Lord of House Dordrosis not treated the elder prince in the same manner as he treated Eriboth, it would have been natural for him to resent his father’s cold detachment. But as it was, their treatment was so equal that it left Eriboth no excuse to blame any perceived mistreatment on the fact that he was not an elf. He knew his Drahin wanted only the best for him, but it was at times like these when he doubted his father’s caring beyond anything except how adept his sons were at portraying elven discipline and etiquette. Before climbing the stairs, the young prince took a deep breath followed by a deep exhalation causing a mist in the air.

  Though he could not see it, he knew his exhalation produced the same amount of breath formed steam as it had years and years ago. But that was where the similarities both began and ended between both days. There was nothing about this journey that contained anything similar to the particular one of his childhood. Well, that was not entirely true, he corrected his thoughts. He was riding in a carriage with windows, but while the Royal Carriage of the elves had its windows located on the sides to provide its passengers with an ample view of the scenery, this carriage had its only window situated on the rear door. Likewise, while he was accompanied by the King on both of his past and present journeys as well as a rather large contingency of the Royal Guard, their respective dispositions contrasted the other. None of those escorting him today were concerned with his ultimate well-being and success. No, their concern for him extended only as far as the judgment they would issue followed by the successful execution of his sentence; a death sentence.

  “He will learn to stand on his own,” he heard his late father’s words echo in his mind as they met yet another patch of rough road. And though his father, through his actions and insistence, portrayed this as the most important lesson his princes could learn, the better portion of his adult life indicated it was not as much a universal truth to success as it was a personal preference meant to emphasize the importance of perseverance. Most notably and most recently, he found that if he did not rely on another, he would not be alive today. Had it not been for the direct intervention of the man called Jesus, then he would be dead, left alone to drift amongst the stars, or the mists, or the void, or even worse. But because of his acceptance and surrender to an entity greater than himself, greater than anything else, he found the strength to rise and stand again. For greater was this Man than the entirety of the elves. Greater was His love, greater was His esteem, and greater was His worthiness. And as contrary to his late father’s words as it was, Eriboth found the greatest portion of his strength and competence was in this Man, who, for all practical and impractical purposes, saved him.

  However much he was convinced Jesus’s love was without limits, as was His ability, he still wondered how and why their plans had failed resulting in his capture by Lord Hinthial. They had taken every precaution, planned their strategy methodically, and executed it flawlessly. But even then, the Elf Lord’s reach extended further than what either of the three of them anticipated. Yet, how could they anticipate it? Because they had erred and failed to understand just how treacherous Lord Hinthial was, their plans were rendered fruitless. Had it not been for Eriboth’s insistence that he forcefully coerced both Nadalize and Geromain to assist him, they would be facing a very similar fate. But such as it was, Eriboth was unable to watch his longtime friend and her husband suffer because of him. So, he agreed to a quiet and resistless incarceration providing no charges would be brought against his two accomplices.

  At first, King Yahnaros was disinclined to accept Eriboth’s singular term sighting the combined forces of his and Lord Hinthial’s Royal Guard as evidence that neither of the three were in a position to bargain, but when he was reminded of Eriboth’s legendary skill, though reluctantly and through no small amount of persuasion from the Elves, he acquiesced.

  As the chains were placed around Eriboth’s wrists and ankles, then locked to chains around his waist and neck, Lord Hinthial leaned in close to him and said, “My dear Eriboth. Did you not think we would find and capture you? Look around you. Please, take a minute to look around. Gathered here are both races you once claimed membership within. But today, in this very moment, understand that you now belong to neither. You are alone, Eriboth. You are alone, and you belong to me.”

  As he turned his pure white eyes to stare deeply into those of Lord Hinthial, penetrating more deeply than physical vision ever could, he said very softly so that only his capture could hear, “No, Lord Hinthial. I am not alone. I belong to Him.” As Eriboth was led away, bound and chained, he heard laughter from the Lord of the Elves, a great and hearty laughter that bellowed far into the distance.

  “You there,” said a loud voice from outside of his mobile prison temporarily interrupting Eriboth’s considerations, “Get up. The King has called for a halt to make camp tonight.” Eriboth slowly opened his eyes and turned his attention to the guard given direct responsibility over him.

  “Thank you,” he said softly.

  “Do not thank me, traitor. I do not care for you. I care only that you are judged,” said the guard coldly.

  “Nevertheless, thank you,” returned Eriboth.

  It did not require much time for the large contingency of Elves to break down their equipment, as extensive as it was, and finish their camp. Such was their training and discipline that everyone had and completely knew their roles. Eriboth could hear and feel the symphony of preparations occurring around him and was forced to marvel at the precision with which the elves did everything. It seemed that no detail was left to the inefficiency of spontaneous decisions. Tents were erected quickly, fires were set superbly, and meals were prepared expertly. There was, indeed, no lack of execution and no wasting of energy in the elves he was traveling with. However, when he extended his senses to their defensive measures, he found a few areas had been left open and were vulnerable. But when he brought his assessment to the guard, it was dismissed as part of a rouse to create chaos and foster an environment wherein Eriboth would be able to escape. So, his rather well-founded warning went no further than his direct captor.

  The evening progressed into night and the normally lively and energetic elves remained much less animated than what he had grown to expect. Though it was true he had not traveled with them in some time, he had not thought their expression would have changed much at all because nothing within elvish culture changed unless there was an overwhelming indication that change was needed to uphold elven identity. But when he did not hear the gentle mandolins and lutes accompanied by the voices of the evening’s devotions, he understood that the elves he had known were slowly changing.

  “Why is there no music?” he asked the guard dutifully standing watch over him, chained as he was. But when the elf guard did not answer, Eriboth rephrased his question, “Where are the lutes, and mandolins, and voices? I expected the evening worship of the stars to have begun and ended already, or have they been abandoned too?”

  “Be quiet,” answered the guard.

  “I apologize. My inquiry was innocent and meant only to educate myself. But, do you not find it odd that there is an absence of elvish character in this progression?” asked Eriboth again. He coul
d sense some discontent within his guard, but his discernment was incomplete toward its cause.

  “I told you to be quiet. You are not allowed to speak by order of King Hinthial,” answered the guard coldly.

  “So, it is King now? What of Queen Glinovia and House Dordrosis? Is it not still the ruling house?” Eriboth asked as he adjusted his position to relieve the pressure of a small rock.

  “You have not heard,” said the guard, a small grin forming on his lips. “The Queen, and all of House Dordrosis, has been found guilty of treason against the Stars,” said the guard, not attempting to hide his satisfaction from Eriboth.

  “Queen Glinovia a traitor? She had no knowledge of myself until I presented myself to the council. Nor has she ever acted in a manner to suggest anything but the utmost loyalty to Elf and Stars alike. Clearly these charges are erroneous,” he said, challenging the guard.

  “That is not for me to say. Though it should be known that Lady Soliana has also been found guilty of high treason. Her sentence was levied the very moment she escaped with you,” the guard said ominously looking down to the seated Eriboth.

  “Was there a trial? The Stars demand that each citizen receive a trial with equal representation for each case,” he asked.

  “You answered your own question, traitor. In order for there to have been a trial, the Princess had to have been considered an elf. But her status within elfish culture was revoked by the Council of Lords prior to any formal charges,” the guard said as he leaned against a tree.

  Eriboth knew the Council of Lords existed as a precaution against the current ruling house from diverging from the Way of the Stars, but never had it actually been called upon. There were times when it was rumored to have been attempted, but those times were revealed to have rather nefarious intentions of a simple coup de tau over the current house. For it to be successfully assembled, there had to be a unanimous agreement between all House Lords, including the ruling house. And with the turmoil within the Empire, Eriboth doubted that all of the houses would have agreed. And certainly, House Dordrosis would have stood against the charges.

  “The Council of Lords?” asked Eriboth for clarity as the guard simply smiled in taunt. “They must have also taken steps to confirm Lord Hinthial as the new King, thus elevating House Hinthial in the process.”

  “What would you have had them do? Continue to allow an obvious traitor, bent upon the degradation of Elfish culture, to remain on the throne in the wake of her very own Drahin’s treachery?”

  “I would have them not abandon reason, the pinnacle of Elven expression, in favor of fear created by unfounded accusations,” answered Eriboth calmly.

  “Reason? You think there was no reason or evidence guiding their decision? Their evidence was you, traitor! Your return set in motion their decision even before they deliberated. Had you bothered to ask yourself your own reason to correctly determine the full consequences of your actions, you might have been able to prevent her inclusion into your destructive wake,” shot back the guard.

  Eriboth had no immediate rebuttal as he was shocked to silence that his mere presence was the reason why Queen Glinovia was named as an accomplice to his traitorous actions. He had done simply what he felt was right. Well, what he thought was right as guided by the love of the Man named Jesus. He admitted to himself that he had not considered what his presence would mean for either Queen Glinovia or the Lady Soliana. And in truth, he had not considered anything beyond following what he believed to be right. All he had meant to do was to offer a warning to the Elves in an attempt to gain their assistance in defending the Stone Keep. He did not anticipate Lord Hinthial to be present. Nor had he anticipated their quick dismissal of his warning in favor of their need for justice, or rather, revenge.

  “You know, traitor, I was there, in the throne room when you entered with the brashness of blameless innocence. One would have thought, with the accusations heaped upon you, that you would have assumed a humbler entrance. But, your flare for the dramatic apparently has not changed,” said the guard as he walked closer to the chained man.

  “Then you heard what I said,” he said more than asked.

  “Oh, I heard you. And while your eloquence proved to be intact, I am not sure your message was founded in the logical. Really, traitor, a man?” asked the guard in mocking tone.

  “Yes, a man, The Man,” he answered.

  “And you contest this man did not only resurrect you, but made you,” he paused as he attempted to remember what Eriboth had said,” made you good?”

  “That is correct,” he answered.

  “Did you forget your teaching? Did you not know that your statements were in direct contradiction to what we are taught as the basis for the Way of the Stars,” said the guard as if Eriboth was not well versed in their doctrines.

  “Have you ever considered where The Way of the Stars came from?” asked Eriboth after a moment of consideration.

  “What of you mean?”

  “What is the standard upon which everything is weighed and measured?” asked Eriboth to follow up.

  “I am not sure I can answer your question,” stated the guard flatly.

  “Are you not educated in the doctrines as well as the martial component as part of not only the education every Elf undergoes, but also as part of the accelerated training of being in the Royal Guard of The King?” asked Eriboth.

  “You know that I am.”

  “Then how, with your extensive education, are you not prepared to answer the simplest of questions?”

  “I am prepared to answer, if you would be clear with your question,” stated the guard, defending himself against a perceived attack.

  “My dear brother, my question was quite clear,” insisted Eriboth.

  The guard considered for a moment as he attempted to ascertain Eriboth’s line of questioning and the direction their conversation was now traveling. He presumed it would no doubt lead to an attack upon the Stars. But just as he was sworn to defend The King against any and all attacks, so too was he charged with the same for The Way of the Stars. While Eriboth waited quietly, the guard prepared his answer, an answer he felt was irrefutable and would surely be one to which Eriboth would have no response. However, in the moment between his voluntary initiation of speech and the actual sound leaving his mouth, an arrow imbedded itself in a tree right next to where the guard was standing.

  As both Eriboth and the guard instantly looked in its direction seeking to identify its source, it was Eriboth who spoke, “That is certainly no elf arrow,” to which the guard shot Eriboth a challenging glance.

  “I know that,” said the guard, instantly drawing his sword.

  He did not know how he missed it before, but as he extended his senses, still unaware of how he was able to do so, though he suspected it was tied to the surrendering of his will to the man named Jesus, he clearly sensed an approaching horde of Ogres. Another arrow streaked through the air missing Eriboth by mere inches.

  “Do you not think you should send for assistance? There is a horde of ogres approaching quickly. You will not be able to stand against them,” warned Eriboth.

  “Ogres!” repeated the guard. “That is foolishness. They would not dare attack the King’s encampment openly,” he said trying to locate the source of the arrows.

  “It appears they do,” said the bound Eriboth just as a third arrow flew past the guard’s head striking with a heavy thud against the tree next to him.

  “Give me a sword and I will assist you,” said Eriboth.

  “No!”

  “Give me a sword or you will die,” he said calmly again. A fourth arrow glanced off of the guard’s helmet just enough to snap his head to the side, and apparently it was enough to persuade him with greater effect than anything Eriboth could have said in that moment. Without any more hesitation, the guard unshackled Eriboth and handed him a short blade from the sheath fastened to his thigh, frantically looking in every direction. After being freed, Eriboth stood up and raised his
head to the sky uttering a few short words just as a huge ogre warrior rushed them, exploding from the cover of the trees. The guard was the first to react and engaged the beast in melee combat. Because of the ogre’s sheer size advantage, when the two of them met blade to axe, the guard was forced to give ground. But he recovered quickly from the initial onslaught and was able to slice a deep wound to the ogre’s right thigh.

  As the guard and ogre collected themselves, two more large figures dashed toward them. This time, it was Eriboth who moved to engage them as the guard and ogre began their martial dance once again. Easily deflecting both of the ogres’ attempts to impale the white eyed warrior, Eriboth drove his blade deep into one of his attacker’s necks while grasping the other around the wrist. In one motion, he twisted it, locking its joints at the combined limits of their mobility. By stepping backward and to the side, he pulled the beast off balance swinging him around just as two more arrows thudded into its back. Like lightning, Eriboth then threw his blade into the darkness striking the chest of the Ogre archer ending his ability to use his crossbow, and his life. Continuing the momentum of his throw, Eriboth stepped back with his outside leg and continued pulling the ogre in a circle to keep him off balance. Just as the ogre was gaining his footing again, Eriboth stopped his spin and drove his freed hand into his attacker’s exposed neck causing him to gasp for breath, a gasp that would be unsuccessful at maintaining life through a shattered windpipe.