by Tara Grayce
ELVEN ALLIANCE BOOK ONE
TARA GRAYCE
FIERCE HEART
Copyright © 2019 by Tara Grayce
Taragrayce.com
Published by Sword & Cross Publishing
Grand Rapids, MI
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Cover by Savannah Jezowski of Dragonpenpress.com
Map by Amythyst_art on Fiverr
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This book is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and settings are the product of the author's over active imagination. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, events, or settings is purely coincidental or used fictitiously.
To God, my King and Father. Soli Deo Gloria
Books by Tara Grayce
Elven Alliance
Fierce Heart
War Bound
Princess by Night
Lost in Averell
Table of Contents
Books by Tara Grayce
Table of Contents
Map
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
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MAP
THE TWO DEAD ELVES laid out on tables in the town morgue were young. At least, Essie guessed they were young. It was hard to tell with elves, since they didn’t start showing their age until they were at least eight or nine hundred years old. But elves were considered young if they were less than a hundred, and there was something about the slimness of their faces, the lankiness of their bodies, that reminded Essie of teenage boys, much like her older brothers had been a few years ago.
And their actions were the actions of the young. Just two boys sneaking across the border, causing trouble. Much like that of the four teenage boys who had sneaked across the border into Tarenhiel two weeks ago. Only one of the boys returned home to Escarland.
“Essie.” Her brother Averett’s voice came from the doorway behind her. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Why not? I’m a part of this diplomatic mission too. I needed to see...” Essie didn’t turn around. She wasn’t yet ready to leave. Something in her ached, seeing the blood covering the chests and stomachs of these two young elf males. One had been shot in the chest, and the musket ball had killed him instantly. The other had been stabbed after a lengthy fight to take him down, according to the townsfolk.
Yes, definitely young. Too young to fully come into their magic and defend themselves.
Too much blood shed on both sides. Again.
Averett halted next to her. The sunlight slanting through the cracks between the building’s board slat siding glinted on the crown he wore on hair that had the good taste to be auburn instead of her indecorous, flame-red hair. “Still, you shouldn’t have to see this. I can’t believe you talked me into letting you come.”
“This is a peaceful diplomatic meeting, and my presence will help reassure the elven king of our intentions.” Essie forced herself to turn away from the bodies laid out on the tables. This was the reason they were traveling to the border their country of Escarland shared with the elven forest kingdom of Tarenhiel. To stop the escalating incidents and deaths at the border from inciting another war.
She suppressed a shudder. No one wanted another war. She’d only been three when the last war between Escarland and Tarenhiel broke out. She’d been five when it ended. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t remember.
A girl didn’t forget the moment she learned her father had been killed.
If there was anything in her power she could do to stop another young daughter from feeling the pain she had back then, she would do it.
She let a smile cross her face, as she had done so many times in the fifteen years since her father had been killed. Smile and carry on. So many others carried on with frowns or constant melancholy, but she chose to smile and keep smiling no matter what. “I’m twenty years old, Avie. If all of you hadn’t spoiled me so much, you probably would’ve already married me off to form some alliance.”
Averett grimaced, as if what she’d said pained him. “I may be the king, but I’m first and foremost your big brother. I’m not going to sacrifice my little sister to some other kingdom just for political gain. I wouldn’t ever do that to you.”
Did he have to take everything so seriously? Probably. He had become king at twelve, though Mother had been his regent until he turned eighteen. He hadn’t had a lot to smile about growing up.
Essie patted his arm. “I know you won’t. But I also know it’s the way of things. I’ve accepted my marriage will probably have some political end, and that’s all right. That’s part of being a princess. But I’ll let you know which match is acceptable to me when the time comes.” Better she picked which marriage of alliance she wanted than have Parliament try to pressure Avie into making one for her.
“Essie...” Averett looked like he was about to argue more, but one of their guards, a lieutenant based on his shoulder stripes, stuck his head into the morgue.
The lieutenant glanced at the dead elves, grimaced, then bowed as much as he could to Averett while still standing half in and half out of the doorway. “Your Majesty. Your Highness. The train’s water and coal has been resupplied. We are ready to depart when you are.”
“Thank you. Please have your squad transport the bodies to the train car we set aside for them. And see to it that the bodies are properly wrapped and cared for. I don’t want the elves to believe we handled their dead with anything less than dignity.”
“Yes, sir.” The lieutenant bowed and saluted before he popped back out the door.
Averett glanced one more time at the dead elves before he held out an arm to Essie. “If only our problem with the elves could be solved as simply as arranging a marriage alliance.”
As his words sank in, Essie nearly forgot to take his arm. Or move. That wasn’t a marriage alliance she’d ever considered. She’d always thought she’d marry into one of the other human nations around Escarland. Maybe Mongalia to the east since they had access to the ocean, and it would benefit trade to be more closely aligned with them.
But if she could secure an alliance with the elves...that would be an alliance few human countries could attain. “Do you think they would agree to a marriage alliance?”
Averett halted so fast Essie’s hand slipped from his arm. “You can’t be serious. You’d actually marry an elf?”
Essie drew her chin up higher. Once she’d been old enough, she’d taken to studying whatever she could find on elves, their culture, and their language. At first it had been a child’s way of dealing with the grief, telling herself that
if she simply learned enough, she could stop the tragedy of the war happening again.
But after a while, the studying had turned into a grudging respect. “Yes, I would. Though, I highly doubt the elves would accept, even if you made the offer. They see humans as beneath them and, while sometimes elves do marry humans, I highly doubt an elf among the royal family would deign to do so.”
Averett held out his arm again and started walking once she took it. He remained silent as they left the morgue, waved to the townsfolk one more time, and climbed into their train car, the second car after the steam locomotive and a car full of guards.
Once they were seated across from each other on one of the padded benches, alone in the car as they waited for the lieutenant and his men to load the bodies of the elves, Averett turned to her, something speculative in his gaze. “You know, it might not hurt to offer a marriage alliance. It would be a good way to show that I’m serious about peace if I’m offering my own sister for an alliance. When they refuse, I can ask what elven gesture of peace they would suggest since they rejected the gesture of peace my people deem culturally appropriate. It would force them to make an effort in this negotiation. Too often elves just sit back and let us humans squirm and make all the concessions. I’ll run it by Master Wendee once the train gets moving to the border.”
“Good idea.” Master Wendee, their chief diplomat and negotiator for situations like this, would know if that was a good opening gambit or not. Essie leaned back in the seat and studied her brother’s face. “You’re really worried about this, aren’t you?”
“Yes. Escarland can’t afford another war with the elves. Not now when we’re finally getting back on our feet after the devastation of the last war.” Averett stared out the window at the rolling cornfields, though Essie doubted he was really seeing them. “I didn’t realize it back then, but our soldiers only survived the war as long as they did because the elves’ chief warrior was kept busy with an invasion by the trolls from the north.”
“Laesornysh.” Essie hadn’t meant to, but the name came out as a whisper. It was the sort of name one didn’t just blithely say out loud. It wasn’t so much a name but a title, meaning Death on the Wind.
“Yes. The elves ended the war last time only because Laesornysh had been captured by the trolls, and they wanted to concentrate on rescuing him and defeating the trolls.” Averett shivered and looked away from the window long enough to meet her gaze. “It’s said he can take out whole packs of trolls single-handedly. We can’t afford a war against the elves if Laesornysh is fighting with them.”
A shiver raced down Essie’s back. She’d learned a respect and appreciation for most elves, but the stories she’d heard about Laesornysh...he was an assassin. A killer. He had slipped into the trolls’ capital city and killed their king. When he fought the troll armies, it wasn’t a battle. It was slaughter.
No, whatever happened, Averett needed to avoid that same slaughter for Escarland.
Even if Essie had to marry an elf to do it.
Linder Island had been chosen as the meeting place for its position roughly in the center of the Hydalla River, the border between Escarland and Tarenhiel.
Convenience was the only thing the island had going for it. Island was a generous word, considering it wasn’t much more than a rock with a gravelly beach and a few sprigs of vegetation gamely growing between the cracks in the stone. That was probably why neither Escarland or Tarenhiel had bothered to officially claim it, since it wasn’t even big enough to bother building a decent watchtower or guard post.
Essie stepped from the dinghy that had rowed them from the steamboat, since Linder Island didn’t have anything as fancy as a jetty. She had to hold her wide, puffy skirts high to keep from dipping them in the brown river water.
Her fancy slippers didn’t have enough sole to protect her feet properly from the sharp rocks of the beach. She was probably going to ungracefully twist an ankle right in front of the elven king at this rate. That would make him reject the marriage alliance proposal in half a second instead of a full second.
Across the barren rock of an island, the elven contingent was disembarking from their own small boat, though theirs appeared to have been pushed across the river by magic instead of anything as mundane as oars.
What would it be like to have that much magic at one’s fingertips all the time? A few humans had natural magic, though it was usually less strong than in the other races, like elves, dwarves, trolls, and ogres. Magical devices were more prevalent, but they were expensive and still hadn’t caught on as much as steam power, since the coal for steam was much cheaper than buying a magical device to do the same thing.
There were only four elves compared to Essie’s party of ten. She almost winced at how excessive their pack of seven guards seemed when the elven king only brought two bodyguards.
By the looks of the elven bodyguards, they could more than handle her and her brother’s guards. The bodyguard elf on the right carried a quiver across his back and a strung bow in his hand, as if prepared to whip out arrows and shoot all of them in the blink of an eye. His chestnut hair flowed over his shoulders in the light breeze, revealing the points of his ears.
The bodyguard elf on the left was an inch or two shorter than the other, though both were slim and sinewy. His angular face seemed younger than the other elves, but Essie couldn’t be sure. This elf had blond hair so pale it was nearly silver, matching the color of his flinty, blue-silver eyes. Something in those eyes was hard. Almost dead. He had a pair of slim swords strapped across his back.
A shiver raced down Essie’s back. Was this Laesornysh? That would explain why the elf king was so confident with so few bodyguards.
King Weylind, the elf king, was imposing. Long, nearly black hair flowed over his shoulders and around his long, angled face. An intricate crown of several pieces of silver woven together perched on his brow. A long, purple cape hung from his slim shoulders.
Next to the king stood the least imposing of the four elves. Something about his stance spoke that he was more academic than the other elves. Their professional diplomat, the elven version of Master Wendee.
After all the official greetings—her brother bowing, her curtsying; the elven king pressing his fingertips to his forehead—Averett motioned for their guards to set up the tent they’d brought along.
As soon as the tent was up, the chestnut-haired bodyguard elf produced a table from somewhere. Essie hadn’t even seen him carrying a pack or anything resembling a table.
At least negotiating this meeting had gone smoothly enough. They offered to bring the tent, the elves the furniture. They would both bring food and drinks for themselves. Hopefully the negotiation that all that preliminary diplomacy had arranged would go as smoothly.
In short order, she found herself seated on one side of the table next to Averett with the elf king and his diplomat beside him. Master Wendee sat on the other side of Averett.
The two elf bodyguards stood behind their king while two of Averett’s guards stood behind Averett and Essie. The rest of the guards remained outside of the tent.
King Weylind stared at Averett with dark brown eyes. Silent. Still.
Averett straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat. “We both know why we are here. The incidents lately have been deplorable, on both sides, and I have made it clear to my people, as I am sure you have to yours, that further action will not be tolerated. I have the bodies of your two young elves to return to you with due honor, as I believe you have the bodies of three of my young men.”
“The exchange will occur once our negotiations are complete.” King Weylind didn’t so much as twitch as he said it, but there was something to the tone of his voice. It was an offering of peace and a warning. If things went badly, the bodies wouldn’t be returned. He was prepared to play hard if needed.
“Things have been unsettled between our two kingdoms ever since the end of the war. After a war between two human nations, normally we would seal th
e new treaty with a marriage alliance to guarantee peace. But that is a solution your kingdom hasn’t appeared open to exploring in the past.” Averett was staring at King Weylind, as if to gauge his reaction to that.
Essie watched too and didn’t notice so much as a flicker.
“Would a marriage alliance stop the raids?”
Essie started and glanced up at the silver-haired bodyguard. Who was he to dare interrupt a discussion between kings? And why did he sound like he thought his king should consider a marriage alliance?
King Weylind tipped his head toward the bodyguard and spoke in a low tone in elvish. Essie wasn’t good enough at elvish, especially spoken elvish, to understand anything. But the first word he’d spoken...she was pretty sure it was brother.
Was that silver-haired elf more than simply a bodyguard? If he was King Weylind’s brother, then was or wasn’t he also Laesornysh?
The silver-haired elf replied in a similar, low tone.
King Weylind turned back to Averett. “Would a marriage alliance as you propose guarantee peace between our kingdoms?”
Averett’s face paled, and he glanced at Essie before facing King Weylind.
King Weylind’s mouth thinned. “Unless you were not genuine in your offer. We would take it very unkindly if your gestures of peace turn out to be empty.”
Averett appeared to be on the edge of squirming, and Master Wendee on the other side was glancing at both Averett and Essie as if he wasn’t sure what to say in this situation. The whole marriage alliance thing was supposed to be a ruse. An opening gambit.
But if the elves were serious about taking them up on the offer, this was an opportunity they couldn’t refuse.
Essie let out a long breath. It wasn’t exactly the marriage alliance she’d thought she would have, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. She found the elves and their culture fascinating. She would go to live in their fabled treetop cities, cities that few humans were allowed to visit and no full human had been allowed to live in for generations.
