by Tara Grayce
Back in Escarland, it would’ve been a great shot. Here in Tarenhiel, it looked paltry compared to Jalissa’s ease.
Essie grimaced. “At least I was close. I was worried I would miss the target altogether and really embarrass myself.”
“A troll is a big target. You would still hit somewhere in the chest. You would not kill him but maybe slow him down.” Jalissa knocked, aimed, and released another arrow. It slammed into the target so close to the first Essie wasn’t even sure how both of the arrows managed to fit in the space.
Essie swallowed. This past week at Lethoral had been pleasant, but it had been tempered with increasing reports of troll raids at the border. Any moment, Essie expected a message to come over the network of roots that served like telegraph lines, calling for Farrendel to come to the border.
Both Farrendel and King Weylind had grown increasingly tense. Even now, Farrendel was scouting the forest around Lethoral, instead of relaxing as he had on the first day.
He’d told her to relax. Not to worry. As if she could, with him tense as a bowstring.
She picked out another arrow and made her shot. This one thudded into one of the outer rings. She winced. Even worse. At least Farrendel wasn’t here watching her embarrass herself with her archery skills.
As Jalissa reached for another arrow, Farrendel dashed from the forest, his twin swords strapped to his back and his hair flying behind him. He skidded to a halt next to them. “Get inside. Now.” He didn’t wait for them to follow his orders but raced past them.
Jalissa grabbed her bundle of arrows and ran toward the shed. Essie scooped up her own handful of arrows and followed Jalissa. Inside the shed, Jalissa snagged armloads of arrows. Essie quickly joined her, grabbing as many arrows as she could carry.
“We need to go.” Jalissa gripped her bow and bundles of arrows in both arms. She led the way from the shed and raced for the stairs to Lethorel.
Essie followed, struggling to keep up with her shorter legs while carrying the armload of arrows. As she reached the base of the stairs, the ten guards deployed in front of Lethorel. Essie huffed as she ran up the stairs—the far too steep and small steps without handrails. But she couldn’t think of that now.
As she reached the top platform, branches sprang across the opening of the stairs, blocking it off.
What was going on? Were they under attack? Lethorel wasn’t anywhere near the border, even if it was closer than Estyra. Surely the trolls hadn’t gotten this far into Tarenhiel?
Essie found Jalissa kneeling beside one of the windows overlooking the forest. When Essie peered out the window, she could just make out the line of guards standing below with King Weylind in their center. Where was Farrendel?
Jalissa nocked an arrow to her bow but didn’t draw it.
Essie also nocked an arrow, her heart pounding in her throat. “What’s going on?”
That’s when she heard it. A howling, growling sound rose from deeper in the forest, followed by a crashing of undergrowth.
Jalissa remained tense as she stared out the window. “Trolls.”
Essie swallowed and let out a long breath, trying to keep her heart from pounding. “How did they get this far from the border?”
“We do not know.” Jalissa’s knuckles whitened on her bow.
This wasn’t good.
The howling sound grew louder. Gray-white shapes moved between the trees. In a moment, a troll stepped around a tree. He was dressed in gray clothing only slightly darker than his grayish skin. His dark hair was cropped short over ears that had less of a point than elven ears, but more tapered than human ears. Two more trolls stepped up on either side of him. They focused on the line of elves standing in front of Lethorel, raised their weapons, and let loose with their undulating howl again.
Goosebumps raised on Essie’s arms. She’d never seen trolls before. Tarenhiel always stood between her kingdom and the raiding trolls. And, for years, she and everyone else in her kingdom hadn’t given that much thought. The elves were their enemies, and they didn’t care if the elves and trolls fought as long as it didn’t bother Escarland.
What happened if the elves were overrun? The elves were mighty warriors, especially with their magic. But they were not numerous, even though they lived so long. Elf couples tended to only have a few children for all the hundreds of years they lived. And the wars with both the trolls and Escarland had depleted their numbers. What would another war do?
These trolls could be at her people’s doorstep next. And that was something Essie couldn’t let happen.
More trolls appeared from the forest. Ten. Twenty. Thirty.
The elves had ten guards. King Weylind. Farrendel. A few servants. Jalissa and Essie. That was it. Against thirty trolls.
Essie flexed her fingers on the bow in her hand. Her palms were sweaty. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Was this what fear felt like? She’d always wondered what her father had felt in those last few minutes walking into battle. Was he scared thinking this might be the end? Did he have time in his final moments to realize he was about to die? Or had it been over too fast for him to know?
“Do not worry.” Jalissa glanced at Essie. “Farrendel can handle them.”
Farrendel? By himself?
Essie drew in a deep breath and peeked out the window once again. Her heart flipped into her stomach as she spotted Farrendel striding forward, all alone.
He wasn’t running, but there was something in the way he walked. He was stalking forward, like a cat hunting its prey.
The trolls rushed forward, brandishing their weapons and howling their war cries.
“Why isn’t anyone else going to help Farrendel? He’s Laesornysh, I know but...” Essie stared at Farrendel, standing there alone as the trolls rushed forward.
“Farrendel needs room to fight.” Jalissa still didn’t draw the bow back, even though the first of the trolls was now within range.
In a blur of movement, Farrendel drew both of his swords. A crackle filled the air, and a blue light coursed down the sword blades.
Essie gasped at the raw power filling the air, so thick it filled her lungs each time she breathed in.
Farrendel surged forward. His swords blurred as he sliced through the first two trolls. As he did, a surge of power sizzled and blue bolts struck three more trolls. Even as those five trolls toppled to the ground, Farrendel launched himself off one of the falling bodies, spun in the air, stabbed two more trolls, flipped, and took two more trolls down.
Essie could only gape as the power around Farrendel continued to build.
Not Farrendel. Laesornysh. Death on the wind. Now Essie truly understood what that meant. He was terrifying. Power crackled around him, destroying any of the trolls that came too close. That explained why no one, not even his allies, could get close, not even to protect his back.
One of the trolls raised a musket and fired, releasing a cloud of powder smoke. Essie couldn’t see the bullet, but something sparked in Farrendel’s magic. As if his magic had incinerated the bullet before it could get to him.
Several of the trolls circled around Farrendel. Jalissa raised her bow and released. One of the trolls fell, an arrow between his shoulder blades. Two other trolls also fell to arrows, and Essie leaned to see the guards and King Weylind below. Two of the guards held bows and were reaching for more arrows.
Should she also shoot? She didn’t trust her skills enough to shoot anywhere near Farrendel. But she also didn’t like the helplessness of sitting there doing nothing while Farrendel fought. Then again, King Weylind and his guards were standing back and doing nothing but making sure none of the trolls got past Farrendel.
Now if Essie had a rifle in her hands, then she might be able to do something.
Not that anything needed to be done. Only three trolls remained, and all of them pressed forward, raising muskets and firing at Farrendel, even though they had to know this was a losing battle. Why didn’t they surrender? Or run?
But they kept fig
hting. Even as an arrow slammed into one and Farrendel’s sizzling power blasted another. Farrendel drove his sword into the chest of the last remaining troll. The troll fell, leaving Farrendel standing, blood spattered and alone, in the center of a ring of dead bodies.
Jalissa relaxed and set the arrow aside. “It is over.”
Essie glanced over the windowsill. Farrendel had lowered his swords, but he was still standing there, head bowed. And Essie wasn’t so sure.
As soon as the barrier was taken down, Essie rushed down the stairs. Five of the guards were moving among the trolls while the other five were still standing guard. King Weylind was pacing a few yards away from the lake. Farrendel was nowhere in sight.
Essie marched to King Weylind. “Where’s Farrendel?”
King Weylind tilted his head toward the lake, the area under Essie and Farrendel’s room that was obscured by a stand of underbrush. As Essie started in that direction, King Weylind moved to block her path. “You cannot see him right now. He wants space after a battle.”
Essie crossed her arms. Once again, Farrendel’s siblings were playing hard and stubborn with her. And she wasn’t in the mood for it. “Look. I know you just want to protect Farrendel. And I know you watched Farrendel grow up and all that. But I’m his wife. I know him. Please accept that. Now I’m going to see my husband, understand?”
King Weylind didn’t move. “Do not startle him. I do not want to deal with the consequences if he accidentally kills you.”
She nearly said something bold like he would never hurt me. But she wasn’t sure that was true. It wasn’t that she was afraid of Farrendel. But, after that battle...
She’d promised him she’d stand by him. That she wouldn’t flinch away from his scars or his nightmares or anything about who he was. She wasn’t going to turn away now.
She dipped her head in a small nod. “I will be careful.”
King Weylind stepped aside. “Very well. When Farrendel is ready, please let him know we need to talk.”
Essie couldn’t read the expression on his face. She wasn’t sure if she’d convinced him or if he figured she wouldn’t be able to do much harm, puny human that she was. Whatever his reasons, Essie didn’t care. She hurried around him.
At the stand of underbrush, she slowed her pace. “Farrendel? It’s me. Essie.”
“Leave.” Farrendel’s voice had a growl. A dangerous sort of growl that should’ve made her turn around and follow the command.
“Farrendel, I’m not leaving you.” Essie walked around the bushes. Slowly, but keeping her footsteps loud so she didn’t startle him. After that display of his magic, she didn’t want to spook him while battle was still coursing through his body.
On the other side, Farrendel knelt beside the lake, his blood-spattered shirt clenched in his fists. He was still as a statue, not looking at her. “Leave. Please.”
That please stopped her. Should she leave as he was asking her to? “I will go if you truly want me to. But please know you don’t have to be alone. I’m here for you.”
He was still, as if frozen there with his fists in the shallows and blood still smeared across his face and speckled in his hair. Then a shudder trembled down his back. He hunched over the water, his hands shaking, as he scrubbed his shirt over his arms.
Essie crept closer and knelt on the pebbles next to him. She simply sat there. Words now would make things worse.
Farrendel scrubbed at his arm with his shirt, rubbing until his skin grew red and raw.
Essie rested her hand on his, halting his frantic movements.
His silver-blue eyes lifted to hers, but something in his expression was wild. Shaking. “I can’t...can’t get clean.” His breaths came faster, shuddering through his whole body.
“I know. I know.” Essie eased his fingers from his shirt. “Let me help.”
When he remained still, she lifted his dripping shirt and wiped the spatters of blood from his face. She started on the blood on his jaw, moving up to his cheek and then his ear. She had to wet his shirt several times to continue dabbing away the blood, but he stayed still beneath her fingers. The longer she worked, the more his shaking subsided.
When he met her gaze again, the wildness had left his expression, though he had a hint of wariness about him. He reached up and rested his fingers over her hand where she had been dabbing at a blood smear across his neck. “I have been dreading the day you would see my magic. I did not know how you would react. My magic is not...” He trailed off, as if he wasn’t sure what to call it. “Most have magic that grows and creates. Mine destroys.”
One more thing to make Farrendel feel different. As if being the illegitimate prince wasn’t bad enough. As if pushing himself to earn his place wasn’t enough pressure. He also had this powerful, destructive magic that would seem out of place among the rest of the elves.
“Your magic protects. There is no shame in that.” Essie held his gaze and released his wet shirt so she could swipe her thumb across his cheek. “I care about you, Farrendel Laesornysh. All of you. Your magic and all.”
“You do not know everything about me.” Farrendel hung his head. “I...” His words faltered. Would he tell her the truth of his birth now?
But he remained silent, as if he couldn’t figure out what to say. It was probably too much too fast after the troll attack.
Even if it was time. Right now, he needed to know she wouldn’t turn away from him. Not because of his magic. Not because of his illegitimate birth.
“I know.” Essie touched his cheek again.
“You know?” Farrendel stiffened, but his gaze lifted to hers, searching her face. “That I’m a...” He spat out a word in elvish, one Essie was guessing was a derogatory term.
How many times had he had that word spat at him while he was just a child? Yes, his father had done wrong. His mother had done wrong. But none of the blame lay on Farrendel. He should not bear the punishment for his parents’ mistakes.
“Your grandmother told me. On my third day here.” Essie held his gaze. This moment felt fragile. As if one move the wrong way could shatter everything they’d built.
Farrendel’s gaze slipped away from hers, his shoulders slumping. “I am sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?” Essie cradled his face in both of her hands. Even when she tipped his face up, he still wouldn’t look at her. She traced her thumb over the scars on his cheek. “It’s not your fault, Farrendel. None of the mistakes are yours. You can’t help how you were born.”
“I am still tainted.” Farrendel held up his hands. Blood still crusted underneath his fingernails and in the creases of his palms.
“You are your father’s son, no matter how it happened. He acknowledged you and raised you as one of the family, as you deserve to be. That makes you a prince of the elves.” Essie eased closer. She needed Farrendel to listen. “No matter your magic. No matter your birth. No matter what anyone says. You are not tainted.”
With her hands on his cheeks, she felt his muscles relax.
Farrendel took her hand and squeezed her fingers. “Linshi.”
“Of course.” She reluctantly withdrew her hands. “Your brother said to talk to him as soon as you were ready. He sounded serious. Well, more serious than usual.”
Farrendel nodded, picked up his sopping shirt, and eased to his feet. He eyed his shirt, blood spattered and dripping wet, as if he was trying to decide if he should put it on to hide his scars. After a moment, he wrung it out but didn’t put it on. Instead, he gathered his tunic, belt, and swords and straightened his shoulders as if finishing pulling himself together.
Essie fell into step with Farrendel as he strode around the bushes to where King Weylind still waited, pacing.
As soon as he glanced in their direction, King Weylind stopped pacing. Something changed in his expression, though Essie couldn’t exactly say what it was. Either way, he still looked grim.
They had been attacked by thirty trolls, but a tightening in her gut told her it had onl
y been the beginning.
FARRENDEL FACED his brother. “There is more to this attack.”
Essie tucked herself close to Farrendel, not wanting to be excluded from whatever King Weylind had to say.
King Weylind’s gaze flicked to Essie, and his jaw tightened, but he didn’t try to order her to leave. “This attack should have been larger.”
Essie glanced to Farrendel. What was she missing?
Farrendel met her gaze. “A patrol stumbled across evidence that a large group of trolls had killed the border guards and disappeared deep into the trees. Their numbers were suspected to be over a hundred. We did not think they would reach this far into Tarenhiel.”
“And we were attacked by only thirty.” Essie shifted even closer to Farrendel. That meant there were roughly seventy to a hundred trolls wandering around Tarenhiel and no one knew where they were.
Why had these thirty trolls attacked here? It could have been random. Yet, they would have passed many villages to get here.
But the trolls had headed straight for Lethorel. That meant they knew where it was and that most of the elven royal family was here, only lightly guarded. Yet how would they know that information?
“If they had over a hundred, why did they attack with only thirty? Surely they know thirty wasn’t enough with Farrendel here?” Essie glanced from King Weylind to Farrendel. The two of them had probably already processed all of the implications, but she wasn’t trained for war. Nor had her kingdom fought the trolls the way the elves had. “Why did they keep fighting when it was obvious they were about to be wiped out?”
Farrendel’s shoulders slumped, and he glanced at the dead bodies soaking the grass with blood. “This attack was most likely meant to flush us from Lethorel into a trap on the trail. These trolls knew they were going to die.”
“And yet they still attacked?” Essie couldn’t wrap her mind around it. “I didn’t think the trolls were that...fanatic.”
“They are not.” King Weylind shook his head, his gaze also straying to the dead trolls. “But they value honor. Perhaps these trolls had done something to disgrace themselves and their family. A death in battle would be the easiest way to redeem that honor.”
