Reign of the Dark Elves: Book One : The Sorcerer

by Andrew G. Wood

  Crendon was accessed via a sloping dirt track that wound around the bottom of the hill and up to a set of wooden gates. Drakon gazed up at the two elves on duty at their posts, neither of whom seemed unsurprised at seeing over a hundred soldiers on their doorstep. After explaining to one of them who he was, Commander Drakon asked to speak to the officer in charge of the outpost. The elf in question turned to one of the humans who was also based there, instructing him to pass the message on. Drakon shook his head, revealing how lackadaisical this entire settlement appeared. Granted such an out of the way place would inevitably be bereft of anything worthwhile to do. However, he also knew that if things were always this bad, it was hardly surprising the humans had never been found.

  After being made to wait for much longer than he deemed necessary, Drakon decided to forego any further formalities and instructed the guards to open the gate; he was coming in whether given permission to do so or not. At first, the two Elven guards looked at each other as if unsure what to do, but after one had shrugged his shoulders, the other just nodded seemingly thinking it was okay for them to do so. Once more the soldiers turned and shouted a command to two humans standing nearby.

  Drakon had always opposed the use of human soldiers in any way shape or form and had always thought of it as arming the enemy. While they were supposedly weakminded and thanks to some type of alchemy and magic, fully compliant to obey their Elven Masters, Drakon had seen signs of that not always being the case. As a result, he had been an advocate of not having any human armed, but alas he was not the one making the decisions. With the Dark Elves involved in so many conquests around the vast world in which they lived, it was apparently the best way to help keep those lands they had conquered.

  While there had never been a reported case of any human soldier turning against an elf giving it an order, Drakon had witnessed several occasions where such orders had to be given and threatened before they had been complied with. This, Drakon had told Saedor was a sign that the humans were perhaps not so compliant as they thought. Unfortunately, Saedor had just laughed at him and called him foolish for thinking any human they controlled would even have the courage to stand up against them. While this may have generally been the case, Drakon had seen enough in his long years to know that humans were far smarter and resilient than many elves gave them credit for. He for one was quite sure that given enough time and allowed enough freedom to do so, they would rise up, and that having them in their own ranks was folly.

  With the gates open, Drakon rode his darter up to what he presumed to be the officers quarters. These he would make his own, at least for tonight, and as he slipped down from his mount, he spotted the Elf in charge heading in his direction. Still appearing as if dressing himself, Drakon had obviously caught the officer at an awkward time, but that was something he didn’t worry about. As the elf approached, looking somewhat irate at the intrusion Drakon stood upright as most elves did to make themselves appear that bit taller than they actually were.

  “What is the meaning of this intrusion? I was not told of any reinforcements being allocated to Crendon!” the officer said immediately going on the offensive.

  Commander Drakon stood his ground. The Elven hierarchy was a complex and sometimes brutal place, where each elf clambered to best the next in order to gain some advantage over them. The higher you progressed In that hierarchy, the more others seemed to want to have a piece of you. The same was true in military rankings, where some would seek to gain an advantage from another's failings. While officers orders were usually carried out without question, being as failure to do so could result in some pretty horrific punishments, they were sometimes not carried out with any great purpose or urgency. Drakon was not an elf to take such matters lightly, however, and every soldier who rode with him understood fully what would happen if such a thing happened under his command.

  “I am Drakon, Commander of his Eminence Saedor’s forces in Gashek, and you will address me properly!” Drakon said sharply giving the officer a chance to redeem himself.

  The elven soldier looked sternly at Drakon’s direction as if judging and assessing him, before replying.

  “Of course Sir, please accept my humblest apologies. What is it we can do for you?”

  “I am in need of your base. My men need food and rest, as do I. I shall be using your accommodation!” Drakon said walking past the officer suggesting he had spent enough time talking to him. The soldier quickly followed Drakon, suggesting that perhaps if he could have just a short time to sort the room out so he could have it in a suitable state for Drakon’s use.

  “Very well, you have ten minutes!” Drakon replied, turning around and heading back to his darter.

  The outpost at Crendon was just as Drakon had assumed it to be. Being sufficiently far enough away from Gashek those based there had no interest in doing anything of note. While the elven soldiers simply spent their time drinking, gambling and passing around the handful of females they had at the base, the human contingent was tasked with serving and occasionally entertaining them. Although they were there to patrol and keep watch of the surrounding area, Drakon soon discovered that very rarely were such things put into practice, something he was about to change. The officer in charge would need to be reprimanded, but having more important matters to deal with, was something Drakon would report on his return to Gashek.

  The arrival in Crendon of so many soldiers and the fact they had wraiths among that number had certainly caused some alarm among those based there. Ultimately it was the humans who suffered the worse, as they were turfed out of their barracks to allow Drakon’s soldiers its use. Moreover, the small amount of food usually set aside for their use was reduced to allow Drakon extra supplies to take on his travels.

  Sitting in the small office, usually used by the officer in charge, Drakon perused a map of the local area. Using a quill pen and working under the light of a small oil lamp, he marked the locations where they had discovered signs of magic. Using a rule, Drakon then drew straight lines linking them all together and nodded with some satisfaction that it appeared he was on to something. “Where are you going?” he muttered to himself following the lines with his finger up to the point he was at now. There were a few small human settlements around Crendon, but the officer had informed him that these were all as should be and under Elven control. So where else could these magic users be heading? Sliding his finger across the parchment continuing in the same direction would see him heading into what he knew was mountainous regions. Could there be a human settlement hidden within them, so far undetected by any elven force? Drakon leant back in his seat and took a sip from his glass of wine, thinking of how he would be received if he could find such a place.

  A knock on the door sounded, breaking his somewhat dreamy state of mind.

  “The human female you requested is awaiting you in your room, Sir,” a soldier said just popping his head in through the half-open doorway. Drakon lifted a hand to indicate he understood, and after gently placing his wine glass back down on the table, had one last look at his map. Getting to his feet, he straightened his back and scratched at his crotch, looking forward to a soft bed and a little pleasure. While not a fan of humans in general, Drakon was, like a lot of elves, not impartial to the female of the race, especially when they were young. As an elf of senior years, he had used many such women for his own pleasure, often having the same one for weeks at a time before making a change. However, while the one he had been offered at Crendon had no doubt already done the rounds several times over, Drakon felt he needed something to take his mind off this relentless hunt for the magicians.

  Far to the south, Oswald had spent the past two days running and hiding where he could. Freshwater was easy enough to find, and although he had not traversed the area before had stumbled across at least half a dozen streams and brooks. One of these he had followed and had discovered it flowed into a much larger and deeper river. Knowing if he could get to the other side of the river the chances of any p
ursuers tracking him and catching up would be far less than if he stayed where he was.

  While Oswald had found plenty to drink, food was something not so easily come by. Having left Tepton without any provisions, taking only the clothes he had been wearing at the time, he was fast learning just how hard life on the run actually was. With there being no way to light a fire, and the nights being much cooler than he had expected, food was not the only problem he had to deal with. Moreover, while trying to keep off the tracks during the day, Oswald also knew he had to stay out of any forest at night time. With no real survival skills, Oswald relied only on his instincts to keep himself alive.

  Having found a few berries to eat he had even tried catching some of the fish he could see in the clear waters of the stream he had followed, but alas they were far too quick for him to even get close. Moving slowly along the riverbank, looking for a suitable place to cross, feeling cold and hungry Oswald was not sure how much longer he could go on as he was. The image of his mother being killed still plagued his memory, although he shed no tears of sadness. Instead, Oswald felt an inner anger, a feeling he had not experienced before, and it was only this hatred of the Dark Elves that kept him driving forward. With no idea where he was or even where he was going, each step he took was another further from home, a place he would likely never see again.

  Having spent the night curled up beside a rock on the river bank, Oswald awoke to the feeling of cramps in his stomach. While quite used to having very little to eat, having nothing at all to put in his stomach aside from water was evidently not sufficient to keep him going. Knowing he needed to find food somewhere he had made the decision that he needed to find a town or village. Stealing food was always something that carried a severe punishment, and at first, he had hesitated about doing it. However, being as he had killed one Dark Elf, assaulted another and fled his village, he guessed his list of crimes already meant he would likely be killed if he was ever captured; and stealing food to survive, would not alter that outcome one bit.

  Despite being early and not yet fully light, Oswald spotted what he thought looked like houses in the distance, albeit none like he had ever seen before. The only problem was they were on the other side of the river, and something he had not yet found a way of crossing. Swimming was not an option as he couldn’t, in fact, he knew of no one who could, and was truly aware that there was every chance of him drowning should he try. He looked up the river a short distance to where it appeared to narrow as it meandered around slightly to the left and spotted a fallen tree that had dropped into the water. While still having most of its roots embedded into the river bank, the main trunk jutted out part of the way across the river, and Oswald knew this could well be his only chance at making a successful crossing.

  Somewhat tentatively, Oswald edged out over the water as it splashed up against the side of the tree trunk, breaking the otherwise smooth-flowing current. Stradling the trunk with his legs he took a deep breath as he edged right along the full length until he was almost halfway across the river, but knew the second half would be far trickier than the first. How hard could swimming be? After all fish seemed to do it, and they weren’t particularly very bright, although even they had managed in outwitting him up until now. Dangling his legs into the water, the current felt a little stronger than he thought it might have been, and the bank on the other side suddenly appeared much further away.

  Oswald took one last intake of breath and threw himself forward as far as he could in the hope that having some momentum might help propel him to the opposite side. The chill of the water hit him first, as the sudden icy feeling caused his body to stiffen up. Keeping his arms and legs moving as much as he could he felt his head bob up just above the water, giving him just enough time to gulp in a bit more air before his head plunged once more beneath the surface. Feeling himself sinking deeper Oswald felt panic setting in as his lungs cried out for more air. With only icy cold water to fill them, he gulped and waved about frantically as he realised death was about to take him. Oswald felt as if his body was limp yet somehow moving more swiftly through the waters as everything suddenly went black.

  Coughing profusely and feeling his chest hurting was not what he had ever expected. Unsure as to how he was still alive or even why, he opened his eyes to yet one more surprise. Oswald wasn’t on the riverbank or even outside, but lying in a bed inside somebody’s house. There was even a fire in the hearth giving off a welcoming warmth, and his first thought was that he must have died, and this was some strange afterlife experience. “Oh you’re awake,” he heard a voice from somewhere on the other side of the room.

  “We thought we’d lost you,” added the sound of another.

  Oswald shuffled his body up a little to see who it was that was talking and got yet one more shock.

  “I’m in hell!” he said as much to himself as to the two figures standing and looking his direction.

  “No, silly, you’re in Whitebrook,” came the reply which was followed by a snigger and a chuckle.

  Oswald lifted his hand up to his face, just to check he was still actually alive. Confused and somewhat alarmed that two Dark Elves were standing at the end of his bed, his first thought was to make a break for it. He had been fortunate enough to survive the river, only to somehow find himself captured.

  However, any thought he might have had of jumping out of bed and making a dash for the door was soon forgotten as one of the elves carried over a tray. Upon it was a wooden bowl, filled right to the top with a thick kind of stew, “Here, this will help build up your strength,” she said.

  “You’re a female!” Oswald said somewhat shocked. He had never seen a female Dark Elf before, “You both are!” he exclaimed realising that was indeed the case.

  “You’re a smart one!” the younger of the two elves chuckled.

  Unsure as to why two Dark Elves were helping him, Oswald was a little dubious about eating, thinking perhaps it was some kind of trap. Noticing his somewhat untrusting nature, the older of the two elves smiled before assuring him, “Do you think if we wanted to kill you, we would have bothered dragging you out of the river?”

  Oswald thought about it for a moment and realised that made sense, so quickly tucked into the food being offered.

  The younger of the elves came over and plumped his pillow for him as he devoured the stew, even licking the bowl, so it was clean. Confused as to why he was still alive or why these elves were helping he might have been, but he thought that was probably the best meal he had eaten in a long time.

  “Why did you jump into the river?” the younger elf said using her slender fingers to brush the hair from his eyes. At first, Oswald flinched a little, unsure of how he felt about being touched by a Dark Elf. Surprisingly the grey looking skin was quite soft as it brushed his forehead, and he thought it was no different than a human touch.

  “I was trying to swim across to the other side,” Oswald said finally answering the question he had been asked.

  “You weren’t doing a very good job of swimming; drowning was the only thing you’d have managed had Masina not dived in and pulled you out,” the older elf said taking away his bowl and tray.

  “Who is Masina?” Oswald asked, thinking it a reasonable question.

  The younger elf chuckled again, “You are funny,” she said. “I’m Mesina,” she added.

  “Oh right. Thank you, I’m Oswald,” he said supposing the least he could do was acknowledge the fact she had saved his life, although that did not explain why she had done it.

  “Most elves would have let me drown thinking it funny,” he added looking at Masina for a reaction. If he wanted one, he certainly got it, although not the reply he had first envisaged.

  The older female Elf was apparently called Sansia and was Masina’s mother, who explained some of the questions he had been thinking of asking. Whitebrook was a little different to most places, in that Dark Elf families had settled and lived there in harmony alongside humans. Not long after the invasion a c
ouple of centuries ago, some elven families fed up with the wars their leader seemed intent on pushing them into fled the homeland. Having gathered enough coin to bribe a Captain on board one of the large seafaring ships, seven families endured the trip over. After getting away from the Elven army, they had found a small human settlement, seemingly untouched by the invasion, who had, albeit somewhat reluctantly at first, eventually allowed them to settle. Over the years the two communities had stuck together, and the once seven families were now substantially more in number but not so many that they had outgrown their village, just yet.

  As they were across the river, and the invasion of the human lands had been deemed completed, nobody had really paid them much attention. On the occasions where the Dark Elven army had visited, they were already prepared. The Elven families hid away, while the human ones appeared to be as miserable as they could and pretend they were subservient to the Elven rule. While the army had not visited in quite some time, it was the reason Masina had been watching the riverbank. They all knew if they were ever discovered, they would be rounded up and probably shipped back home to the Elven lands, or made to stay in Gashek.

  “We consider this our home, and we like it that way,” Masina said seemingly quite comfortable sitting on the edge of Oswald’s bed.

  “Now you know why we’re here, perhaps you can tell us why you’re here?” Sansia asked walking over to the fire and giving it a prod with a metal poker. Oswald grimaced, surely he could not tell them he was on the run after killing one of their own. Whether they suspected that was the case or not Masina brushed his hair from off his face again, “We don’t care if you have run away. We don’t agree with the way your people are treated,” she said softly.