Elvangar fl-6

by Richard S. Tuttle

“The guards will have recorded my visit,” protested Jandra. “I do not like this turn of events. You are going to do something horrendously foolish and get us both arrested.”

  “The responsibility will be mine alone,” promised Garl. “I will destroy the records of you coming here today before I leave.”

  “But the guards will still remember me,” Jandra shook his head vigorously. “You can’t erase their memories, too.”

  “I can and I will,” retorted Garl. “Go now. On your way out, tell one of the guards that I have fallen sick and that you are going to get a healer.”

  “But…” protested Jandra.

  “Go!” Garl shouted so loud that Jandra was afraid that it was heard all the way to the front doors.

  Jandra turned and fled. He raced to the front of the building and told the guards that his helper had fallen ill and that he was off to find a healer. One of the guards left his post and ran to the inner vaults. Garl was waiting for him. He fixed the guard with a stare and immediately bent him to his will.

  “Open the innermost vault,” ordered Garl.

  The guard did not even hesitate. He took a key off of his belt and unlocked the metal gate.

  “Wait here for me,” commanded Garl as he stepped into the guarded room.

  Garl moved swiftly through the small room. He found the scrolls easily as they were among the oldest in the vaults. He carefully opened the scroll and memorized it. When he was satisfied that he could duplicate it later, he replaced the scroll on the shelf and left the room. He ordered the guard to lock the gate, and then told him to escort him to the front of the building.

  The other guard saw his partner returning with the old woman. He looked questioningly for an explanation. Garl stared at the man and gave him none. With both guards under the compulsion spell, Garl took the ledger they used to record the names of people entering the vaults. He lifted the ink off the page that recorded the last entry and then put the ledger back in place.

  Garl cast another spell upon the two guards that would jumble their memories of the last hour. He then dropped the compulsion spells. The guards blinked their eyes and stared at the old woman. They looked briefly at each other in confusion and then back at the old woman.

  “Is this the library?” asked the old woman.

  “No,” answered one of the guards. “This is the royal vault. The library is across the park and a block to the left.”

  “Thank you,” smiled the old woman as she turned to leave.

  “Where did she come from?” one of the guards asked the other. “Did you see her arrive?”

  “I wasn’t paying attention,” replied the other guard.

  Garl smiled and hurried away. He made his way to the library and requested writing materials. Finding a place to sit that was out of sight of everyone, Garl duplicated the scroll that he had memorized. Only after the scroll was duplicated did he take the time to read it with an understanding mind. His brow creased deeply as he began to understand what was going on in Elvangar and the danger that the elves were in. Kieran had seen in it clearly in his vision, but even he could not see the ending of the drama that was about to unfold in the land of the elves. One thing was exceedingly clear to Garl. He had to race back to Etta to protect the twin sisters. If the queen got her hands on them, the elven people were doomed.

  Chapter 23

  Tales of Long Ago

  The door burst open to the small room that Mistake and MistyTrail slept in. Soldiers quickly filed in and threw cloth sacks over the heads of the sisters. Despite their muted protests, their hands and feet were bound. As the bound bodies were passed out of the room, the bunk beds collapsed, strewing Garl’s belongings all over the floor.

  The bodies were lowered by rope and placed in the back of a wagon. By the time the villagers, who had been awakened by the noise, had gathered below the trees, the wagon was already leaving the glade. Eltor raced to Garl’s house and climbed up the rope. He saw the front door wide open and entered anxiously. When he saw the destruction of the girls’ room, a rage built inside him. He raced out of the house and jumped to the ground.

  “They have taken Mistake and MistyTrail,” he shouted. “We have to stop them.”

  “They were soldiers,” replied Slari. “You cannot stop them.”

  “But they didn’t do anything wrong,” protested Eltor. “Why should they be arrested?”

  Caldal said nothing. He climbed the rope to his house and threw down his pack. Eltor looked questioningly at his friend as Caldal jumped down from the platform.

  “Get your pack,” ordered Caldal. “We are going to Morada.”

  “What for?” asked Eltor. “Didn’t you hear that they were soldiers? We can’t do anything, and we are forbidden to leave the village.”

  “I don’t care,” retorted Caldal. “We got them into this mess; we are going to get them out of it. Have you forgotten how they risked their lives to save us?”

  “I have not forgotten,” Eltor replied as he ran to his tree and climbed the rope.

  Eltor grabbed his pack and jumped down to stand next to Caldal. The villagers looked at the two boys with fear and anxiety. Caldal’s mother came down and handed a small sack to her son.

  “Be careful,” she said with tears in her eyes. “Try to do nothing to bring attention to yourselves. We want you both to come back safely.”

  Caldal nodded and hugged his mother while Eltor waved to his. The villagers stood and watched until the boys exited the glade.

  * * *

  Tamar knew he was being followed again. His shadow was good at his trade, but not good enough. Tamar accepted the challenge without making any moves to indicate that he had detected the follower. For a while Tamar took delight in making stops that would frustrate the shadow. He entered an inn and sat comfortably drinking ale while he imagined his follower wondering if Tamar had darted out the back door. He went to the library, looped around the tables and casually exited the building. He smiled inwardly as his shadow had to run to catch up.

  Finally tired of making his shadow’s life miserable, Tamar headed towards the harbor. He entered a sailors’ tavern and immediately exited through the rear door into a seldom-used alley. He quickly pressed his back against the wall behind the open door and shoved the door shut. Moments later the door opened cautiously. Someone peeked out the door and saw an empty alley. As the shadow opened the door further to exit the building, Tamar lunged at the door, slamming it with as much force as he could muster. He heard the man’s body fall and quickly stepped around the door.

  He stared briefly at the unconscious form of Rattal. Tamar shook his head in disgust as he bent down and searched Rattal’s body. He removed a pouch of gold and took Rattal’s sword. Rattal’s sword was special to him. It had been a gift from his father and was engraved near the hilt. Tamar stuck it through his belt and moved swiftly along the alley. He made several quick turns and dropped the stolen sword in another alley. He knew someone would find it and try to sell it. He hoped that it made the attack on Rattal appear to be a robbery. Tamar was not ready to let Rattal know that he knew who was following him.

  Tamar hurried across the city. He took a circuitous route to make sure that no one else was following him before he approached his father’s tree. He climbed the tree and knocked on the door. This time when Volox opened the door he stepped out of the way quickly so that Tamar could slip in.

  “What have we come to when honest elves must sneak around the city for fear of being followed?” asked Volox as he shook his head.

  “What we have come to, Father,” sighed Tamar, “is a very dangerous world. It is more dangerous for you than you can imagine. Queen Alycia is the one who ordered the arrest of Vitalora.”

  “The queen?” gasped the elder. “That is hard for me to swallow.”

  “You are on her list, Father,” Tamar said, “as am I. I caught the person who has been following me tonight. It is one of the officers under my command. An aggressive officer named Rattal.”


  “Is he dead?” Volox asked with concern.

  “No,” Tamar shook his head. “I made it look like a robbery. He will suspect it was me, but he cannot state that it was. Besides, I do not think he will want to brag about his failure to follow me. The queen has restricted my travels to Morada. I cannot leave the city without the fear of imprisonment.”

  “This is not the way Elvangar treats respected officers,” frowned Volox.

  “Or elders,” added Tamar. “Something is terribly amiss in Elvangar. I think it revolves around the two foreign girls, but I am not sure yet what is happening. I do know that the queen threatened your freedom today. I want you to rethink your position on retirement.”

  “Your mother and I have already talked about it,” replied Volox. “We have always been dedicated to the good of Elvangar. We cannot stop now just because someone threatens us. We are staying right here. I am an elder and will carry on my life as an elder should.”

  “I was afraid that you would say that,” frowned Tamar. “Do you have any idea why the queen is acting as she is?”

  “Other than the fact that she hates humans?” asked Volox. “I think things changed when Eltor and Caldal brought Mistake and MistyTrail to Elvangar. Whatever that signifies to her, she obviously fears that something has changed and the humans are going to attack us. I am sure that it is fear that is driving her to such extreme measures.”

  “Why does she hate humans so much?” asked Tamar. “I mean, everybody knows that she does, but no one knows why.”

  “Oh many of us know,” sighed Volox as he sat at the table. “You were much too young at the time, but it all dates back some years ago to a royal family outing. The king, queen, and the princesses went on a family cruise together. It was to celebrate the anniversary of their wedding.”

  “There were royal children?” asked Tamar.

  “Oh yes,” nodded Volox. “Twins in fact. They were but babes when the ship left port. A tremendous storm appeared out of nowhere when they were out near the Barrier Islands. The king was an excellent sailor. He decided to outrace the storm, but the path of the storm took him past the Barrier Islands. The king sailed on into the night to avoid the deadly storm. That is when the humans struck.”

  “Struck?” echoed Tamar. “What did they do?”

  “The humans rammed the king’s vessel amidships,” related Volox. “It broke in two. The queen watched as her daughters floated away on the bow. She was stuck on the stern which was rapidly sinking.”

  “And the king?” asked Tamar.

  “Ah,” sighed the elder, “that is the worst of all. He landed not in either section of the ship. He was plastered to the bow of the human vessel. He never had a chance. The storm blew in so quickly that the stern section had not even sunk by the time the winds arrived. It was only a stroke of fortune that the queen was saved. Another elven ship was also blown off course by the mighty storm. They heard her cries and rescued her. She ordered the crew to search for the king and the princesses, but it was to no avail. Not even the wreckage of the bow could be found, and the storm threatened to sink the rescue vessel.”

  “So they brought the queen back safely?” prompted Tamar.

  “They did but it was quite an ordeal,” nodded the elder. “The storm was the greatest ever recorded. It took them days to return to Morada. During that time, the queen refused to eat or sleep. She just kept staring off into the distance. She was like a stricken animal when the ship returned to port. It took the Society of Mages a month to restore her to good health. Her first decree as queen was to ban sailing past the Barrier Islands. The second was to never speak to a human.”

  “I cannot imagine living through such an experience,” frowned Tamar. “Not only to lose your husband, but your children as well. That is a bitter herb to swallow. It is easier for me to understand her moods with this knowledge.”

  “Yes, it is,” Volox nodded sympathetically. “I imagine the sight of two young foreign girls coming to Morada might have touched off some inner feelings. They are probably around the same age as her poor lost daughters.”

  “Sweet Kaltara!” exclaimed Tamar.

  “What?” Volox asked, his brows rising questioningly.

  “Those are her daughters,” Tamar proclaimed. “By Kaltara’s grace they survived the great storm.”

  “Inconceivable,” Volox shook his head. “Perhaps I did not explain the fury of the storm with sufficient description. It was a monster of a storm the likes of which has never been seen before or since. They could not have survived.”

  “Then how do you explain their Kieran ancestry?” asked Tamar. “The Kieran line is the most stringently charted line in all of Elvangar. Where else would they fall in such a chart other than the princesses?”

  “They are Kieran?” asked Volox. “How could you possibly know this?”

  “They said so themselves,” Tamar said excitedly. “Don’t you remember me saying so in the park when you and Vitalora were arguing about the queen?”

  “No,” frowned Volox, “I do not recall you saying it, but it was a tense conversation. How could they possibly know their ancestry?”

  “I do not know,” admitted Tamar, “but I believed them. No one in the village contradicted their claim. Why would they lie? We must tell the queen immediately.”

  “No,” Volox said emphatically. “Let me think about this for a minute.”

  “There can be no proof of such a claim,” offered Anija as she brought some hot drinks to the table. “Were Mistake and MistyTrail to proclaim that they were the lost princesses, the queen would see it as an attempt to steal the throne. You must learn to think before you act, Tamar.”

  “Who was present when the girls made this claim?” asked the elder.

  “Eltor and Caldal were there,” answered Tamar. “I was just escorting them to the village. Mistake and MistyTrail were with the old mage, Garl.”

  “Garl himself is a Kieran,” noted Volox. “I wonder if he could have put such thoughts into the girls’ heads?”

  “I thought you said that there were generations of elves living on the Island of Darkness,” interjected Anija. “They could be from any of those families.”

  “No,” Volox shook his head. “The girls were not from Motanga. They did rescue Eltor and Caldal from the island, but only after they were shipwrecked there themselves. Both girls grew up in the land of humans. There should be no elves living there at all.”

  “None?” asked Anija.

  “None that the boys’ testimonies pointed to,” shrugged Volox. “I don’t know. This is a sticky situation. How does one prove their ancestry? And if they can prove that they are Kierans, should they? It could put their lives in danger with the way the queen is acting now.”

  “I think the girls should be moved to an undisclosed location until we figure this out,” suggested Tamar. “There is too great a risk to them as it stands now. I do not want to see them harmed.”

  “You are restricted to the city,” Volox pointed out. “I am not. In the morning I will go to Etta and collect the girls. I will take them somewhere safe and then we can figure out what to do with them.”

  “Stay with us tonight, Tamar,” offered Anija. “We can discuss this a while longer before Volox goes to bed. I will make up the girls’ room for you.”

  Anija stopped as she realized what she had said. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she went off to make the room up for Tamar.

  * * *

  “Someone is coming,” whispered Eltor. “Hide.”

  Eltor ducked into some shrubs while Caldal hid behind a tree. Eltor peered into the moonlit night to see who would show up on the path. A distant figure appeared. It stopped walking and stood silently for a long time. Suddenly, the sky lit up brilliantly. Eltor shielded their eyes from the brightness. When Eltor looked back at the trail, the figure was gone.

  “What are you boys doing out here in the night?” grumbled Garl. “Are you becoming robbers now?”

  Eltor and Caldal spun aro
und and saw the old man standing on the trail behind them. Eltor wiggled out of the shrubs and Caldal moved away from the tree.

  “Soldiers came and took Mistake and MistyTrail,” reported Eltor. “Caldal and I are going to Morada to rescue them.”

  “Rescue them, are you?” smiled Garl. “At least your hearts are in the right place. I passed a wagon hours ago. I wish I had known then whom it carried. You will not succeed in rescuing them. I am sure that the girls will be watched very closely.”

  “They rescued me out of the temple of Vand on the Island of Darkness,” retorted Caldal. “The prison in Morada can’t be that hard.”

  “They will not be just regular prisoners as you two were,” frowned the old man. “If Caldal was watched closely in the temple, would you have been able to free him?”

  “No,” Eltor admitted after a moment of hesitation. “I guess we were very lucky, but we have to try. Why would they be arrested anyways? They have done nothing illegal.”

  “It is not what they have done,” scowled Garl, “it is who they are.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Eltor. “They are Mistake and MistyTrail. What do you mean who they are?”

  Garl silently stared at the two boys for a long time without answering. The boys began to fidget while the old mage tried to measure the worth of telling them the truth. Finally he sighed and wrapped an arm around each of their shoulders in the manner of teammates.

  “Mistake and MistyTrail are the lost daughters of Queen Alycia,” Garl said conspiratorially. “This is a secret that must remain among us. Their real names are Alahara and Alastasia. I do not know which is which.”

  “Princesses?” gasped Caldal. “How can this be? They are foreigners.”

  “They are elves of royal blood,” corrected Garl. “They may have grown up in foreign lands, but they are the heirs to the crown.”

  “But why would they be arrested then?” asked Eltor. “None of this makes any sense.”

  “Some of it does,” frowned Garl, “but not all of it. I have not figured out yet if the queen truly knows their identities.”