The Elven Stones_Family

by P. A. Wilson

  He looked around for the ones who had applauded. Two of them were watching him with what might be interest. “You, and you,” he said, pointing to them. “Meet me in the antechamber. The rest of you go back to your idleness. We will see action soon.”

  The two scree followed him from the barracks. At the bottom of the great stairs, Vitenkar motioned for them to stop. He strode to the storeroom and checked that the door was locked. The artifact was safely hidden and the door was secure.

  “The antechamber,” he ordered. The second floor was where he planned his campaign and where he slept. The meeting rooms on the first floor were small and he kept his business papers there. He didn’t want his trading activities interrupted. Armies cost money and he couldn’t risk losing the men he had, no matter how inferior.

  The small antechamber to his bedroom was where he met important clients, and now where he would meet with the few people who would help him to achieve victory. The two scree he’d chosen led the way into the small room. It held a cabinet, where the best of the local wine and liquor were locked, a sofa, and a table large enough to seat six scree, or humans.

  “Your names?” he asked as he unlocked the cabinet.

  “Dintral, clan Leesot,” the shorter one stated immediately.

  Vitenkar wondered if he had chosen poorly when the taller one looked him over before answering. “Ballian clan Druth. Why have you asked us here?”

  It might be better to work with Ballian, Vitenkar thought. Blind loyalty wasn’t always the most useful in a war. Vitenkar offered them wine, and indicated they should sit at the table. He pulled a roll of plans from the back of the cabinet and joined them.

  “You know the story about the gate between worlds?” He waited until they nodded. The gate had been unknown to anyone but the elves until five years ago, when a woman had sealed it, saving the world from a violent and catastrophic invasion. “It seems all of Cartref is ready to live a future of peace and harmony.”

  “Not everyone,” Ballian said. “Peace is boring. Look at your soldiers down there. That’s the best of what’s left of the scree warriors.”

  Vitenkar smiled. He had chosen well with Ballian. “Exactly. But they are still better warriors than any other race can bring to a battle. The elves have dismantled their armies and turned their energies to teaching and healing.”

  Dintral snickered. “There’s no one left to fight.”

  Vitenkar glared at Dintral. “That isn’t true. The scree are not willing to become traders and farmers. We are warriors.”

  “So, you want to fight the elves?” Dintral asked.

  Vitenkar noticed that Ballian was keeping silent. The man was cunning. He would have to find a use for that. “The elves first.”

  “Like a tournament?” Dintral asked. “That would be fun. We could have prizes.”

  “No,” Vitenkar shouted, slamming his hand on the table. “This is not a game. The scree will rule this world. The other beings will die or be enslaved.”

  “That’s quite a goal.” Ballian sat forward, eager to get started. “Why the elves first? They are strong in battle and do not flinch from an army.”

  Vitenkar took a long sip of his wine. He did not want to be interrupted again. In the pause, he stared down both of his lieutenants, cowing them into listening. When he felt they were sufficiently attentive he started explaining. “The elves don’t reproduce often. I have found a way to stop them from having any children at all. We need only cut down the existing villages. They will be easy to eradicate. They will stand as an example of our might. Other species will surrender to avoid our wrath. And if we battle them first, we will not face them in every fight as they foolishly come to the aid of the others.”

  “Who will be next?” Dintral asked.

  “When will we know the elves are gone?” asked Ballian. “They may have laid down arms, but they fight to the death when they engage. If we have to kill all of the living elves, we’ll need a bigger army.”

  Vitenkar had thought long and hard about this. Ballian was correct. The elves would not die easily. But they only needed to kill enough to dishearten the rest. “They will only fight as long as they have hope. As soon as they realize there are no more children, they will stop fighting. We will attack the first three villages as soon as the men are in battle condition. By then the elders, at least, will have noticed that there are no more conceptions.”

  “How have you stopped them?” Ballian asked.

  It had been so easy that Vitenkar was tempted to embellish the story. But he decided to save it for the troops. These two men were his trusted lieutenants. They would get the truth. “They are tied to this land. There is a place where their fate is written on a stone. I have removed this stone.” He didn’t tell them that he’d tortured and killed ten seers to get the information he needed to find this place. Or that he hadn’t gone himself, but had hired, and then slain, a mercenary.

  Chapter 3

  Maynard slipped behind the column just inside the meeting room and dropped down to sit in the cramped space behind it. The outer wall against his back, the stones warmed by the sun of late afternoon that beat on the outside, kept him hidden from anyone in the room. He had spent hours here listening to people present contracts, some turned down because the risk was too high, some because the price offered too low. No one was turned down for a contract that skated close to the law if they had the money to pay.

  The opportunity to make a copy of the keys had come so out of the blue that Maynard had almost missed it. Now, despite the pain in his muscles from the cramped hiding place, he was glad to have them. Rumors of a big contract had come out of the antechamber this morning. A prominent resident of the island had requested a meeting with the guild board. Having prior knowledge of the negotiations was worth the agony if he could use it to his advantage.

  The guild board members entered just as Maynard shifted his body to minimize the discomfort. He couldn’t see them, any more than they could see him, but he knew who they were, four of the ten-member board. All of these were human, as was the client. Maynard could replace any of them. And he would when he was more sure of his support. New board members were always elected from the couriers. When Maynard pushed Springheart and Willowvine off the top of the list of couriers, he’d have the support, and then it was just a matter of killing one of the board members. Everyone would vote for Maynard whether they liked him or not.

  The small rustling sounds of the four people finding their seats were replaced with some murmuring. The board members were curious. This was a new client and he’d already promised a large fee. If all went well, it meant a substantial increase in the guild revenue. Maynard knew they had plans for opening branch guilds on the mainland and one of the other islands. This contract would go a long way to financing that project.

  “No hints of the details?” Elendra, the eldest woman of the group, asked.

  Deacon, who was Maynard’s preferred target for removal, answered, “There was only a request for a meeting and, of course, a sum of money mentioned.”

  “Our spies were unable to find any information,” Lisseline said. “Aranate Devissial does not often need anyone’s assistance. He owns no business that anyone can find. He lives quietly with only two servants. His money comes from his ancestors. I fear we will be at a disadvantage in this negotiation.” She sounded frustrated. Her spies were usually able to provide anything she desired in the way of information.

  Maynard rubbed his upper lip to avoid sneezing. The rassa tea that dampened his emotions allowed him to avoid getting too excited when he was hiding, but it did nothing for his allergies. He had to find a way to clean this space if he continued to use it. The dust was going to be all over his clothes, now he’d need an excuse for that when he left. While he was distracted, he missed something that the remaining board member said. It was likely not important since it was Reven who had spoken.

  A draft of clean air flowed past him. The street door was open. There were two doors, one to
the street that the guild board used, and one to the antechamber where clients were screened, and couriers inspected before entering. Clients rarely came directly from the street.

  “Citizen Devissial, welcome to our chamber,” Lisseline spoke for the guild. “How can we be of service?”

  “Please, call me Aranate,” the reply came in a soft voice. “I have need of discretion in this matter. I am acting for another party.”

  “You can rely on our couriers to keep your secrets,” Lisseline replied as urbanely as Aranate had spoken. “There has never been a breach of client confidentiality.”

  “That is why I am here and not hiring my own… couriers.”

  Maynard winced at the pause. No matter how many times the guild declared their legitimacy, people still thought of them as thieves. Their secrecy only reinforced the reputation that the couriers were on the shady side of the law. That reputation was too close to the truth to ever be fully denied.

  “What can you tell us?” Lisseline’s voice remained calm, but Maynard knew she felt as he did about their reputation.

  “First I have a request. If you cannot fulfill it, I will be forced to go elsewhere, as distasteful as that will be.”

  No one said anything, but they must have gestured for him to continue.

  “My… friend has requested that Springheart and Willowvine complete this contract.”

  Maynard fumed. It should be the guild board that chose the courier. Clients brought the contract. They didn’t determine who would fulfill it.

  Lisseline agreed to the condition.

  “Very well. The contract is to retrieve an object that has been stolen. It must be returned to its proper place before the next full moon.”

  “And what is this item?” Lisseline asked. “Do you know who stole it?”

  Maynard leaned forward to ensure he wouldn’t miss any details. This was critical. If he knew the details before the elves, then he could simply carry out the task and return before they had even started.

  “I can only provide the details to Springheart and Willowvine,” Aranate said. “Although I feel confident in telling you that part of the contract is to locate the item. My friend knows only that it is on this island, not where, nor do they know who brought it here.”

  Maynard gritted his teeth. Now he would have to get himself added to the contract. It would have to be done without Aranate knowing. It was too important to Maynard to risk having the contract pulled because he was involved.

  “When will you be able to meet with them?” Lisseline asked. “They completed a contract last night. We will need to contact them and ensure they are satisfied with the terms.”

  Maynard heard a chair scrape against the stone floors. “The payment should be sufficient for you to increase their commission so as to encourage their acceptance. I will return in an hour to meet with them. I will require privacy.”

  Lisseline agreed and everyone left. Maynard waited until he was sure that the room was empty, rose, dusted his clothes off, and then went to listen at the door. This was the riskiest part of his spying, knowing when and how to leave without being noticed.

  There was no sound from the antechamber. It was deserted when the guild met, but would fill with people very soon. Maynard opened the door only enough to slip out.

  Chapter 4

  Springheart led Willowvine into the guild boardroom. The fact that the board members weren’t there was oddly disturbing. The room was far too big for only three people. But it was the only room where they were guaranteed privacy. Aranate Devissial sat in one of the board member’s chairs, and he waived them over to join him.

  All Springheart knew was that the contract details would have to be kept secret. That even the board wouldn’t know what they were doing until the job was done. He wasn’t comfortable with the secrecy, but that was the contract, so he’d have to live with it.

  Willowvine held Springheart back as he moved to join the client.

  “There’s a presence,” she said.

  It wasn’t possible. She must be sensing someone outside on the stairs or in the antechamber. “The room has been checked.”

  She looked at him and he knew she was getting ready to argue. That look was so familiar he didn’t need to hear the words. He held up his hand. “It is not possible for someone to be here. The marshal checked the room. Don’t argue with me in front of a client. We need to be professional.”

  Willowvine narrowed her eyes, but nodded and followed him to sit beside Devissial.

  Springheart knew the argument was just postponed, but he was grateful for the reprieve.

  The client was politely pretending that they hadn’t spoken. A thin man, his blond hair cut short, his shoulders rounded as if he’d been bent over a book for too long, he radiated calm and civility. Money had a way of making humans more like elves sometimes. Springheart knew that Willowvine would be sensing Devissial’s aura. Looking for lies, and dishonest intent. Until the meeting was over, Springheart would act as though the man was dealing plainly with them. When they were done, he would heed her advice.

  “You requested us for this job,” he said. “Why do you think we are the best?”

  Devissial smiled. “Do not pretend that you are not. But it is not your prowess as couriers, or not only that, which brings us together. I am acting as agent for an old friend of my family. He is an elf, and he believes only an elf can complete this task.”

  Risking a glance at Willowvine, Springheart saw that she was watching the human with no indication that there was trouble. “There are few things that specifically require an elf. When will we get the details?”

  Devissial looked down at his hands before responding. “My friend would prefer not to provide details until the contract is agreed. I know that you have the choice and, in your place, I would refuse to commit to something I didn’t understand.”

  Springheart started to respond, but Devissial waved him to silence. “I was told to ask you to take an oath. One that will bind you to secrecy regardless of the outcome of this discussion. Will you both agree to it?”

  An oath was something Springheart could agree to, and he knew that Willowvine would do the same. She was practically vibrating with curiosity. Springheart guessed at the nature of the pledge. “The Heart Oath?” Breaking that oath would stop their hearts. It was the strongest oath the elves had.

  “Yes.”

  It was only a matter of a few moments to take the oath, and when they completed the ceremony Devissial settled back in his chair. “How much do you know about the relationship the elves have with Cartref?”

  “The health of our world affects the health of the elves,” Willowvine answered. “No one has told me anything more. Maybe they tell the non-orphans the details.”

  Devissial didn’t react to the bitterness in her voice. Perhaps he didn’t notice, but Springheart felt it and regretted his inability to help her accept their status.

  Devissial showed them a sealed message. “I have not been given any other information. But I do have this. I can tell you that something has been stolen that will cause the elves to disappear if it is not returned by the next full moon. I am assured that you have the talent to locate and return this object. If you agree to take the contract, I am to give you this message to open. If you require help during the term of the contract, you may reach out to me.” Devissial placed a calling card on the message and then laid them both on the table in front of him.

  Springheart wanted to say yes. He knew they would eventually, and that any time spent negotiating was time they wasted. The full moon was only twelve days away and if they had to find the object, as well as deliver it, they didn’t have any minutes to waste. He was sure that Willowvine knew what he was thinking because he always took the side of the elves. No matter how badly they were treated by their own people, Springheart would not deny them any request. It was because he knew how hard it was for the elders to acknowledge orphans, let alone ask them for help.

  He looked over at Wi
llowvine, she shook her head. Barely a movement, but he knew they would need to talk before they agreed. If he didn’t let her speak her piece they would be arguing the entire contract. They probably would anyway, but it didn’t need to be over the elven culture.

  Springheart turned back to Devissial. “Before we agree, what are the terms?” Perhaps Willowvine could get some level of recognition. It seemed to him that was all she really wanted, to be acknowledge as someone who has done a service.

  Devissial mentioned a sum that would have paid for the whole guild to fulfill the contract. “I assume that the board members don’t generally tell the couriers the full payment. I think it important for you to understand the stakes.”

  “We need to discuss it. Would you allow us an hour?” Springheart hoped it would not take that long, but he didn’t want Willowvine to feel rushed. She needed to be fully committed to this. Her oath would protect the secrets, not that they were given any to protect yet.

  Devissial agreed to meet them in one hour, took the message, and then followed them out of the chamber. Springheart arranged for a private room in the members’ area of the hall.

  Chapter 5

  As soon as they left the room, Maynard uncurled from his hiding place. He brushed the dust off as he thought about what he’d heard. It wasn’t what he’d hoped, but if the two elves needed to take an oath, he was certain that they wouldn’t share the contents of the message with him.

  He smiled.

  It didn’t matter. He always had an alternative. He would just convince the board to let him shadow Springheart and Willowvine. They couldn’t be happy with the secrecy involved in the contract, and that was something he could use to get the board to do as he wished.

  Maynard had forgotten that the girl could sense presences. If Springheart had believed her, they would have found him. He dismissed the thought. It was a worry for later, for now all he had to do was slip out of the room. He placed his ear against the door. He could hear the marshal giving Springheart the number of a private room. Unfortunately, those rooms were too small to provide a hiding place, and they were sound proof. No matter. It would give him time to talk to one or two of the board members.