Reign of the Dark Elves

by Andrew G. Wood

  Brenion indicated for Ari and Liana to help themselves to food and drink, after all that was why they were sat at the table. Food, although not in great abundance was usually plentiful, and each person was allocated their share of it.

  “That means we’re eating yours?” Ari replied stopping his fingers midway from his plate to his mouth.

  Brenion chuckled, “Trust me, we have more than enough to go around. Like I said, food is not in short supply, and the harvests appear to be good again this year.”

  Happy he was not taking food off another man’s plate, Ari thought it seemed a shame to waste and so helped himself to another piece of ham.

  “If Elynia and Saedor are both magical, does that mean Oscar will also be?” Liana asked looking up from her plate, having hardly eaten much at all.

  Brenion shrugged, “It does seem that sometimes magic is inherited, but then again sometimes it is not. I mean I assume neither of your parents showed any sign of magic?”

  Liana just shook her head, even smiling as she thought just how ridiculous an idea that seemed. Yet despite their acceptance that humans were to continue in their lives as nothing more than slaves to the Dark elves, for the first time since leaving Tepton, it dawned upon her that she would likely never see them again.

  Elynia and Oscar returned to the house just a short while after they had all finished eating. Being as they had endured a somewhat eventful day, Brenion suggested they spend what remained of it, relaxing and resting. Tomorrow was apparently going to be a tough one, especially after a message was hand-delivered to the house for them all to report to the keep the following morning. As Brenion had expected, Liana’s little outburst would yet lead to further repercussions, although he assured her not to worry and that he would do everything in his power to make sure both she and Ari were treated fairly.

  “So you should, they make such a lovely young couple,” Elynia added, making both Liana and Ari blush.

  “Well, we’ll have to see what the council has to say about it tomorrow. No good worrying,” Brenion said with a look of reluctance on his face.

  It was early evening, and darkness had seemingly come a little earlier than both Liana and Ari were used to. After putting their young son to bed, somewhat awkwardly and embarrassingly Elynia suggested they all call it an early night, before grabbing her husband’s hand and leading him up the stairs.

  “She must be tired as well,” Ari said not catching on to the reason why they were going.

  Liana giggled, “Silly boy, she said leaning in closer to him,” before whispering what she thought they would be getting up to.

  “Oh!” Ari said, somewhat shocked and bashful looking.

  “And I think we should do the same,” Liana added running her hand up Ari’s leg, something which clearly made him uncomfortable the higher she got.

  Not to be so easily shunned Liana decided tonight was going to be as good a chance as she would ever get in having what she wanted. For a long time now she had considered mating with one of the older boys in the village, but with only Oswald actually showing any interest in her she had thought better of it. However, Ari was tall, slim and handsome and everything she wanted, a thought that just made her even more determined it was him she wanted to share her first intimate moment with. Although somewhat reluctantly, Ari followed her up the stairs and into the room they had been given. After lighting the small lamp beside the bed, Liana wasted no time in removing her clothes; all of them. By the time she was naked, Ari had only just removed one of his shirts, and so Liana deemed it her duty to assist. Grabbing the waistline of his breeches she unbuttoned them and pulled them down, feeling Ari’s entire body tense up as she did.

  “Relax!” she said softly leaning up and kissing him on the lips before leading him by the hand to the bed.

  Chapter 12.

  Two Dark Elven forces, both containing over one hundred in number left the city of Gashek. One was to head south towards the town of Sarton and its surrounding villages, to discover the origins of those responsible for the killing of two elf guards after the reaping there. The second group, led by the General, was to pick up on a trail that had been detected and duly headed eastward to investigate further.

  All mounted on the strange looking beasts called Darters, they would cover the ground quickly. The cat-like creatures were always favoured by the Dark Elves over horses, being as they were more agile and with them being so ferocious they could be a weapon in themselves. While human’s had used horses to fight when the invasion had taken place, their numbers had been small and easily defeated. Although a horse was probably quicker over a longer distance and had more stamina, the darter was better suited to chasing down humans, especially if that pursuit was through many of the thick woodland areas that covered the kingdom.

  Although it was common knowledge amongst the Dark Elven hierarchy that there were a few humans that existed with magical powers, it was believed that number could be no more than a hand full. While that would appear insignificant, Saedor for one, knew if they ever grouped up and combined their abilities they could pose his armies a problem. Not insurmountable problems it must be said, but problems he could do without and leaving them unchecked would only make matters worse. What he hoped humans were not aware of, was that magic, when used, left a scent of sorts, which was detectable by a wraith. The scent is what had been picked up to the east and the reason further wraiths were now being sent out to the area while it still existed. Depending on the strength of the magic used, would depend on how long the traces of it remained. A few hours or days was usually the case, and the very reason Saedor had dispatched his riders with haste.

  Rarely did such a large force of soldiers get sent out, especially with such urgency. Saedor was no fool and knew that if the humans were allowed, they could be a potential danger, hence the reason for the reaping and only being permitted, one child. The rumour as to whether there was an entire society of humans still living free from Dark Elven rule had long been debated by those in power. While some thought it likely small groups of humans did exist, somewhere out in the far reaches of the less inhabitable areas of the kingdom, they were considered so few in number that they barely warranted consideration. Saedor, however, was sure such a place did indeed exist, although its whereabouts had always eluded him. Being as the humans generally caused little trouble and the fact he had outposts positioned all over the land to keep order, he doubted even if this place did exist they would be able to muster any great opposition. While that may have been the case, again this was something he could not let get out of control, and if this place of human free-rule did exist, he needed to destroy it if it were ever found.

  Those riding south did so quickly, passing along the main tracks that linked each town to the next, unhindered in their progress. The darter was a resilient beast and one which had a high level of energy regeneration, meaning only shortstops had to be made before continuing their journey. With little for the Dark Elven soldiers to do other than guard the city or various outposts, the chance to finally engage in something else was clearly all they needed for motivation. To ride out on a darter, fully armed with the intent to kill or cause damage was after all, what they had been trained for, and this was probably a first for some of the newer arrivals.

  The further south they travelled the narrower the tracks became, meaning the column of soldiers had to resort to riding in ranks of no more than three across, which had to be reduced still further to just two as they passed by a fewer of the smaller villages. Taking just a day to travel from the capital to the town of Sarton, the group rode into the settlement and unsurprisingly caused some alarm in doing so. Those humans on the streets of the town soon disappeared from sight, many taking refuge in their pathetic looking homes, so they remained from view.

  The human placed in charge of the reaping was somewhat unceremoniously dragged out into the street by two Dark Elven soldiers, as were the two humans who acted as his guards. The commander of the Elven force slipped down f
rom his darter and ambled, almost strutted over to where the three humans waited. A cruel Elf who had no love for their human hosts, by the name of Gardir.

  “A selection was made here just last week, I need all the information of those that were picked!”

  The human clerk grovelled somewhat pathetically as his two guards just stood on and watched, “Of course, I will find the papers now, Master.” With those words, the clerk crawled part of the way back on his hands and knees before finally standing and hurrying back inside.

  Within just a minute of waiting the clerk returned with a rolled parchment which he quickly unrolled. With his hands shaking nervously he then pointed to the names on the paper indicating the name and village they were from. “Three girls and one boy, Master. As I recall the boy did kick up a bit of a fuss…” were the last words the clerk would ever speak. Gardir looked at the human, as the life drained away before pulling his dagger from out of the man’s gut and letting him fall to the ground in a heap. With the parchment in hand, Gardir then turned to the two guards who still stood by doing nothing, “Get your people to appoint a new clerk. That one has served his purpose,” he added making some kind of guttural noise that resembled a laugh.

  Without further delay, Gardir climbed back up on his darter and signalled for his soldiers to move out. With all the selections coming from different villages he would have to check each in turn. With orders to use whatever force he felt was necessary, as to whether those settlements still remained intact after he had visited, was yet to be decided; that, of course, would depend on how cooperative the people were, and the mood he was in at the time.

  The nearest was a small settlement called Sheplea and home to one of the girls. However, having been the home of the dead girl they had discovered, he only needed to check for magic in the village. Despite hating wraiths nearly as much as humans, Gardir had one among his number for that very purpose. If this had been the home of the one with magic, it was possible her parents or other relatives may be similarly gifted. If so, he would capture them and take the human back to Saedor as a gift, and likely to increase his own standing and status in the process.

  Made up of a couple of dozen timber dwellings, and one slightly larger one at the centre, Sheplea was a rather pathetic looking place. Its occupants were all farmers and were there, like many in the area, to grow food for their Masters, and in exchange the Dark Elves allowed them to exist. As much as Gardir would have loved to have wiped them all out, he knew that the humans were there for a purpose. Hurting them too much would only result in a lack of production and would ultimately mean less for his own people. Yet making an example of one or two would have little effect, and showing these pitiful beings who was in charge would not go amiss.

  As it was late in the day, many of the residents were already back in their homes, although with Gardir’s arrival all were ordered back outside. Told to line up in rows, the Dark Elven Commander had his soldiers search the houses for anybody not obeying their Masters. While none were found hiding, Gardir ordered two homes be burned to the ground, declaring to those before him how merciful he was in leaving the rest to stand.

  “I am looking for the parents of a young girl who recently escaped from a reaping selection. Her name was,” he looked down at the parchment in his hands, “Bella!” he said.

  A man and a woman stepped gingerly forward, unsure as to what was about to happen. Gardir smirked and strolled over towards them before just standing and staring at them both, making them wait and squirm for that bit longer. Standing a good foot shorter then the man, Gardir arched his back slightly as if to try and make himself appear that little bit bigger in stature.

  “You will be pleased to hear, your daughter is dead. Killed while trying to escape,” he added waving for his men to release the strange creature known as a wraith. The woman before him instantly cried out and fell into her husband's arms, barely even noticing the wraith as it approached in its natural form.

  The wraiths were under the control of the Dark Elves and brought into this world to do their bidding, and as such it obeyed when Gardir commanded it to search for any traces of magic, starting with the man and woman clutching on to each other in front of him. The wraith all but vanished from sight, as it turned into its shadow form, and just a faint haze of blackness drifted on the air like a fine puff of smoke, almost invisible to the eye. As if twisting in the wind it swirled around between the people before re-taking its true form beside the Dark Elven Commander. Using its limited capacity to speak the wraith produced a deep croaking type of sound to make up the words necessary to relay its findings to Gardir.

  None in the village were magic, and thinking the two humans consoling themselves at the loss of their daughter had suffered enough Gardir thought it was now time that he helped. Having heard enough of the woman crying and sobbing, he turned his back slightly as if about to walk away before drawing his sword and swinging it around as hard as he could. The blade cut deep, almost severing the head as her husband let her body drop to the floor in shock. His fate was sealed just a few seconds later as Gardir thrust his sword forward until the shining steel had penetrated through to the other side of the man's chest. In a final show of arrogance and disregard for the humans, Gardir wiped the blood off his blade on the man’s clothes before returning it to the scabbard at his waist.

  Leaving the village of Sheplea behind, Gardir pressed onwards to the next on his list. With his soldiers following in a long line behind him, the Dark Elf grinned rather smugly to himself as he rode. The beast underneath him let out a loud roar as he nudged his boots into its flanks signalling for it to pick up the pace. Taking long bounding strides, the darter did as was asked devouring the yards until the next turning on the track appeared.

  With no sign of magic at the next two villages, Gardir had left little reminders to those that lived there as to which race was in charge. Setting fire to several homes and killing a few of the residents as a show of power, and more so to fulfil his lust for violence against the humans. Last, on the list was a village called Tepton and having been unsuccessful in his search for any signs of magic thus far, hoped something a little more challenging lay ahead. Killing humans just for the sake of it was fun up to a point, but Gardir liked it more when they struggled or put up some element of a fight, that way making it all a little more sporting.

  It was dark when the force of over one hundred Elves rode into Tepton, but it was not long before the soldiers were dragging people outside for inspection. Torches were lit to give them some modicum of light by which to see the fear on the faces of those they were about to check.

  “I am looking for the parents of a girl named Liana!” Gardir shouted out.

  A man and a woman tentatively stepped out of the shadows to the front of the line, as the wraith was once more asked to check for signs of magic. All but invisible now it was dark, the shadow moved about unseen around the villagers looking for anyone with powers. However, once more the wraith returned to Gardir with the news that there was none present.

  As it was late and the idea of travelling during the hours of darkness did not appeal to the Dark Elven Commander, he had already thought of an alternative. With a sense of excitement in what he was about to do, he ordered all the males from the village to be rounded up on one side, while the women stayed on the other. As a reward to his troops Gardir had decided to allow them all a little fun, and though not all could partake at the same time, the first half was already dragging the females off to use for their pleasure.

  Despite watching their wives, daughters or mothers being abused and taken away, the men of Tepton appeared to downtrodden and reluctant to do anything to stop it. All that was aside from a couple of the younger members who struggled to force a way through the ring of soldiers that kept them hemmed in. At the fore was a young man named Oswald, who despite his age barged straight at one of the Dark Elven soldiers knocking him clean off the ground and sending him down with a bump. The gap he created was quickly filled by
the other guards but not before Oswald, and two other young men had managed to break free from their cordon.

  Oswald ran straight towards the Dark Elf that was currently dragging his mother off towards one of the houses, not thinking of the consequences his actions might bring. “Get your stinking hands off her!” he spat as he leapt forward, grabbing at the elf and landing atop of him as they both hit the ground. Gardir was happy to watch the spectacle develop, thinking it was always so much more fun when somebody at least tried to fight back. This young human lad had a bit of spirit about him, so much so he had the elf soldier pinned to the floor and was punching him in the face. Gardir roared with laughter, showing no concern for his soldier, just entertained by the entire debacle.

  The two other young men who had also barged their way free were quickly rounded back up and after the minimal of struggles both were grappled to the floor and thrown before the feet of Gardir. Oswald was eventually subdued, and although the soldier he had attacked still lay unconscious on the ground, his victory had been short-lived as others had eventually come to his aid. Oswald was unceremoniously beaten and dragged along the ground before being dumped down beside his fellow villagers. Gardir held his hand up to his slightly elongated chin, smirking as his mind pondered on the best way to deal with these upstarts.

  “The darters need feeding, take these two and throw them into the pen,” he said finally making up his mind.

  “What about this one?” the soldiers asked indicating to a bloodied Oswald.