“Ronenth!” Yulenth cried.
“Nothing’s missing,” Solienth said. “He didn’t rob us.”
“Ronenth!” Yulenth cried again, stumbling over burnt rocks, frantically trying to find the boy.
“Here I am!” Ronenth cried. His arms were full of packages and bolts of cloth.
“Look!” Solienth cried. “Glaf cloth!”
“I have tried to save everything of my people that I could,” Ronenth said with pride. Yulenth and Solienth looked through the meager treasures of a once great civilization now rescued by a dark eyed boy.
“And look!” Ronenth held up a leather bound book and flopped it open. “Writing!”
Yulenth scanned the book, then smiled and handed it to Solienth.
“Does it tell of the great adventures of the Glafs?” Ronenth asked.
“It’s a merchant’s list of inventory,” Solienth said with a sad, pained smile.
“Well,” Ronenth said with defensive pride, “we shall have to write all the books over again.”
“Look at this,” Yulenth said to Solienth running his hand over a stream of beautiful, pale blue cloth.
“It’s the color of our flag,” Solienth wistfully said.
“It’s the color of the Great Lake of Ettonne,” Ronenth said touching the cloth with reverence.
“It is why the men of the Northern Kingdom of Man mistakenly called us Ettonnes,” Yulenth ruefully said. “This color.”
Solienth looked out over the great grass plain spreading out before the ruins of Glafemen. It was dotted with herds of aurochs, horses, and a few doderns contentedly grazing.
“Over there,” Solienth gestured, “were hundreds of houses. Over there, a great market. Over there...” Solienth trailed off. Weffie and Bekkie shuffled up to Solienth, their udders full and leaking. Solienth sadly patted Weffie’s muzzle, then noticed some other wild, aurochs curiously grazing closer.
“Here I am,” Solienth said rising, reaching his hands out to the herd of calmly grazing animals, “the great general of cows.” Then he flopped down, put his face in his hands and wept.
Ronenth moved to comfort him, but Yulenth knew his old friend and gently diverted the boy from antagonizing the old general with sympathy.
The rest of the morning Yulenth taught Ronenth writing and reading. The dark haired boy was so eager to learn that Yulenth could barely teach him fast enough.
About midday, Solienth approached.
“I apologize for my selfishness,” Solienth said to Yulenth and Ronenth.
“It’s all right,” Ronenth said, but Yulenth caught him by his shoulder.
“Learn the ways of your people,” he whispered to the dark eyed boy. “So,” Yulenth squared off to Solienth, “you wish us to accept an apology for your self-pity, is that it?”
“I don’t need you to accept anything,” Solienth gruffly responded.
“Who do you think you are?” Yulenth challenged.
“I am who I am,” Solienth said with a sneer.
“Well, then,” Yulenth said with a huff.
“Well, then,” Solienth proudly said.
And then, they fell into each other’s arms laughing.
“I don’t understand,” Ronenth said scratching his head.
“A Glaf is strong,” Solienth said. “And can endure pain and abuse.”
“But, most of all” Yulenth said with a twinkle in his eye, “a Glaf must be able to laugh at himself, or he is no Glaf.”
Yulenth threw his arm around Solienth’s shoulders and gave him a hug.
“I was thinking,” Solienth said.
“Another Glaf curse” Yulenth butted in, “always thinking.”
“I was thinking,” Solienth continued, “about that battle at Rion Ta. With the garonds on the horses?”
“Yes,” Yulenth was guessing his thoughts. “The old stories tell of human warriors riding horses to battle.”
“We should be able to do that,” Solienth sniffed with pride.
“And even better than the garonds,” Yulenth also sniffed. “All the histories wrote that great armies of humans once rode upon horses. Why have we given up this very sensible practice?”
The three looked out at the field filled with grazing aurochs, doderns, and horses. Then Yulenth noticed something in the far distance, a column of soldiers.
“Look,” he said pointing.
“Are they man or garond?” Solienth squinted.
“We will defend our capitol to the death!” Ronenth puffed.
“Let’s just see,” Yulenth slowly said. “Yes, yes, they are men. Looks like they fly the colors of the Northern Kingdom, the golden sun on a field of red.”
“Shall we fight them?” Ronenth excitedly asked.
“Let’s talk first,” Solienth said. “But you, Ronenth, stay up in the ruins and fly if fighting starts. No objections.”
Ronenth grumbled, but did as Solienth said. Solienth and Yulenth then calmly waited, loosely holding their spears as the twenty or more soldiers of the Northern Kingdom of Man approached.
A captain hailed them. Solienth waved back.
“Close enough,” Yulenth called. “What do you want?”
“All armies are gathering at Tyny to fight the garonds!” The captain called back.
“You see before you, the last of the Glafs,” Yulenth called. “We may join you, but honestly, I feel no allegiance to you or your cause.”
The captain grimly paused.
“I respect your decision,” the captain called. “All men are needed. But, we will not compel you.” The captain turned to go, then stopped and turned back. “I know it is not for me to apologize for the great wrong done to your people by my people. But please accept the apology only I can personally extend. It was wrong to fight our brothers of the Skyld tribe. All know that now.”
“Yes,” Yulenth called back, “very convenient to say you’re sorry now that we’re all almost gone. Good luck with your battle.” Yulenth then waved the captain away with a dismissive gesture. “Off with you.”
The captain paused, and it seemed as if he were deciding if he should take offense. But then, he seemed to remember the Glaf way, shook his head, and continued marching south, with his men, across the grassy plain.
Solienth looked over at Yulenth as if he was impressed by his bravado. Then they both laughed together. Ronenth scurried down from his perch and pushed the older men, playing and laughing.
The rest of the day Yulenth taught Ronenth at a blistering pace, the young man seemed to be so thirsty for knowledge.
Solienth walked down onto the meadow and, with a rope, tried futilely to catch a horse. Yulenth and Ronenth took breaks occasionally to laugh at Solienth’s clumsy attempts.
Night fell, and Solienth tested Ronenth, as Yulenth prepared the evening meal.
Solienth stopped testing and helped Yulenth.
“That boy is frightening,” Solienth said in a whisper.
“Yes,” Yulenth said. “And now, he is all that is left of Glaf. We must protect him with our very lives.”
“As if he was our son,” Solienth agreed.
The rest of the evening was spent with Yulenth and Solienth telling humorous and heroic stories of Glaf to the utterly rapt audience of Ronenth, until they all fell into a happy and deep sleep.
The next morning, Solienth was the schoolmaster. He taught Ronenth more advanced ideas of economics, trade and government.
Yulenth took the rope and wandered out onto the plain.
“I can do no worse,” he said to himself. Yulenth made no overt attempt to rope a horse, but instead studied each animal carefully with scrutiny.
Late in the morning, Yulenth was surprised to turn and see a white horse with a black mane studying him with intelligence burning in its dark eyes. He pretended to ignore the young stallion and walked away. The horse curiously followed him.
Watching from the corner of his eye, Yulenth picked a clump of tasty grass and offered it to a nearby dodern. The massive
animal shuffled away as Yulenth drew near. The horse followed Yulenth trying to see what he was doing.
Yulenth wandered away, keeping one eye on the white horse with the black mane. Yulenth pretended to be bored and offered the clump of sweet grass to an auroch who sniffed at it, but was too nervous to take it. The auroch bobbed its head, wanting the clump of grass Yulenth offered. The white horse crowded closer as if to push the auroch off.
Yulenth started to wander away again, but the white horse pushed Yulenth’s shoulder with his muzzle. Yulenth turned to survey the animal.
“What do you want?” Yulenth slyly asked. Then, he held out the grass for the horse as he stealthily put the rope around the horse’s neck.
“Now we’ll see,” Yulenth nervously muttered to himself. He gently pulled on the rope to lead the white horse to a deep green clump of grass and the horse complied.
“I’ll be bitten by bugs,” Yulenth exclaimed to himself, and patted the horse’s neck. “You need a name, friend.”
The white horse looked at Yulenth with happy eyes.
“Gladsir” Yulenth said, and the horse gleefully tossed his head. “You like that, eh. Okay, Gladsir, let’s see if you like this.”
Yulenth positioned himself carefully, and then hefted himself onto the horse’s back.
About midday, at the ruins, Solienth was explaining to Ronenth the need for nations to build avenues of trade for friendly relations, when Yulenth wildly galloped up on Gladsir.
“Hallo, citizens of Glaf!” Yulenth yelled, then whooped and wheeled the happy, prancing horse out onto the field.
“I’ll never hear the end of this,” Solienth sighed.
Ronenth looked up at Solienth with eager, pleading eyes.
“We might as well join him,” Solienth sighed again.
Ronenth let out a whoop and ran to join Yulenth, to see if he could catch a horse of his own.
In the field, Yulenth seemed as one with Gladsir. Ronenth ran back and forth, roughly trying to grab a horse, while Solienth walked up to the red mare he had been chasing all the day before. And, the silly animal simply let him hop up on her back.
“Hmmph,” Solienth grunted to the mare. “Not so coy today, are you?”
Ronenth was out of breath, and it seemed a tan foal wanted to be caught, but couldn’t trust itself. Then, Ronenth heard Solienth shouting something.
He looked up in the direction Solienth was pointing. Yulenth pulled Gladsir to a halt.
On the far edge of the meadow, a platoon of twenty horse garonds charged.
Solienth turned his mare and rode as fast as he could back to the ruins for the spears that had been left behind. Yulenth wheeled Gladsir. Ronenth was caught in the storm of animals beginning to stampede.
“Help!” Ronenth cried.
Yulenth urged Gladsir and the noble animal sprang forward towards Ronenth. Yulenth held out his hand and swung the boy up onto the horse behind him. Then, they sprinted for the ruins.
Solienth looked back, he could see the horse garonds were nearly on Yulenth and Ronenth astride Gladsir. He had no time to reach their spears. He wheeled the red mare and rode back as fast as he could.
The horse garonds were slavering and angry. They swung their clubs and swords in circles over their heads, eager for a chance to kill.
As Solienth rode back, several aurochs turned and charged before him. Solienth suddenly got an idea. He rode back and forth, keeping himself directly behind the stampeding, beasts with their vicious horns.
And just as he hoped, as he guided the beasts into the horse garonds, the aurochs bent their heads and with their long, deadly horns gored the horses and their garond riders.
“Use the aurochs!” Solienth bellowed to Yulenth who had several horse garonds surrounding him.
But, Yulenth saw what had just happened and was ahead of him. He turned Gladsir and slapped a passing bull auroch on the haunch, and the huge animal speared two garonds as it thrashed its mighty head.
Gladsir was magnificent. It was as if he was born to herd aurochs. The horse and Yulenth turned aurochs into the garonds again and again, and the garonds had no defense.
In moments, every garond was dead or mortally wounded.
Yulenth rode up to the ruins.
“Get off and hand me two spears,” Yulenth said to Ronenth.
After he had done as instructed, Ronenth tried to get back on Gladsir.
“You wait here,” Yulenth said to Ronenth, and then galloped away before he could protest.
Yulenth handed a spear to Solienth, and the two of them rode back and forth in the meadow to finish any garond still alive.
All the rest of the afternoon, Yulenth and Solienth spent dragging the garonds and gored horses into a pile and burned them. Ronenth watched from the ruins of Glafemen, holding his body, shaking.
Finally, the mess was cleaned up, and the Glafs prepared dinner in the closing dusk.
“They were tracking those soldiers of the Northern Kingdom,” Solienth said.
“Should we go to Tyny?” Yulenth asked Solienth.
“We probably shouldn’t stay here,” he answered. “And, if a big battle is coming, no place in Wealdland will be safe.”
“I need to be with my wife,” Yulenth said.
“What of the boy?” Solienth mused.
“Look,” Ronenth said, pointing out at the animals of the meadow.
Yulenth and Solienth looked out to see every animal of the meadow flat on the grass, theirs heads down in fear.
“What does it mean?” Ronenth asked.
Yulenth and Solienth had no answer. Then, from the night sky, a screeching came in awful waves. As they looked up, the Wanderer moved quickly in an unnatural way across the heavens.
“What in Yonne’s name is that!” Solienth cried.
“Into the ruins!” Yulenth cried.
The three huddled in fear watching the horrible spectacle from behind huge, blackened granite stones, as Deifol Hroth, from some distant place in the south, moved the Wanderer out of its orbit.
Chapter Sixteen
The Weald
“Switch cloaks with me!” Matclew said. “They’ve seen you in the blue cloak. Maybe I can draw them away.”
Alrhett and Matclew quickly traded cloaks.
“That ramp leads up to the royal palace,” Matclew said, pointing. “There are some stalwart supporters, defying the curfew, waiting for you. Wait until I have drawn them off, before you go.”
“Do not fight them,” Alrhett said. “Just run as fast as you can.”
Matclew nodded and then sprinted away.
“Get her!” A chorus of men cried.
Alrhett turned to see Matclew, in the blue cloak, surrounded by assassins. Their swords plunged into his body again and again.
Alrhett wanted to scream, but her throat was paralyzed with fear. It felt as though her feet wouldn’t move. Then, somehow, she could sense that she was running, but she felt completely numb. Her sense of sound was cushioned and muted. But, her sense of sight and smell became almost too acute.
Down a ramp, she could smell every animal or perfume, which had moved along the path. Every shadow was in sharp definition. She could see the gates of the palace, and several citizens huddled by the entrance.
“Open the doors! Open the doors!” She screamed.
The men rose as if completely befuddled. Then they scrambled to action and opened the massive oak doors. Alrhett could feel the vibrations of the assassins speeding down the wooden ramp right behind her. The men in front of her drew their swords and set themselves.
Alrhett ran through the entrance and could hear, immediately behind her, the clash of sword on sword, the shouts and curses of men fighting and dying. It seemed an eternity as Alrhett waited just inside the gate. Then, a soldier she knew, splattered with blood entered.
“They are all dead, my queen,” he said with exhaustion.
“Bring all the bodies in quickly, and bar the door,” Alrhett said.
Once her
instructions were accomplished, messengers were sent to sympathetic households. As they went, the people of Rogar Li seemed to regain their courage, and awoke. Lights were lit, and the citizens began to gather outside the royal palace with riotous murmurs.
Matclew and Drepaw’s bodies were also brought in, with several other assassins they had slain in their attempt to make it to the palace. The outrage of the populace was growing. The assassins were unmasked and Alrhett allowed the citizens to enter and name them, as they filed past.
“Lord Nasinne and two of his vassals!”
“Lord Pidenco, his brother and two of their guards!”
And, many other high officials of Rogar Li were identified as base usurpers who had resorted to murder to further their aims.
An elderly woman entered and fell to her knees. “They should not be lying with these!” She cried.
“Who is this?” Alrhett asked.
“She is the mother of Drepaw and Matclew,” a soldier told her.
“Oh, my dear!” Alrhett exclaimed and ran to her side. She held the woman’s face and cried with her. “Please forgive me! Your sons have shown the greatest of love, not only for me, but for all of Rogar Li and the Weald!”
All were silent with respect.
“These two angels,” Alrhett stroked the hair of Matclew and Drepaw, “gave their very lives for the idea of the just rule of law here in the capitol. Honor their names as you would the great kings of old. Remove their bodies. Clean them, and set them aside, for We have dishonored them by allowing them to lie here with these vermin. If every man or woman would be willing to give all they have, as these two, unto their own lives, to see the safety and stability of our government, our peace, and the happiness of every child here in the Weald, then we would have a heaven here on earth.”
Alrhett sat and cried with Matclew and Drepaw’s mother as their bodies were removed with respect to be cleaned and dressed for their deserved honors.
“Tell me your name,” Alrhett asked.
“I am Meybonne,” she said. “And these,” she indicated two pale faced woman behind her, “were their wives, Prensy, and Kindoll.”
Alrhett felt the blood drain from her face as she beheld the two beautiful, young women who had just lost their noble husbands. Alrhett rose.
The Last Elf of Lanis Page 24
