by Tamryn Tamer
“Prison is probably better than losing your lives,” Frost said while glaring at the low-level squires desperately trying to avoid jumping into the fray. He could probably kill most of the group but if he did then peace was off the table. “You need to decide which officer you’re going to listen to. The commander who ordered you to fall back, or the guy who violated those orders and attacked the commander.”
“Don’t listen to him,” the officer screamed while gesturing for the ranged units to prepare another volley. “He’s the enemy! Kill him! That’s an order!”
“Listen guys,” Frost said calmly as the soldiers trembled. “My original offer is on the table. Turn around, send a diplomatic delegation. You know, if you’re smart, you could also probably pin everything on that officer over there.”
Several of the soldiers immediately understood what he was suggesting and backed away slowly while nodding at each other. If they played everything right, they could all probably walk away unscathed.
“The way I see it,” Frost stared at the ones still trying to decide. “If it were me, and I witnessed an officer sucker punch my commander before blindsiding him with a baton like a coward, my priority would be capturing that traitor and getting my commander medical attention.”
The remaining soldiers all nodded and even the archers lowered their bows. They turned toward the officer and simultaneously decided the best course of action. The archers quickly kicked the officer’s legs out from under him and bound him with ropes as the others continued to put distance between themselves and Frost.
“Hey,” Frost pointed at one of the squires. The young man looked like he was about to piss himself. “I expect advance notice before a delegation is sent. That means a messenger first to announce the delegation. Understood?”
“Yes,” the squire stuttered out. “Advance notice before a delegation is sent.”
“Delegation,” the officer laughed. “Do you think we have ambassadors that talk to demis! Sure, once the ambassador to the maggots is back from his trip, we’ll just send him right over! Delegation? We’re going to send heroes to slaughter you!”
“Send them,” Frost’s fixed his eyes on the officer. “See how they match up against the Herald of Shalia.”
“Herald of Shalia?” the officer muttered out. “That’s impossible…you’re not even an elf!”
“If the elves don’t mind, then neither do I,” Frost said as he turned back toward the village. “Also, if you do send heroes, be sure to send enough to kill me or you’ll regret it.”
Frost immediately regretted adding that last part as turned to walk away. The highest level was the captain and he was lower level than Lysandra. If they sent a group of heroes in their fifties he was probably in trouble. Additionally, he’d already burnt through over half of his ability points and had no idea of how hard they were to earn.
“Let’s go,” the next highest level said as they retreated. “Double time before he changes his mind.”
Frost took his time enjoying the walk back to the village and about halfway back Renna appeared next to him. The green-haired elf’s face contorted like she was struggling with a series of difficult math problems. She glanced up at him momentarily before turning her gaze back toward the path.
“Huh?” Frost glanced down as the elf wrapped her fingers in his. “What’s that about.”
“What? It’s okay for that old hag to touch you but I can’t?” Renna asked with a playful grin. “Are you really our Herald?”
“No idea,” Frost answered.
“Then why did you say it?” Renna asked.
“It seemed like a good decision at the time,” Frost laughed. “Let’s just get back to the village.”
CHAPTER 6
When Frost and Renna arrived back in the village the wagons were packed and the elves were all loaded up. The only person who wasn’t packed was Lysandra who sitting at a table in front of her temple having a drink and reading as if everything was fine. Ena and Fayeth were so engrossed in trying to force Lysandra to hop on a wagon they didn’t even notice Frost and Renna enter the village.
“What are you fighting about now?” Frost asked as he approached. Ena and Fayeth reflexively reached for their weapons before realizing there was no reason to. Both of them fixed their eyes on Renna’s hand in his.
Frost tried to pull his hand from Renna’s but the petite elf had a surprisingly firm grim. Any attempt to tug or twist his hand away resulted in her going with the flow to avoid losing the connection. Her ability to read his movements would be impressive if it weren’t so annoying.
“They were insisting we leave while we have the chance,” Lysandra stood up and smiled politely while glancing at Frost’s hand. “So, things went well then?”
“The Zirans withdrew,” Renna answered while making a show of pulling on Frost’s hand as if she were declaring war with Lysandra. “Would you like a full report?”
“Yes,” Lysandra gestured at the elves listening in on the conversation while ignoring Renna’s attempt at baiting her. “I would like the others to know exactly what happened.”
Renna explained in nearly perfect detail what had occurred down to exact quotes. Although she was strangely detailed when describing his appearance and movements during the conflict. Maybe it was nothing but he felt her choices of descriptors were rather flattering and he couldn’t help but smile.
“Really?” Frost grinned. “You think my smile is roguish?”
“Mmhm,” Renna nodded.
“He called himself our herald?” a red-haired elf looked at Lysandra for guidance.
“Are you really a herald?” a hopeful elf woman asked. Frost found himself a little tongue tied as the bright-eyed elves eagerly waited for a response to the question. As he looked around, the entire village appeared to be waiting for a response and it was rather unnerving.
“About that,” Frost smiled nervously. “I don’t really...”
“But you said that you were,” one of the elves chimed in. “Right?”
“In the heat of the moment,” Frost said defensively.
“Have you really met Shalia?” another elf said excitedly before turning to Lysandra who appeared completely calm. “If he met Shalia then he must be a herald, right Lysandra?”
“Maybe it’s a trick?” another volunteered.
“If it’s a trick we should run,” an azure-haired elf insisted. “When the Zirans come back, they’re going to be furious about being deceived.”
“Frost?” Lysandra stepped toward him and took his free hand in hers. Renna uttered several profanities under her breath while possessively tugging on the hand she was holding. Lysandra rolled her eyes at the petite elf before turning her attention back to Frost. “What do you think? It’s up to you after all.”
“Up to me?” Frost shook his head. “I already told you that I’m not really…”
“Frost,” Lysandra interrupted before he could respond. “We’re not asking you to be anything other than yourself.”
“He already said he’s not,” Ena objected. She turned her cerulean eyes on Frost and pointed her cudgel at him. “And he’s a human. It’s obvious he’s some imposter.”
“Ena’s right,” another elf said. “He’s a human. We should hurry and leave.”
“Whatever you decide,” Lysandra smiled lovingly. “But, if you choose to be our herald, I’ll stay with you.”
“I’ll stay with you too!” Renna agreed loudly in an obvious attempt to one up Lysandra.
“This is ridiculous,” Ena grumbled.
“She’s right you know,” Frost gestured at Ena as he looked around. The way the bright-eyed elves hopefully stared filled him with guilt. He didn’t really understand what it meant to be a herald and he certainly didn’t want the responsibility but it was obvious they were desperate for one. Hell, they had to be if they wanted him. “I’d make an awful herald. I don’t want to be responsible for anybody but myself. I’m a human and the defining factor of humans is we’re sel
fish, greedy, narcissistic bastards who’d drag ourselves to the bottom of the ocean if it meant hurting somebody we hated. I’m no different.”
“There’s something we agree on,” Ena smirked.
“Then whey did you protect us?” Fayeth asked smugly.
“Because I’m a greedy, selfish, narcissist,” Frost retorted. For the most part it was true. He knew damn well if he’d fallen into a village of hairy dwarves they would have been on their own. “I don’t expect you to understand but I assure you, I’m the last person you want to follow.”
“Frost,” Lysandra laughed while lovingly stroking his arm. “It’s fine if you want to be selfish. It’s selfish of us to ask this of you. But you’re worried about things that don’t matter. The only prerequisite to being a herald is to love your followers. Can you do that? Or do you find us unlovable?”
“Oh, that’s some manipulative shit and you know it Lysandra,” Frost laughed while trying to pull his hand away. She quickly latched on to him while burying her face in his arm and he leaned to make eye contact with the violet-eyed priestess smiling mischievously at him. “Do you really want this?”
“Please,” she whispered. “Love us.”
“Dammit,” Frost groaned as he looked around the village. “Fine! I’ll be your herald! But I warned yo…”
Frost was interrupted by the excited cheers of the elves as several ran to the carts to unload their satchels. He’d never seen so many joyful smiles and he noticed a few of them were crying. It would have been exciting for him if it weren’t so damn off-putting.
“I don’t get it,” Frost shook his head. “I really don’t get it.”
“Shalia is an elven goddess of love,” Renna said cheerfully. “And you’re her herald. It’s only natural that people are happy.”
“Don’t think this means I’ll trust you,” Ena said irritably. “You’re still a human and humans are all the same. Being the herald doesn’t change that.”
“But,” Fayeth walked past Ena and nodded politely at Frost. Her emerald eyes appeared to be filled with a healthy skepticism as she measured him up. “As far as heralds go, you’re doing a good job.”
“I really don’t get any of this,” Frost sighed as the elves continued to celebrate around him. “I can just say I’m the herald and you all believe me? Do you know how insane that is? Shouldn’t Shalia have given me some type of brand or holy mark or something? Why are you so happy?”
“We’re happy that you chose us,” Lysandra said as if it answered his questions. Lysandra turned him toward the elves celebrating. “You willingly chose us. Not because Shalia commanded it, not because of some mark, and not because of some sense of obligation. But because you love us.”
“Love’s a strong word,” Frost mumbled.
“Herald Frost,” Lysandra lifted his hand to her lips and kissed it gently. “Us followers of Shalia are hated even by our own race. The fact you don’t seem to hate us is more than enough.”
“Hated? Who could ever hate you?” Frost asked while remembering that the commander also pointed out that they were followers of Shalia. They seemed peaceful enough but he was starting to wonder if he’d walked into something.
“Followers of Shalia are believed to be cursed,” Lysandra said. “Some of us were left for dead, some of us were orphans of war, some of us lost everybody to plague or famine. It’s believed that wherever we go, suffering follows. We are normally either chased off or killed, not only by humans. Even other elves hate us and no males will have us out of fear of poisoning their bloodline.”
“Not even cursed males?” Frost asked while looking around the village and noticing the village was mysteriously lacking.
“Elf females outnumber elf males four to one,” Lysandra answered. “While it’s rare, a cursed male is still normally able to find a family willing to accept them. A cursed bloodline is better than no bloodline.”
“Economics,” Frost scoffed. “Good to know those rules apply in this world.”
“Hey,” a tiny voice said from below him. Frost looked down to see a small elf girl tugging on his pants. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Frost said awkwardly. He’d never really liked being around kids, they always seemed to want something and he never quite knew how to respond. Half the time he’d end up looking around for an adult as if he were a child himself. It was just awkward.
“I’m Emmy,” the girl said while holding up a worn-out doll. “This is Lucinda.”
“Hi Emmy,” Frost nodded at the happy girl and there it was, the strange sense that she wanted something. And sure enough, he ended up looking at Lysandra as if he were a child himself. Lysandra gestured at the doll and Frost realized what she wanted. “Nice to meet you Lucinda.”
“Lucinda says nice to meet you too,” Emmy replied as her blushing mother, or sister, or guardian tugged her arm. Regardless, she was a stunning elf with bright blue hair and matching eyes.
“I’m so sorry Herald Frost,” the blushing elf bowed politely. “It won’t happen again.”
“It’s not a problem,” Frost said as the woman walked Emmy to a pink haired elf. She immediately started chiding the other elf woman for celebrating instead of watching the child.
“Families that are willing to adopt orphans do so,” Lysandra said after noticing Frost’s interest. “Also, before you run around sowing your seed, some of the women here are married and take their vows very seriously.”
“Lith and Aila are a particular couple you should avoid,” Renna said. “Ena once flirted with Aila and found a dead rabbit in her bed. I once flirted with Lith and woke up covered in animal urine. They’re a very jealous couple and both skilled thieves.”
“Although we’re not all jealous,” Lysandra smiled at Frost. “Some of us are more open to sharing than others.”
“Frost,” Renna tugged on his arm while glaring at Lysandra. “It’s about time somebody told you the truth about that evil woman. Lysandra is old, tired, on her last leg. The decrepit old whore only has a few more years in her. Seriously, she has maybe fifty to a hundred good years left. If you stare at her long enough, you can actually see the life fading away. She’s very old. She’ll dry within the next decade. There are deserts younger and wetter than the old hag. That’s why you should choose somebody young. But not too young. Preferably somebody between the age of twenty-five and twenty-seven would be ideal. Those are also ideal child bearing years for elves.”
“There are deserts younger?” Lysandra growled. “That’s a new one.”
“Ideal child bearing years?” Fayeth stared at Renna’s small chest. “Are you sure you want to use fertility as a measurement with proportions like yours?”
“I can’t believe you all,” Ena sneered. “I don’t want a human anywhere near me! I’m saving myself for a noble elf who realizes how amazing I am!”
“You’ll be saving yourself forever,” Renna said sarcastically. “Before you know it, you’re going to be alone and all dried up like Lysandra.”
“Dried up?” Lysandra smiled while staring malevolently at Renna.
“Shut up!” Ena snapped. “I have plenty of time to avoid ending up like the high priestess!”
“Rania, Sumina,” Lysandra gestured at two rustically dressed elves to come over. “Renna has volunteered to not only help you put away all of the wagons and animals but to help clean the stables as well! Isn’t that kind of her?”
“Monster,” Renna said while turning to Frost for salvation. “You’re the herald. Protect me.”
“Don’t look at me,” Frost shook his head at the pleading elf. “You’re the one that called Lysandra a bunch of names. Personally, I love her. She’s been amazing.”
“Love?” Lysandra’s face turned bright red as she excitedly pulled on his arm.
“Shit,” Frost stopped himself. It wasn’t the first time he’d awkwardly blurted it out but normally it was during sex. “Not that kind of love! I love being with you! I loved sleeping with you! But I don’t love you! It’s n
ot love-love. You get it? I like you but I don’t love you! I just met you! I don’t even know you…”
Frost stopped himself as he realized over half the elves in the vicinity were staring at him. Most of them were red-faced and several covered their mouths to hide their embarrassment. He wasn’t entirely sure what part of his insane string of nonsense caused the reaction since it could have been any of it.
“You slept with the high priestess?” an elf whispered. “But she’s so old.”
“Really?” Frost looked back at Lysandra as if to confirm he wasn’t going crazy. Sure enough, she was probably the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, pointy ears and all. As gorgeous as she was, she could have been a thousand years old for all he cared, he’d have to be blind not to want her. “I don’t get it. She’s gorgeous.”
“But her hair lost its color,” a violet-haired elf said.
“And she’s not very shiny,” another volunteered.
“Don’t forget about the wrinkles,” an energetic blue-haired elf said.
“Wrinkles?” Frost stared at Lysandra as the gorgeous elf looked down bashfully. “She doesn’t have a single wrinkle! And her white hair is beautiful! And her skin is blindingly shiny! I don’t get it!”
“Really?” Lysandra clasped her hands together. “Do you really think so?”
“Oh!” Renna snapped her fingers. “I know! The herald has poor vision!”
“That’s right,” Fayeth nodded in agreement. “Human vision isn’t nearly as good as ours.”
“Herald Frost,” a tall slender elf approached him. She smiled anxiously while pushing her long red hair behind her ears to give him a better look at her face. “How do you think I compare to Renna?”
“Don’t use me as a comparison Mira,” Renna said through clenched teeth.
