The Tuskan Prince (The Caine Mercer Series Book 2)

by Cale Madison

  “Thank you, Ivan.” she said as the knight then left her with two watchful guards.

  ***

  A battalion of elves led us to a deeper section of Avenwood, where we could see a visible clearing ahead. For the life of me, I could not remember what direction we had been walking since we left the witch campsite. The dense treetops restricted most of the afternoon’s sunlight. A great basin opened up in the clearing, filled with interlocked trees that served as shelters for the many inhabitants.

  These trees had to be hundreds of years old. The leaves on the ground were dried and crunched beneath my boots as I walked. I noticed an absolute silence as the elves around us peered down from their cottages. There were no lizards darting between the blades of grass, no spiders crawling along their webs or woodpeckers drumming into the birches above. I saw no movement in the tree crowns above, only beady eyes staring in fear and confusion.

  “Well, we’re not in shackles so that’s a good sign.” Skalige muttered as we walked in the center of the elven soldiers, “They’re not dark elves either. Must be the other kind.”

  “I’d say a good sign is that you’re not castrated. What other kind?”

  “They hate us for different, slightly less incriminating reasons. Avenwood’s ruled by the elf-king, Gwydion. I’ve heard a few stories about him.” he answered.

  We followed the soldiers across a fallen tree, which led us to a village nestled in the branches of a massive oak that seemed to expand throughout the forest. As we crossed multiple rickety bridges, I refrained from peeking over the ledge or looking down at all. The higher we ascended into the hidden city, I found that more elves would appear. They leapt from their crawl spaces and hidden shelters, easing along the sturdiest branches to watch us pass beneath them. Skalige and I soon found ourselves standing in a decorated pavilion with an audience of elves surrounding something spectacular in the center.

  A pool of shimmering water, contained within a fantastically-designed podium, rested in the middle of this open area. Each of the elves withdrew cautiously as they saw me; some of them wore hideous scars and burn marks on their faces and bodies, shrieking in fear as I stepped towards them. Skalige always knew how to hold his composure perfectly in these kinds of situations. Four elders approached us, bowing out of respect before leading us to the pool. Their eyes were as blue as the clearest of spring water; their skin and hair - pale as freshly fallen snow and unblemished.

  One of them whispered something in their native tongue before reaching into the pool, lightly running one finger along the glass-like surface of the water. The other three elders did the same and then turned to us, as if we were supposed to follow suit. I touched the water next, feeling the cold liquid resonate on the tip of my forefinger for a second before I withdrew it. After Skalige’s turn, I noticed that the rippling never ceased and continued to produce endless waves that sent quakes throughout the pool. Once the shaking was over, a voice echoed from its bowels, speaking directly to the elves in their language. We stood there, unaware of what was happening as another, more distinguished elf joined us on the pavilion, donning a crown forged of pure gold and silver armor. His hair was as white as his pale face and his kind, ice-blue eyes pierced mine from across the pool.

  “On behalf of the council, the good residents of Avenwood and my family, I want to extend to you both our deepest gratitude.” he announced to us in our language, “Because of your heroic efforts, my daughter, Eodyn lives to see another day. I speak solely for each family who has regained their lost children, their brothers and their sisters, when I thank you for your deeds.”

  I glanced over to Skalige, who also held a look of perplexity; we hadn’t realized that the prisoners we had freed were elf children. He then whispered, “I didn’t have time to check their bloody ears. How was I supposed to know?”

  The King and his council members bowed together, respectfully.

  “You're welcome.” I replied for the both of us.

  “Anything from our palace is yours to take.” King Gwydion proclaimed to us, “As long as you remain within our borders, you will be under our protection. Such acts of heroics will never be forgotten. I am curious, though, as to what you were doing in our woods earlier this day?”

  “Your Grace, we’re tracking a young boy who’s gone missing from the Tuskan Palace.” I answered, hearing the soft murmurs and muttering from the council, “Prince Malachi, eldest son to King Darius Lockmour. He was last seen crossing into your wood in pursuit of a giant.”

  Gwydion paused for a moment to converse with one of the elders standing at his side, before replying, “Yes, we’ve heard from our scouts that a young boy passed through nearly a week ago.”

  “Where was he headed, your Grace? Which direction?” Skalige asked.

  “North, to the foothills. At least, that’s what our scouts reported. They claim that he wore heavy armor, like that of a grown knight’s and carried an iron-clad sword with a beautiful design.”

  “That’s our boy.” Skalige muttered, nudging my shoulder.

  “And you’ve seen this giant? The one the prince was chasing?”

  “Yes, my friend, I’ve seen him...the scourge of our lands. The monster that dwells in Gorgon has devastated a quarter of our forest without the slightest notion. His skin cannot be penetrated by our sharpest arrows. He breathes the toxic gasses of our marshes, yet he does not suffocate. We are in the presence of a being that could slaughter every last one of us, and there is nothing we can do to stop him. The best we can do is wait until he decides to sleep again, or until he vacates his mountain dwelling.” the Elf-King said, gravely.

  “Doesn’t sound like a very kingly move to me...” Skalige began to mutter before I shot him a glaring look.

  “He shares the same impulses as a shark,” he continued to say as he dipped his hand in the glimmering pool, “forever eating and on the move. Attacking only enrages it. I’ve lost many good soldiers to this beast. You’re hunting it? I could not imagine the bounty on his head. Every city in the northern lands has suffered tremendously.”

  “We’re tracking the prince, not the giant.”

  “Then, I suggest you get some rest. The prince is not foolish enough to cross into the Further, nor was he dressed for the blistering cold. If he is still alive, you will find him in the mountains. I’m certain of it. I urge you both to stay in our home tonight, as our honorary guests.”

  “Thank you for the offer, Your Grace, but we can’t b-”

  Skalige interrupted me with a glaring look.

  “Surely, you would not reject a king’s invitation?” Gwydion asked, “I insist.”

  The baron leaned in and whispered, “Elven wine gets you drunk five times faster than any ale in the Southern Isles. I’ve had enough with wading through marshes. I’m fuckin’ tired, brother. Let’s enjoy ourselves for a little while.”

  I thought for a moment, glancing between the two.

  “Don’t ruin this for me, Caine.” Skalige hissed.

  “Very well. We’d be honored. Thank you, Your Grace.”

  I nodded to the Elf King and thanked them for their cooperation.

  We were then led by elven guards to another extended section of homes in the trees, directly connected to the council pavilion. The craftsmanship of this village was the most impressive artwork I had ever laid my eyes upon with connecting bridges, pulley systems that delivered families between houses and shafts that carried them to the forest floor. Elves soared through the many trees by wrapping their gloved hands around sturdy vines, extending between the elevated houses in different areas of the village. Astonished, I watched as they traveled great distances in a matter of seconds.

  “It’s incredible.” I said to Skalige as we followed Errohal.

  “Elves are not known as valiant fighters but their architectural designs are superb.” he replied, “If Ataman would get their heads outta their asses, they’d see how much work they could accomplish with their help.”

  I recognized m
any of the elf children from the witches’ campsite as they played together below. They would halt to watch while we ascended the stairs into the tree homes, either waving or staring in admiration. Skalige nudged my arm, gesturing towards a carpenter who was suspended by a pulley system, constructed of vines and rope. The dangling elf used picks to chip away at a tree, gradually forming another pavilion out of its thick trunk.

  The guards brought us into another pavilion that rested above a series of cabins in the branches of another large, sturdy tree. I noticed that each house we had come across in this village did not bear walls of any kind, nor a roof - the beds were hammocks that hung from rafters in branches above and concealed multiple escape routes in case of an attack.

  Errohal and his guards left us in our room. Skalige proceeded to leap into his hammock-bed and made himself comfortable while I looked over the designs of the veranda. Minutes of silence passed before I overheard a tremendous, banging sound from behind me. I turned to see my companion collapsed on the floor, writhing in sudden shock and pain. We both laughed, seeing as he was too heavy to sleep in an elven hammock.

  “Bloody elves and their little bodies.” he hissed from the floor, resembling a turtle that had been flipped over on its shell, “Perhaps, we could place a special request for larger beds? I mean, we did rescue their damn kids.”

  “Doubtful. Let’s be grateful that we chose not to run or we’d be rotting in their prison cells right now.”

  “It was my idea.” Skalige replied, “I deserve the fancy blades and armor. They can give you a horse or a hammock. I’ll allow that. Maybe.”

  I waved away my friend’s sarcasm and sat down on a bench across from him. Aketa suddenly crossed my mind; I lifted my fingers to grab the other half to her heart pendant but felt nothing there. A wave of panic came over me instantly as I realized that it had fallen off in the marshes.

  “Shit...shit, shit, shit…” I said aloud while searching the room.

  “What?”

  “Aketa’s pendant, it’s gone!” I exclaimed, anxiously.

  “Oh, no. I can’t believe...how will either of you move forward from this?” he said, sarcastically slapping his forehead.

  “You’re not helping!” I snapped, “It might’ve fallen off while we were running through the forest. I have to go back. I have to.”

  “If you fret like this over a necklace, I’d hate to be there when you two decide to have children.” the baron said with a laugh, “What a sight, that’d be!”

  “It’s not just a...nevermind. I’ll go alone.”

  “I’m coming with you.” he replied before I stopped him with a wave of my hand. My friend shot me a glare, as if startled that I would dare oppose a warlord. He turned away, showing only his disfigured half as he vigorously scratched his scalp and muttered, “Damned tree bugs.”

  “I’ll take a few of their guards. It won’t take long and besides, you need your beauty sleep, princess. I’ll return within a few hours.” I said and he reluctantly nodded.

  “You’re starting to sound more and more like me every day. Wait...” the baron interrupted as I began to leave, “I was planning on giving this to you in a more romantic setting but this’ll have to do. Little token to remember me by, should you lose your way as you always do.”

  He placed a miniscule shard of smudged glass into my palms. I could see my filthy reflection as I gazed down at it. “A broken piece of glass?”

  “No, stupid, it’s from that night on the tower. One of the pieces from the djinn’s mirror. I grabbed it before we left. Use it when you need to look at your, eh, hair and have no reflection.” he said with a hearty laugh.

  “Why would you keep a piece of the mirror?”

  “Just shut it, Caine. Accept the gift and get a move on. Every minute you waste, that pendant sinks deeper and deeper into the swamp. Hurry now! I’ll see if I can summon some cute dryads in this tree.” he said, knocking his knuckles against the great oak behind him, “Think it’ll work?”

  I shoved the shard into my pocket and left in a hurry.

  ***

  One of the more aggravating complications of traveling with elves was the consistent singing. It was as if they had literally rehearsed their entire lives to sing a multitude of songs in their foreign tongue with a determination to drive me mad. Seven elven guards and I crossed familiar paths through the forest on our journey to the last area I could remember seeing the pendant. The marshes stunk to high heavens. I did not recall such a foul odor, but it could very well be noticed now that we were not sprinting through them.

  I scoured the dark grass, the ferns, the green water and found nothing in the muck of the outer marshes. I prompted the guards to follow me towards the witches’ campsite, where we had first found the prisoners. The guards spoke in elvish tongue to each other, whispering what I could not understand.

  “Not rude at all, no.” I said to myself, feeling more alone than ever.

  The foul smells of the wetlands filled my nostrils, tarnishing my senses with a pungent odor of rotting flesh and boiling mud. I suddenly uncovered something protruding from beneath the water’s muck: a small bone, no bigger than a child’s finger. I realized that the witches had been tossing the remains of their victims in the marshes for some time, as I came across several dozens of other bones scattered around. I raised it to show the elves, prompting them to mutter something to one another before I dropped it back into the water.

  My boots sunk into the mud if I stood in one place for too long. The squelching sound would break the silence as I paced back and forth, searching in the reeds. My boots were beginning to fill with water. The humidity scorched my skin, cooling it at the same time and left me in a perpetual state of unpleasantness. The air in this swamp felt hot and muggy, as if I were fighting to breathe in a cloud of smoke. Water beetles dashed across the surface, making beelines towards nearby embankments. The elves neglected to speak in the Common Tongue; I awkwardly avoided eye contact as they spoke in elvish to one another.

  We spent an hour trudging through the marshes. When all hope was lost of finding Aketa’s pendant, I prepared to return to their village in defeat. As I stepped towards the guards, my foot brushed against something heavy in the water. Something was halfway buried in the brown muck. I reached down to pull a small black box from the soft mud beneath the surface. Wrapped around it was the necklace.

  “What the...” I started to say as I examined the box before returning the pendant to my neck. Tiny, golden letters in a foreign language were inscribed around its edges. I scraped the remnants of mud still caked on the outside to examine further. Mosquitos began buzzing around my ears, drowning out the screeches of owls in the trees above. After placing my ear to it, I found that there were no mosquitos, but that the mysterious box was indeed humming.

  “Exë nodorin,” one guard barked at me in a commanding tone, “Qenya!”

  With his hand outreached, the elf appeared to be demanding that I hand over the box. Soft voices in my head whispered for me to hold it close. The elven guard repeated his command and, when I did not comply, brandished his sword as if intending to threaten me. The seven armored elves drew their weapons as well, keeping their eyes trained on the box in my hands as if they recognized it. I could feel a powerful sensation resonating from the box, as if some dark magic were trying to speak to me.

  “Whoah, whoah!” I shouted, holding my left palm out to show that I meant no harm.

  “Quenya!” the elf repeated, raising his spear.

  Suddenly, a deep rumbling came from afar. Quakes in the earth that sent ripples across the marshes’ water and shook the trees where they stood erupted throughout Avenwood. The elves stood, stupefied as they turned to locate the source of the noise, catching their attention for enough time for me to break away. With my heart pounding and knees wobbly, I blindly sprinted into the forest. I hadn’t made it far before another noise came crashing through the trees behind us.

  The foot of an overwhelmingly tall monster s
mashed into several large oaks, ripping them from their roots and sending waves across the marshes. I dove behind a fallen tree and buried myself beneath the mud, listening to the screaming of the guards. I glanced over the tree’s trunk to witness a titan’s hand reach down from above the trees, lift three of the elves to its height and then omit the most horrendous crunching sound imaginable. Three limp, decapitated corpses rained down, landing hard upon the forest floor in a pool of dark blood.

  Only three remained, each with a strong determination to avenge their fallen brothers in arms. One after the other, they scaled trees and leapt onto the giant’s shins, slicing and cutting their way into its dense skin to no avail. A single swipe from the behemoth’s hand and the guards were launched into the air with ease, brutally colliding against other trees. Their attacks were laughably futile against something so incredibly massive.

  Now, only I and the monster remained. Without much thought, I dove into the shallow water and crawled behind an overturned, hollowed log. Peering through a hole, I noticed the many scars on its knees that had never properly healed, along with its yellowed toenails and manner of stepping without a second’s thought. Coarse, black hair covered the lower half of its body, from the waist to the upper thighs. Strung along the giant’s belt were a variety of gleaming, triumphant swords. It keeps weapons as trophies?

  I also counted an absence of guards lying in the sludge, indicating that the giant also takes the bodies of its victims. Knowing that I had to follow it, I abandoned my hiding place to keep in close pursuit of this monster as it charged above the tops of Avenwood. Every footstep tremor would knock me to my knees as I ran at a great distance behind. My eyes stung from the rising gases of the marsh but I pressed on, continuing to chase this murdering beast for nearly half-an-hour before it led me to the edge of the woods. The giant had already made its way across a field, nearly half a mile from my position.