Elf Lords: 02 - Last of the Elf Lords

by Richard Saunders

  Marlow begged forgiveness from the Warlord, demonstrating that it was Trian who controlled the strings of the puppet rebel leader.

  McRawl spoke up, “I will continue the hunt for her.”

  Trian had other plans, “Have search parties continue looking, although she is probably safely hidden in the Tilsaw by now. I have another task for you, Captain McRawl.”

  “What are your orders?” McRawl requested.

  Trian provided them, “We must prepare for General Kadoola’s arrival. It is too late to stop the summit. I will continue to hunt for the Sword of Alexon, but first I will return to Ducaine. I need something from the wizard to assist us.

  “While I travel back, locate your best archer. We are going to set a trap for Kadoola. I will provide you more information when I arrive.”

  “What do you have in mind?” Alister Marlow asked.

  Trian smiled for the first since before the failed attempt to capture the sword, “We will see to it that General Kadoola is assassinated in Kutur. Without their general, the Libertines will be forced to unite with us.”

  “We cannot permit even the slightest hint of our involvement in Kadoola’s death.” Marlow reminded his Warlord.

  “I assure you that you will be the last person that anyone will consider complacent in his death.”

  McRawl changed the subject. “I heard that you were injured in Cathaar.”

  Trian rubbed his chest, “Somehow that blasted half-elf saw through my disguise. They had to have some kind of dragon magic to use against me. I was injured by simple arrows! Seriously injured, I might add. That should be impossible. Never mind my wellbeing, see that my commands are handled promptly. Then wait for my return.”

  Trian waved his hand, causing the crystal orb to go dark.

  * * * * *

  “Oh dear.” Seebaul said, as the light vanished from the green crystal orb that he was using to eavesdrop on Trian’s conversation. He lifted the green staff that was leaning next to the orb. “We must not permit them to murder Kadoola.”

  “How did you do that?” Megan asked the Elf Lord.

  Behind the princess stood Seth, Doogal and Reldoor, the latter remained by Megan’s side as often as possible. The princess was either oblivious to Reldoor’s constant presence, or simply did not mind. Tessa was off taking care of the orphans living in Seebaul’s hidden Sanctuary.

  Seebaul answered her question, “These orbs are instruments created by the Dragon Lords, and bestowed to my brother Elf Lords and me, as a means of communicating. We each had one; each coincided with the color of our pearl. Mine is green. The others are black, red, and clear: it must have been too difficult to actually make it true white. There was another one, a silver orb that was used by the Dragon Lords to communicate to us. That one was destroyed. I saw it shatter myself. I kept mine, but the other three were lost. Somehow, Trian has discovered them. That is how I have been keeping track of him. With my orb, I have been able to monitor Trian’s conversations with those who were using the other two orbs. Thanks to Seth, I now have the red orb too.”

  “If they see each other, then how is it that they do not see you?” Doogal asked.

  “One of my brothers discovered that if we place our pearl beside the orb—like you saw me do just now—that it masks your use, making you an unseen spectator.”

  “Is there any way that I can communicate with my mother using that?” Megan asked.

  “The orbs only communicate with each other.” Seebaul explained. “Now, we need to find a way to warn General Kadoola that he is walking into a trap.”

  “Who cares,” Megan objected, “if the rebels are evil, then let them fight among themselves.”

  “Kadoola is not evil,” Seebaul corrected the princess, “indeed he is a fine man. He took part in the rebellion because of his opposition to the empire’s slave trade, and their mistreatment of the lower classes and the elves. If he could unite the two factions, then perhaps the empire can be overthrown and slavery ended. It was Kadoola who named their side The Libertines.

  “By comparison, the Lardashens are mostly landowners who oppose the Emperor for political reasons. Alister Marlow was a corrupt general who displeased his cousin somehow and was exiled. He is a great military strategist, but he is no friend of the people. If he were to take over, then nothing would really change.”

  “Marlow is a puppet.” Seth commented.

  Seebaul agreed, “Yes, Trian is the true power behind the Supreme Commander. In fact, his desire is not to overthrow Roole. This is just a means for him to get what he wants: the Pearls of the Elf Lords. With those, he plans to restore the Dragon Realm.”

  “What about my father?” Seth asked, “Trian plans to hunt him down too.”

  Seebaul stood up. His body swayed back and forth slightly as he spoke, “Yes, we must not permit that to happen either. Oh dear, there is so much to do and so little to do it with. I must protect the children, but we need to protect Kadoola and Landis.”

  The Elf Lord snapped his finger, “I have an idea, call for Tessa.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Riders.” Jaylen announced, long before anyone else—even Landis—had detected them.

  The six weary travelers looked about. They were standing in the middle of an open field with no place to hide. None of them liked the idea of being so exposed, but there was nothing that could be done about it. The Plains of Tikal were too vast to circumvent. They had to cross through them if they were to reach the next town and seek out more information. They just hoped that the Birhirmian Network had a spy residing there.

  In the distance they could see the looming forest of Tilsaw; the land that boarded the southernmost region of the Roolemian Empire. Somewhere deep in this forested land was where the Delowe’ elves had called home before they began migrating south. Jaylen and Landis both hoped that they could find one of the remnants of the Delowe’, who might be able to help them in their quest to rescue the princess.

  The riders appeared on the horizon and were headed in their direction.

  “Five horsemen.” Jaylen observed.

  “No archers.” Landis added.

  “Probably just a patrol,” Jordan suggested, “as long as they do not believe us to be bandits, we will probably be all right.”

  “I wouldn’t trust us.” Trevor Kahn countered. “We’re filthy, some of our clothes are bloodstained, and we’re armed to the teeth. Not your everyday traveling merchants.”

  “Some of these people have no love for elves or dwarves.” Landis warned.

  “Then perhaps you should let me do the talking.” Jordan offered.

  “We could let Landis shoot them off their horses with that bow of his.” Natis considered aloud.

  “If they are a patrol, then they would have alarm horns. I may be fast, but I doubt that I could get all five of them before one of them sounds the alarm.”

  “We are not killing innocent men.” Jordan reminded everyone.

  “That is fine,” Natis agreed, “as long as the innocent men do not try to kill us.”

  “Halt!” One of the riders ordered as they came near.

  “Everyone remain calm. I will speak with them.” Landis said, looking directly at Jordan.

  The Prince Regent held his tongue.

  One rider stopped a good distance back as the other four approached.

  “He will sound the alarm and ride back if we take action against the other four.” Trevor informed his companions.

  “Who are you and why are you traveling this way?” The lead rider asked. He was a stocky man with a thick brown mustache. All of the riders wore loose fitting, matching grey tunics and black pants. A patch consisting of three circles encompassing a star was on the left breast of each man’s tunic. The one who had spoken wore a white chord on his left shoulder; a common form of decorating a squad leader throughout the Empire. From his previous visits to the Eastland, Landis knew that the patch on their chest would be the symbol of the local militia or law enforcement,
and not empire soldiers.

  “We are travelers seeking shelter.” Landis half-lied.

  “Traveling from where, and on what business?”

  “Are you the local patrol?” Landis asked, “If so, then I will be happy to tell you our business.”

  The man with the white chord tapped the patch on his breast, “That we are, now talk.” He demanded.

  Landis looked to Jordan before continuing. “The three of us,” he pointed to his father and Trevor, “are all that remain of my lord’s protectors. The dwarf is our cook, and he cared for our horses, when we had them.” Pointing to Jordan and Natis he continued, “We are traveling with Wizard Tobias here, to take Lord Tomas to the Eastland Tower of the Magi, to see if he has what it takes to join their order. We were set upon by brigands two nights ago. They stole our horses and left three of our comrades dead.”

  The patrol leader looked them over. “A little old for an initiate seeking entry to become a mage, isn’t he?”

  Natis nodded, “He wasted his time serving the clerics of Jahen, before realizing his true potential.”

  “Tell me about these brigands.” The patrolman inquired, “We have heard that a band of thieves was seen creating havoc in Cathaar recently. It could be that you have come across the same men.”

  Landis replied, “I know nothing of Cathaar. We arrived by boat south of there, and have been traveling in this direction ever since. They attacked us at night, so we did not see their faces.”

  The man on the horse smirked, “They sound like a deadly lot. Perhaps they meant to stop you from your real purpose.”

  Those behind Landis prepared to take action.

  “I told you our purpose.”

  The patrolman winked, “And I believe you entirely. However, I have heard that there are bounty hunters in the region, seeking the return of a captured young maiden from the Westland. It would be of no surprise to find men coming to her rescue for the reward. I would do it myself, if I dared to go up against those responsible. But I am nothing more than a patrolman. Hunting road bandits and protecting our small community from wandering wildlife is enough to keep us occupied. Still, we have no love for those who kidnap girls, and would be happy to help those who oppose them. Perhaps for a donation to our unit, we can provide you with some information.”

  “Any news of what is going on in the land would be most appreciated.” Landis offered.

  The man grinned, “Then we have a deal.” He spat in his right hand and held it out to Landis. The half-elf repeated the action. As they shook hands, Landis observed a small tattoo of a serpent wrapped around an arrow, on the rider’s bicep.

  The patrol leader released Landis’ hand, “There is a tavern in town called The Black Crow. There is a man there named Waneyn, who claims to have helped a young woman escape. He knows not where she is, but he knows who has her, and who they are protecting her from.”

  “That is very valuable information.” Landis concurred. He turned his head to look in Jaylen’s direction. “Father, please reward these patrolmen accordingly.”

  “With pleasure.” Jaylen replied.

  Moving almost too fast to observe, the elf withdrew a throwing knife with each hand and threw them with deadly accuracy at the first two patrolmen. He had another pair drawn before the first two men began falling from their horses. Before their partners were able to react, they too were simultaneously struck by the elf’s knives. All four bodies toppled from their mounts.

  Landis spun back around, removing his bow from his shoulder and reaching for an arrow as he watched the fifth rider turn his horse and kick it to a run. He took aim and released the arrow, striking the rider square in the back.

  “What in the abyss are you doing?” A visibly shaken Jordan asked.

  “These men are assassins.” Landis declared.

  “How do you know that?”

  The half-elf walked over to the dead man who had been acting as the leader. “He has a Stalker’s Guild tattoo on his arm.”

  Jordan recognized the name of the Assassin’s Guild. “How do you know that they were all assassins?”

  “Check them out. I am certain that you will find the mark somewhere on each them.”

  “Their clothing is stolen.” Jaylen pointed to two of the bodies lying face down in the grass. “They have holes in the backs of their tunics where the original wearers were either stabbed or shot by an arrow. You can still see the blood stains. They have been scrubbed, but some blood is still there. You can never remove all of it.”

  “They obviously knew who we were and did not want to take us on face-to-face,” Trevor agreed, “so they hoped to trick us into going back to the city, where they no doubt have others waiting to assist them. We would be captured, or dead, by morning, if we followed their advice.”

  “So much for staying there.” Natis observed.

  “What do we do then?” Jordan asked.

  “We now have five horses. We can ride to the forest and follow along the edge, until we reach that town. Perhaps I can slip in and learn something on my own.” Landis suggested.

  “Why not ride through the forest and save time?” Weslocke asked.

  “Not a good idea,” Landis replied, “from what I have heard about the Tilsaw, that forest is not safe to travel into if you have not been welcomed by the Delowe’. We need to find someone who has access to lead us in.”

  “I thought that the Delowe’ migrated south.” Natis said.

  “Most did, but some stayed. Not all of those who remained behind welcome outsiders.” Landis explained.

  “I guess I get to ride behind one of you longlegs again.” Weslocke spat.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Night had fallen before the companions reached the edge of Tilsaw Forest. Rather than continue riding towards the town, they elected to ride into the trees to find a place where they could make camp. Remembering the warnings concerning the forest, they traveled only deep enough to prevent their camp fire being visible to anyone who might happen to pass through the plains, especially if that might happen to be an actual patrol out seeking those who had been murdered by the five assassin-imposters they had encountered earlier. They ate a dinner of dried meat and bread. Taking inventory of their rations made it obvious that someone was going to have to venture into town the following day to acquire more supplies.

  As they sat around the campfire, Jaylen arose and walked off into the darkness to relieve himself. A short time later he appeared from another direction than the one he had taken when he left. “Do not look around or react,” he whispered, as he took his seat beside Landis, “we are being watched.”

  “By who?” Landis asked.

  “I have no idea.” Jaylen answered.

  “Are you certain?” Weslocke mumbled, stretching his arms and offering a fake yawn as he looked off in the distance.

  “I am positive. I detected someone while I was off behind the trees. I made as if I was walking the parameter to go check on the horses, and all the while I kept sensing that someone was close by. But I could not locate them anywhere.”

  “Landis did say that elves live in this forest.” Natis suggested.

  “Perhaps it is elves,” Jaylen considered, “but by the name of the one true god of the elves, I swear to you that we are being watched.”

  “Maybe we should leave the forest while we can.” Jordan thought aloud.

  Trevor rejected the idea, “Not a wise move. If they can sneak up on us and elude Jaylen, then we will be at more of a disadvantage trying to maneuver in the dark while not knowing where they are.”

  “How many?” Landis asked his father.

  “I have no idea, but they seem to be all around us.”

  “We should keep watch in pairs tonight.” Trevor suggested.

  “Like I am going to sleep knowing that someone is out their watching us.” Weslocke muttered.

  Trevor looked at the camp fire. “We should put that out too. It is warm enough that we do not need it, and the light only li
mits our ability to see into the trees.”

  “Agreed.” Jaylen answered.

  * * * * *

  McRawl paced the empty courtyard, awaiting the arrival of Warlord Trian. He never felt comfortable when called to these secluded meetings. He served the Lardashen cause faithfully, and therefore obeyed Trian without question, but the Warlord disturbed McRawl. A half-elf who detested elves, and had the ability to shape shift into the form of others, as he had apparently done when posing as Princess Megan, was disturbing enough. But Trian had other, more frightening, things that made those pale in comparison. He somehow controlled a dragon, and McRawl had seen some of the so called experiments that the Warlord and his wizard had conducted. The captain respected Trian’s power, but was afraid of him even more. After hearing the details of Trian’s survival from what should have been three separate fatal blows, McRawl now believed that Trian was something far darker then he appeared to be.

  McRawl jolted when he heard the Warlord’s voice. “You are smarter than most men.” Trian said, as he appeared out of the darkness. Seeing the surprise on McRawl’s face, he said, “I have the ability to hear thoughts, too.”

  McRawl feared for his safety. The Warlord snickered, and said, “Relax, McRawl. I have more trust in you than I do in that pathetic excuse for a Supreme Commander. It is you and I who will win this revolution, not him.”

  “I have heard that there is evidence that the sword bearer is traveling through the Tilsaw.” McRawl commented, hoping to change the subject.

  “So I have been told.” Trian acknowledged. “It appears that some assassins who had been dispatched to locate them have been found dead on the plains near Sistle, yet our spies indicate that there has been no sign of any strangers in the town for days. So it is only logical that they must be attempting to travel through the forest on their way here. They probably have heard that the princess is no longer a captive.”