To Claim the Elvin Princess: Apprentice

by Jack Bessie

  “We would do better if there were no Elvin!” Katoric sneered.

  “You are a fool to consider such even possible...they are like grains of sand on the shore...endless in number. All we might hope for is to win their respect, and force them to better accommodate our people...and even that may prove beyond our ability!”

  “If everyone is as defeatist as you, it will be likely!” Katoric suggested.

  Hacarim finally tired of listening, and went out. He soon came across Shocara, who had noted his visit to her father’s cabin.

  “You felt the urge to hear me criticized?” she asked, knowing such was likely. Hacarim grinned and shrugged.

  “Katoric seems much in love with the past, and wishes still for it to be as it once was. He seems obsessed with wanting to destroy the Elvin, but has no understanding of what power they truly possess!” Shocara insisted, scowling. “We are fortunate that he no longer leads,” she added.

  “Perhaps...I suppose in time we will see,” he replied and walked off, leaving Shocara to stare after him, unsure if she had just been insulted or not.

  When they were eating the next meal, Shocara was asked about her plans for the Elvin captives.

  “We don’t need more to feed during the winter...if you intend to send them away, it needs to be done soon!” one of the warriors suggested, an Eridian named Coutarim.

  “This is true, but we have to find a way to do such, that won’t be committing suicide! The Elvin aren’t likely to welcome us should they see us arriving in large numbers, with their people in hand!”

  “Why don’t we drop them at an isolated Elvin village, where there are few Elvin fighters? If the one who speaks our language could be persuaded to inform them of our desire to not fight...”

  “They would likely never give us a chance to make our intent known!” Hacarim suggested.

  Shocara sat, listening to the debate, observing how the men tried to influence each others thinking. Finally, she grew tired of the debate, and banged her cup on the table. All fell quiet, and turned to look at her.

  “The simplest answer is to land just outside a village as it gets dark, and to have the Elvin walk a short distance to the village, while we retreat silently. It isn’t hard!” she insisted.

  “But where might we choose, that would be less well defended...a large force might well pursue us, and do us harm!”

  “We will choose after spying on them! Now, we need to plan a raid on some larger Elvin place,” she declared. “We need to keep the Elvin occupied and focused on other things!”

  It was three days later when word reached her that the Elvin had been seen moving a large group of their flyers from the city of Usaritien, going east.

  “Maybe they will go visit the Kaderi, and inflict their displeasure on them! Come, let us take advantage of their absence, and see what we might do to annoy them!” Shocara proclaimed, eager to be doing something.

  They spent the rest of the day preparing, having sent word to the neighboring villages to have their flyers come and join them at first light. They would have to fly all day, and then continue on the following one, arriving to attack at near midday. They would be lucky to reach Eridian territory before nightfall on their return, especially if they were delayed in departing, but decided it was worth the risk.

  Shocara wandered the village, fretting more than normal about whether her warriors were ready or not. She sensed a complacency, a disregard for the Elvin that disturbed her. When she spoke of this at the evening meal, many seemed amused, and sought to reassure her.

  “Princess! We know how to fight the Elvin! As long as we are not overwhelmed by a huge number of them, we will hold our own. We can certainly withdraw, should things turn against us!” one declared, speaking for most.

  “If they allow us to,” she muttered, disturbed by the memory of a dream that had come to her a week before, wherein masses of Eridian flyers had fallen from the sky, forced to battle with their swords against scores of Elvin. In spite of this, she could find no real reason to worry, but thought it wise to be cautious.

  “We shall keep at least a third in the air, and not commit them to the ground!”

  “But Princess...that makes it more likely that those on the ground will be forced to give ground, and accomplish little!” Hacarim complained.

  “Perhaps, but if all are landed, we become sitting prey, easy to be taken. If we have problems, those still awing will be our only hope of escape! I have no desire to be trapped and taken!”

  “You worry too much about the Elvin!” Hacrim said disgustedly. “You should trust our own men and swords better!”

  Shocara stared at him, before standing, and stripping off her blouse. When she was bare, she turned, displaying a dozen scars, several of which were long and jagged. The men seemed mesmerized by these, as much as by her full and well shaped breasts.

  “You know my skill with steel! Yet I am well marked by the Elvin, whom you dismiss as somehow less worthy? Do not be fools...they are deadly foes!” she said, almost in a whisper, the room so quiet no sound could be heard. “We will do as I say!” she declared, covering herself. “Pray to the Gods any of us return!” she said, and walked out.

  She found Garen at her terranon, checking all her harness.

  “Do you never rest?! she laughed, delighted by his concern.

  “I should not wish to be careless, and have you fall off, due to my lack of attention!” he chuckled. Occasionally someone’s’ harness failed, and they plunged to their death. Such a fate had caused Katuric’s fall and crippling, and Garen had no desire to see such befall Shocara.

  “You are always so dutiful!” she insisted, touching his arm.

  “Why are you upset?” he asked, his long years attending her making him well able to read her subtle moods.

  “I find myself exasperated at times, by how little respect our people hold the Elvin in! They make light of their skills, when they should be in awe! I find belittling our enemy to make ourselves feel better to be more than foolish!”

  “You are wise to regard them well. Having fought them, and suffered from that skill, I would caution all to respect them!” Garen sighed. “Where are you going this time?”

  “To the Elvin city of Usaritien...reports say most of their flyers departed two days ago, and disappeared far into the east! I hope they stay gone, and don’t return untimely, while we are visiting!” she insisted and laughed.

  The next morning, the outlying warriors arrived early, and all departed, eager to be underway. They flew long, under a dark, cloudy sky, finally stopping late, near the fringe of Eridian territory. Shocara considered how best to make the approach of Usaritien, wishing to give the Elvin as little warning as they could. The straightest path from there current place took them over a dozen Elvin villages, but to reach it completely un-noted would add an hour to their flight. It was finally decided that they would veer west slightly, and so miss all but a couple of villages. Shocara hoped they could out race any potential warning.

  Late at night, when the moon had arisen, she woke, and laid quietly, considering a dream that had disturbed her. In it, they had arrived at an Elvin city, but instead of surprising the Elvin, they had been met with a mass of armed and well prepared warriors.

  Why have I dreamed this? Is it a warning? she wondered, perplexed, having no experience with such an odd thing. The tribal seers looked for signs and visions, not ordinary Eridians like herself. Most of her dreams were of her childhood, or of her lusts and passions, and seldom did dreams of war come to disturb her rest.

  We must be careful! I have no wish to enter into an Elvin trap!

  She lay awake for a time, considering how she might alter her plans, or somehow reduce the possibility of them becoming traped or overwhelmed. The idea of holding a force awing still seemed the best option, and she finally gave up, slipping back asleep.

  Shocara awoke the next day at first light, cold and stiff, but determined to prevail against the Elvin. When they took off, the
crossed over into Elvin lands, they moved westward as planned. The day was again overcast, which seemed likely to make them harder to spot from the ground. They were passing over a small village, when children playing noted them, and ran to summon some adults. These ones quickly grasped what was afoot, and running to the village master with the news, he was soon busy, using the village’s device to send word to Usaritien, regarding the mass of Eridians headed their way, hoping to give the warriors still in the city time to devise a proper welcome for Shocara and her warriors.

  43

  Amein had been sitting in the main audience room of the clan home, hearing matters of varying interest. She sometimes tired of such duty, but knew better than to complain, it being one of the necessities of being a wise ruler.

  On this day, she had heard several small disputes, which she managed to get the parties to clarify and then resolve by clever questioning. There had been the usual complaints regarding the Elvin daughter who had been overly eager, and who had sacrificed her virginity sooner that her parents thought proper. This garnered the parents a stern look, for having engaged in such foolish and wishful thinking, expecting any Elvin girl over the age of fourteen to remain in such a state of inexperience, something the parents were soon revealed to have failed to do themselves. These ones departed, well embarrassed, but having admitted their folly, were unlikely to cause further problems.

  Rasten, who had arrived for the meal, taking a break between his periods of instruction, was watching, as the last person was brought before Amein; the captive Koharilla.

  The young Eridian seemed mesmerized by the very room itself, it being able to seat two hundred easily, with a ceiling towering far over head. The stone work and the rich woods were unimaginable to her, the windows of crystal elanite reaching up to the height of four tall men.

  Koharilla found herself placed within an arms length of the Elvin Princess, standing on a deep and colorful rug. A pillow was placed before her, and she knelt, as she had been instructed, bowing her head to the Elvin Princess. Amein sat on a simple, soft stool, elegantly carved, but not a gaudy and ornate throne. She, like her father before her, chose to display none of the trappings’ of wealth and power that some would have yearned for.

  Koharilla had been dressed in a long and beautiful gown, which had seemed so outrageously soft and unlike anything she had ever worn, that she had been overcome with tears when two Elvin attendants came to prepare her to be seen by Amein. The Eridian woman had cried over it, having no experience with something so rich and pleasing.

  “I see our guest is well displayed, not as a warrior of the Eridians, but as a human female! Tell me, Koharila, do you wish to exchange your present garb for your old clothing?” Amein asked this simply, her voice giving no hint as to which she might suggest.

  “Princess...I feel unworthy of my old garb! You have worked your sorcery upon me, and reduced me, as you suggested you would, to being a mere captive to my desires!”

  “And what should I do with you? Send you back to your people, or let you stay?”

  “You would not keep me as a slave?!” the Eridian woman gasped, amazed at such a thing.

  “You are no slave!” Amein suggested. Koharilla blushed, and hung her head.

  “Forgive me for disputing your word, but I am well enslaved to my own desire, a captive to my lust, which none of my people are known to have experienced!” she sighed helplessly.

  “You wish to remain among us?” Amein asked, a smile creeping over her face.

  “I am well inclined to beg for such a thing, as you foretold I would! Your understanding is great, like your sorcery, Princess, and you have me utterly under your spell!” Koharilla confessed, wiping her tears.

  “I would suggest you are enslaved to your female self, and no other. I warned you such would be your fate. Has someone caught your eye?!”

  “Yes Princess, one of those who came to me in the darkness...he seems pleased with me, and I am as eager to please him. He carries no sword, but is an astounding warrior, able to break my will with only his touch! May I stay?” she asked, and waited, holding her breath.

  “I am not inclined to return you to the Eridians, and to have you die needlessly. I regret only that we can’t inflict the same fate on all your people!” Amein suggested, her voice alive with amusement.

  “None could withstand such a thing!” Koharilla moaned, putting her hands to her mouth. She looked up at Amein, again overwhelmed by the Elvin Princess’s beauty and grace. “Thank you!” she managed to speak, before being overcome with tears. Amein determined that the one attracted to her was present, and summoned him, giving Koharilla into his care, and making him responsible for her continued proper behavior. With this resolved, Amein declared the session over, and stood, giving Koharilla a firm hug and a kiss on her cheek, before handing her to her new partner.

  “That seemed to go well!” Rasten suggested, as they headed off to eat.

  “She is well ours...did you detect any sign of dishonesty from her?”

  “None...she has much the same lust and eagerness that your young nieces display! I somehow doubt she will cause trouble; she’s also pregnant!”

  “You can sense that?!” Amein gasped, turning him to face her.

  “Of course...can’t you?” he wondered, puzzled.

  “Of course not! I know of no Elvin diviner, sage or mystic who might!” she gasped, amazed again at Rasten’s seemingly endless abilities.

  “Well...how interesting. I have no idea what it might be useful for, but perhaps in time something will suggest itself,” he declared and winked.

  That evening, Rasten had gone to his study after eating dinner, eager to read and practice his inner skills. He had been going through the halls, that led to his and Amein suite of rooms, and where a dozen other close family were likewise quartered, including Princess Haiveri, when he passed a group of their servants, all young Elvin females, who did chores during the day, such as making beds and cleaning. They had all been well occupied, giggling and being silly, their tasks long ago finished for the day, and eager to go out and fiddle as they pleased. They all sobered, upon seeing Rasten, their mirth replaced by a dreamy awkwardness, as they politely greeted him. Rasten had no tendency to be snobby, always eager to tease and flirt with the females, and he greeted them well in passing. They were soon going on, oblivious to his eye, which he had cast on them, turning and stopping to stare. He had noted something odd about one of them, as though she had been somehow vaguely blury. Thinking his eyes were tired, he finally shrugged, and went on.

  He shed his boots and sword, feeling a bit foolish at times to be wearing it, since he was nowhere its master. Amein had been insistant that he do so, since his position as an Elvin Lord required he look the part. He had found the Elvin amazingly hidebound and picky, as far as certain things to do with formalities and appearances were concerned. They might chase each other down the street naked, engaged in sexual play, but when they were dressed they were dressed in accordance with long standing protocol.

  This had more than once amused Rasten, but had also pleased him, the utter nonsense of Earthen fashion completely unknown. A new type of clothing might appear once in a thousand years, if then. That what they considered acceptable dress was either practicle, elegant, or quite sexy, seemed to show a much deeper wisdom that Rasten had ever seen.

  He spent a time reading, before deciding to simply lay the book aside, and stare out the window. He was eager to have more visions, and worked to calm his mind, focusing on things he had been told would aid such a quest.

  He was starting to get drowsy when the room seemed to vanish, and a new sight captured his attention. He sat, immobile, scarcely breathing, letting the vision unfold. He saw several elves, in a dimly lit room, and suddenly, all seemed to transform, becoming a different sort of creature. He watched, as this developed, all changing much the same, until they all were different, but alike. He beheld beings whose hair had moved, becoming a shaggy mane, mostly running in a wi
de swath from their foreheads, to their necks. Their eyes were now huge, and their faces had become fuller. The female present had much larger breasts, having before displayed normal small Elvin ones.

  Rasten wished to continue observing, but a voice intruded, and the vision ended abruptly.

  “Lord Rasten, might you require help with anything?” one of their attendants asked, peeking into the room.

  “No...I’m fine...” he sighed, still perplexed by his vision. “I’m going down to the library,” he advised her, and went to get a pair of slippers.

  In the clan home library, Rasten wandered, looking for what he was seeking. No one was present to assist him, and he finally found what he was after, realizing that many tomes were filed by subject, alphebetically in order. He took a couple to a table, and sat down, to look through them.

  Scanning quickly, he finally slowed down, and turned the pages with more deliberation, at last coming to a faded image that stopped his turning instantly.

  Rasten stared, recalling his vision. The beings in it exactly matched the one in the book.

  “Coumaderini...” he softly sighed. A look in the other book showed no such illustration, but seemed well filled with interesting comments, so he took both with him, heading back to his room. When he arrived, he found Amein present, getting undressed.

  “You’ve been to the library? Did you sign those out?” she asked grinning, knowing the old elf in charge would give Rasten a wicked tongue lashing for violating the rules.

  “No one’s there! Look!” he insisted, showingAmein the illustration of the shape changer.

  “What’;s possessed you to look at this?” she wondered, puzzled. Rasten explained his vision.

  “How odd! The Coumaderini are long gone...none have been noted for hundreds of years. Why would you have such a vision?” she wondered, brows furrowed deeply.