To Claim the Elvin Princess: Apprentice

by Jack Bessie

  “I wish I was a young man...a warrior like I once was...I would be your most devoted companion!” he sighed.

  “I would like such a thing. I wonder often how it would be to have a man so kind and devoted to me, as a mate!”

  “You will find one, in due time, my Princess!”

  “I am less sure,” she sighed, sadly.

  In spite of feeling more inclined to lay back down, she managed to get dressed and went out, to see what was happening in the village. Her arm ached but seemed well onto healing, the redness having gotten worse, while she lay half senseless, but now fading. She had two perfectly straight lines, which would become scars. one on each opposite side of her biceps. The air was nippy, which helped to clear her head, and she keenly observed the people as she saw them, her eye sharp and well able to see both a deep sadness, and a budding sense of relief, when ever someone noted her.

  Shocara wandered, checking to determine that no harm had come to the Elvin captives, and again wondered how soon they might resolve this problem.

  Every day we delay, brings us closer to doom! she thought, knowing this to be likely. If the Elvin knew they were here, we’d surely be beset with hordes of them, come to either take them back or avenge their loss! Alone, with just those here, we should fall to a couple of hundred Elvin, yet they might just as easily bring a thousand!

  The thought of this again gave her chills, the pain in her arm a sharp reminder of how terrible dying by the sword would be, something no one wished to dwell on.

  After the evening meal, she joined a group of her warriors, as they sat around, killing time.

  “Feeling better?” Hacarim wondered, not sure what mood she was in.

  “I am thankful to be alive, and un-impaired. At least I should be able to wield my sword! However, my heart is not so carefree. We got our asses beaten by the Elvin, let none say otherwise. Somehow they expected us, and were better prepared than we had hoped!”

  “At least you were wise, and kept those ones awing...we’d have all perished, otherwise. I owe you an apology, for doubting you!” Hacarim sighed.

  “None is needful...we have entered a new era, in our war with the Elvin, where I fear nothing will be as it was. The Elvin are led by one young and inclined to do...unusual things, to battle us. I too have lost patience for all the old ways, that bring us nothing bur defeat and misery. We need new ways to fight our enemy, or something else. Our lack of understanding of the Elvin perhaps is the cause of our failure!” she proclaimed.

  “How so...are they not what they’ve always been?” Hacarim wondered, puzzled. His face mirrored most of the others.

  “Our people twenty generations ago had no more understanding of them than we do! That is the problem...we fight who we believe they are. We understand nothing of their sorcery, or...look, what is it to be an Eridian?” she asked suddenly. Everyone thought her possessed.

  “See...you are unable to easily define what we ourselves are, and we are a simple people. We tend our crops and animals, raise our families, and wage war against each other and the Elvin! But what defines the Elvin? Their lives are many, many times more complex, and we are utterly ignorant of what they are. Most Elvin are not warriors, but common people, many of whom are amazing craftsmen and sorcerers! What do they treasure and value?”

  “They seem very rich, and have much wealth...perhaps they think much of that!”

  “Really? When the Elvin have sacked one of our villages, they don’t even touch the coins or jewelry...how does that display a lust for riches?! The only think they will do, is break swords, likely knowing how hard they are for us to replace. They covet nothing we possess!” she sneered. This seemed as offensive as it was likely true.

  One of the warriors suddenly spoke. “Princess? They never kill our women or children...perhaps that is something they revere more than gold or silver?”

  Shocara sat, paralyzed by the understanding that this was likely correct, and what sort of implications it might hold.

  “I sense somehow you are correct, but might wish it was not! If they do so, our taking of their women and young ones, or the killing of them, will seem the direst of acts! We have now done both...” she moaned.

  “But we didn’t take their women...the Kaderi did that!”

  “But they are now here, in our possession. How will that look to the Elvin? Would any think we are merely holding them, hoping the Elvin pass by, so we might reunite them?” she laughed at the absurdity of this.

  “No, they will assume our intentions are as evil as the Kaderi’s were!” she added. None seemed inclined to dispute this.

  “Princess...I’d like to know how the Elivin might have expected us? Surely none might have seen us pass, and arrived before us!” Someone asked.

  Shocara sat, considering this, as she had before; among her evil dreams, this had returned again and again. Nothing had come to her, and now, fully awake, nothing did either.

  “They must have some way unknown to us...some sorcery, which makes such possible. Either that, or we have a spy among us!”

  “I don’t know which disturbs me more,” Hacarim grumbled, “that the Eridians might harbor a traitor, or that our enemy has some means of passing messages and warnings in a way none might see!”

  “Our world becomes more complex, not less. We must adapt, or fail,” Shocara said, tired, and feeling still weak. “We will give it more thought!” she declared, before going out.

  She slept fitfully, plagued by even more cryptic dreams, and woke, relieved to see dim light outside. Garen brought her food, which she ate, still wrapped in a fur, to ward off the chill air. When she was finished, she dressed, and went to get her horse.

  “I’m going to the tower!” she told Garen, but no other, and rode off into a dense mist. When she reached the stone tower, she dismounted, noting the mist was still heavy. She climbed the wet steps carefully, there being no railing on the outside should she slip. When she reached the top, she was amazed to be in bright sunlight, the mist below, and filling the whole valley. This amused her in a perverse way.

  It is like all the problems have disappeared! Would that I could attain such a state in life, where I might rise above all my problems, and have peace! Is there such a thing? she wondered, sitting down on the stone that ringed the tower, forming a low wall. She sat unmoving, and was suddenly surprised by the flapping of wings, as a large hawk landed on the tall stone spire, that had countless years past held a tall pole and a pennon. She watch the magnificent bird, as it scanned in vain for prey, thwarted by the mist.

  Ho, brother, you seem as lost as I! she thought, understanding that she was as lacking in sight as this bird. The hawk paced a bit, looking back and forth, trying to discern the lands below, but finally look upward, higher on the hillside, to where the mists had long since departed. It took off in a flurry of wings, and was soon gliding over bare grass far above it’s normal realm.

  Is there a lesson for me in that? Look elsewhere, when the old ways no longer work? How can that work for us? Have we been attacking the Elvin where they are strong, and not where they are vulnerable? Where are they vulnerable?! Has none of us every thought deeply of such a thing? I have no desire to be a fool, to break ourselves against immovable stone. Perhaps we should find a place, where we might dislodge the very stones, and let that wreck havoc on the Elvin as an avalanche would! But where is such to be found? Can it be found? Our people are restless, and hungry for victory, and I am tired of fighting! How might this end, except poorly for us! If we passed away, the Elvin would scarce notice our absense!

  Shocara sat, watching the hawk far in the distance, swoop in and catch something.

  I wish to be that hawk, not the creature he has captured. To find a new way to succeed; I wish to have the victory that brings peace! she thought, standing to stretch. Of course, sometimes peace comes to the defeated also, when they are utterly crushed, she thought the dream of her surrendering giving her goosebumps.

  48

  Rasten
had sat one evening, absorbed by a book of personal recollections, penned long before by an Elvin female, who had fallen into the hands of the Eridians, and had been a slave for nine years. Her anger had been sharp, but her observations precise and honest, even though they made him cringe at times.

  I found the Eridians to be well ordered and much inclined to a hearty and stern self-discipline. There is much expectation within their society regarding how life should be. From the doing of chores and common tasks, to the way the people relate to each other, there is a deep and well established routine regarding how things may be done.

  This orderliness starts early, with the children, who are sternly ordered and cared for. There is much play only until about age four, when the child is given small tasks, and then expected to contribute in enumerable small ways, to the doing of life. Boys especially, but also any females who are of sufficient strength and ability, are begun in the work of arms starting at age five, and what passes for play, from then on, is mostly mock fighting, using small wooden swords. Growing up in such fashion, their general level of skill at combat is remarkable.

  The men mostly treat women as servants, except for those with proven ability regarding weapons, who are much desired and revered as companions. I observed more than one young man falling to a female of better skill, and ending up her mate, he having lost the right to refuse her desires! Otherwise, a woman can expect to be sternly regarded, and well disciplined, but if she does as instructed, she is respected and often much loved. I found the regard of both women and men for each other confusing often, compared to the regard the Elvin have for each other. They seem capable of much stronger loves, but are plagued by wicked bouts of jealousy as a consequence. A mate, especially a female, flirting with someone other than their partner, risks a handy thrashing, and a man caught with his hand on someone else’s women, will get swift practice with his sword, for his violation of the norms...

  ...I was mostly amused when not confused, by the ways in which infidelity are treated. We Elvin have no expectation of such, and finding your partner in bed with another is simply an opportunity to play with someone else! Not so for the Eridians, who regard such as justification of a beating at minimum, and occasionally a painful death! What astounded me the most was their inclination to engage in such dalliances, in spite of the stern penalties attached to getting caught! That they do so, is undeniable, as the number of children born bearing no resemblance to their mate’s partner is quite astoundingly common. The Eridians, having no idea of genetics, merely find this odd and puzzling, and shrug it off as some manifestation of the gods. Their simplicity and ignorance allows them to get away with this, while pretending to observe their own rules! The thing that disturbs me most is that I could have told them the truth, but chose not to. That I feel now like a partner to their misbehavior still troubles me....

  ...There were moments when I was being raped repeatedly by my captors, when I would have had no hesitation to curse the lot of them, and give the order to wipe them from our world. At more sane moments of reflection, I found myself almost liking them, seeing something wonderful in their simple lives. The knowledge that the Elvin passed through this same primitive barbarity untold eons ago, makes me humble, and more inclined to forgive them their treatment of me...

  ...That I was spared a worse fate, simply for being beautiful and female, is also disturbing. Several of the men had much regard and desire for me, and treated me well. That they lack the skills of the Elvin, in sexual matters, was disappointing, but not nearly as terrible as their aversion to bathing! I did manage to instruct several in ways to be more pleasing to a female, and no doubt there are several Eridian women who owe me for such too, benefiting from what I taught their men...

  ...the Eridian women were more inclined to hate me, simply for existing, at least initially. They were openly jealous of my appearance, and were incensed that their men folk found me highly desirable. Had the men not forbid such, I would likely have been cut and disfigured, to ruin my visage...

  ...however, the children found me interesting and kind, and responded to me as such, at least until they became older, and picked up the attitudes of the adults. I was pleased that my steady determination to be helpful, eventually eroded the women’s spite, making them less focused on just my appearance. This was a large victory, and made life much more bearable. Still, anytime one of the women was forced to sleep alone, as her mate chose to be with me, I was again confronted with a new bitter and angry one. Still, it was better to confront this one by one, then to have the entire tribe against me...

  ...having spent nine years as their captive, feeling abandoned by my own people, it is amazing to me at times that I didn’t succumb to their offer, and become a full fledged Eridian warrior. It is hard to fathom oneself choosing to remain basically a slave, or worse, the village whore and plaything, rather than to be free to wield a sword, something I spent my entire life doing. Yet I must confess, the reluctance to fight against my own people was both deep and wide. I also understand that I would have willingly suffered more abuse, even death, rather than to turn against my own kind, to spare myself such suffering. I hope that would be accorded a sign of character, and not foolish cowardice, but my ordeal is too personal for me to honestly judge it wisely. I shall leave that to other, wiser sages...

  Rasten gently closed the book, and laid it carefully on the table. He sat immobile many long minutes, considering the words he had read, moved profoundly by the thoughts and observations of its writer. Amein had come in the room and stood silently watching him, letting him absorb what he had read, knowing how much reading it had touched her.

  When he finally moved a bit, he noted her, and looked intently at her face. “She’s a relative...isn’t she?” Amein smiled hugely, delighted by his guess.

  “Princess Liariea was father’s great aunt...she lead the campaign to subdue the Trocaridians and fell in battle on that distant world. That statue of the Warrior Princess in the great hall...that’s her!” Amein declared, bursting with pride.

  “When was that?”

  “Almost two thousand years ago...she was a mere child, being barely four hundred, but she is revered by every Elvin girl, especially those who choose to pick up the sword! If you want to understand how much that’s true, mention her name to Leinien or Narimein sometime!” she insisted.

  Amein had slipped close, and Rasten turned to let her onto his lap. “You want badly to be regarded like she is...don’t you?” Amein blushed at this, a look of complete guilt touching her face.

  “Every Elvin girl secretly does! But boys have their own heroes too! Our father is one of them!” she sighed. “We Elvin greatly love our history, and invest much pride in the doing of great deeds. We are quite prone to hero worship, likely more than we should, but that’s just part of being Elvin. We’d be naked without our pride!”

  “But doesn’t pride tend to foster arrogance?”

  “It might among humans, but we work hard to keep that from happening!” she declared, sounding to Rasten majorly snotty and stuck up. He tickled her hard, which left her a disheveled mess.

  “Stop that!” she scolded.

  “Don’t be so pretentious. I suspect you’re a lot more snooty than you want to admit!” he suggested.

  “Maybe...but then, we do have a lot to be proud of!” she sighed.

  “How much do you have to be ashamed of, but refuse to face?” he asked. The silence was profound, as Amein sat, avoiding even glancing at him. “Well?” he prodded, poking her ribs with his index finger.

  “Stop that! We aren’t perfect, and every Elvin knows that. We do teach our young all of our failings and mistakes...we just don’t dwell on them!”

  “Really? What’s your worst mistake as a race?” Rasten asked. Again he was greeted by silence. He touched her ribs with his finger, tentatively, which brought forth an exasperated sigh.

  “Don’t you dare! Alright...I told you about what we did to the Narisinians; nothing we’ve ever done wi
ll top that bit of evil...but...we’ve done other things wrong too!” she sighed.

  “Such as?”

  “We were once wrong about what another race had done. We were sure they had used a wicked sorcery to visit destruction on another group which we were close to. Our leaders decided to punish them for doing such, but too late, we discovered that our belief was wrong! We have never forgiven ourselves for that mistake either!” she moaned, looking miserable.

  “I take it your punishment was a bit harsh?”

  “Worse than harsh: we wiped out the entire race!”

  “How many was that?” Rasten gasped, finding this staggering somehow. Amein shrugged.

  “Maybe fifty or a hundred million...even if it had been ten, our guilt would have been as strong!” she sighed. The magnitude of such death stunned Rasten. “You think we’re completely wicked, don’t you?” she managed to snivel.

  “That’s a pretty strong screw up! I’d be ashamed of that too!” he declared, slipping his arms around her. “I’m assuming you’re determined to never repeat that mistake? Wait...this is why the Eridians are still alive, isn’t it? No matter how much they hurt you, you can’t find the will to just wipe them out?!” Amein nodded.

  “Mostly our own shame is all that keeps us from doing so! You know how tired we are of this war! Still, those of us who confront our history, and know the guilt of being wrong, hesitate to be that abrupt. Rasten, you will have to confront your own feelings of hatred and anger against them too, as you watch our people die in what is essentially senseless combat! Never lose sight of this; the enemy are people too, with hopes and dreams, with lives and families. Were we to find peace, they would make great allies, strong and courageous. The skills and strengths that make them terribly foes, would make them welcome friends too, if we could find the way past this ceaseless warring!” she insisted, the intensity of her words revealing her deepest feelings.