To Claim the Elvin Princess: Apprentice

by Jack Bessie

  “You want more than anything to be the Elvin Princess, who finds that peace, don’t you?” he asked, understanding how profoundly she hungered for this to be her legacy.

  “Enough to die for it! Rasten...if I fall in battle, promise me you’ll never stop searching for that peace! I want that more than any other thing to be what I’m remembered for. Enough of our people have won honor by deeds of arms. What we need on our own world is a lasting peace, for this world to be home and a secure refuge for all the races, and for them to have friendship and harmony! Promise?”

  “Yes. You sound like a hippie girl,” he teased.

  “What’s that?” she asked, completely at a loss.

  “Several decades ago on earth, we had a bunch of spoiled young people who rebelled against authority, wanting peace, love and harmony, while doing nothing likely to accomplish that. They were slutty too, eager to toss off the prudish strictures, and have sex all the time, with whomever they pleased. They eventually all grew up, and became their parents!”

  “Really? I like the slutty part...maybe I’m part hippie?”

  “Are you in the mood now?”

  “I’m an elf...I’m always in the mood!” she giggled, kissing him.

  49

  “Are you serious?!” Rasten demanded, having just been told that he would lead the attack on the Eridian village, where the Elvin captives were thought to be held.

  “Very...you have shown great aptitude for tactics and an exceptional amount of sense and judgment. Only with real experience will you develop them more. This is a small task; a small force attacking a small village...it will be a perfect opportunity for you to be tested, and well informed. All the training in the universe is no substitute for having to battle real enemy warriors with real weapons, and having to kill or fall yourself. You will learn much about that which is within you, by doing this!” Lord Comarien declared, grinning slyly, he having been Rasten’s main instructor for warfare and tactics.

  Rasten would have complained to Amein about what he considered the dubious nature of this decision, but before he could, he discovered that the decision to give him this responsibility was hers. This gave him pause, if for no other reason than his understanding of her stubbornness. He was less than eager to engage in a contest of wills with her. Still, after dinner he raised the subject.

  “I understand I have you to thank for the opportunity to lead the attack on the Eridians?” he asked, trying to sound both grateful and reasonable. Amein had her back to him, fiddling with an arrangement of flowers.

  “You think I’ve lost my mind, don’t you?” she succinctly replied, hiding her grin.

  “I do have...well, it seems a stretch to me!” he sighed, knowing he was doomed to lose any argument.

  “You have more than enough skill and training...what you lack is confidence!” she insisted, turning and crossing her arms. “There is only one way to gain that! Thus, your ass is going off to battle! I trust your instincts, and wish you to also do so!”

  “I hope I don’t get anyone killed!”

  “I have no such worries...those going have been hand picked, and are well seasoned and experienced. You will not need to hold their hands! All you’ll need to do is lead, and keep alive...the Eridians are disinclined to be impressed by your lineage or station!”

  “How much will you worry?” he asked.

  “Enough...I’ll likely cry too...but that’s not a reason to shirk my responsibilities! I didn’t go to all this bother to have you fail or be afraid to do your duty!” she advised him.

  “I just hope the warriors aren’t taking bets as to how much I screw up!”

  “They’re not inclined to do such a crass thing...elves do have some decorum!” Amein snipped.

  Rasten wisely resisted the urge to say anything, turning his thoughts to what he should consider, to prepare for the attack. His first effort was to find the ones who had been spying on the Eridians, and consult them, wanting to have the latest bit of insight as to what their enemy was doing.

  “We saw no mass of terranaks, such as would indicate that more than one village had come together. The Kaderi village looks much like normal, except that one can see an occasional Elvin female doing something. The Eridians are fond of using our people for chores, when they aren’t raping them,” one of those who had just returned advised Rasten when he inquired.

  “We have no way to know if some of them are elsewhere, do we?” Rasten wondered.

  “No, and we likely won’t. I can’t imagine they’d ever all be outside at the same time, where we might spy them.”

  “But wouldn’t the Eridians wish to share them? If others came from surrounding villages to help capture them, I’d think the others would wish to share in the spoils!”

  “You’d think so, but the Eridians are strange. Perhaps the others were given more goods and valuables...they don’t think like we do, or so it seems!”

  “If they are spread among several villages, we’ll be raiding more than one...I’m not inclined to leave a single one behind!” Rasten declared.

  “Are you willing to kill every single warrior in a village? That may be more likely than you’d prefer...the Eridians don’t like being bested, and will fight to the last man...or woman! They much prefer death to losing!”

  “They think that’s heroic? I find that stupid and crazy!” Rasten complained.

  “You can think it anything you like, but you still have to deal with it. I’ve seen many of them cut their own throat, rather than be captured when they are wounded or beaten.” This gave Rasten pause.

  “On Earth...the world of my birth, we were only a few centuries removed from a time when much of humanity existed as barbarians, and were as foolishly inclined. Perhaps I should not look down on them?” he proclaimed.

  “What ever you might think of them, they are certainly brave, even foolishly so. That makes them dangerous!”

  “I’m concerned that someone might escape, and warn the nearby villages...if the Elvin are spread around, they could be easily killed before we could get there!”

  “Have no fear...our flyers will make sure none get aloft, and escape! Any on foot will be too slow to give a warning.”

  Rasten decided that he needed to have a better grasp of the Eridian village they intended to attack, and so went to the Citadel’s enormous library, where maps of all Am-Coteiru were kept. The topographic ones let him visualize the terrain, and the others, well drawn to scale, gave him valuable insight into how close the forest cover might be. Much of the surrounding land was open farmland, or pasturage, but the north side of the village was scarcely fifty paces from the tree line.

  Rasten used a ruler to gauge the distances, noting that the forest ended barely three hundred paces to the north, in at least one pocket. The idea that they could swing wide, and approach unseen, landing most of their force to the north, and swiftly making their way through the forest, suggested itself clearly. If the remaining flyers flew low, and wrecked havoc on the village warriors, capturing their attention, the bulk of the Elvin could slip between the houses at a run, and engage them fully.

  When he had the chance to speak with Amein, he laid out his ideas and plans, wondering what she might say.

  “What if they spy you, or if one of the women do, and sound the alarm? How will you manage if more than the normal number of warriors are present? If you don’t scout them at all, you’ll be going in blind!”

  “I somehow think that is less foolish that giving them warning, by overflying the village just before we attack!”

  “Are you sure? What has been happening all along?”

  “We’ve been surveying...well shit, there’s the answer...we can fly high over head the day before, and they’ll think its just a normal thing!”

  “See? Always look at any problem from many avenues, to make sure you don’t miss something. In the midst of a battle, there isn’t time for contemplation. You’ll find that time flies when you are fighting, especially when things get dir
e!”

  “I assume even the best plans can go to hell quickly?”

  “They often do,” Amein suggested, nibbling her lower lip. “Your job is to make sure you and all the others aren’t dragged to your doom also!”

  They spent two days preparing, and sent word to the Elvin villages nearest their target, to expect them, and to be vigilant, should anything involving the Eridians become visible.

  “Wouldn’t it be wonderful to come across a whole group of Eridians, coming to raid our own? We could punish them quite well, and on the spot too!” Narietin insisted, he being one to have volunteered to go on this mission.

  “I suppose that depends on how many we had to engage!” Rasten sighed, feeling less enthused and more nervous than the Elvin who would accompany him. “You really enjoy fighting?” he wondered. Narietin shrugged.

  “We are quite good at it, and it is exciting. Once you get past peeing down your leg the first couple of times, it likely won’t bother you!” the elf laughed.

  “Great...how many actually do that?”

  “Most, but few will admit it!”

  “Including you?” Rasten teased. Narietin suddenly look disturbed, it suddenly dawning on him that thanks to Rasten’s truth sense, there was no answer that would not reveal the truth.

  “I had to empty my boot like many do!” he admitted, and laughed. “But so do most others. Ask Amein about her first battle sometime, but don’t do it with her in arm’s reach!” he teased.

  The flight to the Elvin Village of Haeirine took two days, their sixty flyers stopping to camp near a small encampment from which the Elvin mounted patrols over nearby Eridian lands. They considered this a precaution, not wishing to give any potential Eridian a reason to inflict retribution on the helpless people of a village, for some how having aided their Elvin foe. Stopping thus also let them hear news of Eridian movement and activity.

  They talked into the darkness eager to hear a full accounting. The fact that there had been little movement on the part of the Eridians seemed hard to fathom.

  “So none have been in motion?” Rasten asked, curious.

  “Only the occasional messenger, flying to and fro. We’ve seen no sign of the Eridians moving in mass or even by twos or threes,” one of the camp flyers declared.

  “I’m not sure that is good or bad!” Narietin sighed. “This is the time of year they move about, raiding each other and us. I can’t imagine they’d give that up, unless they are planning something else! They know we expect a certain amount of raiding each year...perhaps they’ve decided to do something more wicked?”

  “Assuming we’d be disinclined to expect anything more than the small raids? That would be a perfect strategy! Shocara might like that!” Rasten suggested.

  “Let us hope the ones we’re going to see are as disinclined to expect us!”

  “I hope they haven’t moved or killed our females...I’d hate to have to wander all over Eridian lands looking for them!”

  “If they’ve killed them, they may not be a problem much longer...Amein would have little choice but to inflict a wicked fate onto them, no matter how loath she would be to do so!” Rasten proclaimed harshly.

  50

  Rasten had elected to be part of the force which would attack on foot, rather than be safer, but stuck on a terranak. Their intent was to drop close, and move up, and only attack when the low flying ones had managed to create enough of an engagement to bring all the Eridians out of their buildings, and into the open. Seeing a small group of Elvin awing was thought likely to temp the Eridians to come out, eager to use their bows.

  This village was close to a large wooded area, through which the Elvin might pass unseen. When Rasten and his men were well positioned, they signaled by shooting an arrow straight up above their tree cover, this being affixed with a long white cloth streamer, to allow it to be sighed by the flyers, who were also concealed, but at a more distant vantage point.

  “Be ready!” Rasten softly called, passing the word from warrior to warrior. He gripped his sword, his stomach knotted, a mixture of tension and worry plaguing him. When he heard the beating of the terranaks’ wings, he readied himself, and waited. A dozen arrows from above took down two guards, with loud screams, sounding the alarm as they had hoped. Doors soon slammed open, the emerging Eridians shocked to find their men cut down, with no sign of any attackers visible. The Elvin had flown handily past, and swiftly turned, coming back fast, and unleashed another barrage of arrows. These were less deadly, the sight of the approaching terranaks giving the Eridians motive to move and not stand still; only one was taken in this sweep.

  The Eridians now gave full attention to grabbing their own bows, and taking what cover they might, preparing to unleash a response, should the Elvin be foolish enough to return so low. They waited, tense and nervous, facing the direction the Elvin flyers had gone, but their enemy circled wide and well hidden by the trees; they swept in from behind, catching another couple of men not moving fast enough to avoid the flashing arrows.

  Screaming commands, trying to watch two directions at once, they were fixed on the sky, and were unprepared for the running Elvin, who rushed out from between the houses, swords swinging.

  Rasten’s first swing nearly decapitated one of the Eridians, who fell, still clutching his bow, sword still sheathed. He was more properly welcomed by the next, and found himself met by a strong and skilled Eridian, who was determined to survive. There battle was sharp and vicious, before Rasten managed to slip past his opponent’s guard, and drove his sword deep into the man’s chest. He barely managed to pull his sword back and spin, to meet the blade of another, a young man who had much determination, but less skill than a seasoned warrior should posses. Rasten hacked this one down quickly, and then ran towards another place, where one of his Elvin was desperately fighting two Eridians. Before he could reach them, the elf was wounded deeply by a thrust as he was locked against the other man’s sword.

  Rasten slashed the closest Eridian with a blow more apt for chopping a tree down, then one which a sword master might approve of. He engaged the second man, his anger brutal, but well controlled, Master Roein’s harsh lessons about not being overwhelmed by his emotions still fresh. He made short work of this one, cutting him badly, and swiping the blade from his hand with a stinging blow, that snapped the Eridian’s weapon.

  Rasten quickly turned, looked for more attackers, but found none still standing. Several of the Eridian women emerged, to survey the destruction, and to mourn the loss of their men. Rasten ordered the wounded to be tended, and went to see about his own fighters. He found one dead, and one badly wounded. Several had small cuts. The Elvin flyers made short work of the two that had fled afoot, their arrows deadly.

  He was trying to deal with his own feelings, when one of the Eridian women came running at him, screaming, and brandishing a dagger. He grabbed for his sword hilt, but just as quickly released it, the idea of using a sword against an unskilled woman too unacceptable. He let her get close and commit herself into a vicious overhand strike, and stepped handily to the side, grabbing her wrist. A quick squeeze of his strong hand, and she cried out in pain, and dropped the weapon.

  “Why don’t you kill us all!” she shrieked, before descending into sobs. Rasten swiftly turned her around, and rudely secured her wrists with a pair of Elvin handcuffs, taken from his pocket. Taking her shoulders, he turned her around.

  “Why should you wish such a thing?” he asked, his Eridian much improved. The woman seemed shocked that he spoke her language. He gently wiped her eyes, further astounding her.

  “How shall we live with no one to help or provide for us? Who will husband the animals or tend the crops? We are doomed to a life of poverty, more than normal. No one will take us as wives...indeed, there are few men to spare as it is!” she complained, a deep sadness touching her.

  “This is another reason why this foolish war with the Elvin needs to stop!” Rasten said, disgusted. The woman seemed puzzled by this.


  “There has always been war...we have to fight against the Elvin, or none of us would survive!” Rasten shook his head, amazed by this.

  “The Elvin only wish to have peace, so your people might have a chance to grow and prosper, and so that we should lose none of our own,” he sighed.

  “I know only what we have always believed. What will become of us now? Will you burn our homes too, and leave us to wander, helpless and alone, until we perish?” she demanded.

  “What is your name?” Rasten demanded.

  “Ericora. Who are you?!” she demanded, drawing herself up. Several of the other Elvin had come near, curious to see what Rasten might do with this bold woman of the enemy.

  “I am Rasten, son of Sayarin...perhaps you’ve heard of him?” he asked, a small smile showing. Ericora put her hands to her mouth, and looked suddenly pale.

  “We are doomed!” she moaned.

  “Where are the Elvin, who were captured and brought here?”

  “Gone! Shocara came, and killed our leader, Rumarin, for taking them. Her men took all of them!”

  “To her own village?”

  “I suppose...she said nothing of what she intended. Apparently she feared the Elvin would come, and inflict a terrible retribution for the taking of them, and the killing of their people. Apparently her fears were justified!” the woman sobbed, looking over her village, strewn with dead Eridian men. “Will we die also?” she managed to whisper, terrified.

  “Bring all of the women and children out!” Rasten commanded, giving no hint as to his intent. Ericora gestured for the other women to come to her, and spoke a moment, before they all went towards their houses, resigned to their fate.

  “Lord Rasten, what is your thought?” one of the warriors asked.

  “I am not willing to be evil enough to leave them here. We will burn the dead, and take the others to Alarinad. Summon the rest of our flyers!”