by Jack Bessie
Her arm had healed and improved enough for her to begin exercising it, to regain the strength she had lost due to her injury.
It was late on the fifth day when her man returned, looking grim and much disturbed.
“What ails you? Are the Kaderi being stupid?” she demanded, pleased that they at least hadn’t killed her messenger.
“No princess...the village of Quomdar is empty! Not a single one of our people is there! The houses are intact, the animals mostly alive, but...” he fell silent, the magnitude of this appalling.
“Then I was likely correct...you saw no sign of the Elvin? What of the houses...are they ransacked?”
“No Princess...I saw nothing taken or disturbed...it was like the people vanished!”
“I must see it for myself. Hacarim! Prepare a dozen to fly at first light! We must see what their fate was, as it might well be our own! Jarinda! Did you search around the village?”
“No Princess, only partly...I looked in a dozen houses, and went from end to end, but it seemed eerie and cursed somehow!” he sighed, he like most Eridians being quite superstitious.
When she spoke to Garen, he seemed much fascinated by the news.
“A whole village...gone? Another tribe would have burned it, after taking everything of value! You don’t think it was Eridians who did this, do you?”
“Hardly...I think I am well proven correct; likely the Elvin have come, to demonstrate their displeasure!”
“That disturbs you. Why?”
“Dear Garen...many among the Elvin speak our words, and will have no trouble asking the people of the village who took their females. I am sure I am well known, and not much admired already, among the Elvin, and the idea that I might possess their women folk will not improve that regard any! You might soon wish you were any but an Eridian!” she sighed, looking tired and worried.
The flight to the Kaderi village of Quomdar had been long and miserable, the weather terrible. High up, the winds were cutting and unbearable, and lower, rain and sleet pelted them. They stopped frequently but soon moved on, there being no relief at rest.
They approached the village on the morning of the third day, having been unable to reach it the previous day before the light failed. When they dropped lower, and circled, they saw no sign of life. The rain had stopped, but the wind had picked up, and they were eager to land.
Shocara had only brought a dozen warriors, and they landed at the western side of the village. Dismounting, they huddled close, the quiet eerie and unsettling. They could see animals still alive in their pens, having enough grass and rain to stay alive untended, but no sound other than the wind greeted them.
“Come, split up, and check all the houses!” she ordered, wanting to do something before she lost her nerve. As they moved from one to another, their distress and amazement grew. Nothing was disturbed, the contents not strewn about, as anyone raiding would have done, searching for valuables. Cooking pots, clothing, nothing seemed missing. Yet there were no bodies, no trace of the occupants.
By the time they reached the far side, they were completely spooked and mystified.
“Look around outside!” she called, tossing down a small rag doll she had absentmindedly picked up.
It was only a few minutes later when one of the warriors called. Everyone went at a run, to see what had been found, but they stopped dead, suddenly confronting a terrible sight; The ashes of a large fire set, wet and much beat down, a large circle, that was ringed by Eridian swords, driven blade first into the ground. The hilts had been broken off, and lay beside the blades. Eridian’s would have taken the swords if nothing else. This declared the Elvin as responsible as nothing else might.
“This is likely the resting place of the men...but are the women and children well burned there also?” Shocara wondered. She walked past her men, stepping into the blackened field, and began raking the wet ash with her sword point. She did this a dozen times, moving around the entire pile, and then crossed over the middle. When she was done, she walked back out, and wiped her sword and boots on the grass.
“There are only the large bones of men in that place! The Elvin have taken the women and children! Who now wishes to dispute my understanding? We must return the Elvin women or suffer the same fate!”
“Are you sure?” one of the warriors asked.
“Of course I am. The Kaderi women well knew who came to kill Rumani, and took the Elvin captives. They will tell the Elvin, and the Elvin come for us next!”
“We should plan for that, and be prepared to meet them!” Hacarim suggested.
“And where should we find the warriors to stand against a thousand Elvin? Or ten times that number? We would have a better chance of surviving if we took them all to Alarinad, and handed them over, then begged for mercy!” Shocara laughed.
“Come, we have much to do! If the Elvin visit us while we are here, we will have nothing to return to but ashes and memories!” she sighed.
Shocara and her men went to the two closest Kaderi villages to speak with the people. None had seen any sign of the Elvin, and only in the one was there awareness that their neighbor had met some mysterious end. Shocara warned them as to their possible fate, having had men involved in the taking of the Elvin captives. Only their greed for gold had let them pass up a share of the Elvin women.
The flight back to their village was as miserable as the one earlier had been. They were well pleased to spy it, emerging from the mist, and showing no signs of destruction. That they could see their people moving about was an even greater relief to all.
Shocara swung down, tired and cold, and was quickly greeted by news which astounded her.
“Princess! Lucerto is here! He managed to escape the Elvin and flee!” Garen called. This amazed Shocara, since she could not recall any Eridian captive ever returning.
“Send him to me!” she instructed, and headed to her abode to get dry clothes on.
She was waiting when Garen returned with Lucerto.
“So, where were you held?” she asked.
“In Alarinad Princess. I thought I was doomed to die there, but managed to slip away, and steal a terranak!” he declared. Shocara sat, silent and staring, long before she spoke.
“They let you go...the Elvin are too wise to lose a captive. Why?” she demanded. Lucerto slumped, knowing he was at Shocara’s mercy.
“They allowed me to leave, if I would promise to carry their words to you. They offered to allow me to stay, as all the others have done, but...I wished to return to my family...”
“So we have Eridians living among the Elvin?! Are they...”
“They are free and unfettered, Princess, living as humans,” he quietly suggested. “I spoke with some of them. They are much pleased with their lives, able to partake of the ease and riches as all Elvin experience. It was...very tempting!” he confessed. Shocara sat, speechless at this.
“What words might the Elvin wish to have me hear?”
“That they are tired of the war, and wish to be our friends...have wanted such all along. They would share all they have, if we would be comrades, instead of enemies!”
“And we’re to trust the Elvin?! Who told you such things?!” Shocara laughed.
“Princess Amein and Lord Rasten...he is Sayarin’s son...they both came to visit me, and spoke at length, wanting to hear of our lives and people. They seem...much different than I...than any of us believe them to be!” Lucerto sighed.
“Likely they told you what they wished you to hear, so you would be wooed by them! If they want so much to be our friends, why do they attack us?!” she demanded.
“I think mostly because we attack them! When there are periods between fighting, when we are less able to mount attacks, do the Elvin come to us, bringing war and destruction? No, they leave us alone. Only when we attack do they repay us in kind! What happened to the Kaderi?” Lucerto asked, having heard only bits and rumors.
“They destroyed an entire Elvin village, and took many women and g
irls. The Elvin came, and left no man alive or free...and they took all the women and children! What do you make of that?!”
Lucerto shrugged. “I saw them...the captives. All are well, and being cared for fully. The Elvin will teach them their ways and language, and keep them, wishing them to have some kindness after their loss!”
“You seem eager to sing their praises! Why should I trust you?!”
“Princess, I returned, eager to be with my family, knowing you might kill me as a traitor. I am still devoted to our people, but wish we might have a different life, free of this constant war and death! The Elvin are much different than we believe...and they seem sincere. I expected to be tortured and abused, but all whom I met treated me kindly and respected me. Perhaps they would truly make good friends...I can not judge such a thing. I know only how to be an Eridian, to tend my animals and fight with my sword. You are wise, and perhaps should consider such things as this?” Lucerto sighed.
“Very well...go on. I have no idea of these things either!” Shocara quietly suggested, and when he reached for the door handle, to go out, Shocara spoke again.
“For all our sakes, I hope you are right about the Elvin. If they are not as you say, then we are likely doomed!” she declared.
“I am certain you are correct, having seen the wonders of their sorcery first hand!” Lucerto agreed, and went out.
Shocara sat, deep in thought.
Was my dream part of a wider thing? Might there be some way to live in peace with the Elvin, and have what they have...great cities, great wealth and power...to be still free, but not impoverished and of little regard? Would the Elvin welcome us as comrades? They are mighty fighters, skilled and amazingly deadly with sword and bow. How can we endure in their shadow, so few and insignificant? We lack the land, the ability to support a large population. Is there somewhere else we might live, where plenty and security might be ours? Shocara sat, wiping her eyes, her chin on her drawn up knees.
I want such a simple thing...that we endure, and not perish, yet each day that somehow seems less likely! Our lives are hard, and our people wear out and die young from their toil, if they don’t fall in battle! How is it we are cursed by the gods, to be here, next to beings who are immortal?! Are they mocking us, or are we foolish, and somehow ruining our own lives? Perhaps the Elvin truly are sincere. I wish there was some way I might hear their words, and judge the truth of them myself! I suppose should they capture me, I would have such a chance, at least until they killed me! she thought, sitting in the gloom, miserable.
53
While the Elvin waited for the weather pattern to change for the better, Rasten finished his training, each of his instructors declaring him properly prepared to take his place as an Elvin warrior. He had endured almost nine months of hard work, but had emerged, a swift and deadly fighter, evincing all his fathers skills and abilities. He had lost all trace of youthful fat, replacing it well with strong and well toned muscle, such that he looked quite godlike. He had mostly been oblivious to this transformation, but the Elvin females had not, judging by the number of dreamy looks and mournful sighs he caused by simply walking close by them.
Rasten had no clue as to what his true station might be, assuming he would lead and fight as needed, as any other might do. He was much surprised to come to his room one afternoon, having been told to prepare for a formal function. Expecting another dinner with off world visitors, he was surprised to have his attendants giggling and bossy, scrubbing and massaging him well, getting him shaved and dry before taking him to his room to dress. Here he began to suspect that something out of the ordinary was occurring. The rich dress uniform laid out on the bed suggested such.
“Something special is happening?” he asked. All he got were nods and giggles, and gave up, assuming he would find out in due time. When he was dressed, he looked in the mirror and shook his head. The pants and jacket reminded him of something military in nature, which with the polished leather boots reminded him a bit of an earthen third world military dictator, but more tasteful.
He got his next shock when Kalida arrived dressed much the same.
“Come on, Rasten, we don’t want to be late!”
“Late for what?!”
“You’ll see!” was all he offered. They went down stairs, and headed for the front doors, Kalida holding his arm and guiding him. “We’re going to the grand hall...there’s something important happening there!”
This was a huge structure that would hold thousands, and was used for many things, both official and entertainment related. Rasten had accompanied Amein to several concerts and off-world meetings there. They went into the spacious atrium, and Rasten was amused to see all his instructors well dressed and quite formal, some like Kalida, and others less military in nature.
“Get here, Lord Rasten, and pay attention!” Kalida insisted, placing him in the middle of all his instructors. “You’re going to march in and be presented. Try not to trip or pee yourself!” Kalida teased, leaning close and whispering. “And don’t wave to the cute females!”
They stood relaxed a moment, as Kalida disappeared. After a few minutes, the noise inside the hall ceased, and the massive doors swung open. His group started marching forward, heading straight between what was revealed as masses of mostly Elvin. There was a large platform in the center of the hall, on which a number of individual Elvin could be seen standing, one in the center being Amein. She was not wearing her normal formal gowns, but instead wore a uniform much like he and others were wearing.
Rasten was marched forward, stopping at the foot of the steps. Kalida was standing on the third step, and in the silence, suddenly spoke.
“May I present Lord Rasten, son of Sayarin!” he called this, and the entire hall erupted with applause. This lasted a minute, before stopping.
“Lord Rasten, come forth!” he was commanded, and at a subtle gesture from Kalida, he began climbing the steps. He was made to stand near Amein, but to her right side.
At this point, Master Roein was called, and climbed the steps, to declare Rasten fully and well trained in her discipline. Each of his instructors did likewise, one by one, and last, Sage Hareiastin climbed the steps.
“Sage Hareiastin, tell us of Lord Rasten! Does he possess his fathers powers?” Amein asked. The Sage bowed his head, and looked out over the mass of Elvin, who stood with bated breath.
“He is different than his father...” the old sage began, slyly enjoying the shocked looks on the Elvish faces, “Mostly because, though he has his father’s abilities, he has some unknown to Sayarin, which even I do not fully comprehend! He will be a great practitioner of the inner arts!” the Sage declared, to a wave of applause.
While all of his instructors moved back and took up new positions, Amein stepped forward to speak.
“Beloved friends and fellow Elvin, seldom is any accorded the chance to preside at such a moment as this. Should I pass from our worlds tomorrow, I will have done at least one act worthy of my ancestors, in seeking out and bringing Sayarin’s son back to us! Though Rasten is half Elvin, his Elvin part is undisputable and true, and his father’s abilities have passed well to him!”
Amein turned to Rasten, as someone stepped up holding a sword in an ornate scabbard. “Kneel please!” Amein whispered. taking the sword laid on her outstretched hands, she turned back to him.
“Lord Rasten! Will you pledge your heart and soul to all things Elvin, vowing to serve and protect our people, and all others whom we guard and serve, forsaking even your own desires in times of need?
“I do!” Rasten answered, hoping this would be the proper answer.
“This is the sword of Amoroth, passed down through untold generations, a symbol of Evlin might and justice. Will you kiss the hilt of it, and swear allegiance to our people and worlds?”
Rasten did so. “Then I pronounce you a warrior of the Elvin! Bear your duty well, and with honor, and let no act of cowardice stain your name!” she loudly called.
“Stay pu
t!” she whispered, as the hall again erupted in applause. The clapping soon stopped, everyone puzzled by the fact that Rasten was still kneeling. Amein had turned around, and received something else from a helper.
“You wonder what I am doing?” she called loudly. “I have a gift to give Lord Rasten, a treasure that was kept for just such a moment as this!” she called. Holding both her hands high, she displayed another sword, unsheathed and gleaming in the Elvin lights.
“Lord Rasten, arise!” she instructed, and Rasten easily stood. “Take this and treasure it. Wear it to battle, and acquit it with honor and strength. I give you Sayarin’s sword; Sayarinueramim, the Sword of Honor!”
Amein barley managed to get the words out, tears pouring down her cheeks, the emotional depths with which this touched her overwhelming. The hall had erupted with applause, most also overcome and with wet eyes. The Elvin greatly loved their history and honored those who did great deeds. Sayarin was among the greatest so admired.
Rasten had taken it, from Amein, but was forced to wait until the crowd subsided, to reply.
“I should be honored to wear my father’s device, and hope I might bring no shame to such!” he called.
After the formalities, Rasten had put on the sword, and he and Amein, had stepped down, where they might greet and accept the kind words of all that wished to speak to them. It was very late before they returned to the clan home, accompanied by Amein’s family and many others. He had been hugged and kissed by untold hundreds, some of the females being less formal and more enticing then Amein would have approved of, had she not been busy in much the same manner.
“Well, now you get to earn your keep!” Kalida suggested slyly.
“He’s had to put up with Amein all this time...he’s well earned his keep!” Heiveri suggested.
“Mother!” Amein cried, but to no effect.
“Have you told him yet?” the older woman demanded.
