by Pelaam
There was no help for anyone anymore. While the human men were sent to work the mines, their farms were left, only tended by the womenfolk and children. Attacks by goblins and other fell creatures were becoming a norm neither human, Fey, nor Duende could afford to ignore much longer.
With tactical assessment in his mind, Hanne glanced around the camp. The Lady Citlali was obvious; she had the bluish hair, and sat away from the rest of the prisoners. Twin women were secured to a tree, and a woman with long, platinum hair and a blank expression sat with preternatural stillness next to an unconscious and wounded Fey soldier.
Experienced enough to read the scene, Hanne kept his anger in check while he looked to see who his opponents would be; goblins and gremlins. Hanne hated them both. With the same care as he’d approached the camp, Hanne backed away. It was time to strike.
The thick bole of a tree hid Hanne from sight as he rose to his feet, and then gave an undulating Duende war cry. An answering bellow echoed around him and Hanne gave a grim smile.
“Attack! We’re under attack.” The shout came from one of the gremlins who ran back into camp. The others all jumped up, including the slower-moving goblins.
As fast as Hanne ran, Myghal galloped past him. The centaur swung a broad sword and a solid, iron-studded club with deadly accuracy; one gremlin lost a head and another’s skull was crushed as the centaur gave another bellow, rising on his hind legs.
The goblins and gremlins shrieked, and ran in disarray, clearly not expecting such an assault. Hanne ran toward the twins, deciding to free them before heading to Citlali who stood looking around, an expression of confusion on her face.
“Go. Help your fallen comrades.” Hanne pushed the women gently toward the wounded man and unmoving woman. Then he stopped as they held onto his arms.
“They hurt Muraco so badly. He still tried to protect Namid,” one woman said.
“And then they took Namid away. We’ll never forget her screams.” The other spoke up.
A low growl escaped Hanne, but the women didn’t pull away. Only the lashing of his tail gave away the true extent of his anger.
“The cowards are running away, Hanne. But I don’t want the men pursuing them too far. You never know if the little bastards have reinforcements.” Myghal shouted over from where he’d used his club and sword on a goblin that was now almost unrecognizable.
“We need these people back at the fortress as quickly as possible, Myghal.” Hanne indicated Namid and Muraco.
The centaur snorted, coming closer, and looking down at the wounded Fey, then grinned at the twins.
“Can he ride?” Myghal pawed the ground.
“He’s unconscious. He’d probably fall off,” Hanne snapped, his face creased in a frown of annoyance.
“We are Naira and Rayen. Can you carry three of us?” The twin on Hanne’s left spoke up.
“We can hold him.” The other twin released Hanne’s arm to touch Myghal’s shoulder. “We’re good riders. We won’t fall, will we Naira?”
“Not at all.” Naira shook her head.
“Right. One of you women clamber up,” Hanne ordered, shaking his head as Myghal laughed.
The woman, Rayen, leaped agilely onto his friend’s back. With as much care as he could, Hanne scooped up the unconscious Fey, settling him closely behind Rayen.
“Tie him to me.” Rayen pointed to the rope that had held her prisoner. “Then do the same to Naira. My sister and I will not let him fall.”
The women were brave and strong, and Hanne admired them, and quickly did as Rayen asked.
“I’ll get the man to the physicians, and the women to Lord Amand, Hanne.” Myghal trotted back and forth, clearly trying out the weight of the Fey on his back. “I’m certain there will be no survivors amongst the mercenaries. They feared their master enough to fight to the death. None I fought opted to surrender. Take care, my friend.”
“And you, Myghal,” Hanne shouted after the centaur as he galloped away. He dropped down onto one knee and tilted Namid’s head to look into her eyes. With a sigh, he looked over at Citlali, and their gazes locked. She looked shocked herself. But it was more likely to be from the sight of a Duende helping a Fey.
“How is she, Hanne?” Another of his men came running up.
“I have seen some whose eyes were vacant like this, Menno. Some recovered and some remained like this for the rest of their lives, their minds destroyed.”
“I have their horses.” Menno looked over his shoulder. “If you can get her on one, I can ride with her and ensure she doesn’t fall. That will still leave you four horses to bring along. Here, wrap this around her.” He passed over his cloak, and Hanne carefully wrapped it around Namid.
“Don’t worry, Menno, I will ensure the horses don’t get left behind. You will have some more to care for. Get the one you want to ride.”
Menno returned in seconds with a filly in tow. His own stallion trotted at his master’s side. Menno grinned at Hanne.
“This is hers, I’m sure of it. The horse will be something familiar to her.”
“Keep it still,” Hanne muttered as he lifted an unresisting Namid.
“She’ll stay still, won’t you, girl. You want your rider to be safe, don’t you?” Menno crooned, and Hanne shook his head. Sometimes he was sure Menno preferred the company of his beloved horses to people. But the skittish horse calmed at Menno’s words.
As Hanne settled Namid on the horse, Menno leaped astride his own, bringing the two horses close so he could wrap an arm across Namid’s shoulders.
“You know your filly, don’t you?” Menno murmured to Namid in the same soft tones he had used with horse. “She knows you. Between us, we’ll keep you from falling. But if you held the reins, we’d both feel a lot happier.”
Even Hanne couldn’t help but smile when the Fey reached out and took hold of the reins. She didn’t look at Menno, but it didn’t matter. She’d heard, understood, and obeyed. There was hope her mind would heal along with her body.
Now it was time to deal with Citlali. Hanne was glad she was unarmed. Her reputation as a warrior was well-known. She watched him intently as he approached, her body as tense as a coiled spring. Hanne hefted his knife and slashed through her bonds.
“Lady Citlali, you appear unhurt. Can you ride?”
“I am unharmed by your mercenaries.” Citlali’s tone was as frigid as her body language. “This faked rescue fools no one.” With no further warning, she lunged at Hanne, but he was too quick.
Nose to nose, Hanne kept a tight grip of Citlali’s arms, ensuring they were pressed close to her body.
“They are not our mercenaries.” He was in no mood to be polite. “As yet we do not know who our nemesis is, but we are not as easily fooled as you Fey. We are the victims. However, in this instance we are your rescuers. You will come with me to Lord Amand. It’s the only way we can ensure your safety, and ensure that no one tries to make war with us claiming your death as the reason. If you will not ride peacefully, I will tie you to the horse.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Citlali gasped aloud, her tone dripping with outrage, but Hanne was not joking.
Several panting, grim-faced Duende gathered around them.
“We have no prisoners, Hanne,” one announced. “They chose death over surrender.”
“Whoever is their real master pays them well and instils them with such fear that death is preferable to failure.” Hanne shrugged. “It does not matter. We succeeded in rescuing Lady Citlali and her retinue. We must return to our castle swiftly, before the mercenaries’ master can intercept us.”
Offering what meager friendship he could, Hanne wrapped his own cloak around Citlali before leaping astride a horse.
A surprised yelp escaped Citlali as a couple of his men lifted her and Hanne settled her in front of him.
“For your own safety, my Lady.” Hanne smirked. He wasn’t surprised when her eyes widened in shock. He’d chosen to file some of his teeth, a trait favored by some Duen
de warriors to make themselves appear even fiercer in battle.
“Let’s go. Back to the fortress.” Hanne roared and his men answered. There was no time to waste.
Chapter Four
As he approached the fortress, Hanne smiled. He was grateful that they hadn’t been attacked en route. A couple of his soldiers had sustained serious wounds, but Duende were resilient. They’d survive to boast about their scars.
The citadel was carved out of the mountain on which it stood. A place that could be defended well: high, solid, and strong. He felt the shudder from Citlali. He imagined that the cold grey stone was vastly different from her marbled palace of cream, brown, and pink. But in Hanne’s mind, while her home was pretty, it wasn’t easy to defend. Too open, no defenses to keep an attack at bay. Hanne by far preferred the fortress of Lord Amand.
To reach the actual fortress meant ascending the narrow trail cut from the rock as they wound up the mountain face. Anyone going upward was vulnerable to attack from above while still being a long way from the citadel. Hanne had heard talk the Fey would get war machines if it came to an all-out battle between Fey and Duende.
To ensure such machines were forced to remain at a distance, a large moat, wide and deep, had been dug at the base of the mountain. Although a warrior, Hanne’s heart was heavy at the thought of just how close to war the two races had come.
Finally, the huge, thick, iron gates opened slowly as they reached the entrance to Hanne's fortress home. Inside was a courtyard with a mix of human and Duende milling together amicably, getting on with daily life. Hanne let himself relax, and assisted Citlali to dismount. He gave his horse over to one of the stable hands.
“You grow food here.” Citlali’s voice drew Hanne’s attention to her.
“Of course. We no longer have land beyond the mountain and those humans who still farm have been threatened with retribution if they sell to us.”
“That’s not true.” Citlali threw the cloak from around her shoulders and glowered at Hanne.
“It is true.” Hanne growled through gritted teeth. “You may not know of it, Lady, but it is truth nonetheless. This way, if you please.” Hanne snatched up his cloak and shoved it into Citlali’s hands.
With a scowl as dark as the mountain itself, Citlali wrapped it around her and fell into step with Hanne.
Despite her belligerence, Hanne admired Citlali. She didn’t cower or shrink back. Perhaps Lord Amand was right. That things were happening, done in Citlali’s name, she knew nothing about.
There was little or no natural light within the fortress, but many fires, braziers, torches, and candles warmed and illuminated the hall in which she stood.
“Am I to appear before Lord Amand as his prisoner?” Citlali asked.
“Lord Amand felt you might prefer to bathe and eat once we brought you here. Then you and he can meet and discuss what has happened.”
“Where are my people?” Citlali took a couple of extra steps so that she stood before Hanne and gazed up at him.
“Myghal will have taken your captain and the injured woman to Lord Amand's physician. I will find out for you where the twin pretties are. If they can be of help, they may be with the physicians. Up here.” Hanne indicated a large staircase, and Citlali walked alongside him once more.
Along a hallway, Hanne came to a halt outside a thick wooden door with a Duende soldier standing rigidly at attention outside. The soldier gave a quick bow which Hanne acknowledged with curt nod.
The soldier opened the door and stepped aside, and Hanne led the way in. Lord Amand had picked this room for Citlali as it had a window which looked out over the courtyard. On the table was a tray of fruit, slices of brown bread, and a slab of cheese, as well as a flagon and a cup.
A clean, cream dress lay on top of the bed. The scent of fragrant oil drifted into the main room from an ante-room over to the right.
A woman with paler skin and hair than Hanne’s came from the ante-room. Hanne recognized her as one of many half-Duende who’d taken refuge within the fortress. She curtsied before them.
“My name is Ebba, and Lord Amand asked I attend you. I filled a bath for you, Lady Citlali. The flagon contains fresh water. I will be close by if you need anything.”
“Thank you.” Citlali inclined her head slightly.
“The door will not be locked. However, for your own safety, there will be a guard.” Hanne held up a hand as Citlali readied to argue with him. “Some of our people want war with your kind. They are tired of being blamed for things of which we are all innocent, of being forced to live behind stone walls, and unable to walk freely. So far, Lord Amand has managed to avoid direct conflict. He hopes that in trying to attack you, our true enemy has made a mistake that will prove to be his undoing. You will be given time to refresh yourself, Lady Citlali. I wish our meeting had been under better circumstances.”
“I thank you for your hospitality, and that of Lord Amand, and seek an audience with him at the earliest opportunity.”
“Indeed, Lady Citlali.” Hanne gave a curt bow. “I assure you, the same is true of Lord Amand.” Without another word, Hanne left the room, eager to meet Amand and relate the events around the rescue.
His own bathing would have to wait. Hanne strode rapidly to Amand’s study. He rapped at the door before stepping inside.
Amand was already on his feet. The Duende lord’s features were only marginally less refined than a Fey, his elegant bone structure giving him high cheekbones and a straight, slender nose.
Unlike Hanne, Amand had gold beads threaded into his strip of short, dark hair. Hanne preferred his own blue-green feathers. However, the dark brown leather vest and pants Amand wore were exactly like Hanne’s: old, but good, solid, and hardwearing.
Neither of them wore shirts beneath the leather, and Amand’s nipple piercings, just like Hanne’s, now glinted from the light of the fire.
“Good to see you back safely.” Amand extended his hand, and Hanne clasped it tightly.
“A couple of men wounded. They’ll live to boast of the gremlins they killed.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it. The lady Citlali?”
“As feisty as her reputation, Amand.” Hanne laughed. “However, I managed to dodge her ire. She’s unharmed, but concerned for her people.”
“As a good leader should be. Have a drink with me. We’ll give her some time to bathe and refresh herself.” Amand went to a small table and poured wine into metal goblets, indicating for Hanne to sit down. “If my gut feeling is right, she’ll summon me fairly soon.” Amand grin was grim, and Hanne nodded.
“I’d bet money on it.” Hanne accepted his drink. “How are her people doing?”
“The soldier will recover. Although a little slowly. The wound was dirty. The physicians needed to clean it thoroughly. As for the woman … her body will recover quickly enough. They cannot say about her mind.” Amand slammed his goblet down. “May they all bleed and die slowly.”
“They shall.” Hanne nodded. “But she responded to Menno. With the horse. Her mind hasn’t entirely shut down.”
“True?” Amand looked up quickly. “When we take the Lady Citlali to visit them, mention this to the physicians.”
“I shall.” Hanne took another drink. “What now?”
“Now I try to persuade Citlali that we are both victims. Someone seeks war between our races, sowing seeds of hatred. Somehow, we must learn to fight together, to unearth this enemy, and crush him.”
“She’s strong willed. I hope you can make her see truth, Amand.”
“It won’t be easy. But failure isn’t something I’m even willing to consider.” Amand raised his goblet in a salute. “To your successful rescue of the Lady Citlali, and to a brighter future.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Hanne tapped his goblet against Amand’s, then settled to wait for the call that Citlali was ready to meet them.
Chapter Five
When Ebba came to the study to let Amand know Citlali had requested an audienc
e, Hanne was surprised that Amand asked for his company.
“I saw her at her palace, a couple of times, when visiting her father. She’s as beautiful as she is intelligent. I’d prefer you at my side, Hanne.”
“Of course, Amand.” Hanne marched in step with Amand as they strode to Citlali’s room.
The soldier rapped on the door, opening it at the shout from within. He stepped back, allowing Amand and Hanne to enter.
“Lady Citlali, welcome to my home.” Amand bowed. “I wish the circumstances could have been more pleasurable. I realize that the memories are unpleasant, but I need to know exactly happened when you were in the forest.”
“We went for a ride. We were attacked without warning by gremlins and four heavily-muscled goblins.” Citlali began pacing the floor as she told her story, her eyes fixed at a place Hanne couldn’t see, only imagine.
“The goblins’ teeth were sharp and black. They and the gremlins forced us apart as we fought. They wounded Muraco, my captain, and threatened to kill him if we didn’t surrender. Then the twins were caught in netting. It was impossible to fight our way free, yet they didn’t seem to want to kill us.”
“Indeed? I’m sorry, my Lady. It must have been desperate for you.” Amand took a step closer to Citlali, and then stopped as she stared at him, her eyes narrowing. “Please continue,” Amand said, his voice clipped.
“I thought they wanted us to demand a ransom, since they could have killed us. One of the goblins seemed to be in charge. He laughed at me. Called me weak, foolish, and soft. Said that the fallen should be left so that the fit could continue.”
“As I understand it, neither goblins nor gremlins care for their fallen comrades.” Hanne sniffed loudly. “No honor. Not like Duende warriors. We would never leave an injured comrade behind. You acted honorably, Lady Citlali.”
“I believed them to be your servants, your mercenaries.” Citlali stopped dead and glared from Hanne to Amand as if expecting an admission, and yet her eyes betrayed a hint of confusion.
