To Claim the Elvin Princess: Apprentice (18 page)

30

Rasten had been hugely skeptical about learning anything regarding what Amein called
sorcery.
His education on Earth had ill prepared him for a discipline not exactly based on what he called science. That he had witnessed it being used, even on himself, seemed less inclined to make him believe in it than it likely should have. Still, when he was sent off to study it, with the Elvin Master Sorcerer, he tried not to grin too much.

Rasten found the Master’s place astounding, being large and staffed by several dozen elves, young and old. He arrived near lunch time, and was invited to join the group at their table. Master Emareili asked Rasten a dozen questions and listened to the answers, before pointing a finger at him.

“You are skeptical of what we call sorcery!” he declared, which got Rasten handily stared at by everyone within hearing. Knowing it was pointless to be less than honest, he shrugged, searching for a way to explain his feelings.

“Forgive me, but my understanding is poor, and contrary! I watched Amein use spells on our transit here, but perhaps because of my upbringing on my old world, I seem less than eager to believe my own eyes!”

“There is no sorcery on that world?” the Master asked, amazed.

“There is what they call science, which seeks to explain everything in rational terms. Long years ago, people believed in magic and witchcraft...a magical version of sorcery...they even had people who claimed to be sorcerers, but weren’t! Mostly they were people with a bag of tricks, or slight understanding, who fooled the uneducated into thinking they had powers they didn’t! As the more rational understanding of things supplanted all of these, they fell into disfavor...so much that all who claimed to be magicians, or sorcerers were dismissed!”

“Your world has embraced a machine way of things, hasn’t it?” Emareili wondered, rubbing his nose.

“Mostly...they have developed many advanced ways to manipulate the world.”

“Have they learned how to destroy an entire universe?” the Master wondered, pointing at a roll in a basket. A small gesture caused it to rise up and float towards the Master, as Rasten sat, spell bound.

“No...although they have learned to destroy whole cities with some of their weapons...”

“Then it would seem our sorcery is more powerful than your old world’s science?” the old elf suggested, grinning as he plucked the roll out of the air.

“How...how do you do that?” Rasten whispered, amazed.

“That’s what you’re here to learn!” he chuckled, nibbling on his roll. “But to succeed, you need to believe you can! It takes much concentration to master many of the spells we use, and being inattentive can be dangerous, to others and yourself! You would need a lifetime of study to master all that we know, but we will attempt to teach you the basics, at least so you can defend yourself against others who would harm you.”

“I hear Shocara has some skill?”

“Phhha! She is a beginner, but can do many wicked things against the untrained! You are likely to contend with her at some point, and thus need to be able to counter her ability. Were she to encounter a truly skilled sorcerer, she would likely find her ability greatly diminished!”

“By having her confidence eroded?”

“Precisely! Half of mastering sorcerer is such. Of course, half of mastering any skill is such faith in your ability to learn and accomplish it. Is that not true of the sword and your other skills?”

“Of course...I think the hardest lesson is to accept that you can master a discipline. I’m likely to need some work on that here...” he declared, and sighed.

“You aren’t going to be happy for a while then!” the Master laughed.

The reason for this came to him soon after, when he was handed over to a young teen elf girl, who was declared to be a tenth level sorcerer. Rasten was amused by her serious and dour appearance; she clearly wasn’t happy to have him as her problem or student. He hoped this might mean she would be less inclined to act flirty, and so it seemed, as she began lecturing him on certain fundamentals. His responses proved less than pleasing to her, and she was soon frustrated.

“You act like you don’t even understand the least bit of sorcery!” she moaned.

“I’m not even sure I believe it to be real, or at least that I can do it!” he replied, smiling impishly. This garnered him a stern, hands on hips stare, which reminded him of Amein’s pouty exasperation at times. Her pouty look soon changed to one more wicked, and she closed her eyes, and began moving her hands while whispering something almost incomprehensible in high Elvin.  When she flipped her hands over in his direction, he felt a strong jolt, much like being kicked in the ass might seem, followed by a wicked burning pain, that slowly moved up his spine. He leaped up, wanting to scream, but was too paralyzed to do so. He noted the now smug looking elf make another gesture, and the sensation stopped instantly. He collapsed onto the floor, groaning, only the memory of his suffering still with him. He looked up, to see his instructor staring down at him, arms crossed and looking amazingly pleased.

“Might you require more of such, to be convinced that I’m serious?” she asked, sounding like she would be extremely pleased to demonstrate more, should he be slow. Rasten managed to shake his head, and climbed slowly to his feet. He took his seat, and devoted all of his attention to her instructions, having no desire to repeat his ordeal. When she was finished, Caiteri sent him off, with things to practice.

Rasten had been mildly hopeful that Amein would be sympathetic to his plight, telling what he had experienced at the sorcery school.

“Master Emareili did that?” she asked, brows furrowed.

“No, I have one of his students...some young elf girl...” he sighed.

“Name?” Amein asked, curious.

“Caiteri...I thinks that’s what she said....why are you laughing?” he demanded. Amein was nearly doubled over from her mirth.

“You think you’ve got some flunky instructing you?” she managed to gasp.

Rasten shrugged. “She’s not?”

“Oh, my...Rasten...she is what you’d call a prodigy...she’s from the Elvin world of Am-Alicarin...she was discovered at age six, and sent here to study with Master Emareili...she is gifted beyond all others, and will likely take his place one day. He has chosen the very best there is to begin you with! And you think she’s just a cute little elf girl, don’t you?!” she demanded, hands on hips and giving him a wicked frown.

“Well, she is cute...but she seems more serious than most girls. I was honestly hopeful that she might leave me alone...as far as trying to seduce me at least!”

“Don’t count on that lasting! At the moment, she likely is just annoyed with you...I think she proved that by frying your butt! If you pay attention, and do well, she will find you a lot more of interest!” Amein insisted. “No elf, no matter how studious and obsessed with their craft they might be, none are less inclined to play and be had. If anything, they tend to be as intensely focused on being pleasured as they are on their more skilled or scholarly pursuits!”

When Rasten returned the next day for more instruction by Caiteri, she found his attitude much more to her liking. She soon discovered a new annoyance, while working to teach him a simple charm, such as Master Emareili had used on his dinner roll.

“You aren’t saying the words correctly!” she complained. This made Rasten frown, as he was certain he was speaking exactly as she had instructed.

“Am-cadouacameridi!” she repeated sternly. Rasten again said the word, but his instructor frowned even more intently. She repeated the word, and Rasten did likewise. Caiteri threw up her arms in frustration.

“You don’t speak High Elvin properly!” she moaned.

“That’s crazy...everyone understands what I say just fine!” he insisted.

“But when you speak, you sound a bit different than a normal elf would! It doesn’t matter normally, but in sorcery, the sounds you make have to be precise!”

“So I have an...” Rasten stopped, realizing there was no word in Elvish for what he was thinking. Worse, he suddenly understood that he had no memory of the language from the world of his birth.

“What is wrong?” Caiteri asked, seeing his shocked look. Rasten described what he was experiencing, as well as he could. This left Caiteri speechless, having no awareness of such. She took him to the Master, who listened, and smiled.

“You just now noted that your old language is missing? That is a simple fact of the universes, which we still do not grasp, even after all our study and experience. As to the other, the word you want is
cuparishi,
the difference in speech, within a people. The Eridians, and many others exhibit this, speaking slightly different, depending on where they are from. The Elvin are different, speaking precisely the same, no matter even on which world they are born! The problem is, that in sorcery, the way words are spoken matters much. You will need much practice, to over rule your natural instincts, and to be able to say them properly!” the Master declared, as Rasten shook his head.

“More work!” he moaned.

Caiteri smiled at him warmly, whether from sympathy or amusement, he could tell.

“Perhaps I might devote some additional time to helping Lord Rasten with this, since I am knowledgeable in the words we use for spells?” she suggested, eyeing him. Rasten had discovered that Caiteri was well past her seventeenth birthday, and thus well of age for naughty play. Her expression seemed to hint that such might be on her mind, but he couldn’t be certain.

“Come...let’s go practice some!” she said, hopping up, and taking his hand. She led him back to the room she used as her own sorcery studio, and had him sit facing her. They spent the next hour carefully working to get Rasten to say words as an elf might speak them. This devolved into much laughter, as Rasten sometimes failed more amusingly than others.

When they were done, he expected to leave, as Caiteri stood, but before he could do likewise, she slipped close, and turned, sitting handily sideways in his lap. Rasten noted a wickedly smug look on her beautiful face.

“Perhaps you would be grateful for my instruction, and in return, instruct me more in things I have an interest in?” she asked, brimming with a steamy naughtiness.

“What might you lack skill in?” he asked, wanting to force her to declare her intentions openly.

“I would wish to be instructed in sexual matters, as I’m sure I’m less skilled than I’d wish to be!” she declared, giving not the least hint of embarrassment or hesitation.

“Why might I suspect you aren’t lacking all that much?” he asked, wishing to tease her.

“Perhaps because you’ve learned well how we elves are inclined?” she replied.

“Aren’t you afraid I’d be as bad in bed as I am at sorcery?”

“You couldn’t possibly be that bad!” she giggled, and planted her lips on his. When she pulled back, her breath soft and steamy, Rasten noted that her nipples were pushing hard at the fabric of her blouse. Caiteri hopped up, and slipped astraddle of his lap.

“You’ve got me excited...it’s considered terribly impolite to arouse an elf, and not take care of her urges!” she whispered, and giggled again, as she put her lips firmly back on his.

31

Shocara had been reasonably pleased by the raid on the Elvin village, their losses small. She was less than pleased that her men had taken the Elvin females, and was even more annoyed that her own village’s men had traded much gold to the others to keep all of the Elvin in their village. The Eridian men had been much pleased by this, but Shocara found herself with new problems stemming from such success.

She had been passing through the village proper, heading for where the terranaks were penned, intending to make a short flight to a nearby village, when a half dozen angry Eridian women accosted her, demanding to speak.

“Why are you so angry?” she asked, concerned.

“Our lives are made unpleasant and more hard by your allowing of things!” one insisted. Shocara was puzzled by this.

“What have I allowed, that wrecks havoc on your lives?”

“Those ones!” another hissed, pointing at  a passing Elvin woman, sweaty and burdened with an armful of firewood. It took a moment for Shocara to understand what possible effect this might have on the women folk. When she  suddenly grasped it, she almost laughed.

“Your men think to neglect you, in favor of the Elvin? Is that it?”

“Of course it is...we are expected to be as we always have, while they play with them! It is an affront that they should treat us so poorly!”

“Have you abused the Elvin, in response to your jealousy?” Shocara demanded. She was met by a host of guilty looks.

“You should not care what we do to torment them...they are the enemy!” one shrieked.

“You are fools! If the Elvin knew you were inclined to harm their women in your spite, what do you think they might do to such ones as yourselves, when they capture them? I know of no Eridian women and children tortured or killed by our enemy. We should not wish to give them reason to do so! It is likely bad enough that the men rape them...you females should not wish to be as wicked, unless you are prepared to pick up the sword and fight along with the men. I will not hear of anyone harming or disfiguring them in spite!” she loudly insisted, seething with anger.

Shocara pushed through the stunned women, and went on, more angry that she thought reasonable.

Why are you so mad?
she wondered, reaching her mount, and preparing to fly.
Why do you not wish to torment them? You hate their beauty as much as any!

It took reaching her desired height and leveling off, before she considered her feelings more deeply. The answer to her puzzlement came, swift and shocking.

You feel guilty for the Elvin women being taken, raped and made slave, understanding what that might be like should you fall victim to it!
Shocara felt this along with an intense wave of shame. Since when did any Eridian care how terribly the Elvin were treated?
Somehow my heart knows we are wrong, and even if we aren’t, we still temp fate by doing this! The Elvin could come in mass, and overwhelm us, stripping our villages one by one of women, dooming us to a bitter end, without killing another warrior!
The certainty of this made her cringe, but also mystified her.
How can I know this? Have the gods chosen to enlighten me, or...am I somehow showing the ability of a seer?
The idea of this made her shiver, the Eridians who divined the future and sought the signs by which they might know more than their normal senses allowed were greatly feared, ingesting wicked things to make themselves better able to experience visions. Most thought them utterly crazy, and much to be shunned, unless their skill was needed.

I could order them to return the Elvin, to free them, but everyone would think me mad! They would take it as a sign of weakness!
She considered this, before an idea came to her.

I can justify it, not as being wise or kind to the Elvin, but as a way to reduce strife among our own people. Much evil will come from our women being jealous, and likely more than one husband will die at the hands of his mate!
This seemed likely and reasonable. The men would complain, but the women would be greatly relieved.

When she returned to her village, she decided to address her warriors when they gathered to eat, and tell them her thoughts regarding the taking of Elvin women. She soon had second thoughts, as her speech was met by near hysterical laughter.

“Princess! You can’t be serious!” Hacarim managed to sigh, shaking his head.

“I am not only serious, I insist that you listen to me! This didn’t come to me for nothing! We have long flirted with danger, but usually only managed to snatch one or two of their females. The last raid you took a dozen...I am certain the Elvin will be inspired to retaliate, likely in kind! Are all of you so displeased by your women and children that you’d be happy to have the Elvin take them?”

“Princess! They never have! Why would they now?” someone asked.

“Because perhaps they are growing as tired of this endless war as I am! Their Princess is young and bold, and much inclined to do things perhaps that others did not! Even worse, our spies have brought us a more terrible omen...Amein ventured off world to retrieve a mighty warrior, who may rise up to vex us!”

“And why should we fear a single warrior, even an Elvin one?” Hacarim laughed. Shocara sat, staring at him, as if she had been carved of stone. The men began to fidget, her manner disturbing them.

“Well?” Hacarim asked.

“He is said to be Sayarin’s son...you have perhaps, heard the legends of him, have you not?”  This caused consternation and much unease. Lord Sayarin had beat down, and vanquished the Eridian’s time after time, punishing them wickedly for their incursions and attacks. Only by sorcery had he been over come and brought low; none had had the skill to best him with steel.

“I see his name makes you more thoughtful, and less foolish? We are moving toward a future much different than our past; my whole being tells me this is so! We will either rise up and find a way to win against the Elvin, or we will be at last forced to bow to them! I hope for the victory, but will kneel if there is no better way! I will not see our people go on, dying by small bits, wasting away to nothing! I am no seer, but my heart tells me something profound is in the wind. The coming of Sayarin’s son is an omen to our people! We must make every effort to prevail, or accept our fate!” she insisted, her words strong and forceful, her emotions plain and strong like her words.

“I would rather die than submit to the Elvin!” Hacarim proclaimed loudly.

“That may well prove to be your only choice...” Shocara sighed, suddenly tired. She rose up and went out, seeking Garen.

“What is wrong, Princess? You look so tired!” the old Eridian suggested.

“Dear Garen, I am worn out from life itself, I think. This war is so tiring...” she complained, sounding sad. “Where are the Elvin women? Take me there!” she said suddenly, seeing him nod.  She was soon at an old storage building, which had been turned into a makeshift facility to house the captured ones when they weren’t in an Eridian man’s furs or working. She unfastened the hasp, which kept it secured, and went inside. There were a half dozen Elvin females sitting and watching her. Shocara was again touched deeply by the beauty of her captives, and hastily pushed any thought of it away.

“Do any of you speak my language? I would speak long with one who does!” she declared. The Elvin looked at each other, all wondering if this was some sort of trap, or wicked plot. Finally an elf who seemed a young girl to Shocara, stood up. Speaking in near perfect Eridian, she addressed Shocara.

“I speak your words, mistress...” she admitted.

“Good...come with me!” Shocara ordered, and when the elf was close, she found her arm firmly gripped by the Eridian, who led her out. The girl was marched in silence to Shocara’s small cabin, and when the were inside, Shocara bid her sit on a pile of furs, and slipped down facing her, close enough to touch. The elf’s nervousness was plainly visible.

“What might you wish to speak of?” the young woman asked, surprising Shocara with her bold innocence.

“I would know many things of the Elvin! What is your name?”

“I am Tainaria, Mistress, but I know nothing of things you might find useful, such as strengths of warriors or the plans of our leaders!” Shocara smiled, hearing this.

“I would not be so foolish as to expect such from you. I wish to understand...what is it to be Elvin? What things might make you the people you are? We have been at war many long years, but my people know little of what you are. Because of that, your motives are unknowable and your actions make little sense to us! We learn to hate you almost before we can walk, yet none now might know why. We are perhaps poisoned by our bitterness and envy!” Shocara suggested, amazing her guest.

“What might you envy?”

“Everything...your wealth and power, your sorcery...and your beauty...”  Shocara added this, strangely embarrassed to admit it. The elf was stunned.

“But mistress! You are exceedingly beautiful! And many among your people are also very attractive! As for the rest, if there was peace, all we have might be yours!”

“Why should that be so?”

“Because...are you aware that the Elvin exist on a thousand other worlds?” Shocara’s face displayed her shock.

“We have heard tales, from the traveling ones, that the Elvin had a great sorcery, that allowed them to walk in far flung places...such is true? And you occupy those worlds?”

“Of course! The Elvin could muster millions of warriors easily, and do, to battle evil all across the stars! When they find other peoples, who are not evil, they aid them and share their abilities with them. Hundreds of others battle alongside them in their campaigns! Your people could be part of that grand force!”

“How is it that a simple girl in a small Elvin village would know such things?” Shocara wondered, suspicious.

“We are long in school, and taught an endless number of subjects. Among them every Elvin youth is taught our long history, our victories and our failures! We are a proud race, but we carry much guilt also!”

“For what?

“For destroying several races, whom we deemed evil, but later discovered we were wrong about. We also destroyed an entire universe, to get rid of an evil group of beings. Many innocent ones perished in that!”

“What is a universe?” Shocara asked, completely astounded. This forced the elf to explain what stars and worlds were. When Shocara began to grasp what the young one was telling her, she was astounded.

“The Elvin had that sort of power?!” she nearly shrieked.

“They still do, but long ago vowed never to use it, except under the most desperate of needs. Elves are pretty fanatic about fulfilling promises and vows!” she added, and giggled.

“So no matter what we do, your people won’t just wipe us out?” Shocara wondered, thinking this good to know.

“No, but they can bend you to their will in a hundred other ways!” Tainaria suggested, trying not to smile.

“But they have not done so! Why?”

“I have no idea. Perhaps Amein has other plans...”

“What do you know of Sayarin’s son?”

“Nothing much...I was in Alarinad studying, and departed just before he returned to us. I assume he will have his father’s skills!”

“We would find little joy in having another like Sayarin to plague us!”

“Why is that...Princess Amein is his daughter...” Tainaria said. “You didn’t know that?!” she asked, seeing Shocara’s terrified expression.

32

News of the Eridian attack and capture of the Elvin women reached Alarinad quickly, shocking everyone, including Amein. She had been busy entertaining guests from other Elvin worlds, when an aide hurried in, and whispered the news in her ear.

“What has been done regarding this?” she asked. rubbing her temples.

“A large contingent has been dispatched to guard and assist the people!”

“How many were killed or wounded?”

“All of the warriors, and a dozen villagers, who fought. They took a dozen females...” the assistant whispered, “and as much of value as they could carry!”

“Was...”

“Shocara led them, Princess...” the elf responded, guessing this would be most of interest to Amein. “Instructions?”

“Go find Lord Rasten, and have him meet me at the terranak pens...we will go see to them ourselves!” she declared. Amein gave her guests a brief explanation of what had transpired, and put them in the capable hands of her sister Eriemia, who served as her assistant related to off world Elfin affairs, until she might return. It would take them two hours flight each way, to and from Hireinti.

Rasten was waiting when she arrived, having only heard brief rumors that something dire had occurred. Amein gave him a brief accounting before they mounted up. Both were wearing heavy coats, to deflect the cold winds at altitude, as well as leather gloves.

They soon rose high up, Amein navigating as she knew more reliably where they were headed than Rasten, whose knowledge of geography was based on study, not experience.

Rasten found the vista below them to be astounding beautiful, village after village set perfectly among lush forest or farmland, the Elvin devoted to beauty in how they lived and arranged their habitations as much as they did the inside of them. They flew silently, the cold, rushing wind discouraging any urge to speak. When they were approaching their destination, Amein yelled, and pointed, before dropping into a long glide, which Rasten followed.