To Claim the Elvin Princess: Apprentice (26 page)

46

Word of the Eridian attack on Usaritein reached Alarinad swiftly, and did much to please the Elvin at large. The idea that the Eridians had suffered a substantial loss seemed perfectly just, and the word that only a handful of Elvin had perished seemed even better news. Amein seemed less pleased, when she returned, the Elvin death toll being a half dozen and all warriors. None of the non-fighters had been killed, unlike the attack on Alarinad, wherein most of the casualties had been non-combatants.

In spite of this, she was frustrated and angry, the temptation to retaliate and wreck vengeance on the Eridians strong. Only the possibility that the Elvin captives might be made to suffer gave her pause. That and Rasten’s teasing.

“Oh, so I’m told to reject vengeance, but it’s fine for Miss Elf?

“Of course not!” she declared, and stuck her tongue out at him, to display a childish sense of annoyance. “But we have to do something to punish them!” she complained.

“It looks like they did a good job of punishing themselves! If the reports are accurate, they lost a lot of people!” Rasten insisted.

“We managed to save two of them, and have them captive. I’m sure they are not pleased! They were moved here...shall we go pay them a visit?” Amein asked, smiling slightly.

Going out, they made their way through the Citadel, coming to the place where such captives were held. The two captured Eridians were being kept separate, having no idea the other was anywhere near. One was still weak, and recovering from his wounds, but the other had done better, and was sitting up. He looked up, curious, wondering if he might have a chance to escape. He was unfettered, and frowned, to see the door slide open and Amein and Rasten both enter, seemingly unconcerned. He was sitting on one end of his sleeping platform, and Amein stepped close, sitting beside him. She could sense his consternation, and confusion easily.

“I am Princess Amein, and this is Lord Rasten, Sayarin’s son. What might be your name?” she asked, her Eridian flawless. The warrior seemed astounded, that the leader of the Elvin might be within arms reach and he suddenly made up his mind to try and take advantage of this, intending to grab Amein’s neck with his strong hands. He soon regretted this.

Amein merely looked disappointed, as she touched his neck lightly, before his hands could even exert the least pressure.

“Behave,” she said quietly and a sharp burning pain exploded through the Eridian’s body. “Now, I would know your name,” she repeated. The Eridian seemed more inclined to obey, gasping for breath a moment, before nodding.

“I am called Lucerto,” he managed to confess, no longer believing that Amein was an easy target to be overcome.

“You are from Shocara’s tribe?” she asked, and received a nod.

“Why did you attack Usaritein? Do you know?” The captive shrugged, gesturing slightly with his hands.

“I suppose because we could...we heard that a large mass of flyers had departed the city, and hoped we might have a better chance.”

“But that was not the case? The warriors knew you were coming!”

“But how?!” Lucerto demanded. “Is there a spy among us?!” he demanded, offended.

“Nay...we have many powers among our people, with which we might give warning of such a thing,” she declared simply, wishing to keep him uninformed.

“Then we are doomed,” he said, his terror plain.

“Lucerto, I am sad that your people died. We have no desire for this war! All the Evin have ever wanted is for there to be peace, so that your people might prosper, and have no lack, no need, as you do now. Your lives can’t be easy, with all of the loss and disruption that the constant fighting brings!”

“Our lives are hard, but what else might we do...if we didn’t fight, we would soon become weak, and unmanly!”

“But there are others, who are evil that you might fight, wielding your weapons beside us. You could win great renown in such fashion, and keep your skills sharp! But your people, your families would be safe and secure. Does that not seem more desirable than what you endure now?”

“Princess...who am I to understand such weighty matters? I am a simple warrior, who does his duty, and tries to survive. Now I am doomed. I am not afraid to die, but who will tend my animals, and care for my family when I am gone?”

“It is not my desire that you perish here. I would have you carry a message to Shocara for me, speaking of these things, not to try to undermine her, but to entice her to consider a better way.”

“None of our people have returned to us...why should I be different?” he asked, suspicious.

“Because I wish it. All of the others we’ve captured are still alive and well, living among us free and unfettered.”

“How can this be?!”

“They found that life free of war and suffering is quite desirable, and choose to stay; you could do the same, but if you wish to return to your people, I will permit it, as long as you promise to take my words to Shocara,” Amein sighed.

Lucerto, had expected to be questioned about things related to war, such as the number of warriors and flyers the Eridians had, but he was amazed to be asked none of these. Instead, Amein and Rasten asked him to describe his life and village, his family and how they lived. He could see nothing that might be used against them, and so answered, finding Amein to be warm and seemingly sincere. This disturbed him much, later after they had departed, their manner much different than he had imagined the Elvin might be.

When they were returning to the main area of the Citadel, Amein thought to ask Rasten for his observations.

“He is much disturbed, we seeming different than he expected,” he suggested.

“Was he truthful?” she wondered.

“Yes, in spite of not wanting to be. He was afraid to lie, for the most part. Our reputation for having wicked powers does much to encourage honesty, at such moments!” he chuckled. “What did you do to him, that stopped him from strangling you?” he suddenly asked.

“He wasn’t intending to harm me...he wanted to be able to use me to bargain for his freedom! Come here and sit!” she insisted. Rasten did so, reluctantly. “It’s a simple spell, that you should learn...” she said, reaching out to touch his neck, as she whispered a small series of words.

“Shit!” Rasten managed to half yell, half gasp, as a sudden sharp shock exploded from his neck down to the base of his spine. Amein’s giggle did nothing to make him less annoyed.

“You found that unpleasant?” she teased.

“That made my asshole hurt! You need to teach me how to do that!” he demanded.

“Only if you swear not to use it on me!” she laughed. “But if you do, be advised...I can do something even more painful!”

“Great!” Rasten complained. A quick kiss from Amein made him less annoyed.

“So, do you trust him to convey a message honestly to Shocara?”

“Reasonably...but she will dismiss it, at least at first. Oh...I didn’t tell you! Our people in Usaritein report that they believe Shocara was wounded...apparently someone got her with a throwing knife! How are you doing at mastering that?”

“So, so...it’s a lot harder than it looks! Can you hit anything?”

“About half the time...I’m much better with a sword, than a throwing knife! But it’s important that you try to master it...” she teased.

“Really? But you get a pass? Who decides such things?!” he demanded.

“I do...and you will obey me!” she insisted, before erupting into giggles. “No!” she shrieked, as he began tickling her.

They sat quietly for a time, Amein perched on his lap, content to be held.

“I feel sorry for her...I know how terrifying it has to be to be wounded. I also know what it feels like to lose people under you. She lost a quarter of her force, and had she not had such a number in the air, she’d no longer be a problem!”

“You sound more relieved by that, than upset. Still think she’s the key to finding peace?”

“Of course. I just hope they don’t do something evil to her for getting her butt beat! We understand little of how they think,” she complained.

“Our captive wasn’t all that helpful at explaining them either,” Rasten suggested.

“Hardly...they have a pretty basic view of the world; Eridians, good, Elvin, evil! They fight us, hoping to win, to attain some level of vengeance, we beat them well, and give them more reason to want vengeance! But if we don’t beat them down, they get bolder, and do more evil. Only if we can get past this stupid cycle will we have a chance for peace.”

“Don’t you imagine being wounded will make Shocara more inclined to hate us?”

“Perhaps...but we can only hope such will make her more inclined to contemplate more deeply. She got her ass handed to her well on this adventure, and one would hope she’s wise enough to at least consider that she might be foolish. If she has to confront the idea that we want something other than war, perhaps...perhaps she might at least start on a road to a better place. Her people will be the worst thing holding her back. Traditions cuts deep among all races, and imprisons us in many different ways!
It’s always been done this way!
How often do we hear such a thing? The Elvin are not immune to this either!” Amein proclaimed.

“We are all creatures of habit?” Rasten wondered.

“Of course. Even worse, pride can keep both an individual and a people imprisoned in a pattern of doing! The Eridians have little else, but their strength in arms, to be so about. They are fiercely proud of their fighting skills, so much that one lacking them is treated as a second class person within their society. To have a choice of a mate, they must prove their worth as a fighter. Otherwise, family arranges who they will have, with no input from the ones, especially the male, involved. The women who can fight are highly prized, and often can only be had by being beaten with a sword, as has been reported many times!”

“I suppose it’s good that I don’t have to fight you with a sword just to get in your pants,” Rasten teased.

“Perhaps, but I’d likely let you win, just so I could be had!” she confessed, looking embarrassed. 

47

Shocara had been weak, having lost more blood than she thought. She had fallen into a daze, and been carried to her cabin, where she lay, feverish and mostly unaware. Garen had sat with her almost non-stop, tending her, and wiping the sweat from her face. He managed to get her to drink, having to lift and hold her upright, she being too weak to sit up on her own.

On the third day, her fever broke, and she managed to drink more, finally sleeping, calm and relaxed. Her fever had been accompanied by much upset and movement, as if she was being tormented by evil dreams.

When she awoke again, in mid-afternoon, she was hungry, and Garen went to get her some broth and bread. The news that she seemed better was greeted well by most, who had worried what her dying might mean for their people. With no offspring to take her place, leadership would have devolved into a contest of wills, likely causing many deaths before someone arose strong enough to keep all the tribes under their thumb. Shocara might have her detractors, but she was considered much the lesser of evils by most.

While she ate, Garen waited, eager to tend her wound and see how well she was recovering.

“Did I speak while I was unaware?” she asked.

Garen frowned. “You muttered much, that I could not understand...at times you cried out...as if hurt or afraid. Did you dream?”

“I seem to recall that I did...evil ones, mostly...” she sighed. She suddenly looked pale and distraught.

“What? Something worse plagued you?” Garen wondered, speaking gently.

Shocara wiped at her eyes. “I...in one I was confronted by the Elvin Princess...” she managed to whisper. Garen nodded, hoping she would continue.

“Yes? Were you fighting her?”

“No. I was...kneeling at her feet...sur...surrendering...and swearing...allegiance...” she managed to say this, her voice barely audible.

“It was only a dream...” Garen suggested.

“So was the one that warned me of our defeat at the hands of the Elvin!” she loudly declared, her voice an agonized hiss. “Have I seen the future? Are we doomed?! Dear Garen...how could I bear to be in such a place, to be the one to bring us to ruin, who must needs bow and make us slave to our enemies?!” she cried.

“You will find ruin quicker if you surrender to mere dreams, and give up!” the old one suggested. Shocara considered this, and suddenly laughed.

“You are so wise! Truly, my worst enemy is my own fears!” she said, eager to shake off her funk.

While she finished eating, she allowed Garen to brush her hair as he had done since her childhood.

“I am pleased that you survived...I could not bear to lose you!” he suggested.

“You would be sad? I think I would be also, even in the land of the dead; I would miss your attention and devotion. Who would I trust without you?” she asked, having cared for Garen more than her father or other family.

“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.