The Solitary Arrow Ch. 12

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Harlen nodded and they moved south a ways and started moving east again. The army had escorted them as far as it could on their quest. As the orc encampment slid past on their left, they heard the clashing of arms and the unmistakable screams of dying men and orcs behind them. It seemed Hyandai shed a tear for every life lost. After three hours, moving stealthily to avoid detection by orc patrols, they started to climb toward a low mountain pass. Harlen stopped and rummaged in his pack, pulling a spyglass from it and removing its leather caps. They were above all but the highest of the hills to their west, and had a excellent vantage over the battlefield. Harlen looked slowly over the smoking and masses of dark spots on the ground behind them. "Morrovale won." He said, smiling with pride. "But it was not a cheap victory." He ammended.

She looked at him with concern written boldly upon her face. "Yes, Dannes lives." He said, handing her the spyglass. She peered through it and he directed her aim. She smiled broadly as Dannes tended his wounded father's arm. He seemed unhurt, but the losses brought another set of tears to her eyes, as she saw hundreds of men among the piles of orcish bodies.

"The orcs must have strongholds up north, they are retreating that way, leaving their vile little camp as plunder, not that it will fetch much loot." Harlen said. "Looks like about thirty of one hundred casualties. Which is not too badly done. The orcs payed dearer for it."

She shrugged. "Death is death." She said. "I wish for none of it, if it could be helped."

He kissed her brow. "It couldn't, in this case." He said, taking the spyglass and carefully recapping it before collapsing it and putting it back in his pack. "Those orcs had to be dealt with."

Nodding agreement, Hyandai turned and began climbing up the steep path again. Harlen looked down into the hills below, and saluted at his fellow men of Morrovale, then followed her.

They had crested the pass about the time the sun fell low enough to cast the hills below in darkness. They watched with interest as the horizon chased them up the mountain shoulders. They had found a out of the way little nook in the rocks to pitch their blanket and were enjoying a moment of quiet before retiring. Harlen sat behind her, and idly stroked her soft hair.

"I know you don't like the ugliness of war, Hyandai, but I am proud of my people for that victory." He said, touching her shoulder.

She looked back at him. "As you should be. They did what needed doing." She said. "That is the fey of man, to do the necessary. It is an obsession with most men."

He nodded and gently kissed her shoulder, smelling of her scent and feeling her soft hair tickling his cheek as the wind caused it to flutter lightly. This wondrous woman in his arms was heartsick over the death of men she did not know. He loved her for that empathy, and feared for her over it. "Do you think you will be happy among men?" He asked, quietly.

She shrugged. "I do not know, my betrothed." She said. "I know I can be happy with one of them." She favored him with a small smile. "But as a whole, they are almost utterly alien to me."

He emphatically agreed with that assessment, nodding eagerly. "I understand that." He said.

The sun had finally set upon their mountain aerie, and they slipped into the blankets. After seeing the carnage of a war, neither felt much like love play, and they just held onto each other, listening to the ancient grumbling of the mountains in their slumber.

---

Harlen awoke to find Hyandai kneeling nude nearby. She was praying, and he left her to it, watching her unobtrusively. She had her face pointed into the skies, and her hands upon her knees as she knelt. She looked to be very happy as she prayed, almost ecstatic. When she rose, she turned her eyes south and east. "We are close now." She said quietly, then looked at him. "Maybe two more days."

He nodded and sat up. She began to dress, covering her lovely form with the doeskin clothing he had made for her. Her expression was determined and somewhat cold. He did not like the latter much, but supposed it came with the former, if her mind was set on something. They ate a quick meal of bread and an apple, then headed onward. The pass was narrow, and they kept their bows strung and an arrow knocked as they proceeded, fearing ambush at any time from the overhanging rocks and cliffs.

"I've never been this far east before." Harlen said as they trudged over the broken shale of the pass. Hyandai smiled and said. "I have never been so far east, myself." Then she giggled, sending her musical laugh over the stones and lifting Harlen's spirits.

They began to descend the other side of the initial barrier range of the mountains. A narrow, barren valley laid before them followed by another, higher range of mountains. Hyandai pointed a bit southward. "We will have to move south through this valley to a pass farther south." They soon reached the valley floor and looked about them at the rather bleak landscape of rocky outcropping, punctuated by small, stunted shrubs and weeds.

"Lovely place." Harlen said idly. "Perhaps we can build a summer bungalow here."

She smiled at him. "Just what I always sought, a house with no view." He replied.

Her sharp ears heard the orcs long before they were visible. They left the main path and went a ways up a small ravine, drawing their cloaks tight and tossing the hoods over their heads. The orcs passed, a small force, but more than two could deal with, almost twenty of the brutes. One even looked directly at the couple before moving on.

He looked at her while they waited for the orcs to move away. "Do you think the orcs may have your relic?" He asked.

She shrugged. "It would avail them not, except to deny it to us." She said. "But they are as likely as anyone to have it, I should guess."

They finished their southward move, and she directed them east again. "It lies that way."

The sun was failing them in this little valley, and Harlen guided them off the path again, and far into a ravine, where they were around a small bend from the path. They tossed out blankets and laid down, eating their supper quietly.

As full dark stole over the valley, Hyandai climbed atop a large boulder and watched the sky, she called to Harlen, who clambered up after her. They watched as stars fell from the heavens, dozens of them, in ones, twos and threes. She clutched herself to him and smiled at the sky. "It bodes well, my betrothed. The spirits show us the way." She pointed east, where the little trails pointed, one after another.

Harlen nodded agreement, thinking that the One could work just this same way, but he stilled his tongue. She kissed him as he watched the next star fall. He made a fervent wish upon it, and smiled as she probed his mouth with her tongue, and her hands began to move over his body, along with her own breath shortening and becoming more insistent. He enjoyed her aggressiveness this night and she used him well and thoroughly, breathing energy into him twice before her lusts subsided, and her eyes virtually glowed with their greenness. The fell soon after into a very deep sleep.

--- The next day passed quickly, the climb to the pass they sought was steeper than they had thought, and it took much effort to climb, even having to get out ropes and pitons in a few stretches. Shortly after the sun set, they finally crested the pass and looked through the narrow cleft between too high peaks. There was no good place to camp, other than right in the pass, but given the difficulty of their ascent, they figured it was not well-traveled. They were also exhausted by the exertions of the climb, and both fell asleep soon after they ate and laid upon the blankets.

---

The dawn was late in coming, due to low-hanging clouds, or they appeared so from this altitude. The gray rain-laden clouds seemed to scuttle just overhead and they felt impending rainfall. Both pulled their cloaks tight against the breezes that cropped up from the storms, cold and stiff.

They plodded, nursing aches that they had earned yesterday, muscles seldom used were called to duty then, and today they wished to be repaid for their efforts. Harlen smiled as Hyandai attempted to rub her own shoulders, and took pity on her and gave her a quick backrub as they took a break. She moaned quite arousingly at the backrub and they very nearly got sidetracked at that point.

About midday, or so they judged, they looked out and down into a small valley. In the middle of the valley lay an ancient fortress. From what Harlen could tell it was Syrisian, having seen ruins near Morrovale of their buildings. They did not use stone or bricks, those ancient folk. Their structures were cast of some material akin to mortar and, according to the texts, they were liquid until they were poured into great wooden molds, whereupon it hardened and turned as tough as most stone. It allowed them to build structures of fanciful shapes and unbelievable size. This one was no exception. In much better shape than the small one in Morrovale, this structure towered over two hundred feet over the floor of the valley, with sheer smooth sides and odd fluting on its flanks. The top was crenelated, like a castle, and it had tiny arrow slits set into its sides from about two stories up to five. The material was supposedly a pale gray in color when made, but this building had aged for a very long time, and was nearly black with discolorations. It stood like a black and stricken tooth in a man's mouth.

They stopped and ate, while Harlen used his spyglass to examine the building. "There are orcs about." He said, finally, with a disgusted sound in his voice. "But it seems not too many, certainly not an army."

She nodded. "The army was in the hills trying to stop me, I know it." She said, looking back west. "Your countrymen took that obstacle out of my way."

Harlen nodded. "It sure seems it. How do you think that whomever rules that tower knows of your coming?" He asked.

Her face darkened again. "We suspect a traitor in our midst." She said quietly. "Do not look surprised. Elves are quite capable of treason, especially those who have a fey given to it." She looked at him with somewhat pained eyes. "Some betrayals are great, others small, some national, some personal."

He kissed her gently. "Stop that." He said, chiding her gently. "I accepted you, even when you told me of your fey. And I do accept it, too. It is part of what makes you yourself, and a part of why I love you."

She smiled bitterly. "Thank you, lover." She said. She looked into the valley. "Do you think we can bypass the orcs and reach the tower?"

He nodded. "I think we can, especially with my magnificently crafted cloaks." He said, grinning broadly and pulling his mottled gray cloak tight about him theatrically.

Hyandai kissed his stubbly cheek. "Of course, my beloved." She said, and patted his shoulder patronizingly. "Your humility is only exceeded by your brilliance."

They waited until near darkness to move from the cover of toward the entrance to the tower. As they neared it, it became much less obvious that they place was occupied. There were great chunks of the stone-like material missing from the walls, and even a few small holes near the ground. They handily eluded the orcs that patrolled the grounds around the fortress, though, and soon found themselves slipping through the gate way arch. The stench of the tower was very orcish in flavor, and they both wrinkled their noses in disgust.

They found themselves in a wide corridor that ran through the tower to the back, and apparently on, even from there, into the mountain that loomed over the massive structure. The corridor was lined with open doorways, that seemed to lead into stables and storage rooms. No horses were housed in these rooms however, and only the ragged bedclothes of orcs or perhaps fell humans could be found in them.

The couple were moving silently now, slipping down the hall as quickly as they dared. They heard gruff voices coming from ahead, and saw shadows playing on the wall opposite of one room. Hyandai jumped into a room off the corridor and Harlen followed her as the voices became distinct, and apparently entered the hallway.

"...humans pushed our boys back, they did." Said the first voice, deep and guttural.

"What do you expect from ragged lads from little holds, hmm?" A second voice said.

The first voice replied. "I expect them to hold their damn line." He chuckled. "But, you're right, they couldn't stop the humans, lets just hope that the bitch doesn't try to get here before we get more boys into position.

Two figures walked past the doorway from the hall to the room they were within. One was a tall brute, like the one that had raped Hyandai, the other much slighter, with ornate tatoos darkening his skin.

"The boss says that she won't." The first voice said. "She's playing house with some human in Morrovale, or so his 'friend' says."

The second one chuckled along with the first. "I'd like to play house with an elf girl for about two days, before she keels over from bleeding all the time." He said, laughing.

They left the tower, still chuckling as Hyandai peered around the corner.

"You think they're talking about you?" Harlen said.

Hyandai nodded. "They have to be." She said, her face marked by deep concern. "I wish I knew who was feeding them information."

Harlen moved into the corridor, now he had his sword drawn, and moved quickly toward the back, where a narrow stair went upward from the left side of the corridor. They ascended the stairs stealthily, coming to another long passage. This one marked by many fewer doorways, and terminating about halfway down in a pair of double doors. They peered around the corner of the stairwell, and saw two particularly large orcs wearing heavy armor guarding the doors. Harlen pulled his head back into the stairwell.

"I take it that the Ehladrel is beyond those doors?" He said, a wry grin on his face.

She rolled her eyes. "Naturally." She said, sheathing her hyandai and lifting her bow off her shoulder. Harlen readied his own bow, and they prepared to shoot the two guards. Harlen looked at her face, it was locked in a rather cold expression, with little emotion in her large emerald eyes. He wondered for a moment if his eyes looked the same.

Harlen stepped into the hallway, bringing up his bow in the same moment. Hyandai was right behind him, leveling her bow at the other orc, and chanting a short incantation. The orcs had no sooner focused on them and started to react when they both fired. Harlen's target was struck in the right shoulder, causing it to cry out in pain, and drop its long warspear. The orc Hyandai was aiming at slammed into the wall with a dull thud and left a bloody trail down it as it slid over the smooth material.

The orc who had taken Harlen's arrow, bellowed in pain and rage, drawing forth a wickedly hooked short sword from its belt and charged at the pair. They both fired again, Hyandai missed her mark, and the arrow struck the wall, shattering with the impact. Harlen's arrow struck home, though, burying itself in the orc's neck, silencing it forever.

However, the damage had been done, they could hear answering shouts from the stairwell, and the stomp of many heavily shod feet. They looked at each other briefly, and bolted for the double doors. They slammed into the heavy doors, and Harlen wrenched at the huge brass ring set in one's center, pulling it open. As soon at there was a few inches between the doors, Hyandai slipped past them, and right after that, Harlen followed, he heard an arrow thunk into the door as he entered the room, already grabbing for the handle on this side, and pulling. The door pulled shut and he looked for latches or something to hold them shut. Set into the floor beneath each door was a hole, about half the diameter of a man's wrist, and a matching ring in the bottom edge of the door directly over it. He looked for the pins that would lock them and saw them sitting on a ledge right beside the door. He managed to drive them home just before someone pulled on the ring outside. Shouts of frustration filtered into the chamber from the hall beyond.

Harlen finally turned to look into what he took to be a large chamber, judging from the echoes he heard of the doors shutting. He saw Hyandai standing right beside him, her eyes wide with disbelief. Her bow dangling limply from numb fingers.

He turned more and saw, descending the raised dias before them, from a rather ostentatious throne, an elf. In his hands, he was carrying a Ehladrel, very much like Ceriandel's weapon, but more ornately carven. It seemed to radiate power as he hefted it, letting it swing gently from his hands, flowing in graceful arcs from one hand to the other. He said something in elven to Hyandai, causing her to blink out of her stunned silence.

She looked at the elf a long moment, as he walked across the floor, the arcs of his weapon becoming wider and starting to flow together into a single long motion.

"You had no right!" She yelled at the elf. "It is not your choice to make."

He chuckled. "You wish me to speak in the human tongue? For the benefit of your pitiful lover?" He asked, in Westron. "Very well, since you, like so many of my people, find humans so fascinating." His face showed disgust, and when he said human it sounded almost like a grave insult. He stopped advancing, and let the Ehladrel slow to a idle pace, flowing back and forth, changing hands and describing short, elegant arcs. "We have spent our best blood helping humans, and receive nothing in return." He said. "When are you going to figure that out, they will exterminate us. Not by avarice, but by sheer ignorance and fecundity." He looked at Harlen askance. "And you, whore, you further the crime by hastening your own race's demise by allowing your own womb to breed more of the beasts." His eyes shot back to Hyandai. "You may wish to let your people die, and let yourself rut with animals, but I will not, and I will stop it." He said, his voice lowering to a very threatening tone.

"Your wife died in the Windir Isles, did she not?" Hyandai asked, her eyes focused not on him, but on the Ehldarel in his hands. "She died a noble death, defending helpless children." She said.

He barked out a chilling laugh. "She died protecting the pups of men, who could easily just mount their wives and produce another litter!" He spat on the floor. "A stupid death!" He raised the weapon again. "Like yours will be." His body flowed into motion, seeming to blur to Harlen's vision. He was going straight for Hyandai, though, the Ehladrel in his hands humming and beginning to sing in a high, threatening note. Harlen drew out his sword, even as Hyandai began to dodge aside from the coming blow, reaching for her own weapon. The ehladrel whistled through the air she had just occupied a tiny moment before.

Harlen swung the sword, and felt a shock through his arms as the ehladrel seemed to just happen to be in his way. His weapon bounced off the elven bladestaff and he recoiled, seeing the elf glare at him with intense hatred in his eyes. Already, the elf was swinging toward him with the razor-edged ehladrel.

Hyandai finished her rolling evasion and came up on both feet, leveling her bow at the elf. "Letharon, stop!" She yelled, drawing back a white arrow, and then started chanting the words to give power to the enchantments laid upon the bow and arrow alike.

The elf glanced toward her, giving Harlen a chance to step back, bringing his sword back into line to defend himself against the dangerously whirling ehladrel.

Letharon smirked. "You know you cannot kill me with a bow, you stupid cow." He said, again watching Harlen.