The Solitary Arrow Ch. 19

Ceriandel saw his sister smiling, so arrived at the same conclusion.

Harlen was too happy just to be with his beloved, that he hardly could think at all.

"Ealina, I will be in my chambers for an hour." Hyandai said. "Alert me if anything changes."

"Of course, Lady Hyandai." The aide said, smiling.

Hyandai led Harlen across the sloping catwalk to her own room, at least what was serving as her room for now. Upon entering she shut the door.

"I have missed you greatly." She said, her back pressed to the door.

Harlen smiled, turning to face her. "And I, you, very much." He said, and walked up to her. He kissed her again and she responded warmly, pressing her mail-clad body against him.

"Can we manage with the armor on?" Hyandai asked "If I remove it, I may not be a very active lover."

Harlen looked at the chainmail, lifting the hem of its steel ringed skirt. "I believe I can work around that, my mailed maiden." He said.

"Good." She said, tugging at his belt, and pulling him toward the small cot. "Then you have been miscreant in your duties to me. If you will note my rather alarmingly ungreen eyes."

Harlen nodded as she sat upon the bed and pulled her boots off. She looked rather different in the armor, he decided, less helpless, more the warrior. She scooted up onto the cot and laid back, watching him intently.

Harlen kicked off his own boots, then took off his pants. "You may wish to leave the shirt on, lest you get pinched." Hyandai said.

He nodded agreement. She giggled at his already swelling organ. "Even in war, there you are." She said. "You are a lust fey's dream come true."

Lowering his head to her ankle, Harlen began to kiss his way up her long, slender leg. She sighed as he passed her knee, and began up her thigh. Her legs moved apart and she felt the chainmail being slid up against her smooth skin, along with its underlying padded layer.

A loud groan escaped her lips as his tongue and lips touched her opening. Her hands gripped the sheets at the intense stimulation and long absence of it. "It has been too long." Hyandai said. "Fifty-nine years of nothing, and now two weeks is too long."

Harlen chuckled as he continued lapping at her clitoris and sliding his tongue into her. She began to wriggle about, causing the mail to clink and squeak oddly.

"We go to war tonight, very likely, and yet, I only wish to have you inside me." Hyandai said.

Harlen nodded and rose up from her middle. "It seems logical to me." He said.

She smiled as he moved up her body, but missed his kisses on her torso that he would have laid down had her chainmail not been present. She moved her long legs outward to accommodate his large frame and felt his cock pressing against her opening.

A tiny sense of dread was quickly overwhelmed by a greater sense of anticipation and desire. "Take me roughly." She said. "I need to feel everything."

Harlen smiled and kissed her lips. "Very well." He said.

His thick cock opened her entry then he halted for a moment, gathering himself. The next moment, he was fully within her and her breath was releasing in a loud cry of pain and joy. He began feeding into her the two weeks of loneliness and fear and frustration. His organ pistoning into her repeatedly, spreading her entry wide and burying itself to the base in her tight cunt.

Soon all the pained sounds left her cries, and were replaced by only pleasure. Her body had not forgotten her lover, it simply desired a object reminder of him. Her face softened as the pleasure built up.

"I feel like myself for the first time in days." She said, then giggled. "Now if only I could eat while you do that."

Harlen smiled broadly. "I would not complain if you did so." He said. "Should I fetch something?"

Hyandai wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him to her. "I think you better stay." She said, her breathing growing more labored. "There is an event scheduled for you to attend." This last came out rather slurred and almost as a single word.

A similar feeling was creeping into Harlen's loins as she felt his impending climax build. His back and sides burned from the force he was pouring into taking Hyandai this time, and she was responding by accepting every thrust fully, allowing him to batter his way into her small body.

She cried out again, this time more loudly, and for a long moment. Her scream held a note for several heartbeats, then died down, moving through the tones of her range until she was silent again.

He could feel her opening contract around his shaft, tightening and then loosening. Her own thrusts had ceased as she climaxed. Now they began again, with renewed vigor.

"Time for your release, beloved." She said. Staring at him with emerald eyes.

Her voice had lost all traces of the masculine edge he had noted. This was all Hyandai now. Or perhaps Hyandai plus fey, but there was no more man there. This relieved Harlen quite a lot.

The enthusiastic assistance she loaned to the effort paid off quickly, as he grunted and his orgasm gripped him. Plunging into her a last few strokes, he fell over that precipice and his cock twitched with each jet of warm semen he spent into her.

She continued grinding her pelvis against his swollen cock for several moments, she was encouraging him to keep feeding every drop of his seed into her. Her hands were moving over his cheeks, chin, and neck.

"Beloved, I never wish to be apart from you again." She said. "It was too painful, and this too pleasurable." Her voice was tired and gaspy.

Harlen slid back and his organ slipped from her tight opening, hanging flaccidly from him as he sat back onto his haunches, still between her legs.

"Never more than necessary." Harlen said.

He crawled up beside her and laid at her side. She tried to curl up against him, but the limited mobility offered by the armor prevented a truly satisfying cuddle.

She got a rather upset look to her face. "I regret, lover, that we will not be allowed to stay in this comfort for long." She said.

A few minutes passed, then a few more. And he simply held her curled form. She may have even dozed off for a few minutes, but soon was awake.

"We need to finish preparations." She said. Her voice once again tinged with some man's tones. "This was more than a welcome thing, beloved, but we can ill afford more." Hyandai sat up and drew on her boots. Harlen did the same, crawling out of the bed to slide his pants on. A few minutes later, they were back in the command room.

Ealina stifled a giggle as they entered. Ceriandel did his level best to ignore Hyandai's suddenly very green eyes. He was her brother after all, and very likely, no man, or even elf would be thought a worthy partner for his beloved sister.

"Back to the matters of import." Hyandai said, squeezing Harlen's hand gently. She looked down at the model. "What think you of the defenses?" She asked all around her.

A moment passed as Harlen and Ceriandel blinked, but they both started moving after that moment. Harlen crouched low over the illusory buildings and trees, and miniature people, moving about. It was an exquisite projection of the village, and he knew that if he looked hard enough, he would see himself looking down at a smaller model of the model.

"You have fortified well, for what you had to work with." Harlen said, eyeing the palisades and trenches before them. North of the village on the map, there were many milling figures, three hundred yards or so north, if the scale was accurate. "The enemy?" He asked.

Ceriandel nodded. "I know little of massed battle, but I know defenders usually have the advantage." He said. "The enemy will, even now, be relying upon their superior troops to win the contest.

Ealina shook her head. "It is all very foreign to me, lady." The young elf said. "This is why we defer to your judgement in this matter."

Hyandai nodded. "Yes, some have been here a day and a half, others have arrived through the day." She said.

"Why do they not attack now?" Ceriandel asked.

Pointing with one finger at a glowing nebulous shape at the edge of the model's extents, Hyandai said. "They await one last company." She said. "They are coming from that direction, the north west. They march even now, and will arrive just after midnight, lest they stop."

"A large company?" Ceriandel asked.

Hyandai shrugged. "Large enough, nearly two hundreds more." She looked at him. "Scouts only espied their camp two days ago, just before they all were recalled and no more went out."

Ceriandel gasped. "Nine hundreds then?" He asked.

She shook her head. "No. A thousand." She said, pointing to a knot of troops south west of the village. "Those are also theirs. I assume they intend them to prevent any escape."

"Harlen, I apologize." Ceriandel said. "I may have brought you here to die."

Harlen squeezed Hyandai's hand. "I would rather die beside you than live without you, as trite as that sounds."

"It does not sound trite in your voice." Ceriandel said, turning to Hyandai. "Give me thirty men and I will neutralize that southern unit as soon as the battle commences. The cavalry, they will not be needed defending the wall."

Hyandai nodded. "That may well be a good idea." Her voice subtly changed. "An attack would be the last thing they would expect from a besieged village. Ealina get him those cavalrymen." Ealina and Ceriandel left the chamber.

"Come Harlen." Hyandai said, her voice still rather oddly different from normal. "You should be kitted for combat. She led him down a few ramps, passing other elves who stared after them for a moment but then moved on, busy with their own chores. They came to a heavy door, Hyandai rapped her knuckles upon it.

A few moments later, an elderly elf, the first Harlen had seen who actually looked old, opened the door. "Athelan, this is my betrothed, Harlen." Hyandai said. "He needs gear for this battle, have you any for one of his stature?"

The elderly elf looked at him askance. "A big one, is he not?" He asked, chuckling and beckoning Harlen in after him. "Come, Harlen, we shall see what the armory holds."

They followed him down several rows of shelves, stacked with various armor and weapon pieces, sections, and entire sets.

Finally, he stopped before a small barrel sitting on a shelf. "This was found on a Dark Templar several years ago, that several of our rangers brought down." He said, pulling the lid off the barrel. He dumped the contents on the floor. It was a suit of chainmail, he lifted it from the mixture of sand and oil with which it had been stored. "It should fit your big man well enough." He chuckled, lifting it with effort and handing it over to Hyandai. Her arm sagged under the immense weight as she turned and gave it over to Harlen.

She handed Harlen the armor. "We can cut you a saddle blanket for padding, you are a horse anyways, eh?" The old elf smiled at him. "Its good armor, lad, the rangers killed him with a headshot."

"Very comforting." Harlen said, with a wry smile. "I'll remember to keep my head down."

"You have a sword, I see." Athelan said. "Perhaps a dagger?" He lifted a long-bladed dagger from a shelf. "For your off hand. You carry a bow, so I assume a shield is not your desire."

Harlen nodded and belted the dagger's sheath to his sword belt. Two young elves had arrived and were slinging the chainmail against a low wooden wall, knocking the sand and oil mixture off of it where it collected in a basin at the base.

In truth, a saddle blanket was found and a hole cut through for his head, and then it was trimmed to fit to his sides. The chainmail was cast over all, and he was girt with his sword and the dagger, his bow and two quivers of his own arrows. He walked out onto the catwalk to Hyandai's regard as she turned from another aide who had born her a report.

She smiled broadly upon sighting him. "You look verily the hero now, Harlen of Morrovale." She said, walking up to him, her own armor shimmering like liquid metal over her body. Harlen chuckled as she hugged herself to him and he embraced her. "It makes you even huger." She giggled, grasping her wrist behind his back. "I can barely get my arms around you with this gear on."

He picked her up and kissed her, lifting her off the floor of the catwalk. "I can still reach around you, my lover." He said. They kissed this way for a long moment, before an aide coughed an interruption. Harlen gently sat Hyandai back upon the ground and moved back a few paces.

She turned to him. "Word has finally gotten to the lord and lady." Hyandai said. "They wish to speak with us, now." She looked rather worried, but more annoyed than that. "Like we have time for this." She grumbled, again in the oddly different voice.

They walked down the long stair then across to the throne building. The curtains were still fluttering in the night air, and the temperature was dropping rapidly, Harlen noted as his breath became visible before him. A cold, blustery night, perfect for a battle. He thought. Just needs to rain.

As they walked across the polished floor, the room only dimly lit by a few torches on the columns, the air of impatience grew in Hyandai's very footstep, and Harlen began to need to nearly jog to keep pace with her.

He looked at her face, and saw a set jaw, and eyes turned deepening green with suppressed anger.

They approached the two thrones, only two advisors stood by them, one near to each. Hyandai began her tirade even before reaching them. "I know that he was not supposed to be here." She said. "But, he is here, and it is too late to send him away again. If you wish to haul me before a trial and try me for disobedience or him for trespass, then do so, after the battle." Her voice once again had the undertones he had detected before, masculine and very strong-minded.

The two nobles blinked a moment. "Lady Hyandai." Said the lord, Ircandann. "If you would but still your tongue a moment."

She stopped talking, and even stopped preparing to talk, and just stood there.

"We were mistaken to send your betrothed away." Ircandann said. "It simply caused you distress for little gain. Such treatment was not always our way, but I suppose the little thoughts spread by the traitors have infiltrated even our own very minds. We doubted the possible loyalty of a human, when arguing that we should ally with them in the same sentence. Such dichotomy would not serve as policy."

Ircandann nodded toward Harlen. "You are not only welcome to stay, Master Harlen, but we are grateful for your strong arm in our hour of need." He appraised the armor-clad huntsman. "The armor of war looks suited to your use." He said, smiling.

Harlen nodded. "I suppose humans are made for war." He said. "Or at least made capable of it."

"Please forgive our misgivings, we will not let such doubts cloud our judgement in the future." Lady Melewen said, her silvern eyes bright in the dim room. "Go, make your preparations, and we will make ours. We will meet you upon the northern tower."

Hyandai bowed as low as the armor would allow, and Harlen did likewise.

"What shall I do?" Harlen asked. "You are to be commanding from the tower, and they will be with you, but me?"

Hyandai smiled at him. "You are my personal bodyguard." She said. "Though I daresay being beside me may not be the safest of places in the battle." She looked over the palisades as they mounted the steps up a sturdy wooden tower. "The traitors will wish me dead, knowing I am the source of tactical guidance for the villagers."

"What of the Ehladrel?" Harlen asked. "Who wields it?"

She looked back toward the throne room. "It is there, awaiting our last desperation." She said. "We dare not let it fall into their hands, therefore we can only use it at direst need."

Harlen shook his head. "A weapon so powerful that you cannot afford to field it." She said. "A dubious usefulness."

He peered out into the darkness beyond the palisade. He could barely make out moving shapes in the deep gloom there. The enemy had chosen well, if humans were to be aiding the villagers, it was a moonless night, and the stars provided scant light through the remaining canopy over the village. A man would be virtually blind in that dark.

Harlen took out his spyglass and looked upon the enemy ranks, there were indeed hundreds of them, many hundreds. They all wore light gray cloaks, nearly dragging the ground with their hems, with deep hoods that shadowed farther their faces. They looked almost as wraiths in the darkness, the wind fluttering their long, loose garments in the night. The glint of starlight on polished steel was quite evident, though, and the spears and swords looked almost like a dense bramble of glinting metal.

Long moments passed as aides and captains came to Hyandai to give word of the enemies disposition and to ask for commands in response to those movements. She soon had the palisades as manned as maybe. The walls were topped with narrow scaffolds, upon which stood archers, two hundreds of them, along with a elf with a spear and shield every third person. Another half a hundred were at the base of the wall, ready to ferry off wounded and bring fresh arrows at need to those on the wall.

There were no reserves.

Soon, word was brought that the last regiment of the enemy were moving up from the left flank. Two hundred strong, as they had been told. Hyandai sighed. "This is going to be a bloodbath, is it not?" She asked Harlen.

Harlen nodded. "I fear it will be so, my love." He said.

The defenses erected in the last few days seemed now woefully inadequate. And the militia pitifully undertrained. Hyandai was certain this was her last night in Feldare. She had spoken to the spirits and tried to heed their advice. Now it was come, the last moment.

Lord Ircandann climbed up to the small command tower and greeted them. He was now wearing chainmail, similar to Hyandai's, but more ornate and finely-crafted. Lady Melewen followed him, also clad in armor, but of overlapping scales on a leather backing. Hers had been enameled red, so that she looked to be wearing a dragon's hide upon her body, a broad-bladed sword was on her slender hip.

Hyandai caught the direction of his gaze and whispered. "She is of a warrior clan, they are all very skilled, and all wear such armor, see?" She pointed to the wall, and here and there, among the others in leather and chain, were such scale-clad warriors, bright red against the natural browns of the palisades and grays of the other warriors' armors.

There was now a deathly silence, as people checked their straps and tightened belts. Swords were loosened in sheathes, and bow strings were checked for frays. Some of the archers were arraying their arrows before them on the wall, ready for fast reloading. A few had their heads bowed in what Harlen realized was Oneian prayer.

He decided to do the same. Prayer seemed a good idea at this moment. He lowered himself to the floor, upon his knees and bowed his head. Inside his mind, he thought of his life and his friends and family. He thought of Hyandai most of all.

An image in his mind flashed of Saint Teargan, the patron of soldiers. He asked Teargan for his help this night. Another flash brought Saing Emoilin, an elven saint, and patron to other elves in need. He had been a blade dancer, and a Oneian, his great works throughout Feldare were still legend. Harlen asked him to help, too. Perhaps between the two of them, there would be the power needed this night to stop the enemy.

Harlen felt Hyandai's cool hand on his neck, and could almost feel her trying to pray, as well. He reached back and touched the slender fingers.

There was odd movement out in the darkness, and he stood as he dug out his spyglass. Waving it over the dark masses of troops out there, he finally found the source. It was the final regiment, moving into place aside the others. They moved swiftly, and silently, forming up into four ranks fifty men wide.