Captured by the Elves Ch. 13

He said, "Unfortunate business that was. Waste of a good doctor. He was going to be leaving us either way though so there was no avoiding it."

He walked over to me. "Were you trying to leave us, lovely? That's not polite, is it?"

Katania surged forward and tried to strike him, but she was subdued by a group of men and beaten down into the mud.

"This is not helping you," said Curly Jack. "Why do people do stupid things? Back home, I'd leave bloody bodies in alleys all the time. I thought that it was just people being dumb in the city. Out here, in the real world I expected people to be smarter."

He yanked Katania up out of the mud, and stuck his dagger up against her slender throat. To me, he said, "What do you do you think, cutie? Give stupid a chance to live or cast it away like a waste of skin?"

"Please, let her live," I said. "You've won. We're not going anywhere."

"You're a clever girl," said Curly Jack. "Keep it friendly and people will leave you alone, right?"

"You're in charge," I said, hoping that he would let Katania go.

"It's sad. I like you, cutie. Going to be shame to lose you."

"What will happen will happen."

He nodded. "Ain't that the truth." He pulled the dagger away from Katania's throat. "Good girl." He looked to his men. "Take the elves and the old man back to the cage."

One of the men asked about the men that had been hired by Clive.

Curly Jack said, "No use for them. Have at you, lads."

He laughed and walked away as the men hired by Clive were slaughtered to the last man. Their bodies were looted, stripped, and left in the mud with Clive. Katania, Lord Collins, and I were taken back to the cage. There would be no escape for us.

The next day brought my doom.

The humans had cleared an area in the center of their camp. So much had been raked and shoveled away. Rotten food, discarded clothing, burnt pieces of wood, and sadly there were some bodies or pieces of bodies amongst the detritus. These combined with the mud, the puddles of fetid water and urine created a smell that was truly something special. It rivaled the smell of the latrines that we had been near only minutes before. The general stench made me appreciate the constant smell of burning wood. At least the weather was getting cold. In a hot summer it would've been something more intense if that was possible.

Our cage had been dragged from its spot by the latrines by a pair of half-starved mules. I felt bad for the animals knowing that they were not likely to survive the next few days. The three of us had to be careful as the cage was dragged. We had to stay up on the wooden bars at the base so a foot or hand wasn't dragged beneath and broken.

When we were appropriately situated, Theobald made his entrance in a flurry of priestly robes and holy vestments. The men cheered him as he arrived. He had become their salvation in their desperate situation--so far from home and looking for hope. I knew that I could've easily been one of them if my situation had been different.

Father Theobald knew how to work a crowd and stage a performance. He was dressed immaculately in his holy robes of black with a blood red stole. He allowed the attendants of his little sideshow to gather. The eastern men had been waiting to storm the she-elf settlement. The constant raids from the elves had taken their toll on these men. They were haggard--desperate, but Theobald had done an admirable job in replacing their previous morale with something more useful to him. Our larger culture and religion spanned most of the continent. Some people claimed that our religion had faded over the years to some extent, but nothing generated a revival more than desperate times. I knew this from personal experience.

The gathered men were fully armed and kitted out for battle as well as they were going to be. Few had anything akin to full armor anymore. Judging by from what I'd seen during both my times there, I believed that Lord Collins' original army had truly been a mixed thing as he'd said. I'd never been to the eastern kingdoms, but they were supposed to be similar to our own. That was why we allied ourselves with them against the reviled "Easterlings" whom I'd never met and knew so little of. These men had once been the allies that I was marching towards. Now they gathered about to bear witness to the judgement that Father Theobald had in store for us.

By all the gods, I wanted to laugh as the absurdity of all of it.

Our cage was at last detached from the two mules. Katania was doing her best to look after her father. Lord Collins seemed to be in a better place than he had been before, but he knew what we faced. I'd given him back "Henry" or the person that "Henry" had become, but now what was he facing? To lose her all over again? The gods were cruel. That notion had been around for centuries, but Lord Collins and Katania understood the truth of that all too well.

Father Theobald stood before us. He raised his hands to the heavens and the rabble of men surrounding us gradually fell silent.

"Behold," he said. "These are the results of this terrible, ungodly affliction: two of these twisted beings and a broken, old man. So caught up in his personal obsession and grief that he failed to notice his own corruption."

Many of the men jeered Lord Collins. I wondered if any of his loyal men even remained. A good leader could cultivate deep loyalty in his followers, but these men had experienced so much death and hardship. Not to mention the fact that this predicament hadn't even been part of their actual war. Collins had taken them beyond what their obligation had been.

Theobald continued, "Death and despair have fallen upon this great army. Some of our men have likely fallen victim to this elf-plague. Not counting the prisoner that Lord Collins sacrificed to satisfy his own fetishes. However, I say to you, my loyal and godly men, that we stand on the brink of greatness. We will scour this evil from the land, and then return to our own countries and inform them of our righteous triumph."

The men cheered their new leader. Theobald looked at his followers as they had surrounded him. He basked in this approval and glory. That must have been a rare achievement for a man of the cloth, who would've been groomed to pursue humility and piety.

Theobald said, "We must affirm our faith to the gods. In times of old, vile heretics were made to face the judgment of the divine through the cleansing device of fire. That shall be our tool, my brothers. And I have the appropriate target for our purification." Theobald pointed to Katania. "This is the very creature that drove Lord Collins away from the Gods. Were it not for her then none of this would have happened. Shall we present her to the fire?"

The men surrounding us cheered with such force that it was like a punch in the gut to behold it.

No, I thought. After all that we've been through, this can't be how it ends. I had dedicated myself to saving Katania, and by the goddess, I was not going to be denied.

I called out to Theobald. "Father," I said. "Take me for her. I was the one who converted the prisoner in your camp. I defiled this place." I held up the copper star from between my breasts. "I am the one who bears the copper star of the paladin. If there is an affront to the gods it is I."

"Don't do this," said Katania. "They're going to kill you. I'm not worth that, Kiari."

I gripped her fiercely. "Everything that I did was so that you could live. I'm not going to see you die."

I stood up in the cage--ready to face what Theobald was promoting.

The priest gave me a sidelong glance. He said, "You offer yourself as tribute? Willingly?"

"Yes. If you leave Katania be. Spare her and spare Lord Collins. Then I will face your judgement."

Katania was crying. Pleading with me to take it back. She wanted to face the fire for me. Lord Collins looked puzzled and horrified by the notion.

"Very well," said Father Theobald. "The gods truly are involved in this endeavor. You are helping me prove this to be true." He looked to his supporters. "Brothers, bring wood and oil."

So, it was decided.

In short order, the men had gathered the right amount of wood, and their carpenters even built a stake to tie me to. The parts were all assembled, and those of us that were there would be able to play our roles as people did in the brutal past of our world. It was a strange thing to be a part of, and yet I understood the importance of it.

I would face the wrath of the gods.

Once their device was assembled, the men needed to remove me from the cage. Katania was screaming. The men came to the cage. Moved the scaffold back into position, and then opened it. Katania tried fighting them as they closed the distance to me. They prodded her back with their clubs. When they grabbed onto me, Katania grabbed on as well. Clutching at me with a desperate madness. I told her to let me go. That this would be the best for her. Now, I know that it was a stretch to be taking Father Theobald at his word. Honestly, as soon as they scattered my charred ashes and bones, they could've made another stake to burn her on. I knew this. I was still hopeful about an attack from the she-elves though. So much attention was being given to this event. So much noise and so much spectacle. It was an opportunity for Teagan and Landa.

The men repeatedly punched Katania in the face to get her to let go of me. She fell back into the cage and Lord Collins managed to catch her. Then I was out of the cage and into the free air, but that freedom was soon to end in fire. This was my choice. There was no pretending that I had been safe before, but I had made a bargain with a mad man and was doomed to suffer for it. Even amid the fear that I was facing, I could still hear my parents chiding me. It was a poor bargain and I should've known that. A good merchant would never let himself be caught in such a situation. He would find a way to be safe and be the seller of the wood and oil. Gods, I could hear my parents' voices saying it.

The men brought me out to where the stake and the pyre had been set up.

Theobald pointed at me. "Now, behold the awful wrath of the gods. This creature has flaunted her sin for so long. She has caused so much harm and damage. Death. That is what these creatures are."

"You're going to be disappointed," I said. "I don't remember killing anyone out here. I offered you the chance to just leave. All of you men can just walk away. Go back east. Go home. Nobody else needs to die. But this is what you want. There will be nothing righteous about this. You're just going to hear a woman screaming and watch as she burns."

I hoped that some mysterious bravery would flash itself into my blood. That I would have the courage to go out like some martyr out of the holy scriptures. Yet such conviction evaded me. My feet became heavy suddenly, and I wasn't going as willingly to the stake as I might have hoped.

Theobald noticed my sudden fear. He said, "There it is. The realization. I don't believe that you are the first would-be-martyr to see the terrible truth of judgment. Will you condemn the other elf in your place? A good plea will receive mercy."

I swallowed. Afraid, yet resolute now. I shook my head. "This is supposed to happen," I said. "I can't turn back now."

Theobald gave me a curious look then. He was perplexed by my statement, and perhaps, for a moment, there was some trace of concern on his face. However, Theobald had committed himself to this series of events. Our two lives had come together in this struggle. It was dangerous and something was going to happen.

I was bound to the stake and left there. More wood and kindling were gathered and built up around me. They even poured a pot of precious oil around me. I hadn't smelled such a thing for a long time. It was pungent and burned my nostrils.

Theobald was handed a torch by one of his men. The priest walked over to my place atop the pyre. He said, "Now, we shall see the price of insulting the gods. If this creature would be innocent then the flames shall not destroy her flesh."

Theobald set fire to the kindling surrounding the stake. The kindling began to smolder--taking its time to catch fire. I didn't feel any heat then. Only gagged and coughed as the smoke rose to choke me. Even though I had gone willingly, I still struggled against the bonds of the stake. Unable to escape the reality of myself being bound to it. This was my death, and I knew it to be true. There would he nothing left of me but ash and bone. Hopes and dreams meant nothing to fire. There was only the smoke rising around me.

Theobald began singing a hymn to the gods as the fire grew. I took what deep breaths that I could being surrounded by the smoke. I tried to steady myself to find some sort of center to rely on. Being burned at the stake wasn't something to be shrugged off lightly.

The flames began to rise. Coming unto me like petitioners seeking salvation. The heat arrived then. I felt it licking at my face--threatening to consume me. It took a while for the pain to register and when it did it was something profound. I felt it all. A pressure. Theobald's men cheered as it happened. I cried out. There was an odd change in the air that hurt my ears. It rose like as storm.

I looked to the cage--knowing what I would see, but I couldn't help it. Katania was screaming--trying desperately to break out of the wooden cage like an animal. Lord Collins tried to hold her and offer what comfort he could, but she was going mad at the sight that was being made of me.

The pain did something strange then. I expected to be feeling it all over, but it was only in one spot. I looked down between my breasts to see the copper star glowing white hot against my skin. It was somehow sustaining me, but while my flesh wasn't being roasted or charred, I felt the heat. The pain.

I screamed.

I shook.

I was babbling incoherently--trying to form some appeal to the gods: Angelanhala or any higher power that could make the pain go away. This was the whole of my existence. The pain rose to a crescendo and then as it crested its mountain, I went somewhere else. My vision failed me and for a moment there was nothing but darkness. When my vision returned, I could see myself writhing on the stake within the flames of the pyre. I was no longer in my body. I wanted to scream at this terrifying notion, but I couldn't. the volume of the noise all around me seemed to have declined. I could see the things happening around the pyre so much more clearly. Then I could hear them as though I stood by them.

I expected the men watching my execution to be cheering it on. This was what they wanted and Father Theobald had provided it for them. However, that was not the case. The men looked horrified at what they saw. As if they were not watching a hated enemy burn, but rather someone that they cared about. I watched as they approached Father Theobald with their weapons clenched in white-knuckled hands.

"What have you made us do?" one man demanded of the priest.

Theobald wasn't swayed. He said, "Do no approach me with anger. This...this isn't supposed to be happening. It's a trick."

"We believed you," said another man. "You tempted the gods to offer us a sign. This is what they give us. You were wrong, priest."

"No," yelled Theobald. "I am not in the wrong here. Clearly, this is some elf illusion."

This gave the men pause and they watched and waited to see if it was true. However, that which they saw didn't change. The men reared up on Theobald.

"What will you do now, priest?" said a man.

"This cannot be," said Theobald.

Then he did the unthinkable. Theobald threw all sense and caution to the wing and jumped into the fire to join me. Going out of his way to get into the center of it. His priestly robes took to the fire quite well. I watched from the outside, as he took hold of me within the flames. He believed so intensely that I was fooling him, but he was soon doomed to face the reality that fire, for all of its symbolism, was a very real thing and it didn't agree with the flesh.

Theobald screamed and tried to leave the pyre, but it was too late. After some time, his burned hands fell from mine and he crumpled into a burning heap on my side.

I looked to my left from my astral position outside of the fire, and I saw her: the she-elf who bore such an uncanny resemblance to myself, that I wasn't sure what to think about her.

The she-elf smiled at me. She said, "Are you beginning to understand?"

"No. What's happening to me?"

"There is no escape for us," she said. "We have things to do. That is our fate."

"Our fate?"

"Ours. What we become is something beyond. Embrace it. Embrace us."

I agreed.

She smiled at me. "Good. Now, I must give you back to the pain. I'll be with you though. Always with you."

I took a sudden deep breath and lost it due to the pain on my chest. I was back on the pyre with the flames around me. Father Theobald had been dead for a while then. He was near unrecognizable. I didn't understand how I was still alive, but I was. A sudden commotion broke out in the camp. It was a storm of noise. Cat-calls. The rain of arrows and violence in the distance. The elves had come. A group of them broke into the sudden area. Many of the surrounding men were so startled that they didn't attack. Raina and Ericka were among this group of elves. While Raina kept the men back with her spear, Ericka tried to knock me off the pyre with a piece of wood.

Around us, the humans broke under the sudden attack--scattering in all directions. Some did choose to fight, but they proved little match for the might that the elves brought down on them. All the while Ericka struggled to get me from the fire. Finally, Ericka gave up on doing it the safe way, she leapt on the pyre, seized me, and threw us both from it--we landed in the mud. Its cold moisture was a welcome to me. From the ground, I looked back into the burning mass and saw the crumpled form of Father Theobald. He was disintegrating into ash. No one was pulling him from the flames. Two other elves brought their cloaks and began patting me down as if I was on fire, but to their confusion they quickly realized that there was no fire. Ericka told he girls to give me some space to breathe.

"Are you well?" she asked.

I took her hands in mine and she winced. Ericka's hands and arms had been burned in the fire.

"You're hurt," I said. "We need to get you to Braith."

"What about you, Kiari?"

"I'm..."

I checked myself all over. My torn clothing had burned to ash within the pyre. I felt for the copper star necklace. It was gone. Taken by the heat of the fire. In its place would be an imprint: a scar shaped like the necklace over my neck leading to a star shape burned upon the skin between my breasts. Yet beyond that I was undamaged. Some people who saw it said the star was still glowing. My own thoughts went to Delphi, who had bequeathed it to me. I believed that she had some part in saving me.

"I'm fine," I said. Trying not to think about what happened to me.

"How is that possible?" she asked.

I had no answer for her.

The chaos continued for some time. I noticed something odd. Some of the men had decided to surrender. However, they were not surrendering to the elves. They formed a group and lined up before me. The men went to the knees. Some of the elves scrambled to form a ring of protection around me.

"We would never hurt her," said one of the men. "She was sent by the gods."

This didn't make the elves any more comfortable. They kept the men at bay. Eventually, the she-elf leaders arrived to assess what had come to pass.

Teagan and Dria were covered in blood that was not their own. They must have led the primary attack themselves. I'd later learn that the constant raids had been part of a greater strategy. It was death by a thousand cuts, combined with the fact that they had been taking men here and there. These prisoners had been kept out of the settlement so as not to consume its resources, but they did exist. Once the elf position had been secured, Landa appeared with her inner cohort of chieftains and lieutenants. The tall red-head now carried a finely made sword taken off some rich knight or lordling.