The Solitary Arrow Ch. 07

"I do as well, Gramma." Said Hyandai, her thoughts half a world away.

The older lady opened the door and said. "Harlen, I believe your lady friend is tiring of my old chatter, you two might be thinking of going home. I've plans, anyway."

Hyandai marveled at this, he had just done backbreaking work for an hour and was sweating profusely, but he smiled widely and ran to his gramma to give her a sweaty hug. "Very well, then, Gramma, I will see you next week then, though I doubt I will have a gift quite so grand to present to you."

Gramma judiciously avoided the scars on his back and hugged him, and handed him his shirt. "Your smiles are gift enough for an old woman, grandson of mine." She said.

Harlen took Hyandai's hand and walked around the house back to the small front lawn. She was quiet as they walked home noticeably so. "Is something wrong, my love?" He asked.

Tears started rolling from her eyes but she kept her face placid. "We will speak when we get to your home." She said, forcing back a sob. She wanted to fall into his arms and be comforted, but had to wait, such news needed no hearers.

They finally arrived at the house, and letting themselves in, Hyandai called out. "Trevir, are you here?"

The boy appeared a moment later, smiling. "Yes, Miss Hyandai?" He asked, all but bowing to her. This deference caused Harlen to blink a few times, but he kept his mouth still.

"I need you to go home for tonight, young Trevir." Hyandai said bluntly. "Harlen and I have matters to discuss and wish privacy."

The lad looked a little hurt, but nodded and left quietly.

"What was that about?" The hunter asked as he closed the door quietly.

Hyandai collapsed into tears, and fell onto his chest. He put his arms about her and held her, and murmured to her, but not knowing the problem, could say little of meaning.

She finally stopped bawling long enough to look at him and say. "I bear a child." She said, and dissolved into more crying.

Harlen stopped a moment then his mind fully registered. "No." He said. "You...oh by the One." He said, and wept with her. "It's not fair." He said.

She sniffed and looked at him. "No, but it is so." She said. "The night-orb does not lie." She straightened up. "Which leaves me with no option but to go home, and soonest as maybe." She hardened her face. "I must have this, this THING torn from me, and I only know of elven arts that can do thus safely."

Harlen nodded. "Or a Sorceress." he said.

She turned and regarded him. "A Sorceress, here?" She asked.

"About a half day walk toward Norboro." He said. "She keeps to herself, but has been known to do favors for pay."

Hyandai nodded. "Sorceresses learned their arts from elves, they would know the way." She said, some hope gleaming in her golden eyes.

"So I've heard." Said Harlen. "But they charge dearly."

She looked down. "I have little to give." She said. "So, again, to home my path leads me."

"I have money." Harlen said. "And would gladly give of it for your benefit."

She shook her head. "The price may be high indeed." She said.

"I have it, or I deem I do, lest the price be outrageous." He said, and walked into his workroom. A few moments later he came out with a small chest, about a foot wide, built with heavy bands of iron around wooden boards. He opened it, and within were silver and even gold coins.

"How?" She said. "You are a hunter."

He smiled widely. "I am a very good hunter." He said. "I do not shy always from more dangerous beasts, and the bounty for the more dangerous ones can be high indeed." He closed the chest.

"I see." She said, somewhat stunned. Elves, in general, are not creatures of avarice, but they do know when something of value is showed them, and that was a lot of silver and not a small amount of gold.

"We leave on the morrow, then." He said, nodding.

She looked at him and cried again. "What is it now, my love?" He asked, almost perturbed.

"I cannot lie with you this night, Harlen, save as we have already." She said. "I would not have your seed fall in a unholy womb, cursed with a foul spawn." She said vehemently.

She still blamed herself, and hated herself for it, thought Harlen, but he simply held her and said. "I will wait till the end of my days, if you ask it of me, Hyandai. I only wish to be with you, not necessarily in you." He smiled. She giggled at that, as well.

"It seems the world wishes us to never consummate our feelings, my love." She sniffed. "It keeps putting obstacles in our path, and thwarts us every turn."

"Perhaps it is so." Harlen said. "But perhaps it is simply bad luck. Such does happen." He smiled and kissed her forehead. "I will, as always, be honored to hold you this night, and not expect anything of it but perhaps a kiss on the morn."

She grinned. "A kiss you shall have." She said. "And no few tonight, as well." She added, and kissed him soundly, and with passion, and for a long while.

They laid down and slept later, after making their lips sore with kisses. But it was wounds they wore happily.

---

The next morn, Hyandai awoke early, for her mind was unsettled. The doom she had felt was now roosting on her and she thought she could feel the unholy broodling in her belly. It burned her, or so she perceived. She looked down, and Harlen's absence was clear. She looked back and he was lying, facing away from her. "No more do I need." She said, slipping form the covers. "A damned host for foul offspring. I would seek to not hold me, either." She quickly dressed and went out of the room, her face sour with ill feelings.

Harlen slept on, oblivious to his misdeed. She padded down the stairs and caught sight of young Trevir, stacking wood by the oven in the kitchen. She padded in, startling him, and causing him to stammer. "G...good morrow, Miss Hyandai." He said.

She brushed his arm in passing with her hair, and took some fruit from the bowl. She sat on the high stool, and looked at him. "Do you find me comely?" She asked.

"Well...of course, Miss Hyandai." He said. "You're the prettiest lady I've ever seen."

She nodded, smiling sweetly. Trevir thought there was something not quite right about her smile, but he could not place it. "Were I not Harlen's woman, and you were an older lad, Trevir, would you desire me?" She asked, sounding a bit too innocent.

He thought a moment. "Well, yes, I suppose I would." He said. "I mean, I desire you now, but know I cannot even think of having you, but that does not make the want go away."

She looked at him. "You are wise beyond your years, Trevir." She said. "...Knowing that you cannot have does not lessen the want."

Harlen came in as Trevir left the room with a bemused look on his young face. The huntsman was stretching and scratching his ribs. "Good morrow, beloved." He said, smiling. The smile evaporated, however, as he saw the rather haunted look in her eyes. "What bothers you, Hyandai? You seem deep in worry."

She looked at him a brief moment, then said. "We elves are fey folk. You ever wonder at that? Most other fey are creatures of element and spirit, yet we are natural and physical?" Said Hyandai. Harlen had never thought of it, but then again, he wasn't an elf. She did not wait for an answer, her eyes watching him closely. "Well, within us is such a creature, every one of us has one inside, a small creature of a basic element, or emotion, or idea, or what have you." She rambled for a moment. "We keep them in check with our will. When that will is gone, we will no longer contain our spirits or whatever you would like to call them. And they will take over our lives and all will have been for naught."

Harlen thought for a moment. "All elves have one of these fey spirits in them?"

Hyandai nodded. "Yes. We all have them. Some good, some bad, most are not concerned for good or bad, just their idea or element."

"And yours?" He asked. "What sort is yours?"

"Mine, if you could not tell, is lust." She said, laughing sourly. "The irony, hmm?" She further castigated herself.

Harlen looked at her intently. "What brought this about?" He asked.

"I think finding that I have received this spawn to my belly has come as a final blow to me, or nearly so." She said. "We should go and have it removed from me, before it can cause me to break completely." Then she stood up, slowly and looked about. "I must apologize to Trevir, I sorely tested his patience this morning."

"He will understand." Harlen said. "We should move quickly then. To the Sorceress?"

She nodded slowly and her face did not register the relief that Harlen thought should be there. "I am afraid the cure will be as bad as the curse." She said.

They quickly packed up and got dressed, and left the house. Harlen told Trevir to expect them just after sunset. And they were gone. Leaving the poor lad with many thoughts he did not want.

The road to Norboro was well used and hardened with many wheels over years. Travel was quick and without problem. A few times they had to step out of the way for a wagon going one way or the other, but the road had no sharp turns so there were no surprises. As the wagons trundled past, the drivers, and passengers, if any, would stare at Hyandai and some would wave. Her spirits rose as no other bouts of fey hit her, and she waved back, and smiled prettily, though she really did not feel the mood. She was long practiced at such facades and they were fairly easy to construct and harmless.

As they neared the cut-off to the Sorceress' home, Harlen said. "I don't know much about these Sorceresses, so I will let you do the talking, if you don't mind."

She nodded, looking ahead and seeing what might be a small house near a copse of trees. As they neared it, the house resolved into being part of the trees, among them, and intertwined with them. It was very elven, but subtly twisted away from elven. A dark feeling came from the home, and she shivered with cold she did not feel.

Harlen said. "You feel it too, then?"

Hyandai nodded. "Yes. It is not right. Sorceresses are odd creatures, and I dread actually meeting one."

They walked to the front gate enclosing a small yard. The gate was open, and the grasses of the yard high and thick. A large wolf sat on the porch, growling at them with glistening fangs. It's eyes were the color of night, and its fur the dun gray of old abandoned ships on the coast.

Soon, though a pretty voice rang out. "Who calls?" It said, through the door.

"Hyandai of Clan Yavanaur, and Harlen of Morrovale." Hyandai said, formally. "We seek audience to parley for services of your arts."

The door opened and the wolf ran off around the house. "Come." The voice said, it was pretty, but very cold. Beyond the door lay inky darkness.

They walked into the house, and the door closed behind them, sealing off the light. They were pitched into the blackness, and they both felt a stir of something moving nearby. Her hand sought out his and he held it tightly.

A dimness emerged in the black wall before them, then it grew into a candle light. A woman was holding a candle, indeed, and the candleholder. She was slight of build, petite, but well formed, with firm-looking breasts and long legs. Her hair was straight as arrow shafts and silky, and flowed like black water over her shoulders and down her back. Her face was elfin fair, slim and narrow, with large black eyes that glittered in the candlelight. She was beautiful. Harlen looked at Hyandai's pretty face, and thought there would be no comparison, until he looked at the dark woman before him. She was lovelier, by far, than even gracious Hyandai. Her beauty was transcendent and immeasurable. When she took step forward, she moved with a grace that made him watch each motion as if it were the only thing moving on the world.

"She's lovely." He said in a whisper to Hyandai.

His elven lady nodded and said. "She is, is she not."

"I am Sorcha, I am whom you seek." Each word she spoke carried a lingering echo, and rebounded around Harlen's head like a rubber ball in a closed room. She looked the two up and down.

"I am Hyandai." She said, looking at the Sorceress with wary eyes.

Harlen said. "And I am Harlen." he said, smiling at her. She smiled back, giving him a view of her face that made his heart miss a beat.

"And what would you ask of me?" She said, almost negligently as she gazed over Harlen again.

Hyandai swallowed, then said. "I have an unwanted child growing within." Tears again flowed down her cheeks.

Sorcha turned to Harlen. "The offspring of this fine specimen, no doubt?" She said, getting very close to the hunter. She smelled of cinnamon, just like Hyandai.

Hyandai coughed, then said. "No. Were it his child I would gladly keep it." She said, an edge of hostility in her voice. "And I wish that I could even say it may be his."

"Ah." The Sorceress said. "Say no more, there are tales enough that lead to this place, that I have already heard, yours would not be unique, nor interesting." She said dismissively. She turned again to the large human man. "Your tale, though would interest me greatly. Why would a man seek to help a woman with another man's seed already germinating in her belly?" She looked back at Hyandai askance. "Could you not find a woman not so recently used by another?"

Harlen clenched his fists and looked at the Sorceress. "It isn't like that. She was raped, and she got pregnant from it." He said through gritted teeth.

Sorcha fluttered her hand before her chest. "Oh, then I apologize, for she is above reproach then, especially if she was raped." She turned back to Hyandai. "Did you do folly that led to your rape?"

Hyandai nodded. "Yes, we returned to where we knew orcs were nearby just to check on a friend's condition."

The witch nodded. "But you knew he was dead, didn't you." She said, smiling all to gleefully. "You knew well."

The elf sighed. "Yes, I knew." looking at the floor.

"Tell him how you knew, knew so well." She said, now picking viciously. "He deserves the truth from you if he is willing to accept damaged goods over it."

She looked at Harlen, her eyes full of fear and apology. "I knew because his plait fell from my hair." She said, crying. "It fell from my hair before ever I met you Harlen." She sobbed. "I knew he was dead within minutes of my fleeing. When an elf plaits troth, they plait it truly, giving each other a swatch of their hair, and wearing it as their own. The ritual binds it to you." She cried harder. "Unless the other dies or stops caring."

Harlen looked at her. "You knew he was dead, yet we went back for him?" He gaped. "Why?"

She shook her head. "I had to know, I had to know it was his death that caused it to fall from me, not Eleean's giving up on me."

The Sorceress laughed coldly. "You see, young handsome Harlen, she cared more for Eleean than she said, I am sure, she was willing to risk your life just to know for sure he didn't quit liking her." She wiped a mock tear from her eye. "To feed her little vanity, so insecure as this homely elf waif is."

Harlen said. "Stop it." His voice raised in some anger. "Stop calling her names and leave her be." He shook his head. "I accepted the risk and didn't ask the reason, so I am not angered at her for that."

The witch nodded. "Okay, I see you don't want her hurt, that is admirable." She looked at the two of them a long moment. "I will do this thing you ask, but my price will be high."

The hunter said. "I have some silver and a little gold."

She said. "I know of your hidden wealth, Harlen of Morrovale." She said, laughing. "My powers have shown me what I need to see. I have the full sight of the elder race." She looked at Hyandai. "But that you did. Things would be different, yes?"

"Yes." The elf muttered. "Very much so." The look she gave the Sorceress was one of molten hate, and rage, and if it had carried weight, would have crushed the other woman into the ground.

The Sorceress smiled. "I name my price then. You Harlen, will come to my bed tonight, and we will take pleasure in each other's arms, while your little waif here is passing her ill-gotten offspring from her womb." She saw the horror on Harlen's face. "It is not open to negotiation." She said.

Harlen's mouth moved like a fish out of water for a moment, then he shut it.

"I will let you two speak alone for a bit." She said and left the candle and walked off into the darkness.

Harlen looked at Hyandai. "The price seems too high to me." He said.

She looked back at him, but did not meet his eyes. "It does not to me." She said. "You are not the one carrying an orc child in your belly." She shook her head. "Bed the witch, then come back to me." She smiled. "I know where your heart lies."

Harlen relented. "Very well." He said, frowning. "But it angers me to have to do so."

A voice in the darkness said. "Then ravish me with that anger, and let her heart do the lying." The witch reappeared and walked back to them. "Your pardon, but I couldn't stop listening, the little dramas in life are just too delicious to pass hearing." The witch said, with unconvincing sheepishness.

"Well, if you've not heard, we agree to your terms." Harlen said.

She cooed. "Oh, I've heard, very well." She turned to Hyandai. "Go wait over there, I know you can see the door."

Without a word or even looking back, Hyandai walked to the door and Harlen heard it slam. "Now, you, my stallion." The Sorceress said. "We will have a splendid night, don't fear." She reached out a delicate hand and caressed his face. He felt little sparks from those fingertips, and despite himself, he moved to strengthen the contact. "Not yet, Harlen." She said. "Soon enough you will know the bliss of my womanhood, and you may well forget that scrawny waif of an elf."

Harlen did not want to enrage the Sorceress any more than the anger she already seemed to possess, so he held his tongue. She picked up the candle, and they started walking toward another direction, and soon came to a black wooden door. She opened it and he found himself in a huge marble-walled room with a massive, soft-looking bed, a bathing pond, and a small waterfall. She sat him upon the bed and bade him drink from the salver she set before him on a small table.

He watched her leave and stood up. "What is she doing to my love?" He asked the air. The trickle of the water was soothing to the nerves, but Harlen did not want to be soothed, and the moist warm air made him lethargic, but he did not want to be lazy. He walked across the floor, then back. He picked up the bottle from the salver, it had a green fluid in it. He uncorked it and sniffed. Absinthe, he scented. It was brewed in the Eastern Realms, and was very expensive in the Western Realms, where the duchy was.

Hyandai found herself in a small room that looked remarkably like a public bath, had she ever seen one in a Ghantian city. The walls were tiled and slick, and there were rusty chains hanging from various hooks and loops on the walls and ceilings. A pair of iron manacles hung over an open pit in the center. There was blood and other unmentionable fluids dried about the edge of the hole. The hole was full of small pointed rods of metal that pointed inward and downward. What went down never came back up, she thought. The door was plated in steel, and very smooth, but still stained with old blood and other fluids that she did not even recognize.

Then there was the table. On the table were four manacles, and it was oversized, large enough for a human woman to be chained down spread eagle, she knew this because there was a rough outline in paint on the table, showing where the body would lie. From between the outspread legs, a trough ran, and the trough was covered in filth most foul. She felt herself retch as she got close enough to look at it. Semi-solid chunks of meats and flesh were pasted to the side by various tacky fluids. Hyandai gasped and covered her mouth. This foul chamber had ended the lives of many children, both foul and fair, and Sorcha cared not which.