The Solitary Arrow Ch. 20

Harlen nodded. "Tammer, you may want to stay here and watch over the lord and lady." He said.

Tammer looked at him. "Oh, just leave me here to languish." He groused. "But I relish not a climb of many stairs, so go."

The huntsman took off for the stair at a sprint.

Another flare rocketed skyward and flashed into blinding brilliance overhead. Harlen noted how dedicated the firers must be to hold their place to keep those things in the sky.

He began the climb into the Turaorn.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The fog was a bane, Ceriandel decided, turning to find himself alone. He had lost his little contingent of footmen somehow. Blade dancers often lost perception of their surroundings as they fought, but never their foes. He looked about and saw, emerging from the mists, seven enemy footmen, and one blade dancer.

His heart began to race. Blade dancers often got into discussions of relative skill, rarely could they boast having actually crossed blades with another of their own kind. While regretting the necessity of the battle to come, he relished the opportunity.

The footmen would present a problem, though. He leveled his blade and adopted the starting stance for over a dozen possible maneuvers. The other blade dancer did the same, but the spearmen spread out, preparing to attack Ceriandel from many sides.

"You fear to fight me alone?" Ceriandel taunted. "Traitor AND coward, then?"

"As opposed to traitor AND fool." Replied the other blade dancer.

An ear splitting screech came from behind the enemy blade dancer and suddenly two of the seven footmen fell, arrows in their backs. Then another fell, a long spear through his very spine, pinning him to the ground.

As the spearmen turned to face this new threat three shapes came forth from the obscuring mist, swords flashing and hair flying. Two fell instantly to the skilled hands of the woman warriors. The third attempted to back toward his remaining ally, but the smallest of the women brought her left hand around, with a hyandai in it, slitting the elf's neck cleanly.

The Isolationist ehledrim looked about watching the last footman flee into the fog. "Will you now take the advantage of numbers?" He taunted.

Ceriandel looked at the three women, watching them as they panted and watched the two blade dancers face off. "No." He said. "For I still have my honor."

The other blade dancer gave a quick head bow and began his attack. Ceriandel responded with his own maneuver.

The human women watched the deadly and beautiful engagement of the two elves. Shining blades flashed under the harsh, sterile glow of the flare. The blades never stopped their maneuvers, coming around in split heartbeats and meeting again and again. Wendy quickly lost count of the number of blows launched and parried.

Back and forth the two fought, moving about one another. One moment nearly touching as they dodged a blow, another they were at almost three paces apart, only to close again with another resounding clash of steel on steel.

Maegan leaned on her sword. "I put five down on the one in gray." She said, causing Ceriandel to raise an eyebrow of concern.

Tessa laughed. "I'll cover that, the other one is much better looking." She commented. This caused Ceriandel to blush.

Wendy looked at the two of them. "I will shoot the gray one if he wins." She said simply, knocking an arrow into her bow. "Then again, it was not I who promised a fair fight."

Something in the tone of her voice made the Isolationist blade dancer quail. Ceriandel pressed the attack. "What vexes you, blade dancer?" Ceriandel asked. "Do mere humans worry you? Should your victory not be assured if my allies are but human?"

Powerful blow after powerful blow landed upon the gray-cloaked blade dancer's weapon, forcing it aside again and again as he fought to regain the initiative. He had quit bantering with Ceriandel.

An arc of gleaming steel flowed around the two almost like spheres made up of ribbons of shining silver. Ceriandel was pushing the other blade dancer back, though, and soon he was out of room. Ceriandel chuckled. "You are losing, friend." He said. "Surrender and I will spare you."

The other blade dancer flicked his eyes at the human women, and especially at the one with the bow at the ready. Resignation filled his eyes. Though whether it meant resigned to surrender or resigned to die, Ceriandel did not yet know.

Bested by another blade singer, and disgraced by allowing himself to be shown up by mere humans. He took the only option his pride would allow. As Ceriandel aimed another curving blow for his neck, he dropped his defenses.

All three human women flinched as his head fell to the ground. Even Ceriandel felt himself robbed of a victory, in part. He knelt beside this fallen blade dancer. Twice fallen, in Ceriandel's opinion.

"May the spirits forgive you." Ceriandel murmured.

He stood up and turned toward the women. "My thanks." He said, noting that the largest of them stood right before him.

It was Tessa. His eyes barely had time to register that she was really quite attractive, in a massive way. Then she grabbed him about the waist and, bending him backwards, kissed him thoroughly and deeply.

A moment, when she stood back upright, lifting him easily with her, she said, "Yes, it's that good." over her shoulder to the other women. Releasing the blade singer to regain his feet under him.

Ceriandel just blinked while Maegan walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "You're not plaited or married are you?" She asked, conversationally.

He shook his head negatively, just now starting to reanimate his body.

"Good." Maegan said, her eyes flashing. "Then I'll try the other traits you elves seem to possess later." With that, she kissed him gently on the forehead.

He looked over toward the smaller woman, fearing she too would desire to extract some unspoken reward from him. She simply smiled at him.

"You're cute." She said, and turned toward where the other two were heading northward.

He slowly followed the trio, not wanting to be alone. Admittedly, he did not mind the view from behind the three women, as well. "Perhaps Hyandai knows something I do not." He murmured to himself.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The cadre protecting Lord Ircandann and Lady Melewen had grown to twenty-five men now, and a dozen elves, loyal to the village. The sounds of fighting were now lessened, and it seemed that the sky was lightening in the east.

Also, the fog was breaking. Strong winds were blowing now, from the north, cold, but cleaning the air of the unwanted mists. Tammer regarded the area around him as his view extended by the second.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Harlen found Hyandai in her chamber, standing over the body of the lord's aide, Centhan. The fake Ehladrel was lying upon her cot. She was weeping and her shoulders sagged.

"I cannot do it any more, Harlen." She said. "The fight is over for me."

The huntsman put his hands on her shoulders. "It's okay, beloved, I think the worst of it is over."

He picked up the false Hyandai and took the real one from her numb fingers. He slipped the two into the loose sheath that he had crafted earlier. Apparently, Hyandai had lost the tailored one he had more recently made.

Harlen put an arm about her slim waist and guided her from the room, slipping the pouch over his shoulder. The two of them watched as the fog below was being driven before the wind. The main bulk of the battle was obviously over. Down below, there were hundreds of bodies strewn about the field outside the battered palisades and inside the village itself.

Hyandai shook her head and walked over the catwalk to the command chamber. This would make the obvious place to organize the aftermath of the fight. As they came to the chamber door, Harlen saw the form of an elf within, holding a hyandai. It was Ranalath. He looked at the two of them.

"Wretched slut!" Ranalath screamed as he lunged toward them. Harlen drew his sword and pushed Hyandai out of the doorway.

The hyandai cut Harlen's arm as the elf swung at him. But the former aide was already backing away, his eyes fearful.

"That was foolish." Harlen said, advancing slowly. "You only get one shot, you know?"

The elf aimed another attack at Harlen, but barely moved a single pace as Harlen brought the heavy broadsword around and sliced him deeply across the chest, caving the ribs in. Ranalath was dead before he struck the floor.

Harlen turned about to find Hyandai and saw her. She was being held about the neck by Cendiolor, and a dagger was pressed to her neck.

"Come closer, human, and your little whore dies." The former captain said.

Harlen's shoulders slumped.

Cendiolor grinned broadly. "You can save her, you know?" He said. "I see you have the Ehladrel on your shoulder there."

Harlen looked at him. "As if I should give it to you." He said.

The dagger twitched and Hyandai squeaked in pain as blood flowed over the blade.

"Okay, okay!" Harlen exclaimed. "You'll let her go?"

"Of course." Cendiolor said.

Harlen reached into the pouch and gripped the wooden Ehladrel. He sat it upon the table, where the glowing map overlay it with odd reflections.

Cendiolor chuckled. "Very good for a trained ape." He said. Now move around and toss your sword out the door and off the platform.

Harlen moved about, Cendiolor echoing his movements opposite him, keeping the large table between them.

The sword bounced off the handrail then tumbled into space, falling.

"You humans really are idiots." Cendiolor said. Reaching for the Ehladrel, and letting Hyandai's arm go.

Hyandai moved like lightning, ducking under his arm and jumping away. Cendiolor chuckled and gripped the handle. "Now you both die." He said, lifting the weapon and swinging it at Hyandai. It struck her chest.

It shattered into dozens of pieces of painted hardwood. The look of shock upon Cendiolor's face would have been classically funny were it not such a grim situation. Even as it was, Harlen could not resist but to grin slightly as he drew out the real Ehladrel and leaped up onto the table.

The elven captain watched the enraged human approach with a certain detached fascination. He made a half-hearted grab for his warsword, but it never cleared the scabbard. Blood splattered the wall behind him and the ceiling over where his head used to be as Harlen brought the Ehladrel around in a lethal, tight curve that would have made any blade dancer proud. The wall behind where Cendiolor had stood bore testament to the force used to decapitate the traitorous captain. A deep rent scored it for two feet, piercing through the thick wooden planks to the outside air in the center.

Harlen landed upon the floor panting and cocking back the long blade for another swipe at the dead elf.

"Harlen, no." Hyandai said quietly. "He is gone now. May the spirits correct his ways."

It took a moment for Harlen to realize Hyandai was speaking. He looked up at Hyandai with hostile eyes, not for her, but for what he had been forced to do.

"How is it that elves, whom I have always fantasized about, can cause me to be so violent?" Harlen asked.

Hyandai smiled gently, pulling the Ehladrel from his grip. "Because we are people, just like humans are. We are not perfect beings, Harlen, though I think you humans wish us to be."

Sitting upon the table, Harlen nodded. "We do." He admitted. "It's why we call you angels. We want badly for something out there not so base as us."

An aide came running into the room. "Lady Hyandai." He said. "The traitors have left the village, we are victorious." His face was splattered with blood as well, and he had several small wounds.

Hyandai nodded. "Go clean yourself and tend those wounds, Lennat." She said. "We are done with battle for now, let us restore order."

The aide nodded and left the chamber. Hyandai stroked Harlen's hair as he looked down at the corpses of Cendiolor and Ranalath.

A few minutes later, Tammer came in, winded but hale and hearty. "Well lad." He said, "It seems we've won."

He sat next to Harlen on the edge of the table. "We lost sixty two." Tammer said. "They'll be missed sorely."

Hyandai's eyes began shedding tears. "So many." She said.

Tammer nodded. "The elven folk are still counting and finding who is whom." He said. "It's confused by the fact that some of the traitors shed their cloaks toward the end to escape, and even put a few on dead villagers."

Hyandai shook her head. "We thank you, Tammer, for helping us." She said quietly. "There is no way we can repay you for what you have done."

With a shrug, Tammer summed it up. "We did it for you." He said.

She looked up at him with wide green eyes. "Me?" She said, her voice cracking. "Why me?"

Tammer grinned foolishly. "You made a lot of friends in Morrovale in your short stay, Hyandai." Tammer said. "You also had one hell of a propagandist." He added.

Trevir came running in, also grinning. "Harlen, we did it!" He exclaimed, running up to the knot of people. "They said the bad guys are running for the hills."

Harlen tousled his hair. "Yes, Trevir, good job." He said. "Where are the other apprentices?"

"They're all over the place, helping clean up and stuff." Trevir said. "I was told to seek you out and tell you to come down to the throne chamber."

A moment passed as Harlen looked at the lad's florid face. There was nothing for it, though; youth were excited by all novelty. Trying to dampen his high spirits after this fight would be pointless, and maybe hurtful.

"We will be down shortly." Harlen said. "Go aid in the cleanup, please."

"Yes, Master Harlen." Trevir said, and ran back out.

The three stood and departed the command chamber and found their way down the many ramps and stairs to the base of the Turaorn. Harlen looked over the morning lit field.

"By the One." He said quietly as he watched people carrying linen sacks past him with bodies inside. "It is bitterly won, is it not?" He asked Tammer.

"Most wars are, son." Tammer said, patting Harlen's shoulder. Hyandai put her arm around Harlen's waist and walked beside him to the pavilion where the throne chamber lay.

"Interesting part of elven warfare." Tammer said as they entered the pavilion. "If you're not slain outright, you can almost always count on a quick recovery."

Harlen nodded. "That's better than we boast." He said. "No walking wounded, it is somewhat an improvement, I suppose."

Lord Ircandann and Lady Melewen sat upon their thrones again. The lord sported fresh clothes. They were both surrounded by a phalanx of elven footmen and a dozen huntsmen, as well.

Harlen looked at one of the huntsmen. "Why are you still here?" He asked. "I am certain that you are free to stand down."

The burly huntsman, named Chenitt, looked at him. "The Warleader has not released us." He said, looking at Hyandai.

Hyandai smiled. "You may stand down." She said happily. "Your service to Embalis has been a credit to yourselves, your land, and your race."

The huntsmen bowed toward her then toward the seated nobles, then withdrew to the edge of the chamber, where another large knot of troops awaited.

Ircandann rose from his seat. "You have done well Warleader." He said. "Are you ready for your duty to be lifted?"

She smiled broadly. "More than you know, Lord Ircandann." She replied with a sigh.

He touched her shoulder. "Then it is done. Lady Hyandai of Clan Yavanhaur, you are hereby relieved of the duties of Warleader, and permitted to take up your old profession and liberties." He said formally.

Hyandai gave a low bow and regained her feet. "I take my leave then, lord, for I wish to find my family." She said. "I have not seen my brother, father, or sister since before the battle."

The lord gave her a quick head bow and Hyandai turned about smartly and walked away from the thrones. Harlen gave a quick bow of his own and chased after her to the nobles' smiles.

She cornered a couple of the aides, and after explaining her demotion back to normal citizen she asked about her family. One of them pointed toward the gates in the palisade.

The couple walked across the once verdant lawn of the village, now churned with dirt and blood and signs of combat. They walked through the gate and witnessed the carnage that had been wrought most there. Over three hundreds of the traitor army lay dead in the field just outside the gates, where the hammer had smashed them against the anvil. The archers who had been on the right flank lay in disarray about that portion of the field.

Hyandai began to cry anew. "The Spirits did not smile this day." She said. She looked over the wide patch of corpses and saw her family there, among the corpses of the fallen. They had a wagon from the village's stables.

As Harlen and Hyandai approached, they saw that they were picking the human corpses out of the mass of dead. Hyandai's father and brother were loading the fallen and Loskenhaur sewing them into linen wrappings quickly on the tailgate of the wagon.

A look of concern crossed Hyandai's face. "Did we learn nothing?" She asked as she approached them, causing the three to look at her. "We separate out the humans from even our dead?"

Her upset was quite evident and her color was deepening toward red.

Hyandai's father smiled. "But we do not." He said. "We seek to give ceremony to the humans along with our own dead, but not with these traitors. They died as heroes of Embalis."

Ceriandel smiled at her. "You think we would dishonor them with being burned in the same pyre as these vagabonds?" He asked.

Hyandai blushed a deep crimson. "I apologize." She said. "I did not think through my words."

Loskenhaur, whom Harlen had yet to meet, smiled a lovely, bright smile. "It matters little, sister. Your concern for them does you credit." She looked up at Harlen. "You must be my sister's handsome betrothed." She said. Loskenhaur was beautiful in the typically elven way, which made her rather too beautiful for Harlen's tastes, or too perfect.

"Yes, and you are Loskenhaur." Harlen said. "Tammer spoke much of you."

She graced him with another smile of unsurpassed beauty. "I heard he is here, I shall have to find him and find out if his kissing talents have lessened over the years." Loskenhaur said, playfully.

For the next hour, Harlen and Hyandai helped load up the wagon with the bodies of the fallen Rangers of Morrovale. When they had finished, Hyandai's father led the two back toward the gate.

"You two go, get out of that wargear and be at rest." He said. "You have pressed yourself sorely, Hyandai. Now you can relax."

Ceriandel called over toward them. "If you see Maegan or Tessa, tell them where I live, hmm?" He said toward Hyandai.

Hyandai gave him a shocked look, but with a wide smile. "Of course." She said. "Should I tell them what you like girls to wear?"

The blade dancer thought a moment. "They can come nude if they like." He said. "I am not particular." This last earned him a sharp jab to the ribs by Loskenhaur, who laughed at him.

Climbing back up the tree toward her chamber Harlen spied Trevir coming back down again.

"What passes, boy?" Harlen asked.

Trevir smiled brightly. "I'm running messages for the lord and lady." He said. "Lady Melewen said I was cute!" He added excitedly. "She's almost as pretty as you, Miss Hyandai."

They watched as Trevir disappeared around the spiraling stairs downward. She then took Harlen's hand and led him upward. They passed by her chamber. "I thought . . .." Harlen said.

"You wish to wear the grime of battle?" She said. "Come with me." She led him around the wide platform to another door into the building that stood upon it. They walked a long passage that seemed too deep, then he realized they were inside the very trunk of the massive tree.