Of Dark Elves And Dragons Read online

  He didn’t know why or how, but he could suddenly feel the tightness of chains around his arms and legs pulling at him, dragging him away from his home and his comfortable life, though he didn’t know where or when, and he knew that that time was fast approaching. Coming too quickly for him.

  Sitting in his comfortable chair, sipping his tea and enjoying the last of the afternoon sun, breathing in the aroma of his flower gardens, he knew he didn’t want to go. But he also knew he had no choice. However, until that terrible day arrived, he decided he should try to savour every last moment of pleasure that he could. It might be a long time before he could return.

  If he could return at all.

  ***************

  King Umber was in a bad mood long before the messenger showed up. Somehow when he’d finally done what he’d been intending to do for the last three decades and taken the throne entirely to himself, he hadn’t considered the consequences. He hadn’t quite realised that with the council gone the running of the kingdom would fall to him and that the decisions would have to be his; all of them. Currently he was sitting on his throne, an elaborate construction of polished oak and gold that was raised on a rounded pedestal so that he could look down upon all those of his subjects lined up down the long throne room waiting to petition him. All the while he really only wanted these people to go away. Preferably without their heads.

  The endless whining, the demands for his decisions on hundreds of trivial matters he simply didn’t care about, the flaunting and preening of the nobles and merchants in all their finery; - it was too much for a soldier to endure. But if he was to achieve his dreams, if he was to unite all the southern human lands under his rule, then it was simply something that had to be. Something the Council would never have agreed to. Still he despised these people.

  His fearfully loyal subjects, - it was amazing what the point of a sword could do - knew his thoughts too. No doubt as they lined the great hall and throne room in all their elegant furs and chains they were probably wondering if they could slip a knife between his ribs without his guards knowing, just in case he did the same to them first. Which was why the king had a good dozen heavily armed soldiers serving to both protect him and keep the people at length, not to mention two cannon loaded with shot and guards with torches standing beside them, ready to level the entire audience at the first sign from him. He believed in being prepared and in truth the thought of these worthless people being shredded in front of him appealed. But all his preparations couldn’t protect him from matters of state and the words of foreign diplomats, and the two who had come calling had left a bad taste in his mouth before they left.

  He hated dealing with these upstart emissaries of the House of Sera, though he was just about old enough and smart enough to know he had no choice. No one, well, no one human at any rate, would dare defy the ones they served. No, make that no one mortal.

  But still it was wrong. After all, hadn’t he finally seized power all to himself and declared himself king by his own right? Hadn’t he expunged those endless bureaucrats and the so called Council which had diluted his power! Didn't he now hold the rule of the kingdom in his hands? He did. And so, to have these impudent upstarts simply arrive on his doorstep and stride down the polished oak floor of his throne room as if it was simply a city street and start demanding that he continue to honour the treaties signed long ago - that was just intolerable. Did these weasel worded fools not understand that he was the king?

  Regardless he had played nice with them. He had nodded when he had to, he had pledged what he needed to, and he had done all that he must. And the rage that had threatened to boil over behind his eyes he had contained. Being king it seemed, still meant that he had to maintain some self-control. For now. One day though!

  Still, as the emissaries backed away once their audience had ended, they no doubt believed he fancied, that their precious treaty had been kept and would be honoured. Maybe they even imagined that he had listened thoughtfully to their warnings of dark times ahead; he had after all managed to keep a straight face and nod at the right points in the conversation. But he had also seriously considered setting his assassins on their tail. Perhaps after they had spoken to their queen. Because there was no sense in angering her. That is, if she existed, and some days he had his doubts. Her kind had not been seen in the skies in many years, and were it not for her emissaries, most would have thought them long since departed from this world. And he had such good assassins!

  It was at that point that the messenger arrived, a frightened and harried looking soldier who appeared to have leapt out of the saddle only moments ago, before running madly down his throne room’s aisle, and blurting out his message in front of everyone. And when he did, King Umber knew a fresh surge of anger.

  His huntsmen, a war-band of thirty, had been beaten back without even putting up a fight, and their hounds had been destroyed. Worse still the young prince was now safe, probably among the elves and beyond his reach, and the most potent symbol of his strong right arm which kept the people in line had been sent back in shame. That was unacceptable. But then to be given a warning, to be threatened in his own throne room by a demon spirit! There were no words to describe how that felt.

  As he slammed his iron clad fist down on the arm rest of his throne, driving the spikes deep into the wood, his audience became even more silent and backed away a pace or two, recognising that his rage was blood red, and remembering anew that the cannon were loaded and awaiting only his command to send them all into the afterlife. People would die for this, a lot of people! And top of the list would be one demon spirit of the wild woods.

  “You two!” He bellowed at the emissaries who were still standing at the huge oak double doors waiting to be released from his throne room. The guards hadn’t yet raised their pikes to let them pass, and now that he had called them back, they wouldn’t. So instead of leaving they turned back to face him.

  “What say you of this? Will your masters aid me in this righteous war against the demon?” He knew they wouldn’t - they should if there truly was a demon loose in the wilds, but they wouldn’t. Whether that meant their masters were truly gone as he suspected, or just sleeping and uninterested he didn’t know. But he was never the less certain that they wouldn’t come to his aid.

  The two of them approached him once more, looking for the first time he fancied, somewhat nervous. The House of Sera was untouchable normally, but he was a king and an angry one. It was time that they should learn at least a little respect.

  “Your Highness?” The older of them raised his head as he asked the question, and for the first time the king could see his face from under the hood. He looked surprisingly normal he thought, almost priest like with his devastatingly calm eyes, and strangely innocent. Acolyte Gypson he called himself.

  “There is a demon loose in the woods. It must be killed. Now will your masters aid me in this mission?”

  “Highness, I will speak with my queen on this matter this evening, but my thought is that all is not as it seems.” Bull balls those eyes were deep! You could almost swim in them. The king stared at him and saw only calm; terrible, peaceful, eternal calm in them, and somehow it almost made him want to go to sleep. But anger and indignation stopped him and he shook his head to shake off the effect.

  “Explain.”

  “There is no demon loose in the world. My queen would know if there was. And also the magic that was used, the creation of these stone giants, that is not demon magic.” He seemed to know what he was talking about and Umber needed to know what he could of his enemy. Of course the emissaries would know of such things he realised, for most held that the emissaries of the House were wizards themselves. Maybe, King Umber thought, the man had something useful he could tell him for once instead of just making polite, infuriating demands.

  “Then what was it?”

  “If I am not mistaken they are elementals.”

  “Elementals?”

  “Druidic, elementalist magic, s
ummonings of the essence of elements and substance. It is a rare and powerful gift. Maybe even of the Goddess herself, your Highness.”

  “Then he’s a wizard?”

  “No.” The emissary shook his head slowly, thinking. “If he is a druid then he is far more than that. The magic needed to create these elementals is raw and natural, but also powerful and rare. It is that of the druids of the first kingdom. There has not been seen such a spellcaster in the world in centuries, and the last one I know of was not human. He was a sylph.” That drew a small gasp from the audience. The sylph were not just a magical race, but a frightening one. Though they were hardly ever seen, least of all in human lands, their reputation as warriors of magic was well known. Hearing that even Umber knew he’d have to think twice before he decided on his actions. Bolts and swords against magic, it was never a good fight, and he might have to hire some wizards of his own first.

  “Be warned your Highness, if this spellcaster is indeed a druid of the first kingdom, then you would wish that he were a demon should you choose to do battle with him. A demon is but one.” Be warned? In his own throne room? In front of his court? Did the man know nothing of him? Umber suddenly felt the need to run the man through right where he stood. But somehow the king kept his calm. He needed to hear what the man knew. He might be a mighty warrior, but he wasn’t a stupid one, and he didn’t go into battle unprepared. Least of all against the sylph.

  “And he is not?”

  “It's hard to be sure your Highness. But if such a druid lives then what is certain is that for every army you could raise he could raise three, and his soldiers would not be mere flesh and blood. Some would be stone such as those that returned your men, some fire, some so it is said, steel and lightning. They would not tire, they would not fall. They would not even be wounded. If he is as it would seem a druid of the first kingdom, then your entire kingdom could not stand against him.”

  “Besides, the Haellor Forrest is not part of your kingdom.” There was something in the way that he added the last that made Umber even angrier. But of course he was right. The Haellor Forrest was beyond his reach, for the moment. It was part of the wildlands that stood between his land and the nearby elves of Soolleni Woods to the north and west. To enter it in numbers would be to threaten them, and he did not need a war with the elves. They would make dangerous foes. Damn the man’s subtle logic. And damn the man to the underworld too!

  “Go!” Umber all but screamed at the man. The king knew he had gained as much as he was going to from the emissary, and he didn’t want to see his face again. He didn’t even want to know that he existed. And no more did he want to know any more about druids and giant stone soldiers. As the emissaries left, heading hurriedly once more for the back of the throne room and the huge double doors, he beckoned to the captain of his guards, and knew a moment of satisfaction as at least someone knew how to show his king the respect he was due. The man came instantly and bowed his head, just as he should.

  “Take a patrol to this town, Silver Falls, and find those huntsmen, all of them, and bring me their heads.”

  As the captain bowed and left immediately to do his bidding the king knew a brief moment of satisfaction. He might not be able to kill these accursed emissaries; he might not be able to have his vengeance on this demon or druid or whatever he was, but at least he could have the satisfaction of killing those who had failed him. He did not accept failure.

  Of course that moment of pleasure was immediately taken from him as he gestured to the next of the petitioners who had come to see him and an overdressed and overweight poxy merchant walked the few steps to the front of his throne, bowed too briefly and then launched into his list of demands.

  This time it was something about access to the water holes in Aridis for the merchant caravans which the local farmers were objecting to. As if he cared! Yet he had no choice. Somehow when he’d finally taken the throne into his hands as it always should have been, he had never imagined the endless drudgery that it would be. The long queues of people wanting things from him, the clerks needing his signature on so many pieces of paper, the courtiers wanting his attention as they invited him to balls and receptions without number. Maybe after all, the Council had served a purpose.

  Of course they were dead now too, so it was probably a little late to start asking for their help.

  Maybe though, if the emissaries were right and there were dark times ahead, he could give up all this mindless drudgery and return to his more enjoyable pastimes of war and bloodshed. And maybe, if this druid could not be beaten in open warfare, he could be killed by cunning. An assassin might succeed where an army would not.

  It was a pleasing thought, and the smile returned to his face as he listened to his subjects’ endless bleating, causing them some little consternation. Maybe it even scared them a little.

  He liked it when they feared him.

  Chapter Two.

  Five days after he had last seen her, the royal guard returned to Alan’s lands, minus her charge. But this time instead of the child, she had two new companions, both of them hunters in their own right, and instead of being hunted she was the one doing the hunting. She was hunting him.

  Alan sighed to himself when he felt her returning for him. There was no one else to hear anyway, and so he heated the stones for tea as he did every morning, but added a little more water to the pot. He felt her and her guests methodically tracking him down and knew they would be with him soon. Actually they were simply back tracking her desperate ride of five days earlier back to the cottage and the old peasant she had seen on her way here, surely believing that he was either a wizard who had stopped the huntsmen, or worse the demon god of the forest if such a creature could actually exist. They’d clearly heard what had happened to the huntsmen. But why did they care?

  The elves had heard the same stories as the villagers over the years, even if they weren’t quite as believing of them. They surely knew or guessed that a powerful wizard lived out here rather than a demon spirit as they weren’t easily fooled. On the other hand they didn’t know who it was, as it wasn’t in their nature to be curious or meddle with strangers, and up till then they’d never bothered to find out. Now they were suddenly curious? He didn’t like that at all.

  No amount of illusion he knew would have fooled them a second time, for they were carrying charms against it, obviously guessing his ruse, and he could feel the way they straightened out his subtlest hints of illusion even at this distance. He could overcome them, but not easily and not perfectly. Worse, even if such magic somehow could have fooled her, one of her companions was a wizard of some strength. He could feel her aura quite clearly, and though she was nowhere near as powerful as him, her gift was in truth and she would have felt his magic and seen through his spells. That was undoubtedly why she had been sent. Strong enough to see through his illusions but not powerful enough to pose him a threat. The elders had chosen her carefully.

  Better to greet them openly, accept their insults, listen to their words and then ask them to leave. Politely of course.

  **************

  It was nearly an hour before the group came upon him; they were slower than he’d expected, and the tea was almost past its best, though still warm by the time they arrived. Beside it he had set out on the small table some fresh baked bread from his oven with a little butter and honey, and three more chairs for his guests who were surely tired and likely to be uncertain of their welcome, as well as some good hay for the horses. But whether they would accept it he didn't know. After all they were elves and he was a dark elf, it was only natural that they would be suspicious when they realized what he was. Then too, they were busy staring at his home, and wondering just who or what he was to live in such a place. For while the beauty of his home rivalled that of any elven home, it was constructed from human plans and sited on the ground instead of perched up in a tree. Despite having spent a lot of time with the dryads, another tree dwelling people, he’d never seen a lot of point i
n climbing all those stairs, or in their case, rope ladders, or sleeping in what were little more than nests. Besides, he liked the generally straight lines of human style dwellings.

  He had paintings though of Nightfire, and one day were it possible, he would have loved to have seen the city with his own eyes. The elves might not like the dryad’s nests and their lack of sophistication, but they too built into the treetops, and what their cities lacked in humility, they made up for in artistry.

  “You’d best tie up your horses on the gathering rail and then pull up a seat. The tea’s been growing cold waiting for you.” They had been surprised too, just as he’d expected when they came through the forest and burst out into his glade to find him waiting there, but for different reasons. The guard was surprised because where she had seen a rude shanty and an old and no doubt common peasant before, she now found herself facing a young well-appointed warrior wizard sitting on the porch of a rather well kept cottage, complete with flower gardens, pergola and a picket fence. No doubt she was wondering which was the illusion. The man beside her, an elven soldier of some standing from the golden longbow he carried, was rattled because they were expected and because Alan was clearly wearing armour even if his silver swords were hanging from the rail. And the woman mage was surprised because this close to him she sensed his nature. Thus far she alone realised that he was a dark elf and a wizard.