Elf Lords: 01 - Pearls of the Elf Lords Read online

  “No sense in that,” The thief replied, “they have already smelled it and know we’re here, why else would they be sneaking up on us?”

  “She is right,” Jaylen agreed, “If we put out the fire we will let them know that we are aware of their approach. Better to pretend that we do not suspect anything, that way we have the element of surprise should they wish us harm.”

  “Very well,” The Knight acceded, “But we still take up the positions. Prince Eric, you and Jandelie should go to the opposite end of the camp and wait by the horses with Jordan.”

  Jandelie became indignant, “I can take care of myself, Alek Jerobohim. There is no need for me to hide.”

  The Knight sneered at the female thief, “I fully understand that, and it was not my intention to insult you. Rather, I want you and my brother there to protect the Prince and assist with his safe escape should that become necessary.”

  Now it was Eric’s turn to feel insulted, “Of all the nerve. I will not run away from battle!”

  “Lower your voice, fool.” Weslocke spat.

  “I do not expect you to run from a fight, Prince Eric,” Alek continued, “But it is my responsibility to keep you safe. If we need your sword I expect you to use it. But if the fight goes against us then I expect you to flee and return safely to Birhirm. And I trust my brother and Jandelie to see to it that you will comply.”

  “What about me?” Natis asked.

  The Knight faced the mage, “Can you do anything that will make it appear that the camp is occupied and everyone is asleep?” He asked.

  Natis looked about at their surroundings. “Simple enough, I can even make it appear that there is a guard who has fallen asleep at his post. But the illusion will only last until the first fake person is attacked.”

  “That is all the time we should need to surprise them; Now everybody into position.”

  * * * * *

  Landis crouched behind a tree, his ivory colored bow in hand. The enchanted weapon seemingly looked shadowy in the night, as if it somehow absorbed the darkness around it in some magical chameleon-like way of camouflage. He had an arrow notched in place as he waited on the outermost perameter of the camp. Off to his left his father knelt nearly invisible in the brush, with a throwing knife in each hand. There was a large gap where they expected the intruders to enter the clearing between them and the two waiting on the other side.

  Weslocke Blademender stood behind a thick evergreen bush holding his axe, while Alek knelt near the dwarf holding his loaded crossbow ready.

  Looking back into the camp Landis could see what he knew to be an illusion; six blurred images appeared to be sleeping beneath heavy blankets. Several feet away there was what appeared to be a man sitting down with his back against a tree and his head leaning forward. While the images looked unreal to the half-elf’s eyes, he understood that it was his knowledge of the illusion that made it so, and that whoever was coming through the brush would see it more clearly.

  He focused his eyes on the darkness ahead as the sound of footsteps trampling through the brush became louder. Landis trained his eyes on them and was taken aback when he saw elves and orcs together. Elves despised orcs and would never willingly travel with them. Orcs were nothing more than savage creatures of limited intellect that knew little more than how to kill, eat and steal. They were only slightly more intelligent than goblins and nearly as evil as trolls. Landis had to fight the urge to release his arrow into the first one he spotted. For elves to be with them was as unnatural as anything else the half-elf had ever encountered.

  He did what he knew his father, Alek and Wes were doing—taking count of the enemy—as they waited impatiently for what he knew would be a fight. This was not a simple band of travelers who had happened upon them in the night and sought the safety of their campfire. Nor was it any patrol seeking the reason for their being here. No, this was going to be an attack. They had suspected brigands at the worst. But this was more than a band of brigands. Landis could clearly see sixteen orcs and six elves. From the movement in the brush behind them he guessed that there were another half dozen or more unseen raiders with them.

  The orcs made all the noise as they crept closer to the camp. The elves were silent and lissome in their approach. Four of the elves carried bows which they readied as they neared the camp. The elves aimed their arrows then stopped. One of them whispered something sharply to the others as they all lowered their bows in unison and began looking about as one of them spoke to the orcs.

  They see through the illusion. Landis realized, knowing that their initial advantage was lost. He hoped that the others comprehended this as well as he took aim at one of the elves with a bow, reasoning that the elves would be the most crucial to bring down. He heard the prearranged whistle letting him know that Alek had deduced the same thing that he had and that the fight was now underway. Landis released his arrow and was readying another almost instantly.

  The elf that had been instructing the orcs was struck by the green fletched arrow before he ever knew what was happening. The elf closest to him was felled only a moment later. A third elf staggered backwards as a crossbow bolt fired by Alek struck him in the throat. The fourth bow-armed elf fired an arrow in Alek’s direction, having judged both the location of the whistle and the direction of the crossbow bolt. As he reached back for another arrow the elf stumbled forwards from the impact of two throwing knives striking him fatally in the back of the neck and middle of his back. Landis saw Jaylen dropping back to the ground as soon as he had thrown the two blades. The two remaining elves pointed to where they had seen Jaylen appear and were shocked when he arose again from several feet away to throw two more knives. Both elves were stabbed by Jaylen’s knives but only one fell from his wounds. The other had been struck in the left shoulder.

  Landis marveled at his father’s quickness and agility as he moved about. No doubt the remaining elf and orcs believed Jaylen to be three different elves as he now appeared in front of them in yet another location, this time with his twin short swords drawn and ready for battle.

  Landis fired another arrow. The remaining elf was now obstructed so the half-elf chose one of the orcs. Seeing the arrow strike the creature completely through the neck, Landis began firing at will into the creatures until he heard a loud battle cry and saw Konik rushing into the fray holding his two-handed sword ready. On his heals was Trevor Kahn. Landis then saw Weslocke appear from behind the orcs and deliver a fatal blow with his axe into one of the nearest creature’s head. The half-elf dropped his bow and drew his sword and ran to join the fight. As he did so he saw others rushing in behind the orcs. There were four more elves and two humans joining the battle. One of the nearest elves was only a step behind the dwarf.

  “Wes, behind you!” Landis shouted in warning.

  Weslocke spun on his heals and lowered his head, thankful for his short stature as the elf’s sword swung harmlessly several inches above him. The elf was not so lucky as the dwarf’s axe buried into his belly.

  Jaylen was spinning his twin swords in a windmill-like pattern in what surely would have looked like an acrobatic spectacle in a town fair had they not been in the midst of battle. The orcs fell back in fear of him as they witnessed the elf deliver effortless deathblows to their kin.

  If the sight of the double-sword-wielding elf had caused terror in the orcs, then the appearance of Konik was enough to make them want to drop their weapons and flee. But the orcs regrouped under the command of their unlikely allies and pressed on only to fall before the swords of Jaylen, Konik and Trevor.

  Landis directed his attention to the remaining elves and the two humans, believing these to be their most significant adversaries. He faced off with the nearest elf, observing that the elf was paler than any he had ever met before. The elf’s lips were thin and black and his eyes wide in a near dwarf-like fashion. His hair was white, just as the other elves he traveled with.

  “Snow-Elf.” Landis said aloud as the two began parrying swords. He did
not have time to wonder why a group of snow-elves—which were fighting in the war to the north with Alexon—would have traveled this far south. Instead he had to concentrate on the fighting style of the elf that was before him. They traded blows thrice more before Landis saw his opening and thrust his sword into the snow-elf’s belly, then pulled his sword free and sliced it across the stunned creature’s throat before moving to face his next opponent.

  Eric was not about to sit out this fight. Once the hand-to-hand combat began the prince drew his decorative sword and ran from where he waited with Jordan and Jandelie to partake in the battle. Seeing him go, Jandelie looked to the Squire and said, “Well, I guess that’s our cue to join the fight.”

  Jordan pulled his sword and said, “After you, my lady.” And off they ran.

  Natis was smashing his mace over the head of an orc as the Prince rushed past him. Eric was well trained in the use of his sword but had never experienced any real combat other than hunting down and killing rove orcs. While he would be of help against such creatures, his inexperience resulted in him unwittingly facing off against one of the two more seasoned human fighters. Eric was fortunate to dodge a well-placed sword thrust that still managed to draw blood across his forearm. Had he been any slower his hand would have been severed. With a quick parry he struck the other across the face with the flat of his blade, forcing the man to back away a step, giving Eric the chance he needed. With a false thrust to the head, which brought the fighter’s blade high to parry the blow, Eric quickly cut downward, where his blade found and easy target into the fighter’s chest. As the man fell before him Eric backed away, staring intently at the look on the dying man’s face and at the trace of blood that trickled from between his lips. He stood there gawking at the body of the fallen man, not noticing the two orcs coming at him from behind. If not for Jaylen and Natis, Eric would have been felled next. The mage, who had been trying to follow Eric, struck one of the orcs in the back of the head with his mace, leaving only the lone orc to threaten the Prince. As the creature lunged at Eric, Jaylen appeared before it, his right hand sword easily parried the blow of the orc’s blade leaving the elf with a clean shot at the orcs head with his left hand sword, which swung freely catching the orc in the neck, cleanly severing the creature’s head.

  “Don’t stand there, Eric!” The elf warned, “Fight or leave the field. We cannot afford to stand here and protect you!”

  Jandelie was appreciative of Jordan’s abilities with his sword as the two teamed up to take on a trio of orcs. Two others already lay dead at their feet. Jandelie forced one of the three back to where Eric was standing. She could hear Jaylen yelling at the Prince but did not pay any attention to the words. Eric turned to see the orc backing his way and thrust his sword into the creatures back.

  Trevor Kahn came face to face with the remaining human swordsman. The mercenary who had hired out to the snow-elves must have recognized who he was fighting. Trevor did not recall the man or know if they had fought on the same field together—either as allies or adversaries—or perhaps the man just knew him by reputation. No matter what the reason, Trevor saw both fear and recognition in his opponent’s eyes. The fighter did his best to fend off Trevor’s attack to no avail and soon fell to the ground, his blood covering the dead grass below his body.

  Konik bullied through the few orcs that still stood to rush the injured snow-elf, who raised his sword in an attempt to block Konik’s as he brought it down upon him. The two swords met and the snow-elf’s blade was knocked from his hand as Konik’s sword—though slightly diverted—sliced deep into the snow-elf’s left shoulder close to his neck. Konik jerked his sword free as a fountain of blood spurted from the snow-elf’s injury as it fell to the ground. The plainsman turned around to see the last of the orcs falling before Jordan and Weslocke.

  The battle was over.

  “Where is Alek?” Jordon asked as he surveyed the clearing. There was no sign of his brother anywhere, nor had he seen him during the battle.

  “Alek!” He called, rushing to the brush where his brother had been stationed before the fighting began. “No!” He cried out in dismay as he rounded the bushes.

  Landis and Weslocke, who were cleaning their weapons of blood, as were the others, stopped what they were doing to follow after him. What they found was disheartening; Alek Jarobohim was lying on his back with an arrow protruding from his left eye. The only arrow fired by the snow-elves—and that fired out of desperation—had caused the only casualty for the companions during this fight: Sir Knight Alek Jarobohim was dead. Landis exited the bushes to inform the others of what they had already expected after hearing Jordan’s cry. Jordan wept unashamedly as he knelt by his fallen brother. Natis joined the dwarf as the two did their best to comfort the distraught Squire.

  Jandelie came to Landis’ side, allowing him to put his arm around her and pull her body close to his. “He is taking it pretty hard.” She said of Jordan.

  Konik snorted, “He will survive the pain. Steel sharpens steel; he will be stronger for it.” The plainsman was doing his best to ignore his feelings and not display any of the sympathy he had for Jordan. For he had grown too accustomed to death to allow such feelings take root now.

  Trying to keep his mind occupied, Landis busied himself with other matters. “Father, have you heard anything about snow-elves coming south of Alexon? Or do you know of any reason why they would be here?”

  Jaylen had been busy walking amongst the dead retrieving his throwing knives, cleaning them and replacing them into their respective places in the braces across his chest. “No reason that I am aware of.” He answered.

  Landis observed Eric standing off to the side, his jeweled sword lying carelessly on the ground nearby. Landis released his hold on Jandelie and walked over to retrieve the sword. He picked it up and began cleaning the blade.

  “Drop something?” He spoke dryly, handing the sword to the Prince.

  “I did not forget it,” Eric spat. “I cannot bear to hold it any longer. I have never felt as sick in my life as I do now.”

  “You did well, Eric. What is the problem?”

  “I have never killed a man before, Landis. Sure I have fought, and killed orcs a few times, but never another man. At first I wanted to fight. I was angry at the thought of being left out. I rushed in and… The look on his face when I killed him...”

  “He would have killed you if he could have. Remember that, Eric.”

  “That doesn’t change things. It does not remove the sickness that I feel now.”

  Landis rested his hand on Eric’s shoulder. “I understand. The first time you kill is the worst. It passes with time. But hopefully you will always have compassion enough to regret killing. Just do not let it bother you so much that it prevents you from taking action when your life is on the line.”

  * * * * *

  While Jordan mourned the loss of his brother, the others searched the bodies of the snow-elves and two humans, seeking any clue as to why they were traveling through these parts. They found a few coins and other belongings; pocketing some of the items, but found nothing else of use. The orcs were left unattended as they would have nothing in their possession worth the time or effort to search them.

  Jordan wanted to take his brother’s body with them so that he could be buried with honors back at home. His request had been rejected by the rest of the group, citing that it would be a futile effort as—even with the cooler weather that they were experiencing—the Knight’s body would be decomposing before they could return it. So against his wishes, the Squire agreed. Jordan gathered Alek’s belongings and armor and bundled them together on the back of the horse that his brother had been riding. At least these could be returned. They buried Alek Jarobohim near the place where he had died, taking time to pray over his grave and then broke camp as the sun was rising over the horizon. They were tired and their spirits were down. But no one wanted to stay in this place any longer.

  Chapter 5

  It was cold,
very cold. That was the first thought to enter the Landis’ mind. He opened his eyes but all he could see was white. The half-elf lay in the midst of a heavy snowfall. It was so heavy that he could not see more than a few feet in any direction. Landis tried to lift himself up off the frozen snow covered ground only to realize that he was unable to move at all.

  Paralyzed, he feared: Something was beginning to seem very familiar about all of this. But whatever it was he could not put his finger on it.

  Where am I? The question crossed his mind suddenly. At the same time he realized with a shock that he had no memory of how he had come to be in this predicament; trapped in a blizzard, unable to do anything to save himself from freezing to death. But wait; he was no longer freezing. Landis felt his body growing warm. He thought that perhaps he was going numb, losing all sense of feeling in his body. The half-elf remembered stories of how people would suddenly feel warmer just before dying from exposure to the cold. Landis did not have to consider such things for very long, his mind was starting to cloud on him, his eyes blurred and soon the half-elf was once more drifting off to sleep.

  He awoke in a daze. Discovering that he was no longer alone, for a golden haired elf maiden was now standing over him. She stooped over and lifted the half-elf without any effort at all, as if Landis were no more then a small child. He thought that he must be suffering from delusions, though the idea seemed to vanish as he felt himself moving, tossed about in the elf’s arms. He did not know how far she had carried him when the elf finally came to a stop, laying him gently to the ground once more. Landis tried to speak, to do anything, but found that his body would not respond to any of his commands.

  “Relax.” She spoke to him in a voice more musical then any he had ever heard before. The elf maiden removed his wet clothing then began to rub oils over his naked body. Landis drifted into darkness many times. Each time he awoke only to find her still laboring over him. Finally she spoke again. But it was not to him this time.