SYLVAN ELF CHRONICLES: BATTLE FOR ELVENFELD

By Christianne Van Keuren

Separated momentarily by a fell beast and a ravine, the trio reunite as the trails converge in pursuit of Nalas at Slithon Mountain. Lynerin’s falconette, Tiabhse, hatches and flies to reach her beloved mistress again. A new weapon of eyes in the skies for Kaleen against Nalas and his troops.

Darius must seek out his sister to pass on vital information regarding Nalas. On his way to Kaleen, Darius finds his soulmate in Vitaria and asks her to become his wife. Teaming up with Kaleen and the others they run into a large Lorkian scouting party with tragic outcomes for all. Afterwards, all eyes turn to Elvenfeld as Nalas’ new target is revealed for destruction and control of all. Sometimes one must pay attention to the “invisibles” in the room when you declare your intentions.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fulton Books, Inc.
• Release date: Sep 23, 2020
• ISBN: 9781646548392

Book preview

Chapter One

THE storm the night before had opened up with a heavy downpour, accentuated with a brilliant lightning display and accompanying, deafening thunder. It was successful in washing away much of the scuffle and blood from the ensuing fight of the day before.

Even though they had managed to stretch a tarp to huddle beneath, the group awoke damp and grumpy. The heavy rain; though brief; had proved too much for the tarp and it leaked in the middle, drowning out the small fire they tried to keep going for warmth. It leaked mostly because someone had the brilliant idea to use his bare hand and not a stick to push up the tarp to remove the water that bellied the tarp in the middle. Several of them glanced, or more appropriately glared, at the opposite side of the ravine with a jaundiced eye. Jason was the first to voice his displeasure of his discomfort the following morning.

I hope they had a good night’s sleep last night.

Eventually, Bertie mumbled under his breath; envy tainting his tone for a different reason.

What was that you mumbled Bertie? Jason asked.

Bertie was in no way going to reveal what he knew had gone on the night before with the pair on the other side, especially to Jason.

I said probably. But then again, we might never know until we ask them will we? Bertie almost growled.

Oooooh, someone woke up on the wrong side of the rock this morning eh? Jason commented. Then a funny look passed over his face before he asked no one in particular. You don’t think they…

Bertie’s disgruntled look became one of disgust. Get your mind out of the gutter Jason. And he said no more as he turned his back on Jason, concentrating on his steaming coffee. He did not want to look anyone in the eye for he didn’t want to lie and he dared not speak the truth.

Sorrrrryyyy. Came Jason’s sarcastic response stomping away.

Bertie finally dared a sideways glance at his son and knew both he and Jason would need some tending to. While all had acquired some bumps, bruises and gashes from the day before, those two had sustained the worst of it. He finished his coffee, tossing the grounds before heading to his pack to see what he had to help. It was still early as the rising sun’s sparkling wink crowned the wet leaves and grass with bejeweled rainbow halos. Bertie never tired of seeing such simple beauty that Mother Nature seemed fit to share on rare occasions.

He bent over his pack as he searched through his belongings. He could not feel the tingle of his pendant because it was dangling away from his skin on the chain. He felt nothing until he straightened up and the piece plunked, rather heavily, against his chest.

The unexpected sensation felt from the contact against his skin so startled Bertie that it almost took his breath away. A shudder of intense, mental pleasure translated to a physical one that flooded over him like a warm, soft wave of water. He let his mind wander to his own pleasant memories with his wife. The intensity of the feeling meant that this union bound their souls to a profound emotional connection far surpassing the physical of the night before. He would not say a word to either one of them. Let them have today, for tomorrow they would be marching into the unknown.

He turned his attention back to the task at hand. Tad’s face; Jason’s shoulder. Tad had taken a hellava backhand to the face from the creature leaving him with a badly busted lip, black eye, swollen face and bloodied nose. Bertie was not entirely sure his nose wasn’t broken. On top of it all, he had lost at least one tooth. One winced just looking at him. Auggie had been sent off with two elves in search of witch hazel and white willow bark. Both would be steeped in boiling water to extract their healing properties. The witch hazel would help ease the swelling and disinfect the cuts; while the willow, although a bitter brew to swallow would ease the pain of sore muscles and deep bruises. In Tad’s case, it would ease the pounding headache he was nursing from flying halfway across the camp.

Jason, on the other hand, just escaped having his shoulder crushed beyond repair. If the creature had been healthy and at full strength, he probably would have killed them all. Jason’s shoulder was sporting a cartoonishly large hand-shaped painful bruise; as if a puppeteer had grabbed his marionette’s shoulder leaving his mark with purple-black paint.

Time would heal both, but for today, they would rest and recover starting fresh in the morning. Factions of men, forest dwellers and all the Elven houses assembled and began their campaign march. They all would be ready at a moment’s notice for departures.

Ophelia; who had been assisting the elflings, was now spending the majority of her time at Silvarnon. She was gradually bringing her belongings there. Ophelia would eventually be permanently back at Silvarnon.

Lazarian was back at Forestar for the time being preparing his troops. His mind, half on what he should be doing and the other half obsessing about Kaleen. Others noticed even though he tried hard to hide it. They weren’t sure what was occupying his thoughts, but he needed to focus on what was on his plate before him than on the unobtainable. His current wife knew what the mental distance was, she had seen it before. She knew his attention was being swayed by a pretty, young face. Quite frankly, she was glad for the distraction away from her. She had taken to sleeping in her private chambers under the pretext of not wishing to disturb him as he was working on military strategies with his generals. More to the point was, Lazarian’s thrashing about in their bed was continually startling her into wakefulness. He barely slept or ate and was ignoring his other lordly duties at Forestar. She didn’t say too much as she knew he wouldn’t heed her precautions anyway. She had been very young when she had caught Lazarian’s eye, much to her distress. Shortly thereafter, Lazarian and his second wife had a parting of the ways leaving him free to remarry. The fact that the second wife didn’t put up much of a fuss spoke volumes. She unwillingly, became his third wife and bore him two sons and a daughter before she had learned, quite tactfully, to spurn his advances at the opportune times. She always knew he had fathered children outside all of his marriages, and not exclusively with she-elves. He could be very persuasive when he wished, or he just took what he wanted by force.

She was quite relieved to be out of his bed and neglected, as she could return to her own duties as Ladyship without his interference. She also had time now for a long forgotten interest she shared in music. The music instructor was more than happy to have her returning under his tutelage, just as she was.

Ventina wasn’t quietly going about life either as she prepared for the changes she knew were coming. She had become very active at night, gathering fresh herbs and such to replenish her jars. She finally had just about enough of the herbs needed to cook down for the hypnotic drug she would use to control the human she needed. Ventina now needed to pick the victim to become her flunky. She would dearly love for it to be Jake for the way he had insulted her, but she knew she wasn’t physically strong enough to control him mentally and maintain her own mental control of her human form. No, she needed someone mentally weak for her to control. Someone, someone who wasn’t very bright; took suggestions easily. She immediately thought of Billy. Big, strong and slow-witted compared to his friends; easily coerced. Ventina began to watch Billy more intently; his every move, where he went and who he associated with. His nights…well his nights were spent frequenting the local public house. She took her time to find out what she needed. Ventina pretended that she didn’t notice when he was watching her.

She watched him as she waited to cook down the herbs. One herb was extremely toxic until the oil was extracted and dried. The vapors were toxic and intoxicating. She had to cook it in a cave far from town and her home so no one could track it back to her. It was particularly pungent and foul smelling until the oils rose to the surface. It was at this point that she could remove the leaves and stems and add sweet oil to the liquid. Keeping it at a low simmer evaporating away all the liquid leaving just a thick paste. Ventina could then spread the paste onto a tanned hide to dry down to a powder. She had to store the powder in an airtight container until she was ready to dose her victim.

The powder could be ingested, rubbed on the skin or just blown into the victim’s face. The amount used determined what state the person was left in. Anywhere from dazed to totally unconscious. It was the same drug the Wargi sorcerer had given Nalas’ flunky when he went after and subdued Matt. Billy was young, healthy and in fairly good shape, so she knew she would need a fairly large quantity for him. Once she had Billy under her control, Ventina would use more of the drug along with spell incantations to complete the process and take possession of his soul.

Ventina followed Billy one night as he went into the Rolling Moss Inn. She didn’t enter, instead she watched from a side window; peering in to see what was catching his attention. In short order she had her answer. He was flitting around a fairly pretty barmaid, drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

Now came the hard part. Ventina needed to study the girl’s face, actions, gestures, everything. She wanted to know it all so she could come close to what Billy liked and take him away from the girl. The girl had a bit more meat on her bones than Ventina, a nice rounded figure. Much different from the Lord Nalas she knew before the two body changes. His tastes then had run more towards a leaner, muscular frame. The new Nalas tastes tended to lean more towards Matt’s likes and dislikes. Being a much younger man, he preferred a younger woman with curves.

Ventina began to commit as much of the barmaid’s looks and mannerisms to memory as she could so she could practice the looks at home. She knew this was the one way she could get close to Billy without tipping him off as to who she was. The shape shifting along with powders and incantations would warp his mind so that Billy would only see the face she wanted him to see no matter what form she took; including her true self. Ventina almost cackled with glee that she had found a way. She should have thought of it before. Males of all species seemed to be wired the same way. The same way.

Chapter Two

THE remainder of Darius’ trip home was fairly uneventful, well unless you counted all the teasing he did to Vitaria when she was tending his wound when it first happened. His payback for his teasing attacked with a vengeance during the night in the form of sleepless wakefulness when the numbing ointment wore off and the pain jabbed him rudely awake every time he rolled onto his injured shoulder.

More than a couple of times Vitaria heard him groan in pain as Darius rolled the wrong way as he slept, or attempted to… She made a mental note to herself to use more of Brian’s ointment when she changed Darius’ bandage in the morning. She was more embarrassed at having been caught admiring the view; as Darius put it; than anything else. Vitaria had put him in the same category as most males she came in contact with, whether it be elf, the village men or otherwise. That opinion rapidly evolved for the better during the trip and when she saw him talking to his Grandfather, Telasar. How he acted, the respect he showed and then when he put his life on the line to save hers. It wasn’t just the respect that Darius exhibited. He mirrored many of the same mannerisms of his grandfather. These actions were definitely ingrained from bloodline as Darius had never met or had contact with his grandfather. It reminded her of when she was a young she-elf; when she had a major schoolgirl crush on the then young Telasar. He didn’t even know she existed, as a female that is, when he helped her learn how to handle a bow. To him, she was just another student being taught how to handle a weapon. He helped her when she was having a problem with a certain elder elf lord harassing her. He didn’t think twice about protecting a young she-elf in need. She tried hard to push it out of her mind so she could sleep, but couldn’t.

Darius displayed these same traits. Her sleep disrupted by his unselfish act by putting himself between her and the assailant pricked at her conscience, giving Vitaria an overwhelming sense of indebtedness. Taking care of his wound was one way she could repay the debt. She would do that until they parted company back at the village.

Renewal of hidden feelings stemming from seeing Lord Telasar again were transferred onto Darius. He looked so much like his grandfather did at that age. Looks and mannerisms unwittingly stirring the pot of sexual tension between the two.

The next morning she arose before the others and found more soap weed with which to cleanse the wound. She had some water warming as the others got up. She came back into the campsite to find them all around the fire. She approached Darius, who was sitting; or more accurately squatting; right next to it and the bowl of warming water.

We need to clean and redress that wound. Vitaria stated matter-of-factly.

Darius looked up at her with a very pained look on his face. I think it’s just fine. Thank you very much.

I think we need to take care of it.

Not if you’re gonna do what you did yesterday and try to scald the skin off of me like a butchered hog. Just leave it be.

Stop whining like a baby.

I’m not whining, woman. That hurts worse than the spear itself.

By this time Darius was standing, turning to face her and forcing her to look up at him. She didn’t back away, hands on hips, chin jutting out in defiance. Darius didn’t move. They probably would have stayed that way for a long time if Brian hadn’t intervened.

Darius.

What? Darius’ eyes never left Vitaria’s. Challenging her.

Darius. Brian’s voice firm, annoyed.

Darius finally looked at Brian only to be rewarded by a look that an annoyed parent gives their child. Darius tried to give a firm look back, but failed miserably.

Just stop grousing and let her do her job. Get the wound cleaned and put a fresh bandage on it.

Darius turned back to face Vitaria with a pouting scowl on his face. Vitaria had to turn away for a quick moment, biting her lip to keep from smirking.

And Darius?

Yeeesss. His eyes never leaving Vitaria’s face.

You’re not a little boy anymore. Deal with it.

The scowl became focused on Brian. Brian’s face just broke out into a grin as he polished off his coffee. The scowl was lost on him as it was when his own children did it.

Darius growled at Brian. Oh you’re such a funny man Brian.

So I’ve been told. He said, saluting with his coffee cup. At least that’s what my offspring complain about. Chuckling as he walked away.

Darius focused his attention back on Vitaria. No more hot water? Eyes narrowed to thin slits of accusation.

No. No more hot water, just warm. She held out both hands, palms up. I promise.

Gee. Why don’t I believe you?

Your problem not mine. Now sit back down so I can attend to that wound. Please.

He did as she asked. As he mocked her. Yes mother. Miffed, she responded, which was the worst thing she could have done. If I were your mother, I’d turn you over my knee and…

Darius’ eyes became owlishly wide with feigned innocence as he looked up at her. Is that a threat or a promise?

At first Vitaria became annoyed with his flipness, until she caught the connotation behind his comment. Annoyance flipped to embarrassment, pink cheeks and a slack jaw; unable to do more than sputter indignant sounds. Shoulders stiffening as she turned and walked away; or, more correctly, stomped away. Darius’ laughter dogged her footsteps. That is until he realized how much he had offended her. He stood up and chased after her.

Vitaria! Vitaria! She ignored his pleas. Fists clenched, shoulders and back stiff as a board.

Vitaria come on…stop I was only kidding, come on.

She spun on him when he caught up to her. Her words as sharp and pointed as the fingertip she jabbed into his chest with each word.

Everything is always a joke to you. You need to stop treating me like one of your…your village girls that fawn over your every word like…like they were pearls of wisdom. Thinking every scrap of attention you pay them is is, oh just leave me alone. She turned her back on him for a brief moment before turning back, again the finger punctuating her every word.

I was only trying to be decent. Why must you always make it so hard? Her face mottled with red and white splotches. All the while, Darius just stood taking the poking not saying a word, just grimacing with each successive poke. She finally stopped, eyes shiny bright with tears of frustration.

Well?…Why? She demanded; biting her lip for control. Vitaria wanted to grab him and shake him till his teeth rattled, that or…or. She quickly pushed those thoughts from her mind.

You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s stupid…childish. I…I don’t really know what…and I don’t treat you like the village girls. I never have…honestly.

Then why do you do it? Her voice losing some of it’s anger. I expected better of you.

Darius looked down at his feet that had taken to shifting back and forth. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her. He knew why, but was too embarrassed to tell her the real reason. What he really gave her was an extremely lame excuse and she knew it.

I was showing off in front of the other guys. Just being juvenile.

There’s more to it than that Darius and I know it.

Darius tried to explain, but couldn’t keep himself from tripping over his tongue. I guess… I just…you.

Just what…?Me what?

He let out a huge sigh. Just trying to get your attention. Showing off.

Exasperation was mirrored in both her words and face. Well, you got it, but I don’t think it was the kind of attention you were really expecting. I was ready to take your head clean off your shoulders. Instead I walked away and didn’t give in to my feelings.

Ummm. His expression contrite, shuffling his feet so the toes of his boot kicked at loose pebbles, watching them roll away.

Ummm? Just ummm? Nothing else? Brows raised with expectation of the truth.

Umm you’re right? Darius looked back up at her.

Air exploded out of her as her chin fell, landing heavily on her chest. You are so lucky I like you. Anyone else I would have run clean through long ago.

A furrowed brow replaced the contriteness. Now you sound like my sister.

Whom I’m sure found it hard not to run you through as well.

"That’s kinda painting me in a bad light.’

Don’t you think you’ve earned it?

Darius’ eyes shifted from side to side before finally looking her straight in the eye.

Soooo? Are ya gonna change the bandage or not? A pause, That is if I promise to behave? And? Her eyes narrowed.

And what? His face blank, not sure of what she was asking of him.

And how are you going to act towards me from now on?

Darius frowned, starting to get aggravated with her picking. He just looked at her before finally giving her the answer she seemed to want. Treat you as you deserve and nothing else.

She searched his face to see if he was mocking her, but he seemed sincere. Her eyes flicked down towards his hands. Darius caught the look and pulled his hands up so Vitaria could see them better.

No crossed fingers if that’s what you’re looking for.

Okay, but…

There’s always a but with you isn’t there? Darius interrupted, his tone changed, becoming peevish as she began to get under his skin like his annoying younger siblings. She gave him a hard look. Sorry, please continue. Came his snide apology.

But you have to stop with the innuendos and treat me as you would any other fellow soldier.

Darius’ eyes left her face and quickly ran up and down the length of her body. She clenched her jaw, anger stiffened her body posture and reflected itself in her voice.

Darius. Indignant at the overt look.

His line of sight came back up to her face. No hint of humor inflected in his voice. You make it hard, but I will try to do as you ask. He started to head back to the fire when her voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

Would you have done the same thing if I had been a he-elf?

Look at you like I just did? Certainly not!

I don’t mean the vulgar leer.

Then what?

When; as you put it; saved my butt. I was a little embarrassed at being yanked across your lap like a sack of potatoes.

Darius stepped back closer to her, his voice dropping down to a brusque whisper so only she could hear it. Better to be a little embarrassed and be able to bitch about it the next day, then let your pride take your head clean off your shoulders. He started to walk away before turning back to face her. Oh and for your information, I would have done the same thing for any he-elf, widgeon or fellow man from my village. I wasn’t seeing a helpless she-elf who needed protection, I was reacting to an unseen danger and I was just pulling you out of harm’s way by whatever means I felt necessary. So, yes I would have done the same for Brian or Gregan.

So, you saw me as…

But again Darius interrupted her. As a target for the Lorkian’s spear. You had to be moved and I did it. Nothing more, nothing less no ulterior motives. He turned his back on her, speaking over his shoulder as he headed back by the fire. If we’re done ‘chatting’ I would like to get this dressing changed now so we can be on our merry way. Words clipped and short.

Vitaria had no come back as she followed him back to the fire and began redressing his wound. Darius sat as quietly as possible, flinching only a couple of times when Vitaria wiped off the old ointment before smearing on new. She had him bandaged up in short order. He was silent as they got ready to leave. And just as mum rode next to her. There was none of the usual chatter she had grown accustomed to over the past few days. It bothered her. She looked over at him, but he never returned the look. Darius gave no indication of what was going through his mind. Vitaria decided to break the ice by speaking first.

It’s been a pretty morning. Her voice, light. She got no response so she pushed a little harder. Don’t you think so Darius?

Darius looked over at her. Were you speaking to me?

Yeeess. Her response drawn out.

Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. Keep watch. Darius’ tone and expression, flat.

I said it’s been a pretty morning.

Darius looked about his surroundings as if noticing it for the first time that day. You’re right. It is a nice day. And then he turned his attention back on the trail in front of him.

She let it drop and they rode on for a while before she spoke again or more accurately probed with a question. Are you angry with me?

Darius turned in his saddle slightly to look at her. What on earth would make you ask that? Darius’ voice thick with sarcasm.

Weeelll…maybe since you really haven’t spoken much since we saddled up this morning.

He looked at her for a moment before answering. Well maybe; and I just mean maybe; could be I have nothing to say.

Jokingly she replied, Well you usually chatter on like a magpie. The look on his face made her immediately regret her wording.

Then my being quiet ought to come as a welcome relief to your bleeding ears. And before she could say another word he nudged his horse forward slightly.

Darius, don’t be angry with me.

I’m not angry, just doing as you ask.

I didn’t say not to talk to me.

Darius glared at her. Make up your mind Vitaria. You’re beginning to annoy me.

You are angry. And what do you mean, make up my mind? And I’m annoying?

Just exactly that, and yes you are. Don’t chatter, but talk to me. Treat me like a fellow soldier, but respect you as a woman. You can’t have it both ways Vitaria.

Wait a minute. If I was a male soldier would you treat me differently?

Darius looked her square in the eyes as he answered her. Yes. And before you interrupt me I will tell you how. He paused for a breath and before he could speak Vitaria spit out her impatience.

I’m waiting.

Then shut up and listen. He watched her jaw go slack at his comment. That’s how I would speak to a male comrade when he interrupts. I have given you more respect as a woman, because that’s how my mother brought me up, but you are severely trying my patience. Any girl worth her salt knows when she has it good and is being treated like a lady. I see I’ve made that mistake with you and I will correct it. From this point on I will treat you as a fellow soldier. No more no less. Agreed?

Dumbfounded and at a loss for words she just stared. No he-elf had ever spoken to her in such a manner, probably never would considering her ranking, but Darius wasn’t taking any of that into consideration. Darius had reached the end of his tether and voiced it.

What do you say, Vitaria? Your choice. Treat you as a lady or treat you as I would Gregan and Brian?

Treat me with the respect due my station young elf lord. Came the frosty reply.

So be it Vitaria. You shall be given what you request. His tone cold. He didn’t wait for a response as he pushed his horse forward away from her.

Vitaria was left to stare at his retreating back. She didn’t know what to think. He was going to give her as she asked, but now she wasn’t really sure she had won anything other than his anger, and quite possibly his disrespect. Her bewildered conundrum almost unseated her as her horse lurched forward to try and keep pace with Darius’ mount. Setting her jaw, Vitaria thought to herself. ‘Well, I’ll play along for now with his agreement. We’ll see just how long Master Darius can handle the quiet.’ If she was waiting for him to crack she would have to wait a long time. Darius had inherited his father Simon’s stubbornness on top of ever-growing elfin traits from his grandfather.

Chapter Three

NALAS had gotten many of his troops ready to go at the same time Kaleen and the others left their pursuit of the murderous Grace. Final preparations were being made and a very small garrison of about twenty men were to be left behind to protect this hidden fortress. In Nalas’ mind they were expendable pawns, a small wall to shield his departure from the others. Just enough to slow someone down if they came in behind him. He and the remainder of the garrison would be leaving for his main fortress: Hecidia. Many of his ranking generals had gone ahead to get things set in place for his arrival. It would be good to get back to his home. The only thing holding Nalas back from leaving now was his waiting on the arrival of his servant, Tobias, with the female soldier. His mood worsened with each passing day as he waited. He took his frustrations out on those around him. Many seemed to sense his presence before he made it into a room making themselves scarce rather than incur his wrath.

The only one who wasn’t afraid was the Wargi sorcerer. He kept a tight watch on Nalas’ movements as he had his own agenda for the future. A future that included the kitchen skivvy. The girl had caught his attention in a different way than Nalas’.

For Nalas, she was an unwilling partner for his sexual relief of pent up energy and frustration; for the Wargi; she was a means to an end for his future. Capable of bearing Nalas’ progeny, whether she wanted to or not. He had to find a reason for Nalas to leave the girl behind so he could control her. A diversion was on its way, but he didn’t know it. What he didn’t know was the girl was using an herb so she wouldn’t get pregnant. She wasn’t stupid, she was not willing to bear his bastard child.

Tobias had enjoyed a day and a half of peaceful rest. No fetching this, no scurrying to fetch that. What short time he had spent there had been miserable and the only way to make it tolerable was to try and anticipate what Nalas needed before he asked for it. A lot of the time he was able to do so, but on the occasions that he slipped up he knew about it in a rush and with a heavy backhand.

Tobias missed teaching, and for all her mundane nagging, he missed his wife. All the bright spring sunshine still couldn’t lift the heavy hand of loneliness that darkened his spirit. He had to find some way of getting away from Nalas. Running now would end up in his death and probably his family as well. It would not be an easy death either. He had to bring the woman back and bide his time for now. He also knew that if the opportunity arose, he would kill Nalas before Nalas killed him. He knew Nalas would kill him when Tobias wore out his usefulness.

Tobias was not a Lorkian, so he felt none of the obligations towards Nalas as the sons and daughters of their forefathers had. He also had no intention of letting Nalas know he wasn’t a Lorkian for it would surely mean instant death for him. Now after more than a century and at least five generations since their enslavement, some of the Lorkians were attempting to shed the bonds of forced slavery. Many were ready to remove the yoke of corruption and live their lives in peace. Bitter resentment rose each time one of their young men or women were forced to enlist in Molktie’s army for Nalas.

Tobias had the unpleasant task of retrieving one of those forced into service. She felt none of the patriotism to Nalas’ cause but did as ordered, as she was a good soldier and respected her parents.

Her contempt for Molktie ran deep for she knew of other soldiers who did not do as ordered and things happened. No one ever asked questions. No one dared.

Her name was Mattea and she was an excellent soldier with well-honed skills, groomed for work that others had no stomach for. Her superiors considered her a natural in the position she held. She was the offspring from a long line of soldiers. Soldiers that had always put their lives on the line for Molktie and Nalas.

She proved what an excellent soldier she was when, very pregnant, she had fulfilled a mission that could have spelled certain death for both she and her unborn child if she failed. She made a point of being better than others for her own survival.

Mattea was no stunning beauty, nor was she ugly. Her features pleasant, but commonplace. If anyone saw her, they couldn’t really recall anything that remarkable enough about her to warrant their remembering. She blended in so well with those around her that many mistook her for a native of the village or town. Her ultimate goal was not to attract attention to herself. So far she had achieved her agenda. She would soon be putting all those skills to the ultimate test with Nalas. And not because she wished to.

Mattea kept her dark hair cut so it fell just below her shoulders. Not long enough to impede when in military gear, but long enough when not, to be done up as any other village woman had hers. Mattea kept her well-muscled body in top physical condition, especially during her pregnancies. She could handle any piece of weaponry with ease and confidence, her best being small concealed weapons for assassination.

Mattea’s most outstanding feature was what had gotten both her husband and Nalas’ attention. Her eyes. Eyes the color of a gray November sky that missed nothing and when angered the gray turned to cold steely-blue points. So cold that a stone flint had more warmth than those eyes. They never betrayed her inner thoughts when cornered or when she took a life. Her husband, Trevor and their children were the only ones to ever see the softness that was deep within her heart and allowed her to feel.

There was a small scar, just under her chin, from when she was young and in training. Her lack of arm strength and skills at the time allowed her more experienced partner to slip his blade in under hers, catching her with the tip of his blade opening a shallow one inch gash, wounding her more mentally than physically. It accomplished many things, but the biggest and foremost was her self forced doubling of her training efforts to build her strength and stamina, sometimes to the point of exhaustion.

Many nights she went to sleep too tired to even eat, then forcing herself to get up the next morning and start the whole process of the previous day all over again. Her dogged efforts did not go unnoticed by her superior’s. One such sergeant took over her hand to hand training for in fighting; and without his superior knowledge. The two honed her skills to become the ultimate assassin. She learned quickly and soon began to surpass her teacher.

On the fields where she learned to deal in death was also where she would learn to give life as well. It was here that she met Trevor. It took him almost a year to get close enough to her to gain her trust and almost as long to get her to let her guard down. Finally after almost two years the two were married. Their first child, a boy, followed within the next year.

It was during her second pregnancy that she proved herself with her deadliest mission as an assassin. Her commander had sent her under the pretext that no one would suspect a soft spoken, very pregnant woman selling her wares from a pushcart. He was correct. She managed to find and without a moment’s hesitation, slid an ultra-thin boning knife in her target’s sweetspot, puncturing an artery before walking calmly away. The target never knew what the stinging pinch in his back really was. The thin trickle of blood made no visible spot visible on his clothing as he walked away. The man suddenly felt lightheaded, staggering as if drunk before falling in a gutter to bleed out internally. His personal guards knew he had been drinking wine, so they didn’t suspect the attack at first; that is until they went to put his limp body onto a litter to carry him away. As the one guard grabbed the shoulders of his jacket the stress on the fabric caused it to tear along the knife slit and he almost dropped him. That was when they found the small wound in his back.

It wasn’t an easy mission and she almost…almost got caught, but she didn’t. Shortly thereafter she gave birth, a little earlier than expected. Mattea felt the mission was the reason why and was glad to be away from things for a while. What this mission also did was give her the right to refuse any assignment she chose. They were rare, but she had a few occasions when Mattea could pick family over military duty. Most of those were when her husband, Trevor was sent on scouting trips. For the first time in five years since the birth of their daughter she was about to be forced into taking an assignment that she couldn’t refuse.

Tobias, although pleased to be out of Nalas’ lair, still had the unpleasant task of fetching the object of Nalas’ fascination. He had lied to Nalas the first time saying that he did not know her, when seeing her again had triggered his memory and kept him awake the night after seeing her on the training field. It kept nagging at him until very early the following morning when it struck him as to who she was. Now the task came to keep anyone from finding out, especially the Wargi sorcerer. He made sure that he cleared his mind or he thought of vulgar things when the Wargi was near. Tobias had figured out in a hurry that the Wargi hated anything relating to normal human vices; vulgar thoughts of the opposite sex angered them. Not that Tobias was one to occupy his time with lascivious thoughts, but if it aggravated the Wargi than he was willing to comply.

He hadn’t recognized Mattea at first, because she had grown out of her gangly, awkward adolescence into accomplished adulthood. It wasn’t so much as her face that he remembered, for her looks like all youngsters changed as she grew. No, it was more the way she deported herself. Respectful, but aloof; that is until Nalas pushed her, then her true nature and strength of character asserted itself. She was not going to be intimidated nor bullied by him. Tobias remembered that she never tattled on the schoolyard bully or backed down from him when he had given her one of the severest beatings Tobias had ever seen. But that same bully was quicker than scat to rat her out when she retaliated and gave him a severe pounding when she was bigger. She took her lumps from the School Master for that, but was never bothered by another bully ever again. She saw Nalas in the same light on that day. She gave him no more respect than she gave that bully.

Tobias drew a collective sigh as he approached the outskirts of the town. He came to the first checkpoint and spoke the necessary information to continue towards the outer gates of the town. If Tobias were to venture an opinion as to how he would be received by the townspeople from the way the sentries treated him, then he was in for a very cold and suspicious greeting. The guards were just as tight lipped and leery as Nalas’ private guards. Guards who were old school Lorkian and more of a warring type people than his own. Tobias village was more like Kaleen’s. Craftsmen, farmers and tradesmen. This town appeared to hold true to form with most of its traditions. They must have at least one of their offspring go into military training. There were a few that refused and that’s when fear and intimidation reared its ugly head by forcing the issue or exiling the family from the village. This was happening more often as time passed and these exiles were forming their own smaller towns more concerned with their own prosperity and serenity than military slavery to a leader and Grace whom none of them respected or honored. They found growing and producing their own food and raising their own families more rewarding than killing and robbing.

Mattea’s oldest child had more of a bent for growing things than learning how to handle a weapon. Mattea did not quell this desire. She was a good soldier, extreme assassin and yet the thought of some peace was a pleasant concept.

Tobias quickly reached the gate and spoke to the guards. They directed him to where he had to go and Tobias quickly headed for the garrison outpost to deliver Nalas’ instructions and orders to retrieve this female soldier. He was quickly taken into the Major’s office.

The Major sent a messenger to find her at her post. In short order he returned with her. She tapped lightly on the door before entering at his direction. She turned to close the door, but stopped when he told her not to close it. She brought herself to attention in front of him as he purposely remained sitting. Mattea did manage to get somewhat of a quick look about, but couldn’t see who was behind the door the Major wished to have kept open. Tobias had intentionally stayed on the backside of the door, not daring to twitch a muscle for he knew she would catch it. Tobias could tell from her uneasy posture that she sensed him, but refused to look around as she spoke to the Major.

You called for me sir?

Tobias spoke as he stepped out from behind the door. It was I who had you summoned.

Mattea spun partially, her hand automatically going to her short blade.

Easy. Tobias spoke softly, hands held up in front of him. The action was two-fold as it showed her he was unarmed and meant her no harm.

Mattea relaxed slightly as she sized him up. Tobias didn’t speak again until after she gave him a quick once over. What Mattea saw let her relax slightly, but as she knew, you never underestimate your opponent and survive.

Tobias stood before her, not a very powerfully built man. Tall, long-limbed. Before all this happened he had, rather proudly, sported a small belly paunch from his job as a teacher and a wife who knew her way around a stove. Had, until he was so rudely recruited by Nalas as a personal servant. His features were rather bookish like most scholars, hands long and slender incurring new calluses with his recent career change. He still managed to retain the air of a gentleman about him even in his current predicament. A characteristic that he found severely lacking in Nalas.

Mattea could tell from his dress that he was a servant, but his carriage and direct eye contact as he spoke to her told her he wasn’t born into this position. The more she studied him the more a small mental itch pricked at her memory until it came to her. Tobias saw the look of recognition passed over her face. His gaze changed from benevolent to strict, cutting her off before she spoke.

Mattea still managed to blurt out You’re. before Tobias cut her off.

Yes, I’m Nalas’ man servant. You met me at the mountain fortress in the training chamber Remember? His eye contact, direct and unwavering. His look was a quick read and she followed his lead. He did not wish to be identified as her former teacher and it didn’t take a sledgehammer to tell her why.

Yes. I remember. Mattea’s face relaxed for a second before remembering her sparring session with Nalas. A wary look tightened her jaw as she remembered Nalas’ face plant onto the arena floor. I also didn’t stay around very long after we got done sparring or…If you remember.

Nalas remembers as well and wishes to see you.

Why? Is he angry with me?…

Oh quite the contrary. He was very; shall we say; intrigued with you… He let that sink in for a moment before continuing. He wishes to enlist your services.

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