The Elven Chronicles

Episode Three

The Fugitive Bride

 

Chapter 12  Erallendria

 

Ralasharia and Honoria barely survived the next day.  The draining of their life force by the Grotharg shaman left them so weak they could barely place one foot in front of the other.  That and the fact that a late autumn snowstorm decided to pay them a visit nearly finished them off.  The snow came down in thick flurries that completely obscured all visibility.  It chilled them to the bone and the only thing that saved their lives was the fact that the Grothargs decided to set up camp early because of the snowfall.  Numb from the cold, their feet bruised and bleeding, and exhausted beyond anything she had ever expected possible, Honoria stumbled to the ground too beaten to go any further.  Only some stubborn will to live had allowed her to make it as far as she had and now that she had been allowed to stop she knew she could not get up and move again.

 

Ralasharia was not much better.  Laden with chains her every footstep must have been sheer agony.  But the Elven warrior gave no indication of the pain and exhaustion she must have been suffering.  However, when the order to halt came, she collapsed alongside Honoria and lay like one dead, ignoring the fact that she was lying in a hollow full of melting snow.

 

Seeing her fried so defeated moved Honoria to one more effort to help her companion, but she fell back after barely crawling one foot.  “How can the shaman take anything from us now?” she wondered.  “We have nothing left.”

 

“We have one thing left,” Ralasharia answered.  “Our bodies.”

 

Honoria realized that she must have voiced her thought aloud.  But at first Ralasharia’s answer confused her.  The shaman had already taken pretty much everything he could from their bodies.  They had nothing left except…  The implications of that last thought hit her with full force and her mind recoiled in horror.  That would mean…  No.  She could not accept the fact that she and Ralasharia had been forced to walk to the point of collapse just so they could be cut up and become part of some Grotharg stew pot.

 

Unfortunately the gruesome thought was confirmed within the hour.  The shaman approached followed by his usual retinue.  He looked at them, filled with the energy he had stolen from his two cringing victims, his body straight and strong, and his yellow eyes no longer glazed rheum.  He spat on the ground at Honoria’s feet.  “Weak Human bitch.  Feeble Elf.  You no longer any use.  Tonight I take last of Human and Elf magic.”  He gestured and a couple of bitches took hold of each of the heroines.  They were not particular careful about how they transport their “meat” taking each of them by the heels and dragging the two women alone the ground. 

 

“This is it,” Honoria thought.  “After all I’ve suffered now I am to be butchered.  She could only hop that it would not be too painful.

 

“Eeeeaaaggghhhh!” the scream was inhuman and so loud it threatened to rupture Honoria’s eardrums.  The bitch dragging her dropped her feet and covered her ears. 

 

She had just enough energy to raise her head.  What she saw amazed and frightened her.  The shaman was waving his harms wildly as she staggered forward the shaft of an arrow jutting from his chest.  The arrow had penetrated almost up to the fletchings and as the shaman staggered forward he turned in a complete circle and Honoria saw that the arrow had gone right through his body and out the other side.

 

The thargs around him; those who were supposed to protect him ran wildly in all directions.  From seemingly out of nowhere, more arrows arrived.  Two more caught the shaman and in spite of his renewed vigour he staggered and fell, dropping almost at Honoria’s feet.  His death, and the continued arrival of more arrows from out of the snowstorm, resulted in complete panic.  The Grothargs broke, both the thargs and the captive bitches running for their lives.  Within minutes all that was left of the Grotharg encampment were the bodies of the dead and the two exhausted women.  Then from out of the snowstorm emerged shadowy shapes. 

 

The first of these was a creature so like Ralasharia that Honoria knew they had to be related.  From beside her came a strained exclamation: “Erallendria!”

 

The Elf warrior stopped, eyes of icy grey looking past Honoria.  Her mouth twitched.  “Sister!” she exclaimed.

 

They might almost have been twins, except that where Ralasharia’s hair was fiery red, Erallendria’s was midnight blue.  Other than that they were almost identical, with the same height and physique.  The major difference was that in dress Erallendria favoured red where Ralasharia had favoured black.  Erallendria had the same wings-and-quiver framework strapped to her back, but the wings were dyed a brilliant crimson, tinged with black.  The straps crisscrossing between her breasts and the leather of her boots were dark brown.  The skirt dangling from her slender hips was a shade of red similar to the wings.  In her gloved hands she cradled a bow, an arrow nocked to its string.  As with Ralasharia she seemed completely oblivious when it came to covering her body, her uncovered breasts swaying slightly as she moved. 

 

From behind the Elf emerged several other figures.  One of them, striding of the whirling snow, took Honoria’s breath away.  Tall, broad-shouldered, with piercing blue eyes he might have been a demi-god for all Honoria knew.  Bare-chested, he wore tight-fitting trousers that emphasized his narrow waist and muscular thighs, and tight backside.  His long white-blonde hair was tied in place by a red band that circled his forehead.  Eyes of the most brilliant blue swept over her before settling on Ralasharia.  Honoria experienced a twinge of jealousy as he stepped forward and with Erallendria knelt by the Elven maiden’s side.  Other figures came out of the whirling snow and suddenly Honoria felt gentle hands lifting and carrying her. 

 

She was carried by the Elven warriors to a place where a small shelter had been erected.  In front of the shelter was a roaring campfire that defied all efforts of the falling snow to diminish the flames.  She was laid on a carpet of spruce boughs and some typically gauzy Elven covering was placed over her.  Reviving warmth pulsed through her veins.  Beside her Ralasharia was laid on an identical bed of boughs while her sister and several other Elves crowded into the tent.  She experienced again the power of Elven medicine.  Within a very short time she was feeling strong enough to sit up, but the female Elf tending her pushed her back.  “Lie still,” the Elf said.  “Give yourself time to heal.  You will be brought food and drink soon.  And then you may sit up.”

 

Nearby Erallendria was tending similarly to Ralasharia, while the strikingly handsome male Elf hovered over her and held her hand.  He murmured quietly to her and once again Honoria felt the knife of jealously twist inside her.  But she forced down the emotion, reminding herself that she should rejoice at her Elven friend’s good fortune in having so handsome a suitor. 

 

As the Elf who had tended her had promised, food and drink were brought and Honoria was helped into a sitting position.  She felt well enough to do it herself, but her Elven saviours insisted on helping her.  Ralasharia was also helped up.  She still wore the iron bands that the Grothargs had paced around her wrists and ankles, but the silver chain that had limited her powers ha been removed as had the chains that limited her movements.  As the food was brought Erallendria rolled a log into position and used it as a stool so that she could more comfortably speak with Ralasharia.

 

“Well, big sister,” Erallendria grinned.  “You led us on a merry chase.  But I see we got here in time.”  She glanced toward Honoria.  “I am surprised to find you with a human, but nothing you do should really surprise me.”

 

“This is Honoria, Princess of Sallia and Duchess of Magdoran,” Ralasharia said.  She seemed somewhat subdued in spite of her rescue and reunion with her sister. 

 

“Peace, sister,” Erallendria said, touching Ralasharia lightly on the shoulder.  “You will soon be put right.”

 

“Some things cannot be put right,” Ralasharia said, her eyes filling with tears.  “I was dishonoured and led the Princess Honoria into a life of enslavement and brutality.”

 

“You saved my life,” Honoria interjected, “and served as an example of bravery and sacrifice.  I would be dead or worse if not for you.”

 

“I see the Princess is as noble in nature as she is in birth,” another voice commented.  Honoria turned her head to see the golden-haired male Elf watching her.  Warmth spread through her body, centred in her loins and radiating to the rest of her anatomy.  She blushed that she should have such feelings about a complete stranger, and one promised to another at that.  Her obvious embarrassment, however, only made her flush more deeply until she was sure she was glowing like a hot coal. 

 

“Keldar” laughed Erallendria.  “Look what you have done to the poor princess.  Show some mercy and give her a chance to recover.  You don’t have to romance every beautiful woman you lay eyes upon.”

 

“I must apologize for my brother,” Erallendria continued, turning to Honoria.  “He simply cannot control himself when he sees an attractive woman.”

 

Unconsciously, Honoria’s arm moved to cover her breasts.  In spite of the fact that none of the other women present had any sort of breast covering, she could not overcome her Honoria cultural conditioning.  Keldar laughed at her reaction.  “Ah, Princess,” he said.  “You should not hide that which gives me such pleasure to observe.” 

 

Honoria was completely smitten and the revelation that Keldar was Ralasharia’s brother rather than a prospective suitor left her emotionally overwhelmed.  She could not help griming like and idiot or staring at the handsome Elf like some love struck serving girl, instead of the woman of noble birth she was supposed to be. 

 

“Get away from the girl,” Erallendria said, tossing a handful of snow in his direction.  She is supposed to be resting and your presence has obviously not contributed to her healing.” 

 

Keldar bowed to Honoria.  “I apologize, Princess.  I will leave you to heal.  Perhaps I may be allowed to look in on you when you have fully recovered.”

 

”I also must apologize for my brother,” Erallendria said as Keldar walked away.  Honoria could barely keep her eyes off him, but tore her gaze away and tried to control the rapid beating of her heart. 

 

“I am afraid that like most men he thinks with a part of his body that is quite distant from his head,” Erallendria continued.  “I will do my best to see that you are not bothered unduly by him.”

 

Honoria wanted to assure Erallendria that she would not be in any way offended by Keldar’s attention, but held her piece.  It was bad enough that she was affected this way by the handsome Elf’s presence without making herself look completely foolish.  Other than what she had learned from Ralasharia she knew nothing about Elven culture.  It would be most unseemly for her to become involved with a member of a society completely outside hers.  However, as she watched Keldar disappear into the snowstorm she couldn’t help hoping that the Elven warrior would keep his word and pay her the visit he had promised.

 

It snowed for two days, and the Elves seemed content to stay right where they were, in spite of the fact that they were deep in Grotharia.  “The snow will conceal us,” Erallendria said.  “Even the Grothargs do not go out in weather like this.  We are safe enough.”

 

By the second day Honoria and Ralasharia were recovered enough from their ordeal to rise from the spruce bough beds.  “Time for a proper bath,” Ralasharia said.  “Being wiped down with a cloth doesn’t substitute.”

 

“Where are we going to find a place to bathe around here?” Honoria asked.  “Oh no, you don’t mean…”

 

Ralasharia didn’t answer; she simply led Honoria through the snow to the stream where the Grotharg bitches had almost drowned her.  Honoria suddenly felt weak and her knees buckled as she remembered what had happened to her during and after that occasion.  Suddenly there was a touch at her elbow and Erallendria was there.  “Come,” she said.  “You must not fear to face your memories.  The Grothargs are no longer here.”

 

With Erallendria’s help she made it to the pool, but now she faced another barrier.  “I can’t go in there,” she said, looking at the cold dark water.  “I’ll freeze.”

 

“Ha,” Ralasharia scoffed.  Without waiting to see what Honoria would do she stripped off her clothing and plunged into the pool.  She was immediately followed by several other Elves, both male and female. 

 

Honoria still hesitated.  The Elves’ casual display of their bodies was something she had not gotten used to in spite of her association with Ralasharia and she stood on the bank watching as the Elf splashed in the water.  Not even when Erallendria stripped off her clothing did she follow, and then there was a deep voice at her elbow.  “Come, I’ll help you in.” 

 

Her knees almost buckled again when she saw that it was Keldar, but this time it was not from fear, but something else she could not exactly define.  The Elf warrior was, as in the case of all the Elven males she had seen, wearing only skin-tight deerskin breeches along with a golden band on his left arm and a golden torque around his neck.  “Come,” he prompted again, guiding her close to the pool.

 

“It’s too cold,” Honoria protested.  “I can’t go in there.”

 

“Did not my sisters give you any meadoc to drink?” 

 

“I have had only the usual Elven fare,” Honoria replied. 

 

“Sometimes those two have a bit of a cruel streak.  Here, drink this.”  He held out a small leather flask.

 

Honoria took the flask and put it tentatively to her lips.  Warmth surged through her.  So much warmth that in spite of the cool air she broke out into a sweat.  “Now,” Keldar grinned, as he stripped off his clothing, ‘you will need to bathe to cool off.”  He plunged into the pool, giving Honoria more than a glimpse of his male attributes.  She found herself colouring, and as more Elves doffed their clothing and joined the bathers, she found herself standing stupidly on the stream bank while the others bathed. 

 

“Come in, Princess,” Keldar shouted, rising from the water.  Honoria quickly looked away, but she had caught a glimpse of the area between his waist and thighs, and his manly wand seemed little affected by the frigid water.  Certain that by now she must be glowing, and sweating as it was the warmest of summer days, Honoria shrugged out of her clothing and stepped into the water. 

 

Keldar immediately splashed water over her prompting an immediate response from Ralasharia and Erallendria.  The other Elves joined in and for a few minutes a fierce water fight ensued which Honoria quickly joined.  Finally, laughing, and gasping she escaped into deeper water.  Once there she marvelled at the fact that although she had almost died the time that the Grotharg bitches had forced her into the water, this time the bath was merely exhilarating.  The water tingled against her skin, but she found it invigorating rather than numbing.  Ducking her head she tried to get her hair as clean as she could before exiting the pool.  She waited until Ralasharia and Erallendria had climbed out, water streaming from their long limbs, before exposing her body to the eyes of the other Elves, hoping that she would not be noticed, but Keldar spotted her at once.  Arising from the pool, water dripping from his long, golden, and other parts of his anatomy he joined his sisters, but his eyes were fixed on Honoria.

 

Suddenly, in spite of the cold air on her body she felt as if she was on fire, especially between her legs.  She dressed hurriedly, not even bothering to dry her more than damp skin.  Her condition was something that did not go unnoticed by Ralasharia.  Shooing the grinning Keldar away she asked: “Did my sister not give you a ward to guard against Keldar’s magic?”

 

“I know of no such ward,” Honoria panted.  Even though Keldar had moved a respectable distance away, she was having great difficulty keeping her eyes off him as he pulled on his breeches. 

 

“Erallendria!” Ralasharia called.  “You are remiss.  Why did you not ward the Princess against Keldar?”

 

“Ah,” Erallendria replied.  “In all the excitement I forgot that she would not be protected.  I will fashion one at once.” 

 

“I don’t understand,” Honoria said.  “What is this ‘ward?’”

 

All Jauntaur have some level of magic,” Erallendria explained.  “With Ralasharia it is control over fire.  With me it is the ability to heal.  With Keldar… Well let’s just say that Keldar exudes a certain magnetism that draws women to him.  All of the women in our tribe are warded against him, otherwise he’d have to fight them off with a stick.”

 

“Even you wear this ward?” Honoria asked. 

 

“Well no,” Erallendria grinned.  “Ralasharia and I and have a natural ward against him.  He is our brother.” 

 

Honoria returned the smile and accepted the tiny silver pin Erallendria handed her.  “This will do it?” she asked dubiously. 

 

“It works for everyone else.”

 

Honoria secured the silver pin to her tunic.  By this time Keldar was nowhere to be seen, having disappeared into the falling snow.  She was almost a little disappointed in that now she would not be able to test her ward.  However, the cold bath had helped her work up an appetite and at Erallendria’s suggestion she headed back to the campfire to help prepare a meal. 

 

Today it was rabbit stew along with some leftover venison.  The Elves seemed have no difficulty getting as much game as they needed, but she noticed that they seemed to hunt only just enough.  There was no excessive feasting as was common among Humankind.  From somewhere one of the Elves had gathered some wild onions and Honoria set to peeling them and tossing them into the pot.  It was a job that she would never have considered doing as a princess, but in the Elves’ egalitarian society it seemed only natural.  She was halfway through the process when Keldar showed up. 

 

He had obviously been hunting, a deer slung over one shoulder.  He flashed her and his two sisters his usual boyish grin and tossed the deer on the ground.  Taking out his knife he immediately began to butcher the animal, cutting the meat into strips and hanging it over the fire to cure.  “We’ll probably leave tomorrow,” he explained.  “It doesn’t pay to sit in the middle of Grotharia for too long, especially since the Grothargs know we are here.  We can take this meat with us just in case we don’t have time to hunt or game proves to be scarce.”

 

Honoria simply gaped at him.  When he finished speaking she realized that she hadn’t heard a thing he had said.  He body was suddenly clammy with sweat, and her heart was beating so fast that she feared it might jump out of her chest.  She was also experiencing a powerful sensation in a lower area of her anatomy.  

 

Ralasharia noticed it first.  “Honoria, what is the matter?  Are you ill?”

 

Honoria felt skin burn crimson.  She felt like she needed to plunge back into the frigid bathing pool.  “It’s…”It’s nothing,” she muttered. 

 

Ralasharia took her arm and led her a few steps away.  “What is wrong?” she asked.  “Tell me.”

 

Honoria flushed.  “Your ward isn’t working,” she murmured. 

 

For a second the redheaded Elf just stared at her.  And then a slow look of understanding spread over her face.  “I think I know what is wrong,” she said.  “Wait here I’ll get Erallendria.”

 

She returned with her sister within moments.  Erallendria took a long hard look at Honoria.  By this time the princess was trembling and had to sit down.  Slowly the Elven healer smiled.  She knelt beside Honoria and took her hands in hers.  “There’s nothing wrong with you,” she said.  “And nothing wrong with the ward.”

 

“What is it them?” Honoria asked.  “I feel so strange.”

 

Erallendria turned her head to look at Keldar.  “The ward only protects you against the magic of Keldar’s animal magnetism, but there is one thing it cannot protect you against.”

 

“What is that?” Honoria asked.

 

Erallendria grinned.  “True love.”

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