The
Elven Chronicles
Episode
Three
The
Fugitive Bride
Chapter
15 The Throne of
Fire
For sheer horror and despair
the next few hours rivalled any ordeal Honoria had yet
experienced. She was dragged
behind her Goblin captors, her bare feet soon cut and bruised from the harsh
surface of the Demonlands. She
was exhausted both physically and mentally, but forced to go on by her cruel
captors. Goblins trailed behind
her, applying their lead-weighted whips liberally to her buttocks whenever
she faltered and those in front dragging her forward like a dog on a
leash.
Bewildered and bereft of
hope, she mechanically placed one foot in front of the other, hardly noticing
where she was being taken.
Fortunately for her lacerated feet, much of the way was over a well
worn trail that had evidently seen thousands of Goblin
feet. She was allowed to stop
and rest only twice, although at each stop water was offered to
her. It was warm and tasted of
sulphur, but she gladly emptied the crude leather
cup. And then she was jerked
to her feet and her ordeal continued.
In the background the fire mountain continued to rage, but not as
vigorously as before.
The Goblins chattered constantly
as they moved, many of them probably insults and taunts aimed at their captive,
but as Honoria understood none of the Goblin tongue most of them were
wasted. However, the Goblins
had other ways of getting their messages across, most of which filled Honoria
with horror and disgust. Their
favourite was to grab their outsized phalluses and waggle them at her most
suggestively. Others who were
more subtle made a movement with their fingers signifying
intercourse. There was nothing
Honoria could do except pretend not to see them, but their gleeful cackling
let her know that they knew they had made their point.
The heat and the ordeal
of the forced march taxed her strength to the point of
collapse. She was staggering,
barely able to stand when she came across a sight she would never
forget. It was a spectacular
natural bridge, arching across a river of molten
rock. The flow of the red hot
liquid stone was almost mesmerizing and Honoria would have liked to stop
and take in the incredible panorama, but the Goblins pulled her across, jerking
on the rope when she hesitated.
It was just as well that
she was not allowed to stop. The
heat rising from the river was stifling in spite of the fact that it lay
several hundred yards below the highest point of the
bridge. By the time she reached
the other side she was about at the end of her strength, but the Goblins
had no plans to let her rest. She
was dragged onto a level area on the other side of the
bridge. Before her stood a large
opening in the side of a rocky cliff.
It appeared that the Goblins had finally reached their
destination.
They dragged the enervated
Honoria through the opening and she found that it was not the entrance to
a cave as she had thought but an opening into a large natural
amphitheatre. Like the rest of
the Demonlands it was raw black rock and at its centre was a sight that almost
tore her apart. In the middle
of a large open space was a raised stone platform and hanging in chains against
large stone pillars were Ralasharia, Erallendria, and
Keldar. They had all been stripped
and from the marks upon their bodies badly beaten, perhaps even
tortured. They raised their heads
listlessly as Honoria was dragged toward them, their eyes widening as they
saw her being dragged into the room.
At that moment the biggest
Rock Goblin Honoria had ever seen interposed itself between her and her helpless
companions. It grinned up at
her from its height of about four and a half
feet. “Another one,”
it hissed. It spoke in the Elvish
tongue, no doubt for her benefit, not realising that she was not an
Elf. However, by now Honoria
had been with the Elves long enough to have picked up the rudiments of their
language. Although the Goblin’s
accent was abysmal she could make out what it was saying.
“Yes,” the Goblin
continued, reaching up to touch her face.
“This one is pleasing to
Ragzhak. Very
pleasing. We will place her with
the others.”
He scampered beside her
as she was dragged toward the stone platform and the circle of
pillars. “Oh yes, this one
is very pretty. Pretty as the
other two. Look
strong. We will
see. We see if she strong as
other two,”
Honoria found Ragzhak’s
comments and the way he looked at her,
terrifying. She had even more
cause to be frightened as she was dragged past the other
captives. The thighs of the two
female Elves were coated with blood.
It was apparent that they had been savagely raped and probably more
than once. Both women were hanging
from their chains, apparently unable to stand, their heads hanging in shame
and misery.
Ragzhak caught the direction
of her glance and cackled with glee as Honoria was brought to a halt in front
of the pillar next to Keldar.
“They very satisfying.
Very good for fucking.
Strong; not die like female Goblin.”
Honoria had been trying
not to look at Ragshak’s immense
phallus. Like those of his brethren
it was in a permanent state of rigidity and was as long and thick as her
forearm. Given the size of the
Goblin females Honoria had seen it was clear what he
meant. She couldn’t remember
seeing one taller than twenty inches.
Almost certainly being taken by Ragzhak would be
fatal. Honoria felt sick when
she realized that both Erallendria and Ralasharia had probably been victims
of the Goblin’s depraved sexual urges.
Her wrists were unbound
and her arms raised over her head.
Honoria was too weak to resist and heavy iron manacles were clamped
on her wrists and then hoisted upward, hauling her arms over her
head. She stood with her back
against the pillar, her feet flat on the floor facing
Ragzhak.
He reached out and lifted
her breasts, gripping them tightly in his three-fingered
hands. “Yes, very
nice. Big titties like other
Elves. You scream like other
Elves when Ragzhak fuck you?”
Honoria stood and waited,
making no attempt to answer the Goblin’s disgusting
question. She was too beaten
to offer even a token resistance as Ragshak ran his hands over her body only
gasping slightly as her pinched her
nipples.
“You not much fun,”
Ragzhak said sulkily. “Why
you not say anything? You too
afraid of Ragzhak to speak?”
He tightened his grip, pinching and twisting her
breasts.
That got a response, but
not the one the Goblin wanted.
Somehow finding a reserve of strength, Honoria kicked out, catching
the Goblin between his legs.
Ragzhak shrieked in pain, writhing on the stone platform in front
of her clutching his bruised gonads.
Gradually regaining control,
the Goblin leaped to his feet.
“You pay for that Elf cunt.
Ragzhak make you pay. Fuck
you ‘til you scream.”
Moving to the end of the
chain holding Honoria’s wrists he slacked it off about two feet, allowing
her wrists to be lowered to shoulder
level. Then he signalled several
other Goblins who were standing by and they rushed forward and grabbed
Honoria’s ankles. Pulling
her away from the pillar they lifted her legs, throwing all of her weight
onto her arms, and then they stretched her out at the same time pulling her
legs apart.
Honoria fought as best she
could, attempting to wrench her legs free, but her ordeal had left her too
weak to offer much resistance, and there were four or five smaller Goblins
on each leg. Collectively they
pulled her legs apart leaving her wide open to Ragzhak’s
predation.
Honoria bit back a scream
of terror as Ragzhak moved between her
thighs. He was impossibly huge,
a terrifying phallic nightmare whose only purpose was to satisfy his carnal
desires while inflicting maximum pain on his
victim.
“Now Ragzhak make you
scream,” he grinned. He
moved forward, sadistically taking her slowly, giving her time to adjust
to the huge size of his Goblin cock.
Honoria clenched her teeth but a moan escaped her lips as the bulbous
tip if his phallus touched her vulva and then slowly parted it, forcing its
way into her tight vagina.
“It
won’t fit,”
she
thought. Nothing that big could
fit inside her. It would tear
her apart. She clenched her vaginal
muscles attempting to bar the way to her garden of pleasure, but Ragzhak
was too strong. The rounded tip
of his cock slipped between the lips of her
vulva. He grunted with the effort,
working his way into her, beating down her desperate defences, penetrating
her a quarter of an inch at a time.
Honoria whimpered as the huge organ parted her tight vagina each thrust
taking him deeper and deeper until her defences were breached and she twisted
her body in pain. But there was
no escaping her brutal fate. Held
by a dozen hands, and with Ragzhak gripping her hips with his clawed fingers,
she was subjected to a savage and painful invasion, one that she endured
with only the sound of her laboured breathing until the Goblin penetrated
to the neck of her womb. And
then the sheer size of his member and the brutal pain of the rape overwhelmed
her. She screamed, and kept on
screaming, the sound echoing off the rock walls that surrounded the stone
platform.
“You tight cunt like
other Elves,” Ragshak gasped.
“But I break you down.”
He was straining hard, grunting like a pig as he thrust into
her. But now that he had his
cry of pain he began to fuck her more slowly, moving in and out of her with
long leisurely strokes that were still agonizingly painful, and then gradually
increasing his speed as she adjusted to his huge size and the blood of her
bleeding vagina acted as a lubricant.
Blood ran down Honoria’s
thighs dripping onto the stones of the platform, but the Goblin kept up the
savage rape ignoring her agonized
screams. But almost worse than
the violent rape was the thought that just yards away Keldar was watching
helplessly, her Elven lover forced to witness the brutal violation and
degradation of the woman he loved.
It left Honoria wishing that the Goblins had killed her instead of
taking her prisoner.
Ragzhak thrust hard, taking
her deeper than any previous penetration, and then leaning as far forward
as he could, sank his fangs into Honoria’s left
breast. He bit hard and then
raked his teeth down her chest, scoring her breast from just below her collarbone
to her nipple. While Honoria
cried out in agony he moved his head and did the same with the right
breast.
His raised his head, blood
dripping from his lips. “You
kick Ragzhak. No you pay for
that.” He lowered his head
again, this time sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of her
belly. Honoria gave an ear-splitting
shriek. He senses whirled, black
spots flashing in front of her eyes.
The Goblin was killing her.
She could no longer endure the horrid
ordeal. As pain and exhaustion
overwhelmed her she slipped into another world.
There was a wrenching pain
as if her back and shoulders were being torn apart and then she was floating
– no, not floating hovering, borne up on powerful white
wings. She soared high above
the black and broken surface of the Demonlands, above the poison of the smoking
fumaroles and the poisonous boiling
springs. And then still higher,
above fiery summit of
But something was
wrong. As she swept over the
battlements and circled the towers of the fortress she saw that the royal
banners signifying the presence of the king and queen were
gone. In their place was the
black and gold of Magdoran. Honoria
felt a thrill of fear. Had something
happened to her parents? And
why was the banner of her dead husband flying from the castle’s
towers?
She dropped lower and floated
through one of the high windows
of the throne room. There, seated
where the king and queen should have been was the man she had thought dead
by her own hand, her husband, the Duke of
Magdoran. He wore the royal robes
of her father and on his head was the coronet that was worn on less formal
occasions. A man clad in heavy
chain mail armour stood at the foot of the throne and another wearing the
robes of a courtier stood to one side.
“Speak, Sir Diladan,”
the Duke said. “Have you
tracked the remaining rebels to their lair?”
“I have, sire,”
the knight answered. We have
the rebels trapped near the hunting lodge of the former
king. There is no
escape. I thought perhaps you
might wish to be in on the kill.”
“It would be
fitting,” the Duke answered.
“A final demonstration of the uselessness of resistance to my
kingship.”
“Perhaps, sire, it
is time to consider eliminating King Edgan,” the courtier
suggested. “He and the queen
have been guests in the tower room long
enough. It is time to remove
them and put an end to them as symbols of
resistance.”
“I agree in
principle,” the Duke replied, “but I find them convenient
hostages. And I am leery of the
notion that a king can be executed.
It might set a dangerous
precedent.”
Although Honoria was in
full view of the speakers, they were oblivious to her
presence. She hovered just over
their heads able to listen to everything they said and their conversation,
already worrisome, took an ugly turn.
“Perhaps, however,
an accident could be arranged,” the robed figure
suggested. “Perhaps a fall
from the tower window while trying to escape.”
Duke Indgar
smiled. It was an expression
so unpleasant that it made Honoria’s skin
crawl. It brought back a flood
of unpleasant memories. “Now
I know why I keep you around, Similon.
The idea is simple and foolproof.
No one will be able to connect me with such an accident, especially
if I am not here when it happens. I
will go with Dilidan to crush the rebels.
Wait until I am a half day’s ride and then see to the
accident.” He rose from
the throne her father had once occupied and strode from the
room. The vision faded and Honoria
found herself being swept back the way she had
come.
What she returned to was
a scene straight out of her vision of
perdition. Below her was a bizarre
and gruesome tableau. Four figures
were chained to tall rock pillars while demon-like creatures danced around
them. One of them, a dark-haired
young woman, appeared to be unconscious, blood trickled from several ugly
wounds on her breasts and belly, pooling at her feet and dribbling into grooves
cut into the rock platform supporting the
pillars. Two of the others, a
man and a woman, appeared to be in a state of
shock. They hung listlessly from
their chains, the cuts bruises and burns on their bodies indicating that
they had been beaten and tortured.
The other figure, a beautiful blue-haired woman was being cruelly
used, a huge demon-like creature between her
legs. The thing was pumping
vigorously into its helpless victim ignoring her cries of pain and desperate
attempts to twist free.
Anger surged through her
as she watched the hideous spectacle.
Anger and a feeling of complete helplessness as she realized that
there was nothing she could do.
Is
that true, Honoria? Are you going
to do nothing to save your friends from rape and
torture? Will you not even attempt
to save yourself? You now have
the power.
“What
are you?”
Honoria
responded.
“How
can you be speaking to me?”
I
am the guardian of the Throne of Fire.
You have summoned me with your blood and now your true self is
revealed.
“My
true self?”
Honoria
asked.
“”What
is my true self?”
Look
at yourself, Honoria. Look at
what you have become.
Honoria looked at her
body. Her nude flesh was outlined
in a silvery light. Above her
left breast the strange wing-shaped birthmark shimmered above the rose pink
of her nipple. But the most dramatic
change, although one that she could not see properly, were the enormous wings
that sprang from between her shoulder
blades. They measure at least
five times the span of her outstretched arms and gleamed silvery
white.
You
are a seraph, Honoria. Endowed
with the power of holy fire. Your
blood and your pain has freed your gift.
Now you must learn to use it.
“But
how?”
Honoria
wondered. But there was no
answer. She could no longer feel
the presence of the guardian.
Whatever she was to do she would have to do on her
own. Even as that thought struck
home she felt herself being pulled back into her
body. A wave of pain almost
overwhelmed her as she once again became
flesh. But she hung onto a
thread. Deep inside her was a
core of light that had somehow been
released.
She reached within her ethereal
body searching for the key and suddenly found
it. Deep within her was a core
of silver light. She realized
with sudden insight that it had always been there, she had simply not known
how to release it. Now she drew
down into it and brought it up in a surge of power.
Pain filled Erallendria’s
tortured body. The thrusts of
the Goblin chief lifted her quivering body as he sank his massive shaft to
the hilt. Beside her Honoria
hung unconscious, a mercy considering the brutal rape she had
experienced. Ralasharia
was still conscious, but just barely.
Her savage violation had left her unable to stand, and she hung limply,
her full weight supported on the shackles that clamped her
wrists. Keldar had endured the
brutal indignities heaped on him without a sound, but Erallendria knew that
seeing his sisters and lover barbarically ravished was worse than any physical
pain. And the Goblins had hardly
even started on them. She grunted
again as the Goblin buried himself within her.
The second rape was worse
than the first; much worse. She
had thought she might be prepared for it after the first horrible ordeal,
but the invasion of her swollen love tunnel was
excruciating. The Goblin sank
his clawed hands into her flanks, scoring her tender
flesh. He was driving into her
so hard that he seemed to attempting to drive his fearsome shaft right through
her womb. As he sank his fangs
into her right breast she screamed and cried out to the Goddess for
protection.
“No one save you,”
the Goblin cackled. “Ragshak
fuck you ‘til you die. Will
take many days. Keep you alive
‘til body gives out, then eat your
flesh.” He bit even harder
as he finished speaking, forcing a piecing shriek of anguish from her
lips.
Close to fainting from the
pain, her vision blurred, the nightmare world of the Demonlands
dimming. Also dimming was the
hope that had brought her to this terrible
end. She had sought to bring
Honoria to her destiny, but the Throne of Fire had proved a cruel
illusion. Honoria’s blood
now soaked the stones of the holy site.
All she had achieved was her death and that of her brother and
sister.
An intense glow blinded
her. It was a light far brighter
than the reddish glare that illuminated the nightmarish
landscape. Ragzhak cried out
in terror, shielding his eyes from the
glare. He stepped back from her,
and scampered away hissing in Goblin rage and fear.
Erallendria forced her eyes
open and beheld an incredible spectacle.
Honoria was no longer chained.
Her fetters lay in ruins as she slowly rose above the altar of the
Throne of Fire, her silver wings outspread.
The Goblins shrieked in amazement
and sudden fear, but only momentarily.
With the courage of numbers they quickly rallied, reaching for whatever
missile weapon happened to be handy, which mostly happened to be chunks of
broken rock.
Swooping over the Goblin
horde, the seraph extended her hands.
Jagged white bolts of lightning shot from her
fingertips. It struck among the
Goblins and leaped from one to the other, leaving smoking corpses scattered
across the broken rock surface.
Screaming in fear, the Goblins
fled, clawing their way over one another in their haste to escape, all but
one. The seraph swept over the
fleeing Goblins and plucked one from the
pack. Ragzhak screamed in terror
as he was swept into the air and carried over a pool of molten
rock. The seraph soared upward,
carried on the thermals rising from the molten
rock. Then a shrieking object
was released from its hands and dispeared in a puff of fire as it struck
the fiery surface. With a beat
of its powerful wings the seraph rose higher and then glided toward the three
chained Elves.
Still stunned by the sudden
turn of events, Erallendria fell as the chains binding her suddenly released,
but Honoria was there to catch her.
She was set gently down on the rock surface while the seraph went
to tend to Ralasharia and Keldar.
In just moments they were freed and placed next to
Erallendria. The seraph hovered
over them, supported by the gentle beat of its
wings. The air generated by the
magnificent wings swirled over the three Elves like a zephyr, cooling their
overheated bodies and doing something else as
well. Erallendria felt a surge
of well-being flow through her tortured body, massaging away her pain and
injuries. A few heartbeats later
Honoria settled beside onto the platform, her wings folding back into her
body.
Shakily, the three Elves
got to their feet, looking at Honoria in something approaching
wonder. “A seraph,”
Ralasharia said. “I never
imagined you would have so powerful a gift.”
“The power to heal
and to destroy,” Ralasharia added.
“It is a gift without equal.
You have been favoured by the Goddess.”
Keldar said nothing, but
the look he gave Honoria was far more eloquent than any
words. She stepped toward him
and moved into the shelter of his arms.
It seemed almost out of character for a being who had demonstrated
such power.
“Perhaps,” the
ever-practical Erallendria suggested, “we should try to find some
clothes.”
Mundane as the suggestion
was considering their miraculous escape, it made good
sense. The three Elves and Honoria
busied themselves looking for anything they could wear in the Goblin
camp. There wasn’t
much. The Goblins had ripped
their clothing from their bodies and had ransacked their packs, tearing apart
what they could not eat. They
had to piece together fragments of clothing, leaving them only enough to
create miniscule loincloths. There
wasn’t even enough to cover their breasts, however, Honoria gave her
few fragments of material to Ralasharia and
Erallendria.
She turned to
Keldar. “I have something
I must do,” she said. “I
saw my parents endangered in a vision.
I must return before it is too late.”
“Then I will go with
you,” he replied.
“You cannot,”
Honoria replied. “I must
go as a seraph otherwise I will not reach them in
time. Do not worry, my love I
will return to you.” She
placed her arms around his neck and kissed him tenderly on the
mouth. Keldar returned her kiss,
but Honoria broke away. “I
must go. There may not be enough
time to save my parents, but I must try.”
“We will wait for you
on the edge of the Demonlands,” Erallendria
said.
Honoria stepped away from
Keldar and called on her power. The
first time she had transformed it had been almost instinctive, guided partly
by her vision and by whatever spirit resided in the Throne of
Fire. This time she completed
the transformation herself. She felt the thrill of power as her magnificent
wings sprang from her shoulder blades.
The wrenching pain was not so severe this
time. Tentatively she flapped
her wings as rose slowly into the air.
Then, gaining confidence she winged her way north, the strength of
her flight increasing with every wing
beat.
Once again she rose high
above the Demonlands, and this time not just in her
imagination. It was amazing how
peaceful everything looked. Even
the stinking sulphurous pools and pits of bubbling rock had a strange beauty
when seen from above. Higher
and higher she moved until she was far above even the majestic heights of
Elibor and then she swept toward her home.
It took her much longer
than in her vision. Even so,
distances that had taken her weeks when she was with the Elves passed beneath
her in just a few hours. By early
evening she was gliding over the forests that bordered her
homeland. She found she was tired,
her wings and back muscles aching from the unaccustomed
strain. She was also ravenously
hungry and very thirsty. Apparently
even seraphs needed to eat and rest.
And so she set her sights on a clearing and coasted to a gentle
landing.
It was only when she reached
the ground that she realized how poorly equipped she was for
travel. She was unarmed, it not
having occurred to her that she might need any sort of weapon, and even worse
she was completely nude. The
effort of flying had kept her warm when she was in the air, but now she found
that the onset of night with its cooler temperatures left her uncomfortably
cold. Unfortunately she had not
seen anything from the air that promised her
shelter.
However, it seemed that
someone might live close by. The
clearing in which she had landed appeared to be too orderly and many of the
trees that remained seemed to have been preserved for their
usefulness. Thus there were several
chestnut trees and a number of hazelnut bushes as well as a single walnut
tree. Unfortunately, it was a
little early in the year for any of the trees and bushes to be bearing anything
that could yet be eaten and Honoria had to make do with searching the ground
for any edible nuts that had not yet spoiled or been claimed by
animals. Here she was in luck
and she was able to gather a handful.
She carried them to a small
stream where she got down on her hands and knees and drank thirstily before
taking up a large pebble from the stream and using it as a hammer to crack
the nuts. She managed a wry smile
as she thought of the spectacle she must
present. Here was, a princess
of Salia, married to one of its great lords, grubbing around on the forest
floor for what the forest had left her.
Still, the nuts helped to take the edge off her
hunger. Now she just had to find
some sort of shelter.
She did not consider continuing
her flight. It would be dark
in less than an hour, and without landmarks to guide her she would have no
way of knowing where she was. As
much as she wanted to fly to the rescue of her parents she would have to
wait until morning. She
would find someplace to sleep, perhaps a pile of leaves if nothing else and
then continue at first light.
“Hoy, who’s been
raiding me trees?”
Honoria almost jumped out
of her skin at the sound of the voice, surprised and a little
embarrassed. To her further surprise
she saw nothing, but the voice seemed to have come from very close
by. “Where are you?”
she asked, her hands moving unconsciously to her breasts and
loins.
“A little too late
for that isn’t it Human? I
have been watching you ever since you
arrived. And I must say that
your appearance is not at all displeasing.”
Honoria looked around the
glade. The voice was high-pitched
and seemed to be coming from directly in front of her, but she still saw
nothing. “I’m sorry
for taking your nuts.”
I didn’t realize
they belonged to anyone and I was very hungry.”
“I should say you would
be. You’re a big girl and
I suspect it takes a lot of energy to move those huge
wings.”
“So,”
Honoria thought,
“whoever this is knows
everything about me. Very mysterious
that he won’t show himself.”
“Are you going to continue
to gawk at a lady from hiding,” she asked “or do I have the right
to see you?”
“I’m right here
if you would choose to look,” the voice
answered. It seemed to be directly
in front of her, but Honoria could see nothing but a thick stand of
hazelnuts.
“Not down there,
ninny,” said the voice.
“Up here.”
There was a movement just
over her head and she looked up to see a tiny figure sitting on the branch
of a massive beech tree, the largest she had ever
seen. It was only about eighteen
inches tall and was dressed in shades that matched the leaves and wood of
the tree, making it almost invisible.
In general appearance it
resembled a very small Elf with the same pointed ears, but there was a hint
of Goblin in it as well, although its narrow face and bright blue eyes were
mischievous rather than malicious.
It also lacked the sharp protruding fangs so common to
Goblins. Its fingers were very
long and slightly wider at the tips than seemed
normal.
“I am the Princess
Honoria,” Honoria said, although she felt quite ridiculous introducing
herself as a princess when wearing nothing but her
skin. “To whom do I have
the honour of speaking?”
Apparently the strange little
Elf thought so too, as it chuckled when it
answered. “A princess,
eh? I certainly cannot tell that
from the way you are dressed, but you certainly speak well enough, and your
entrance was certainly impressive.
Do all princesses have wings where you come
from?”
Honoria felt a moment of
pique that the creature did not know who she
was. After all she was the daughter
of the king. How could the strange
little Elf not know who she was?
But she held her peace and instead explained who she
was. “I come from
here. My father King Edgan rules
Salia.”
“Or
rather he used to,”
she
thought.
“I pay little attention
to the affairs of Humans,” the tiny figure
said. “I am called Gren
and I am a
Jeron.”
“I am glad to meet
you,” Honoria said, “but I have never heard of a
Jeron.”
“We are called other
names by those who know we exist,” Gren
explained. “But we only
reveal ourselves to a very few. You
have aroused my interest. It
is not often that a nude winged angel drops into my
glade. I just have to find out
what you are.”
Honoria
sighed. She was suddenly very
weary. Her long flight had taken
even more out of her than she realized.
“Forgive me. I’m
glad you find me interesting, but I am tired and
hungry. I need to find some place
to rest before it becomes too dark.”
“Hmm,” Gren
mused. “That is easily
solved. You will stay with
me.
Come.”
Gren scampered down the
trunk of the tree like a squirrel, his long fingers finding easy purchase
in the bark. He halted at the
bottom and pressed his hand against one of the roots and suddenly a dark
hole appeared. Gren stood to
one side, a proud smile on his elfin
features. “I will go
first. You
follow.” Without waiting
for an answer he darted into the hole.
Honoria stood staring blankly
after the Jeron. The hole he
had darted into was barely taller than he
was. She would have to enter
on her hands and knees and trust that she would not be trapped in the narrow
space. Hesitantly she crouched
in front of the hole and peered into it.
A dark tunnel descended
beneath the roots of the tree, sloping away at a thirty degree
angle. It smelled strongly of
tree and earth and Honoria felt decidedly uncomfortable at the thought of
having to crawl into it. What
if she got stuck and couldn’t get
out? At that moment, however,
Gren reappeared further down the tunnel.
She could just make him out and realized that he was lit from behind,
which meant that there was a source of light farther down the
tunnel. “What are you waiting
for?” he asked impatiently.
Come on down, there’s lots of room.”
Honoria
swallowed. She had been betrayed
and tricked often during the last few
months. Did she dare trust this
strange creature? Taking a deep
breath she crawled cautiously into the
tunnel.
It was a very narrow fit
and she had to snake her way forward on her elbows until her entire body
was in the narrow tunnel. For
an instant she almost panicked as she became stuck for a few seconds and
had to claw forward, her breasts pressed against the
ground. Her sense of entrapment
increased when the tunnel behind her went dark and she realized that the
hidden door at the base of the tree had closed behind
her. She was now fully underground
with no way of going back. If
the Jeron intended to deceive her she was well and truly
trapped.
Gren suddenly popped up
just in front of her face.
“Hmm, I may have made a mistake about your
size. You’re even fatter
than I thought. But you’re
almost there. Come
on.”
Clenching her teeth, Honoria
inched forward, wishing she had never been so stupid as to accept the invitation
of so strange a being. The light
ahead of her was brighter now and she pushed herself
forward.
“Ah!”
She
gave a sudden cry as the tunnel ended and she rolled down a steep
slope. To her surprise she found
herself in a large room. Large,
that is, by Jeron standards.
Honoria found that she could just sit upright without banging her
head into the roof.
It was clear that she was
directly beneath the large beech.
Large roots framed a small cavern, some four yards across and a little
more than a yard high. However,
it was what was in the cavern that got her
attention. It was filled with
Jeron, at least a dozen of them.
She couldn’t be quite sure as many of them were in constant
motion. It appeared that Gren
had brought her into the middle of his
family. Blushing furiously, she
instinctively she tried to cover her nudity.
“Oh the poor dear,”
said one of the Jerons, rushing forward.
“Just because she’s so big doesn’t mean that she
hasn’t any feelings. Gren,
you really should know better.”
Upon closer inspection,
Honoria noted that the Jeron who spoke was definitely female and guessed
that she was probably Gren’s wife.
This was confirmed almost immediately by her next
words. “I am Lela and these
be my brood.” She swept
her arm in a circle indicating the numerous smaller Jerons bouncing about
the room. She clapped her
hands. “Children, stop your
carousing and help with the supper.
We’ve got a guest.”
In a surprising display
of obedience the numerous children began to move about in a remarkably organized
fashion, fetching and carrying a variety of utensils and food items, most
of which seemed to consist of nuts along with various herbs and forest
greens.
They dumped the whole lot
into a large soup kettle that was already simmering on a fire set into a
stone fireplace that was built into a cavity in the roots of the
tree. At the same time others
added several sticks of wood, building up the
flames. Honoria noticed that
the smoke went straight up a well-designed chimney that disappeared through
the roof.
Lela dug into a large wooden
trunk set against on of the walls and dragged out a pile of
blankets. “I don’t
have anything that will fit you,” she
said. “But these might be
of some service.”
Honoria accepted them
gratefully. Each was only about
one-quarter the size of a regular blanket; however, by draping them over
various parts of her body she was able to cover most of
herself. Strangely, that simple
act made her feel much better.
Arranging her body as best she could in the cramped space she settled
down to wait.
By the time the soup was
done the Jeron children were giggling at the noise Honoria’s stomach
was making. In the confines of
the underground room the constant rumbling sounded like the turning of a
mill wheel. Eventually, however,
the soup was done to Lela’s satisfaction and selecting the largest bowl
she could find, she ladled a generous portion into it and with some effort
carried it over to Honoria.
There was no spoon large
enough for her so Honoria drank out of the bowl, taking care not to
slurp. To her pleasant surprise
the soup turned out to be very good and she had to remember her manners and
not gulp it down. “This
is the best soup I’ve ever had,” she
remarked.
Lela seemed quite
pleased. “I see you have
the manners of a princess. One
day you will have to tell us how you came to be stranded in the forest without
clothes.”
“She came out of the
sky on great white wings,” Gren
interjected. “I saw her
with my own eyes.”
“My husband sometimes
eats too many fermented berries,” Lela
laughed. “He’s not
to be taken seriously.”
“I haven’t been
near that berry patch for two moons,” Gren
protested. “I had a headache
that lasted a week last time.”
“What Gren says is
true,” Honoria said.
“I would like to tell you
everything, but it is a long story and I am very
tired.”
“Perhaps tomorrow,”
Lela said, eagerly.
Honoria hated to disappoint
the tiny woman, but she didn’t have a choice if she was to save her
parents. “I have something
I must do tomorrow. But I will
return to your glade as soon as I am able, and if you will once again reveal
yourself to me I will tell you all of my
adventures.”
Lela
smiled. “I will have Gren
watch for you every day.”
Honoria curled up on the
floor of the room. Her last thoughts
before she drifted off were of her mother and
father. According to her vision
she still had a day or so to save them.
She just hoped that Duke Indgar had not decided to advance the date
of their murder. His orders had
been to kill her parents when he was a half day’s ride from the castle
and she could only hope that no one decided to move the time
forward.
In spite of her apprehension
and the fact she was cushioned by nothing more than a single blanket, she
slept soundly, no doubt worn out from her exertions and the drama of the
last few days. When she awoke
it was still quiet in the room, except for the tiny snoring sounds of Gren
and his family. Although the
room was lit only by a single tiny candle Honoria sensed that it was near
morning. She sat up stiffly,
reacting to the strain placed on her body by the events of the previous day
and a night spent sleeping on a dirt
floor. She stifled a groan, not
wanting to alarm her hosts, but something she did had all of the Jerons instantly
awake.
“So you’re going
are you?” Lela asked. “I
expect you’ll be off without breakfast
too. Take this
then. It might help a
bit. There is a spring in the
glade where you can get a drink before you leave.”
Honoria looked at what she
had been given. It was brown
and loaf-shaped and about the size of her hand from wrist to finger
tip.
“Baked it for you last
night,” Lela said.
“It’s not much, but it should take the edge off your
appetite.”
“Thank you,” Honoria
said, strangely overwhelmed by this small
kindness. She really didn’t
know what else to say. Lela’s
family had taken her in, fed her, and sheltered her, and they didn’t
even know who or what she was.
“I will come back,” she
said. “I’ll come back
as soon as I can.”
“Go now,” Lela
said. “Complete your
mission. May the Goddess be with
you.”
Honoria nodded, her throat
choking and her eyes misting. She
shrugged off her blankets and ignoring the fact that everyone in the room
was going to have a wonderful view of her hindquarters she turned and crawled
back up the tunnel. Reaching
the end, she found that Gren was already there and had opened the hidden
door.
Outside it was only just
turning light. She emerged into
the greyness of pre-dawn. On
the other side of the clearing was the small spring Lela had spoken
of. She slaked her thirst and
then took a bite of the loaf Lela had given
her. It tasted pleasantly of
nuts and seemed to melt in her mouth.
It sent an instant surge of energy through
her. She ate the rest of it and
washed it down with another drink.
“Thank Lela again for
this,” Honoria said.
“Now I know I can complete my mission.”
Gren
nodded. “Farewell,
Princess. I’ll be holding
you to your promise to return,”
Honoria nodded, focusing
on what she had to do. She would
very much have liked to take a bath, but that could
wait. She called on her power,
hoping that what had happened to her yesterday was not just some cruel dream
and she really was a seraph. To
her relief the power not only came, but came much more
easily. The wrenching pain as
her wings unfolded that had accompanied her first transformation was much
less, almost as if her body was adjusting to the
change.
She flapped her wings once,
testing them, and then brought them down in a powerful sweep that lifted
her twenty feet into the air. With
smooth easy strokes she rose high above the forest, and oriented herself
toward her goal. Off in the distance
she could see a range of mountains with a single snow-capped
peak. Somewhere in that direction
lay the castle she had grown up in and the town that surrounded
it. Swiftly she soared toward
them.
Shortly after sunrise she
picked up a road and altered her course to follow
it. It was little more than a
dirt track leading out of the wilderness, but already there was some light
traffic upon it. Woodcutters
and small farmers were on their way to market, indicating the presence of
a nearby town. She encountered
the town soon after, but not recognizing it, followed the road out of
town.
If anyone noticed her she
was not aware of it. No doubt
from the ground she appeared nothing more than a high-flying
bird. She continued her flight,
following the road until it joined something she
knew. It was the main highway,
the only paved road in Salia, and she knew that it led straight to the
castle. She quickened her speed,
moving her wings much faster. It
was almost mid-morning and by now the Duke’s plan to murder her parents
might be well under way.
The highway passed rapidly
beneath her. She flew over several
towns, one of them quite large. She
recognized it from its walls as Dargan, the second largest town in the
kingdom. Over its battlements
flew the banners of the Duke of Magdoran indicating that the Duke controlled
most of the kingdom. That would
change she resolved, clenching her fists, but first she had to save her mother
and father.
She flew faster, her sense
of urgency driving her on, and finally on the horizon, loomed the battlements
of Huon, the capital of Salia, and the place where she had grown
up. “Mother, Father,”
she murmured please let me be in time.”
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