Bow Before the Elf Queen

Thane barely spoke a word to anyone after he gave the order to return home. Although many of the Ravens tried to make him laugh or get him to converse, he was a drone. Talon begged him to go find a way to save himself, but he stared up at the winking stars unable to muster up the strength to argue with her. Aldrich stayed beside him at all times, watching him carefully. Thane knew his friend worried that at any moment he would try to take his own life. Aldrich knew that was his plan even if he hadn’t spoken it aloud to anyone but Fennan.

Through the bond he felt Layala’s terror the night before. It was the only feeling he had in days. It jolted him from a dreamless sleep. Even after everything he still worried for her, regretted not going if only to spend a few more days with her, to see that she was safe until then. And he knew he was pathetic for wanting that. For wanting her when she clearly and painfully did not want him.

When Castle Dredwich came into view, he turned to Aldrich with a folded piece of paper. “Here are my orders. Upon my death, everything goes to my mother. You are to be the defensive general. Fennan is your second should he return home. You and he will need to lead all military movements, and defend Palenor with everything you have. You are the commander of the Ravens.”

With emotion-filled eyes, Aldrich stared at the paper. “Thane, you can’t do this.”

“Don’t make this harder than it already is.” He shoved his will into Aldrich’s hand.

He gripped Thane’s shoulder. “But you still have a few days. Don’t leave yet. At least say goodbye to your mother.”

“She’ll never let me go. You know that. She’d sooner watch me turn and keep me in a cell hoping to find a cure. There isn’t one.”

Aldrich shed a tear as he jerked Thane into a hug. “Let me come with you.”

“No. I need you here for Palenor. You, Fennan, and Piper are the only ones I trust, and they aren’t here. You must stay.”

Chin quivering, Aldrich nodded. “At the very least give Layala a chance. Wait until the very last moment.” The wetness from his tears seeped into Thane’s shoulder.

“I will.” Before he could change his mind, he pulled away from Aldrich and swung into his saddle. Not meeting the gaze of any of his soldiers, he rode toward Calladira. For days he traveled, only stopping to sleep and eat when he grew weak and shaky. The hunger pains were welcome. It was the only thing keeping the numbness at bay. He thought of taking the portal which would be faster, but he took the long way to the woodland elves’ land. There was no reason to rush into his doom. He promised Piper and Aldrich he’d wait until sunset on the eve before.

The change from Palenor to Calladira was evident by the trees. From sparse pines and ash, an occasional luminor, to thick woods of colorful leaves with trunks three males wide. After a couple days of travel, he was half a mile from reaching their border. The sentries likely already spotted him, but they wouldn’t make a move unless he crossed into their land. There he made camp, waiting to freely walk into the hands of his enemy.

Resting under the heavy foliage of an oak tree, he stared at the horizon, taken by the beauty of the evening golden hour. The yellow orb hanging low in the sky pleasantly warmed the skin of his face. He watched the bees buzzing from flower to flower. He took a deep breath, filling his senses with honeysuckle. He wanted to remember this moment. The calm before the storm. A time he could picture for serenity when he’d need it in his darkest moment. When he closed his eyes, he dozed off to the lullaby of wind bustling among the leaves of the treetops.

It wasn’t long before he heard footsteps, and on instinct drew the dagger from his belt. Three woodland elves in their garb of browns and gold held arrows pointed at his chest. “Well, if it isn’t the scum High King,” the redhead on the left said. “Stepping where he doesn’t belong again.”

“You’re technically on my land,” Thane didn’t move from his sitting position.

“That’s debatable,” said the shorter dark-haired elf in the center. “What are you doing here?”

“I wish to meet with Brunard.”

“It’s Lord Brunard, and weren’t you already informed? He doesn’t want to meet with you. You spit in his face when you entered Calladira unannounced with your female and attacked our soldiers.”

Thane rolled his eyes and slowly rose to his full height. The three elves moved several paces back, to which he smiled at. “I have a feeling your soldiers and I have vastly different accounts of what happened that day. And I know Brunard would be angry with you if you denied him the chance to get back at me.”

The three of them looked amongst each other. “What does that mean?” the red-haired male asked.

“You can either take me to him or I’ll go myself. The choice is yours.” Thane slowly set all his weapons on the ground and stood with his palms up in surrender.

“Is this a trick?”

“Take me to your lord.” He was exasperated at this point. “I won’t harm you. I need to speak to him leader to leader. Things aren’t going well with the pale ones. I came alone for a reason.”

The dark-haired one lowered his bow looking him up and down. “We’ll need to bind your hands.”

“Now that’s not fair, is it? I never required Brunard or any of your emissaries to be bound.” Thane glanced down rubbing his thumb over the calluses on his hand. “Besides we all know I don’t need my hands to cause a ruckus. If I wanted to harm you I’d have done it already.”

“This could be a trap,” the third with a scar across one eye finally spoke. “He did threaten our lord not weeks ago. He might simply want to get close to him.”

“I don’t want to kill Brunard.” Thane walked over to Phantom and patted his shoulder. “This is goodbye, boy. Go home.” He slid the reins over his head leaving him bare. All three of the woodland elves watched him curiously but none spoke. Phantom nickered and pushed his nose into Thane’s hand. “Go home.” He stroked his forehead one last time. Phantom dug his hoof into the dirt and stubbornly waited. Emotion built up in him as Phantom stared with those big brown eyes. It was the first time he felt emotional in days. Why was it so hard to say goodbye to a horse? Harder than it was to leave Aldrich. But Phantom wouldn’t understand why he’d never see Thane again. He looked to the guards. “Bind my hands if it makes you feel better.”

Taking a leather strap from his waist, Scarface tentatively approached Thane. He held out his hands. “Behind your back.” Letting out a sigh, Thane turned and allowed the woodland elf to tie his hands. One took the lead, one stood at his side and the other walked behind him toward Calladira.

They passed through a forest of some of the tallest and widest trees in Adalon. Critters chittered above and birds nested. The leaves were hues of amber, gold, and red with some spots of the brightest green. It smelled of fresh baked bread and cookies. The aroma was from the many gnome holes they passed. Calladira had the largest butterflies he’d ever seen. As large as birds and a rainbow of colors floating about bringing a euphoric feeling as if he wasn’t at the mercy of his enemy.

More guards gathered around them as they passed until there were twenty-two elves in front and behind. “I get my very own procession. How generous of you all.” Thane closely watched the male next to him with a twitchy left hand. He was familiar but Thane couldn’t place him. “Do I know you?”

The blond male cut him a glare. His keen brown eyes held such hatred it had to be personal. “Keep your mouth shut.”

When he spoke it hit Thane. “You were there a few weeks ago when I killed your friends.” That twitchy left hand slammed into Thane’s side, stealing the breath from his lungs. “For a coward, you hit pretty hard,” he wheezed.

“I’m no coward. You are. You had to be saved by that wicked female. That arrow would have pierced your heart.”

“Calling me what I called you, how original.” He wanted to break free of his bonds and punch this elf so hard he wouldn’t remember his own name for calling Layala wicked, for even speaking about her, but he stayed his hand.

The doors and windows in the wide tree trunks, the vegetable and flower gardens told him they’d entered the city. Goats and sheep wandered about grazing on the lush undergrowth of the forest as they went. A group of three female fiddlers played near a large spraying stone fountain. Gathered around them were children laughing and dancing, she-elves twirling in their dresses. Some males clapped and tapped their feet.

“Whose horse is this?” someone from the back called. “He’s beautiful.”

Thane whipped his head around and gritted his teeth when the elf stroked Phantom’s neck, not a guard by the looks of his attire; a farmer. “Do. Not. Touch. My. Horse.” The elf snapped his hand back to his side. Phantom trudged along, pushing through the elves to catch up to his side. “You were supposed to go home.” The horse tossed his head as if he understood but chose to stay faithfully at his side.

Although most of the woodland elves built their homes within the trunks of trees, Lord Brunard had a manor completely covered in deep green foliage. Even the white pillars at the front entrance were wrapped in grapevines with plump purple fruit. The steps to the front doors were cushioned with hundreds of years of moss. It wasn’t even half the size of Castle Dredwich, but somehow it was more magnificent. As if it was made by the hands of nature rather than elf or man. It was an escape, this whole place was, from the evils of Adalon. Especially an escape from the pale ones that the woodland elves had left the high elves to deal with on their own for hundreds of years.

When the front doors were opened to him, Scarface nudged him inside. The walls were painted a simple beige. The chandelier hanging above was made of gold with white blossoms that glowed bright as any candle. The gold crown molding and trim around the doors were ornately carved. This was the first time he’d ever been in these walls decorated in paintings of those in Brunard’s family, both alive and dead. Ahead a long red carpet stretched leading to an open set of stairs. To the left of the stairs was a wide-open archway. Music came from within, a haunting melody that only brought one word to mind: seduction.

“Wait here.” The red-haired elf took a pair of guards with him through that archway. It wasn’t long before they appeared at the entrance. “Brunard will see you.”

Hands still strapped behind his back, he trudged over the red carpet and through that entrance. He paused in surprise. Females wore clothing barely covering their private parts. Strips of fabric that could hardly be called a dress. Several males in red velvet high-backed chairs with one, sometimes two females on their laps. Brunard, the auburn-haired Lord of Calladira had none of the she-elves on his person but his eyes greedily took in their bare flesh. One poured wine into the waiting goblet he held. He took her free hand and kissed it gently. “Thank you, my shining star.”

When his gaze connected with Thane’s, he rose. “Ah, the noble High King Thane comes to me in his last hours. Although I must say you aren’t looking very noble or kingly. Is that blood on your neck? Dirt on your cheek?”

So Brunard knew about Thane’s deadline. He wasn’t surprised that his rival knew. He’d likely been keeping track for years. “We need to talk.”

Brunard arched his dark brow. “The only reason I allowed this visit is because I’m intrigued.” He looked around the room. “Leave us.”

Only one guard stayed behind near the exit with his back to them. Brunard gestured toward a chair. Thane took it and Brunard waited with a sneer on his face. “As you know my contract is up soon.”

“I thought you found your mate?”

“I did.” Thane had no desire to elaborate on that. “I need you to join the fight against the pale ones. If Palenor falls they will be here soon after.”

Taking a sip from his wine, Brunard never took his eyes off Thane. “I heard you almost lost Doonafell. Your father was able to hold your kingdom easily. The great Thane Athayel doesn’t seem so great after all.”

Gritting his teeth, Thane took a steading breath. He couldn’t believe he was about to offer his sister to this arrogant prick, but he knew she could handle her own. “We drove them back. But it is high time you join us instead of fighting against us. This is a problem for all of Adalon. I am sorry I killed your father. I truly am. If I’d had another choice, I wouldn’t have but he would have killed me. It was battle.”

“Why are you truly here, Thane? To beg?”

“I want to offer you marriage to my sister Talon. To secure an alliance. It’s a peace offering.”

Brunard narrowed his eyes. “Your sister… I’m sure she would be quite delicious to bed but as you saw I have plenty of she-elves.”

“This isn’t about who is in your bed. She is the Princess of Palenor. It’s about an alliance between the elves. We are the same. Fight with us.”

“There is no reason for me to believe anything needs to change.”

“I will be dead in two days. What do you think will happen after that? You think my mother can hold the kingdom?” Thane shook his head. “No. She is soft and has no desire to fight. It wouldn’t surprise me if in her grief of losing my father and me so close, she went into hiding and let the kingdom fall within weeks. Right now, I don’t care if you sent an assassin that almost killed… Layala.” It pained him to speak her name aloud.

“I didn’t send an assassin for anyone, let alone one of the only mages in Adalon.”

Trying to gauge him, Thane looked him over. Was he lying? If he hadn’t then who? Where was the broach from?

“Maybe you have a traitor in your midst. Too bad you won’t live long enough to find out.” He paused, setting his mouth into a firm line. “Although, the Black Mage’s spells don’t kill—they turn an elf into a pale one.” The corner of his mouth tugged up. He stood, pulling a knife from his belt. Thane tensed ready to fight. He couldn’t let Brunard kill him yet. “Let me cut those ties. You need a drink.”

Skeptically he stood, trying to judge his rival’s expression. He looked sincere but that meant nothing. Thane rarely trusted anyone outside his close circle but right now he needed to show Brunard that he was genuine. He turned his back to the elf lord and he cut the leather, freeing Thane’s hands.

“You didn’t think I was going to stab you in the back, did you?”

Thane lifted a shoulder, absently rubbing his wrists, and sat once again. As Brunard walked over to a table with several bottles of wine in crystal vases he said, “You remember when we were younger, and our fathers brought us to meet each other. The elven princes of Adalon. You showed me where you trained, and we ate chocolate cake until we were sick.”

“And that time you stole one of my father’s horses in the night. And I, of course, followed you.” Thane smiled at the memory. They’d gotten into quite a bit of trouble as adolescents for only being together on a few occasions.

“Yes. You said it was all your idea, and you took that beating for me.” Brunard chuckled. “Ah the simple days of children. We were friendly once. There’s no reason we can’t be once again, if only for a moment.”

This was what he was hoping for when he came here. That they could put their differences and past sins aside for the greater good. “I need to ask you a favor,” Thane began, with a nervous twist in his gut.

“I thought you already did. Asking me to become allies with your kingdom to keep it from falling into the hands of the pale ones. You know that would mean I would basically rule over Palenor.”

“I do know that.” Thane could hardly stomach the idea, but the woodland elves were happy. The people had always been well taken care of. Brunard wouldn’t let Palenor be destroyed if he ruled over it.

“I’ll need to have your sister agree and sign a binding contract. I won’t have some murderous Athayel in my bed waiting to kill me the first chance she gets.”

“She’ll agree. But this other thing I ask of you. This… this is for me. For an old friend.”

Looking up from the wine he’d poured, Brunard waited.

“I need you to kill me.” He gulped down the sickening feeling rising in his throat. “In two days, before I turn into a pale one. The amount of horror I could cause as one of those creatures is unspeakable. You know I have magic. You’ve seen what I can do, even without it.”

A long time of silence, of Brunard staring at Thane passed. “You’re actually serious,” he finally relented.

“I could do it myself but I fear that my drive for self-preservation could win out in the end.” Thane stood. The nervous energy running through him drove him to stand, to move. “I’ve known elves who’ve committed suicide. They were not mentally stable. They had such deep sorrow that it drove them to death, but I am of sound mind. What if my fear of being a pale one isn’t strong enough?” He paced the room. “I don’t want to die.”

“And what of your mate? Surely, she is the answer to your problem.”

Tears threatened but he blinked them back. “She left me.”

“You would have me believe that this female hated you so much that she would rather die? I don’t believe that for one second.”

“It’s complicated.”

Brunard waved a hand aggressively toward Thane. “This High King begging me to kill him is not the Thane Athayel I’ve always known. The High King of Palenor begging me, his enemy, to take over the rule of his land… You’re pathetic. The Thane I knew would never let his mate go. He would have fought for her until the end, not give up like a coward. This is how you want to be remembered? Because this is the only thing people will remember. That you gave up.”

Those words hit him harder than anything ever had. Thane froze, letting it all sink in. Brunard was right. He should have never come here. He should have gone after Layala, but no, he couldn’t even do that. He let his friends go in his stead. He left her to fight for their lives on her own, while he, like a coward, came here to get his enemy to end his life? Nausea hit him like a hot blast of wind, enough that his legs grew weak, and he had to grab onto the back of the chair. He was so blinded by her rejection that he’d lost himself. Lost who he was entirely. How could he have ever left the person he loved so deeply?

There wasn’t much time now. He had to leave. He had to fight until his last breath for her, for himself. He could make it to the portal in a few hours, maybe faster if he could use his magic to shift through space again, and beg it to take him to Layala.

“Thank you,” Thane said. “For making me see when no one else could.” He marched with a sense of urgency that propelled him into a run.

Until Brunard called, “Wait!”

Thane stopped and looked back. “I have to go. We’ll discuss alliances when I get back.”

Brunard smiled. “Share a quick drink with me. Then go and save your Layala.” Brunard quickly closed the distance between them and held out the crystal glass.

It was the least he could do when Brunard all but saved him. In a rush, Thane grabbed it but froze with the glass touching his lips. He hadn’t seen Brunard pour it. The eagerness in Brunard’s eyes said everything. He pretended to take a sip. “Thank you again, Brunard.”

“Oh, you’re very welcome.”

Thane handed the glass back. When Brunard took it, Thane felt a sharp jab in his side. He sucked in a breath, and stared down at the knife sticking in his flesh. His vision blurred and his limbs became weak after a couple heart beats. Thane staggered back, falling to his hands. Brunard must have poisoned him with that stab.

“You think after you killed my father, I’d let you walk out of here? Unlike you, I loved my father. I’ve had to watch my mother cry every day for years because of what you did. And when I take your sister and your kingdom, this will make it all the more sweet. You deserve everything that’s coming to you.” His boot slammed down on Thane’s face, and he blacked out.

When Thane woke with a pounding head and blurry vision, something cold and hard bit into his wrists. Blinking rapidly until he saw clearly, he looked up to find manacles and chains. He jerked as hard as he could, but it only made the metal cut into his flesh. He had no shirt on; his boots had been taken, leaving him only in his trousers. Metals bars surrounded him in a circular cage, like one might keep birds in. It hung from a tree swinging in the air three or four feet high. Woodland elves stood all around, staring at him. Some pointed and laughed. A huge tomato flew through the bars and splat across his forehead; the liquid slime seeped down his face burning his eyes. The hundreds of gathered elves laughed. “Throw another one!” someone shouted. And another they did, hitting him in the chest. An apple slammed into his temple, then a rock popped his chin, splitting it open.

“Murderer!”

“Killer!”

“Not so high now, are you?!”

“I hope you burn in the afterlife!”

Shame rippled deeply through him. Shame for letting himself get into this situation in the first place. For letting Layala leave. It took his enemy to tell him he made a mistake, for him to listen and it had gotten him into a horrific situation. He reached within himself for his magic, finding it odd that it wasn’t immediately there. With it, he could break these chains and pry open the bars.

“You didn’t think I’d be that stupid, did you?” Brunard came through the crowd with a pair of friends on either side. “The Maker wouldn’t have given us magic if there wasn’t also a way to fight it.” He held up a black barb.

Thane’s stomach sunk like a rock. They’d poisoned him with katagas. It took Layala’s magic at least six hours to come back. “Let me out or so help me—”

“You’ll what?” Brunard lifted an eyebrow. “A steady drip of poison will make you like the rest of us. You’ll be a pale one soon and I’m going to let you turn. Death would be too easy for you.”

Gritting his teeth, rage pulsed through him. “No. You must let me go.”

“You’re not in any position to make commands.”

“You don’t know what you’re doing!” Thane roared. “If you miss a dose by even a second, I will get my power back and if I’ve turned into a pale one, you’ll all be dead!”

The crowd murmured in low tones.

“Well, I guess we won’t miss until I decide I’ve had enough of you.” Brunard turned to the male beside him. “Dose him every four hours.” Then he grabbed a spear that had been lodged into the ground beside the cage. He slashed the sharp tip of it across Thane’s rib cage sending a sting of pain. Blood oozed down his obliques. “Or perhaps we’ll do death by a thousand cuts or however many it takes. Two thousand, four.” He turned to the crowd. “Feel free to cut his flesh like he and his high elves cut our hearts, but don’t kill him until I say. Make him suffer.”

Thane wildly jerked and tugged on the chains shaking the entire cage, making the blood pour out even faster. It spilled onto the metal floor. Fear and fury boiled in him like the angered mountains as they shook. There was no sorrow, no self-pity in him. He was the killer, the Warrior King now. “I will kill you! I will flay the flesh from your bones and laugh as you writhe in pain! Let me out or you’ll suffer much more than your father ever did!”

Brunard handed the spear to a female and glared. “Ah there he is. The Thane we all know too well.”

The she-elf holding the weapon scowled as she pushed the spear through the bars and cut into his thigh. Not deep but enough to burn, to draw blood, and there were enough elves lined up for this torture to last more than the two days he had left.