Fall of the Elves, page 22
part #1 of Elves of Asarton Series
“Let me see,” the queen demanded, eyes on the sword at my waist and a smile on her lips. “My son would not even show his own mother. Insisted it was bad luck for anybody to see it before he presented it to you.”
I unsheathed the sword and held it out for the queen’s inspection. Marvelling at its beauty, she raised a hand to almost, but not quite, touch the sword. She knew better than to touch the blade of a Union sword that was not her own.
“Thank you,” the queen said on a sigh, sitting back. “I see how happy you make my son. I can leave this world with no regrets knowing he has you by his side.”
“Your Majesty…” I said, voice low and thick with unshed tears.
Your Majesty, you mustn’t say such things, Rana said. I’m sure you’ll be up in no time.
The queen smiled at Rana’s optimism. “Of course, of course. But Zariah, you must come around more often. There is much to do to prepare you for the crown before I pass on.”
The queen’s words stayed with me long after the visit was over. I knew, of course, that Torren was a prince. That he would be the next king. I knew to accept him meant I would be his wife. But the full understanding of what that meant only now descended on me.
What is it? Rana asked, seeing that I wasn’t paying attention to her.
“I… I’m going to be queen.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Somebody was pounding a hole into my head. I cracked my eyes open, thankful to see I was tied up in a cave of some sort. Sunlight would have been too much to handle at the moment. As it was, the blessed darkness helped to lessen the throbbing ever so slightly.
It took me a few minutes of attempting to gather my wits for me to realise that being tied up was, in fact, not something to be thankful for.
The events that had led up to my abduction—for that certainly seemed to be what had happened to me—came back in a rush. The argument with Rana, running into the forest. The disturbance in the foliage and the blinding pain that had exploded through me before everything went black.
The anger that had filled me for the past few days was gone, replaced with heavy guilt and deep regret at my treatment of Rana. I couldn’t believe I’d said what I had. I didn’t mean any of it, not really. In the moment, it had been all I’d wanted to say. But looking back, I realised how childish I’d acted. Rana was my friend, yes, though I certainly didn’t have the sort of relationship with the ancient dragon where I should feel comfortable with challenging her, much less in a room full of monarchs.
“You are finally awake,” a soft voice said in thickly-accented Meldaic.
I yelped and twisted around, frantically seeking out the speaker. I blinked rapidly, silently urging my eyes to accustom themselves to the dimness of the cave.
Slowly, out of the darkness, I was able to make out a figure. As my eyes adjusted, it became clearer. Rusted sword, ragged loincloth, matted hair, burnt skin. I screamed and scrambled back as well as I could with my wrists and ankles bound.
The ragtok approached cautiously, and I pushed away from it until I’d backed myself against the cave wall with nowhere to go.
Why hadn’t it killed me yet? Maybe it liked its meat fresh. Perhaps I could convince it that cutting off circulation to my hands and feet would make me taste bitter, and that the only way to have a juicy human would be to untie me.
No…from what I knew of ragtok they had a comprehensive native language, as well as being fluent in Elvish and Meldaic. No creature that could speak three languages would be dumb enough to fall for such a trick.
Unable to help myself, I whimpered in fear. The ragtok took another step closer. Surprisingly, at my sound, it stopped and crouched, still some distance away.
“You have been unconscious for three days,” the ragtok said once the silence had dragged on for some time. “I did not realise I had hit you so hard.”
Three days? Perhaps I should have been focusing on ways to escape. But all I could think was how sleeping draughts didn’t allow me to dream, yet a conk on the head would do it. If Aidric found out, he’d hit me over the head every chance he got.
“Human,” the ragtok prodded when I didn’t speak.
“Tell me why you have not yet slit my throat,” I demanded, loud and clear. Well, my voice cracked a few times, but I thought I’d done pretty well for myself.
The ragtok cocked its head to the side, thick ropes of matted hair falling over its shoulder. “If I had wanted to kill you, I would have done it back in the forest. I would not have wasted the past three days feeding and watering you so you did not die while you slept.”
So that was the sour taste in the back of my mouth. The ragtok had obviously fed me a broth of some kind. What was in it, I didn’t want to ask.
I was about to summon my courage to deliver a scathing retort of some kind, but my eyes had fully adjusted to the dark cave by this point. There was just enough soft light streaming through cracks in the rock walls to make out the features of the ragtok more clearly.
I recognised it. It was the one who hesitated to kill me that day. Oh, when I got out of here Rana was going to get a severe talking to. If she’d just killed it that day, I wouldn’t be in this mess now. Of course, that would be after I’d apologised for my behaviour toward her. Sister Moons there was a lot to do. First and foremost, of course, was to escape.
“Human,” the ragtok said, firmer now. “You keep ignoring me. Perhaps you have a head injury. I did not hit you all that hard, but you humans are frightfully delicate creatures.”
I chose not to take offence to that. Zariah had thought something quite similar after Rela was hurt. I suppose, compared to elves and ragtok, we were quite delicate. “If you don’t want to kill me, then why am I here?”
It hesitated, suddenly seeming unsure. “I just wished to talk.”
I choked out a laugh, the entire situation becoming a little too much. “Why would you want such a thing? We are natural enemies. There is no room for mercy in the relationship between our two races, for hate fills the space completely.”
“We do not hate humans,” the ragtok said. “We hate elves. We like humans. You are tasty.”
Well, if that wasn’t reassuring, I wasn’t sure what was.
The ragtok hesitated, seeming to regret its words. “I do not eat humans,” it said quickly. “There are many ragtok who do not consume human flesh. We hunt other animals.”
I didn’t believe it. Of course I didn’t. “Ragtok eat humans,” I said. I wasn’t sure why I was arguing. I should’ve been doing everything I could to encourage its no-human-flesh mentality. But I simply couldn’t let such a statement go unaddressed. It was a fact ingrained into the very roots of our society. “Saying you don’t is like saying the grass isn’t green.”
“Grass is not always green,” the ragtok argued. “I have seen fields of blue grass. Heard tales of purple grass. Just because it is green for the most part, and that is the colour that comes to mind when people think of it, does not mean it is always so. Are all humans the same? No. So why would you think all ragtok are?”
I opened my mouth, ready to say that its words might have sounded sincere had it not tried to kill me that day, but as I did, my gaze met the ragtok’s—and I froze. Its eyes were… brown. I hadn’t given much thought to the eye colour of the ragtok in my previous encounter with them. But brown seemed such a… human colour. They were sad and imploring.
And then my gaze travelled to his filthy hair. Instead of human teeth and bones, his hair was matted with feathers and beaks. And his loincloth… it was made from some type of cloth. Not the dried human skin his brethren used.
For the first time, the fear that had throttled me loosened its grip ever so slightly. It was true. Three days with no water should have left me near death. As it was, aside from the pounding in my head, I felt fine. And even that ache was starting to lessen.
“Very well, then,” I said, struggling to sit straighter. “What is it that you wish to talk about?”
The ragtok hesitated, seeming unsure. “I… do not know.”
“So, you kidnapped me without having a reason?”
I couldn’t believe the situation I was in. Sitting in a cave with the most dangerous predator known to humans, a monster whose ancestors were responsible for the decimation of the elves and dragons. And I was holding a conversation with the creature. But I was by no means letting my guard down. I was still terrified. Even now, my heart was beating so fast I feared it would explode. The cool air of the cave raised bumps on my bare skin and the rough rope chafed at my sensitive flesh.
“I was… curious,” the ragtok said. “I have never hesitated before. Never hesitated to kill. Until you.”
“Well, I do have that effect on people.” I wasn’t sure what else to say. Something deep inside of me had expected Rana to come roaring in the moment I’d awoken. But every minute that passed without the appearance of the dragon caused my hopes to slip further away. Already fear was beginning to tighten its throttle again, cutting off my air supply.
“I am not people,” the ragtok snarled so suddenly I jumped back, moaning in pain as I slammed my head against the cave wall.
It was angry now, truly angry. Filthy teeth bared, naked chest heaving. Its grip tightened around the hilt of its rusted sword. I whimpered in fear as it made to rise, making a futile attempt to burrow further into the cave wall. Blackness swam at the edge of my vision as blind terror sunk its icy claws into me, threatening to drag me down, down. Into nothing.
It hesitated, sad eyes lighting on me. Scrutinised me, recognised my terror. Then, it sank back into its crouch, relaxed its grip on the hilt of its sword.
“I apologise,” it said, the words rough as if it wasn’t used to speaking them. “I did not mean to scare you. Please, do not lose consciousness again.”
It was probably the fear of what it would do if I did pass out that gave me the ability to push the darkness away, to sit up straighter.
The ragtok watched me for a long time, saying nothing. It scented the air, head cocking to the side. “You are human, yes?”
“Of course I’m human.”
The ragtok didn’t seem to quite believe me, but thankfully it didn’t push the subject. I didn’t particularly want to have a conversation about Zariah at the present moment.
“That’s a nice sword,” I said, attempting to make polite conversation.
It looked down at the blade in its hand. “Yes. I like it very much.”
“May I hold it?” Maybe I could get it to untie me and give me the sword. Then I could overpower it.
“No.” It cradled the sword as if it was a child. “This is very precious to me. Nobody can touch it.”
“I understand,” I said soothingly, instantly regretting ever asking.
“Do… do you have a name?” I asked after some time had passed. I felt being on a first-name basis with the creature might increase my chances of survival.
“No,” the ragtok said.
Oh. Okay. So much for that plan.
“Well, my name is Tessa,” I said.
“I do not care.” It loosened and tightened its grip on the sword’s hilt, shifted its weight from one foot to the other in its crouch.
If I didn’t find a way to recapture its attention soon, I feared it would lose patience and kill me. It was like being trapped with a wild animal.
I wracked my brain, praying for a plan of some sort. It didn’t even have to be a good one. I’d make it work. There was something niggling at the very edge of my mind, the beginnings of a plan. I almost had it when a mighty roar from outside shattered my concentration. Scowling, I sat back and attempted to grasp the beginnings of the idea again when I realised the roar had sounded incredibly familiar.
I looked up quickly to see the ragtok standing, eyes wide with panic. Relief exploded through me, the fear finally slipping away.
“That’s my dragon,” I told the ragtok primly. “You’d best scurry off before she makes her appearance. She may have spared you once but believe me, this time if she finds you, she will turn you into ash.”
Although my words sounded confident, something in me feared for the creature in front of me. It hadn’t hurt me. Not really. Apart from the initial bump on the head, it had even tended to me while I slept—a thoroughly disturbing notion but I chose to move past that. I wanted it to run, to hide. To escape.
To live.
I blinked as the thought hit me. I didn’t want this creature to die.
The ragtok strode to the rear of the cave where I now saw there was a hidden doorway disguised by the rock. He put one hand on the door. I drew in my breath, ready to let it out in a relieved sigh when he finally disappeared.
But then, he looked back at me. He snarled, his hand tightening on the hilt of his sword. And then, he was gliding back to me, sword raised.
I expelled my breath in a scream, lurching my head forward and screwing my eyes shut. He brought the sword down. My ankles gave way and my knees met the ground so harshly they bounced. The rope around my wrists grew taut behind my back. I opened one eye, just in time to see his blade making quick work of the ties around my wrists.
Another roar sounded from outside and I stared in shock as the ragtok once again retreated to his hidden exit.
“Be safe, human,” the ragtok said, turning back to me. It flashed a gruesome smile, revealing a row of soiled teeth. “I would hate for you to die before I have figured you out.”
I nodded slightly, not entirely sure what I was agreeing with. And then, he was gone.
I stayed there for some time, on my knees with my palms pressed flat beside me, staring into nothing. That had by far been the strangest encounter of my life—and that was including my encounter with the dragon of legend.
“Tessa,” a distant voice shouted.
“Countess!”
“Tessa!”
I ignored the shouts. Maybe I should have called out to them. But shock had frozen me in place, weighing my limbs down, making it impossible to move much less call out.
Only when the ground began to rumble with Rana’s wingbeats did I finally rouse myself. I stood slowly, using the cave wall to support my shaky legs as I made my way to the entrance.
“Here,” I croaked, throat dry.
I was suddenly aware of how filthy my clothes were. I needed a bath, very badly. My dress was torn and stiff with muck. The stench of burnt flesh clung to me, making me gag. Strangely, I hadn’t smelt it in the cave. I’d probably been far too scared to do any such thing.
And then Rana was there.
Tessa, she said, the relief clear in her silent voice. She scented the air. You smell terrible.
“Thanks,” I muttered, beginning to shiver.
Then Aidric and Herlon were there too, each taking one of my arms in an attempt to support me. Truthfully it was just making it more difficult as each one tugged at me, attempting to herd me in different directions.
“What happened?” Aidric asked, helping me to sit on a log.
She was taken by a ragtok, Rana said. Its scent is all over her.
Aidric’s eyes darkened and his jaw clenched. His right hand drifted to the hilt of his sword. “Which way did it go?” His voice was soft, trembling with anger.
“I didn’t see,” I lied. “At any rate, he’s long gone by now. And I’m safe.”
“He?” Herlon said, almost to himself.
“It. I meant it,” I said, hastily backtracking. When had I started thinking of the ragtok as a male?
The soldiers sent to guard us appeared then, Leon leading them.
“You’re safe,” the beefy soldier said, seeming overly concerned. I was beginning to suspect the man had a soft spot for me.
“Go gather firewood,” Aidric ordered carelessly before turning back to me. He gripped my small hands in his large ones, squeezing gently. “You are sure that you are not hurt?”
“I’m sure.”
Herlon stood just behind Aidric, arms crossed and eyes boring into Aidric’s hands. He cleared his throat. Aidric ignored him. He cleared his throat again, louder this time. Still, Aidric did not release me. Really, his actions were quite disrespectful, being so openly affectionate with another man’s wife in front of that man.
“Your Highness,” Herlon finally said, stepping closer to the two of us and forcefully removing Aidric’s hands from me. “I would appreciate it if you showed a little discretion when it comes to my wife.”
“This coming from a man who spends his life in another woman’s bed,” Aidric said, standing and facing Herlon. “Do not insult my intelligence by trying to deny it. Everybody knows of your illicit affair with your maid. Do you not think how that may hurt your wife?”
At the mention of Julia, both Herlon and I stiffened.
“What are you trying to say?” Herlon asked, voice low and dangerous.
“I think it is very clear what I’m trying to say. Perhaps if you spent a little more time with your wife instead of that harlot, you wouldn’t have to worry about her affections waning.”
Oh no. Herlon nodded and began to turn away. Then, whirled around. Arm lashed out. Crack. Aidric stumbled back, holding a hand to his face where ruby blood gushed from his nose. For a moment, everything was still.
And then, Aidric rushed forward, wrapping his arms around Herlon’s midsection and taking him to the ground.
“Boys, boys,” I said, half-heartedly. “Stop fighting.”
I would have intervened if I didn’t know Herlon so well. Most would think he’d hit the prince because Aidric had insulted him as a man. I was very aware, however, that Herlon cared little about that. He was currently hitting our future king because of his derogative words toward Julia. And I was fully supportive of his actions.
The soldiers rushed forward, attempting to separate the prince and the count to no avail. The stress from the past few hours hit me all at once and I began to laugh. Laughed so hard tears streamed down my face. Clapped my hands and cheered for Herlon as he landed a particularly painful-looking blow on the prince.
I looked up, cheeks wet with tears of hysterical mirth, trying to find Rana.
