A Deed Most Foul

Part 5 - Tas (March)

The days passed in considerable discomfort for Vognar. With his hands, feet, and neck bound, his muscles burned with the discomfort of carefully holding a semi-stooped posture as he walked the light dappled paths of the Mierani Forest. Any time he stumbled, he was treated to a spear point in the back from one of his escorts, and as if in sympathy with his captors, a cruel tightening of the vines around his extremities and neck.

With each passing day, Vognar did everything he could to catch even a glimpse of Elordria. The blinding image of her beauty kept his feet moving, and bore him through the occasional darkening of his sight due to lack of air. Even the occasional sharp prick of a spear point served only to make him all that much more determined to see that she came through this ordeal in the safety and comfort she deserved. A small growing pressure in his mind, however, reminded him that all was not likely to end well for the two of them.

****

One evening, Elordria brought Vognar a bowl of water and a rag to clean his cuts and bruises incurred during the prodded trek thru the forest. A cool look at the guards caused them to step back from the Elven Noble and Vognar.

Elordria bent down and began blotting Vognar’s head wound. As the Ulfen winced, Elordria whispered, “What will happen now is they will throw you in a cage and question you”.

“Just answer with truth I will speak for my half in this”, Vognar dared a look of warmth towards her but only for a moment, as he noticed Lythar and the other Elves’ gazes bore into him from the other side of the camp.

“Lady Elordria, I am sure he will live”, Kaerishiel stated flatly in Elven, eliciting sneers and quiet laughter from Lythar and the others.

“They,” another Shin’Rakorath called Tolinthar added, pointing to the captive, “would not treat us so kindly if they caught us doing the same in their lands”.

The elf maiden’s stare became cold and composed as she regarded her people as she replied, “Then its good we are not Orodae and that we are better than that.” Her statement seemed to quiet further discontent at her care for the Ulfen.

****

The remaining three days’ pace was fast and brutal as the party and their charge made their way to Crying Leaf. A massive curtain of cultivated and carefully tangled brier-vine walls both protected and obscured the town. As one of the Shin’Rakorath blew on a soundless silver whistle, a section of the vines untangled themselves and magically parted, creating a narrow, thorn protected tunnel into the town. Both on the ground and in the trees, buildings were built with such skill as to make it difficult to determine where the natural features of the terrain, rocks, and trees stopped, and the Elves’ homes and stores began.

Elven warriors lined the path leading into the town, their hard eyes seeming to flay the skin from Vognar as he was marched past them. Despite their glares, Vognar held himself as erect as his bonds would allow, his eyes straight forward as he attempted to steel himself for the ordeal to come.

His eyes did not stay straight for long though, as the beauty of the architecture finally drew the eye, causing Vognar to stagger in abject amazement. Noticing the ever so slight stumble, Elordria gave him a mildly amused sidelong glance, which turned into a frown as a smirking Lythar tugged on the Ulfen’s choker restraints, pulling him further into the village.

Quizzical, confused and even cold elven stares met the Ulfen on the parade to his jail, but he was like a child, amazed and wondering if any of his kin had ever seen such sights.

As they neared the center of the town, Vognar noticed that a large tent had been set up, with armed and armored Shin’Rakorath guards standing post at the entrances. A quick flash of light in the main entrance treated Vognar to a quick glimpse of a stunningly beautiful Elven Lady, dressed fully in gleaming mithral scale. When his eyes fully alighted upon her, he noticed her weighing him for a moment before she turned on her heel and disappeared into the tent. A shudder ran through him, as if her gaze had pierced him to his very soul.

Shortly before reaching the tent, Vognar was firmly turned towards a finely sculpted stone building. Upon entering, he noticed two cells of an unknown, but very sturdy looking wood, both of which were empty. Vognar’s escort pushed him into one of the bent wooden barred cells, and then as four elves with spears covered him, carefully removed the vines from his feet and neck, leaving his hands bound. Once he had coiled the vine, the gaoler stepped back as the bars moved of their own accord to close off the entry hole, preventing egress.

His jail, if it could be called such, was made of thick, live dark wood stronger than steel. Sitting heavily onto the bed, Vognar realized that it was more comfortable than any in which he had previously slept and there was even fresh water to drink. One would think the elves a soft and weak people with such luxuries to spend on a prisoner, however, a week with their finest soldiers had proved to Vognar that they were far from soft; more like quick and quiet like shadows with deadly sharp senses. He had none of their skills but admired them, warily from a distance, as one would a mountain lion.

Looking around, Vognar caught sight of the raven-haired elf that had surprised him in the cave. “I do hope you enjoyed your walk Orodae,” Lythar sneered, “that may be the last time you see the sun.”

After dropping off his traveling kit, Lythar was later assigned to guard the stinky Ulfen by Kaerishiel himself. Sometime later that evening, he used a stick to push a small dish of a simple meal of roasted nuts, roots, and fresh berries to Vognar, who picked it up and settled in to wait his fate.

***

Normally, gaoler duty was assigned to Vaeler or Shaleas. For a Velaes to draw such a task was usually done in penance, or after a demotion. As Lythar worked on an arrow shaft, keeping a wary eye on the large Ulfen, he realized that guard duty would bring the captive before her Ladyship Eviana for judgment and with him, Lythar. To be in Eviana’s presence, even in such a lowly role, would be considered a great honor.

As he turned his attention to a fletching that had come loose during his travels, Lythar’s eyes snapped up as two entirely unexpected visitors entered the jail.

The Ladies Eviana and Elordria appeared to flow in through the door, followed by a retinue of elven Lords including Kaerishiel himself. Snapping to attention, Lythar did not dare speak. Eviana’s voice was melodic like the running of a peaceful stream, her presence like bliss of the heavens itself.

“Has he eaten?” Eviana asked.

Lythar answered only by nodding, thinking it was more than the stinking savage deserved.

Eviana stared at the Velaes as if sensing his thoughts, an idea that unnerved the young Elf warrior. Bowing his head to avoid her gaze, he stood perfectly still as the others filed into the small room as if they where looking at a dirty caged animal.

“Vognar, son of Gilbere and Valda,” Eviana began, “it must have been Thari (fate) that brought you to our fair shores. I have spoken to my daughter and she has told me of the fight that occurred between her people and the dark elves”.

Lythar raised his head at the mention of an enemy more hated than the Ulfen raiders.

“She told me that her team intercepted your people and that you were here for trade. Had you not acted quickly, my daughter would surely have perished after the dark elves had fun with her so I can understand her… gratitude towards you as her savior.”

Lythar’s mouth twisted as he finally heard what must have been the reason for the unholy union he knew had occurred. He knew that no woman of noble blood would ever mingle with a mongrel such as this without it being for pity or gratitude. His smirk was quickly washed away to impassive stoney expression, however, when he was treated to a sidelong warning glare from Kaerishiel.

Eviana’s white dress shimmered in the candle light of the room as she asked, “Do you have anything to add to my daughters testimony”?

To this point, Vognar had been looking down at his bowl the entire time. As he raised his gaze, ice blue eyes like that of a wolf fawned upon Elordria with what everyone in the room could immediately see was love. Kaerishiel and most others stiffened at the notion, all except Eviana and Elordria of course.

“I wish I could agree with your daughter, that my people where here for trade, but it was actually for plunder of the lost city of Celwynvian.” Vognar shook his head as he added, “We never intended on fighting your people, but when both sides were set upon by Dark Elves who seemed more interested in killing your people than my own, my people retreated to the sea.”

Shocked and disgusted looks were exchanged amongst all of the Elves save Elordria, who looked at the floor in shame for her new love. She shook her head slowly, knowing this would not help his case. Noting her daughter’s frustration, Eviana made an effort to compose herself and nodded for Vognar to continue.

“I intended on running but could not allow your dark cousins to have sport with Elordria”. At the familiar mention of her name without respect to title, Vognar suddenly found himself meeting many angry Elven stares. Lady Eviana, however, noted her daughter did not share their anger, and to Eviana’s chagrin, was giving Vognar a loving stare in return.

“So I turned to save her, and with the luck of the gods we found a place where I could tend her wounds and prevent the skilled dark stalkers from finding us”.

The elves whispered a mix of curses and astonishment among themselves, before Lady Eviana brought silence with a raised hand.

“You speak truth, and I would known if you lied, young Orodae. Now, though, we have a problem.” Eviana smiled sadly as she continued, “because only you and one other of your kin escaped the battle. A battle that we must keep quiet at all costs”.

Eager looks broke out amongst the Elven nobles. Even Kaerishiel looked hungrily towards Vognar.

“So then, what shall be your fate, Vognar son of Gilbere and Valda?”

Realizing his fate was out of his own hands Vognar did something foolish.

“What I will say has happened, will be that I led a raid on your people, took an Elven maid as a prize, and I will return home to face the consequences of my failure among my people”. Vognar then regarded Elordria with a pained look, “If this act will protect you and your people, I will live or die with this secret for all of my remaining days, however few”.

A stunned silence fell over the room, as many of the Elves regarded the Ulfen dubiously. Elordria’s eyes welled at the thought of being parted and the stunning sacrifice he was willing to make. Lady Eviana was also at a loss, but knew he meant every word.

Lythar’s jaw actually dropped open in disbelief at the idea that they were actually considering this ludicrous idea.

Eviana drew herself up into the regal pose that all present knew was a signal that she was not to be trifled with. “We will need to talk in private amongst our leaders to consider your noble sacrifice”.

***

Several days later, a dispatch was sent to the Land of the Linnorm Kings that a warlord named Vognar and his men failed in an attempt to raid an elven city. The war leader and sole survivor would be transported to the leaders of his country to face justice.

He would be accompanied by Velaes Lythar, to ensure the ruse worked and to represent the Elven people. Vognar was allowed parting goodbyes to Lady Elordria whom he told not to worry. While his people would brand, banish or indenture him to servitude, he assured her that he would be fine.

He was wrong…