Ok, I'm on a bit of a roll. I reached the end of chapter 10 faster than I thought I would and I still had more to go. So, sooner than you might expect, here is chapter 11.
Again, if you have any questions, comments, suggestions or criticisms, feel free to email me at cperez@gmotion.com
War is an art. Like any art, the various people of the world express it differently.
Humans fight in disciplined ranks, and as a coordinated whole. Individual soldiers that make up the shield walls and pike phalanx formations possess little in the ways of combat skills. Instead they are ruthlessly trained and drilled until they are a disciplined band that will execute any command instantly, and will stand firm in the face of the enemy and stab forth their weapons. Calvary and archers posses greater individual skills, but are still trained to operate in formation.
This style of warfare requires large amounts of open space. Thus, human armies prefer to fight their battles on open fields, or small hills. Either allows them to maintain their formations, and coordinate their units. Additionally, this open space allows the human War Magi to make full use of their offensive and support magics. The somewhat grandiose nature of their combat spells makes it hazardous to use them in tight terrain.
Orks fight as individuals. Their tactics tend to be disorganized. They simply bull through by shear weight of numbers, and the raw power of their shamans. It has been this lack of anything remotely resembling a true strategy that has been one of the greatest factors in holding the orks back since time immemorial. Barbarian orks hold martial prowess in high regard, and so by and large they are skilled fighters.
Elves however, have developed a natural style of warfare that strikes a happy medium. While they are capable of operating in the same fashion as humans, Elves generally posses admirable fighting skills as individuals, as every child is taught at an early age to fight with a sword, and shoot a bow. The forests, which Elves call home, make operating in formations difficult at best, nightmarish at worst. As such, Elves have learned to use the forest to their advantage. Leading enemies to locations where the terrain isolates groups which can be destroyed at will, and frequently prevent other groups from offering support, or exacting retribution.
When meeting the orks on the Therin Wastes, Elves operate in a method similar to that of the Humans. Relying on discipline and coordination to hold off the overwhelming hordes of orks. Though not comfortable with such warfare, Elves have been able to prosecute wars against the hordes for centuries with a fair degree of success. And when the odds are too great, the Elves bring out their "secret weapon": Bladedancers.
I'lerian'An'althan -- A History of War
The Elvin people are at war.
To most people, this would mean that the young warriors would march off to battle, while the women, children and elderly stayed behind.
Amongst the elves, if a child can walk, he can shoot a bow. Women are as furious in battle as men, if not more so in defense of their homes. As for elderly, the phrase "You are only as old as you feel" is very much a reality. The universal ability all elves posses to heal at least themselves in small ways allow them to keep themselves youthful for as long as they have the inclination to.
When the elves go to war, they go to war as a race. And they are not alone.
1,000 years ago, when the Cycle began, the Elvin Kingdom ceded to the humans the plains of Meredo. It was intended to be used as an assembly area for the human armies should they be required to mobilized in force. The foothills between the plains and the Hurin Mountains that marked the old borders of the Kingdom of Man are dotted with small keeps that are held by a hearty band of soldiers who devote themselves to protecting the borders.
The Border Knights rotate out to the Therin Waste with their elvin allies, and help ward the border of the Elvin Kingdom. With the Griffin Riders to act as scouts and air support, they have always been able to keep the orks from overrunning the Elvin Forest.
Times change.
It was planned for of course. When the forts on the Therin Waste were constructed, it was known that while they were tough, they were not impregnable. The plan called for them to fight off invasions. However, if they were faced with a force that would be able to overrun them, the word would be passed, and the elves would mobilize, and prepare to defend the forest. At the same time, the hosts of man would form up on the plains of Meredo, and once assembled, elvin scouts would lead them through the forests toward the Therin Waste. Once there, the combined Human / Elvin force would crush any besieging ork force against the forts, thus ending the threat. The forts need only hold out for a few weeks to allow the armies to gather.
Unfortunately, they had never considered that one shaman could possibly subdue his entire species. Oh, many of the Border Knights thought that the 3 years of utter quiet were suspicious, ork raids and occasional assaults were almost an everyday occurrence. No one suspected that those years of quiet were the time it took Ter'Zhull to bring ALL of the tribes to heel. After all, no one could be that powerful.
Times change.
But the wisdom of the leaders of both man and elf was proven, for even this possibility had been, if not expected, at least planned for. In the event that the forts were overrun before the elves could mobilize, humanity would still form their host upon the plains of Meredo, and there they would wait for their allies to join them.
The forests are a dangerous place for those who do not know them well. After countless ages of living amongst those trees, the elves know the forest well, and it is their ally.
When the orks overran the border forts with the use of magics so powerful they shattered the stone foundations of buildings, the horde poured into the forest, only to find that the way was not as clear as they thought. Elves lurked behind every bush, hid in every tree. They lured groups into Fairy Rings, bear caves and haunted groves all of which slowed the orks down. They shot bloodhound keepers causing their charges to run loose. They assassinated war- leaders and shamans causing confusion and fighting amongst the uncontrolled warriors.
They raided supplies and freed slaves, executing a guerilla war that forced the orks to send troops where the elves wanted them to in order to crush resistance.
The whole time they fell slowly back toward the plains of Meredo, for this was a part of the plan. The whole guerilla campaign served only one purpose; to buy the time needed for the hosts of man to assemble.
This plan worked.
The word passed quickly that the humans were almost completely assembled, but the elves were in no hurry. They would continue to slow and bleed the horde as they fell back in small groups, or as individuals toward the human lines.
It was only two days after the general announcement of his 'Miraculous' return, and Andy was already tired of being a Prince. He had often fantasized about it, dreamed about how wonderful it would be to be treated with such reverence and respect. Of course those fantasies never pictured him masquerading as some other prince. He had always thought the "Prince and the Pauper" routine was slightly absurd, but he was now living it. People kept bowing to him as he passed and, frankly, he was getting rather sick of it.
'This is enough to make me love democracy.' Andy thought wryly.
E'rin was his rock during this transition period. The Elvin prince coached and guided him through the unfamiliar waters of absolutist politics. The fact that all real power in the land came directly from the throne turned politics from a public opinion game into one that focused on shaping the opinions of the King and those he trusted.
It was because of this that he found himself flooded by well-wishers, several of whom were obviously using the opportunity to try and ingratiate themselves with the Heir. Others tried to feel out his positions on issues, many of which he actually understood the basis of. Most of them were painfully obvious to Andy, though it seemed that a few were regarded by their peers as smooth operators.
All of them were going to be really surprised when the truth came out.
These audiences were enough reason by themselves to make the Magister's offer welcome. He had been in the pavilion he shared with E'rin (Count Beladon had insisted on providing security for both, and stated that they would share the same living space for… for ease of security of course) with Baroness duPre'. She was chatting with him about how important the northern provinces were to the Kingdom. Of course, the fact that her holdings were IN the northern provinces were entirely beside the point. The Baroness, Andy had been informed, was one of the few that knew he was not, in fact, the Prince. She used her knowledge ruthlessly to leverage long, incredibly boring, meetings with Andy in which she could impose her views on him.
She was in the middle of explaining to him how the funds 'wasted' on the Border Knights could be better used to subsidize her clearing of timberland for mining purposes in what Andy knew to be protected Crown Lands.
At E'rin's instance, he had studied maps of the Kingdom and it's political divisions. He knew that House duPre' had once held the status of a Great House, but had declined when her paternal grandfather had disinherited all of his children, and willed his lands to the Crown. He felt his family didn't deserve to have what he had won with honor. The title had passed to Eleanor duPre' on her grandfather's death, as the King had judged her to be the least offensive of her line. In keeping with her grandfather's will, she cast out the entire family into the street, and kept everything that remained for herself.
His high school experience actually came in handy. He had long ago learned to look as if he was paying close attention, when he was really only half listening while letting his mind wander to consider his new situation.
Andy snapped back to the present when the Magister swept unannounced into the pavilion. From the half hidden smirk on Beladon's face, Andy was sure he had let his father in to provoke the sheer howling terror that gripped the Baroness.
Andy had heard that the Magister had brought the hammer down on the Baroness when she had given an offhand impertinence to the King. The fact that the Kingdom's most powerful mage had threatened her was obviously still fresh in her mind, because when he swept in she shot to her feet. Her face instantly paled, and her eyes shifted from side to side as if looking for some place to hide.
Magister Earlon wore a smile fit to freeze the soul as he turned the full weight of his gaze on the unfortunate Baroness.
"I apologize for the interruption Your Highness." He said, never taking his eyes of duPre'. "I have an important matter to discuss with you."
The Baroness quickly recovered her composure, and looked like she was about to protest when A'rion glided in behind his husband.
Everything about the elf screamed that he was sudden death on two legs and willing to give demonstrations to anyone who got in his way. The smile on his face stopped at his eyes, which looked as if they had been carved from emeralds. He too rested that hard look on the Baroness, who quickly mumbled an apology saying that she remembered some important meeting she had to attend and left.
Earlon's expression warmed immediately. "I love doing that to her." He murmured quietly.
"Barbarian." A'rion said, his eyes now twinkling with humor.
"Can you honestly tell me that you didn't get as much enjoyment from doing that as I did?" Earlon demanded.
"Of course I can." A'rion said smoothly as Earlon snorted in disbelief. "Being a highly advanced and cultured being, I can say, with some degree of certainty, that my satisfaction far surpasses yours." He smiled at Earlon. "In fact, my pleasure at running that creature off in fear is only damped by the fact that she didn't give me a reasonable excuse to do something rather permanent to her."
"Now who's the barbarian?" Earlon said with a laugh.
"It's hardly barbaric belshatha." A'rion said evenly. "It would be a public service really."
"Did you actually have something important to talk about Magister, or were you just here to get your jollies by scaring the Baroness shitless?" Andy asked with a smile.
"Not that we'd complain either way." E'rin added quickly. "That woman makes me feel dirty just listening to her." He said with a dramatic shudder.
"Jollies?" Earlon asked. "Never mind." He said quickly, holding up his hand. "I get the general idea. Mind if we sit down?" He gestured to the various chairs in the pavilion.
"Please, feel free to make yourselves comfortable." E'rin said. "Can I offer you anything to eat or drink?"
Within five minutes or so, the necessary pleasantries were exchanged and the two guests were at their ease with chilled wine in their cups.
"Actually Your Highness." A'rion began, looking at E'rin. "It was you that I came to see."
"What can I do for you E'nathi?" Asked E'rin respectfully.
"It's a term of respect." Earlon said when Andy cocked his eyebrow at the unfamiliar word. "It is used when formally addressing a Bladedancer."
"The Song, Your Highness." A'rion said simply.
E'rin shifted in his chair as if uncomfortable. "It is time then?" He shivered as A'rion nodded solemnly. "I'm afraid E'nathi." He said in a small voice.
"As well you should." A'rion said simply. "It is all too easy to lose oneself in the Song of Steel. But you have great self-control Your Highness. If you did not, you would not have been able to go this long without beginning your training. As it is Te'ema has made it clear to me that I am to begin your training immediately.
"If it's dangerous, why does he have to do it at all?" Andy demanded. He knew that E'rin would do his duty, but he didn't handle the idea of a threat to E'rin well.
"Magic runs strongly in the Royal line." A'rion turned to Andy. "Just as it does in the Royal House of Man. Prince E'rin's talents are incredibly strong, but this is complicated by his gift." He paused to consider his words carefully.
"It is a rare thing, but some of our people are born with what we call the Song of Steel. It is guiding force that is always there. Children born with this talent also have greater magical abilities than would normally be expected by their bloodlines." He began.
"The Goddess Te'ema chooses these children to be the protectors of our people. Those of us with the Song in our blood are augmented beyond the norm in several ways, all of which are linked to the Song. We are faster, stronger and posses greater endurance. Our magical talents are enhanced as I mentioned, and our mental processes are also expanded. The Song carries with it a form of prescience that makes it nearly impossible to surprise us. All we need do is open ourselves to it, and it will guide our actions. All of this is the will of the Goddess."
"Sounds like a Jedi." Andy said with a laugh.
A'rion frowned. "I'm not familiar with that term I'm afraid."
"Sorry, it's not important. Just something from home." Andy said apologetically.
A'rion nodded as he dismissed the interruption. "There is a downside to it of course. Children who posses this gift MUST be trained. For most, it will drive them mad if they do not learn how to control the Song. I was one such child. But training must wait until the child's mind has developed enough to do any good. Otherwise we would serve only to expose the child to a force it cannot possibly control. It is almost as much an art to determine when to train a child, as it is to dance the Song itself."
The Bladedancer smiled at E'rin. "In the Prince's case, he has an exceptionally strong force of will. He has been able, instinctively, to hold off that power. Unfortunately this also locks down the vast majority of his magical power as well. He has reached the point where he MUST be trained. In his case it will not drive him mad, but it will lock away his power forever as his will… hardens shall we say." He shrugged. "I cannot force him to train of course, but it is exceptionally rare for one of the Royal Line to posses such a gift. Certainly none of his elder siblings did."
"You have brothers and sisters?" Andy asked.
E'rin nodded. "It is not uncommon for a King to have multiple children over his Reign belshatha."
"How come you never told me?" Andy demanded.
E'rin smiled softly. "I never think of them." He shrugged. "I have never seen them you see."
"Why? I mean they are still alive aren't they?" Andy asked confusedly.
"I imagine most of them are, but I was not told one way or the other."
"What you have to understand." Earlon broke in. "Is how the Elvin inheritance system works. Each house had a symbol, some physical representation of the power of the Head of House. When the Head of House chooses and heir, there is a small ceremony where the heir is presented with the symbol. In the case of the Royal House it is the sword of the king. The heir lays hands upon the symbol. If the symbol reacts well to the heir, he or she is confirmed. The symbols are powerful relics that judge the candidates worthiness for the post. If the symbol reacts not at all, the candidate is unfit for one reason or another, and so someone else must be chosen."
"That must cause a lot of resentment." Andy observed. "I know I'd be pretty pissed if a trinket told me that I wasn't good enough."
"Elves tend to be a bit more philosophical about the whole thing." Earlon said. "It's not like they wouldn't be able to find happiness in other duties. That's not to say that all elves are so laid back about it, but they aren't really a problem."
"Why's that?"
Earlon shrugged. "There's a third way the symbol can react. If it feels that the candidate is one of those kinds of people whose ambition exceeds their honor or reason, it will quite simply kill them."
"Harsh." Andy said. "I imagine that it keeps down the civil wars though."
"That is, of course, the idea." A'rion said. "It also neatly eliminates murder for inheritance or for power struggles. Two of E'rin's older siblings were slain by the Royal sword that I am aware of."
"How many were there total?" Asked Andy in shock.
"Three." A'rion answered simply. "The final sibling devoted himself as a Guardian in the Great Library." He shrugged. "Those who are found wanting generally leave their families in order to forge a life separate. After all, who wants to be surrounded by such constant reminders?"
"In any case, I am willing to start my training E'nathi." E'rin said. "It is my duty. More importantly I cannot be true to myself of my belshatha if I do not face this test."
"It is also an opportunity for you Prince Ethan." Earlon said to Andy. "Since A'rion will be training His Highness there, and as I remember young love you will resist being separated anyway…." A broad grin split his deceptively young face as Andy rolled his eyes. "It occurred to me that it would not be out of place for me to take up your education."
Andy's eyes widened at the suggestion. He had enjoyed Annea's teachings, but she had explained to him that her talents were mostly limited to blowing up things and people. The idea of learning from the preeminent wizard of the Kingdom of Man was exciting.
"That would be wonderful Magister." He responded, sitting firmly on his enthusiasm.
Earlon chuckled, and then glanced at his husband. "There's no time like the present. What do you say we get started belshatha?"
Andy and E'rin had been at their lessons for a week when the first Elvin units ghosted in from the forest. They moved in complete silence, and appeared as if out of thin air. All of them looked ridiculously young, but all it took was a single glance at their eyes to see they were all hard. The weeks of fighting the orks in their forests had taken their toll.
As each group or individual made their way to the camp, they found their way to E'rin. There they knelt to the Heir and swore fealty to their lord. Andy got to see his love in action for the first time, and was impressed. Gone was any uncertainty as he calmly organized a chain of command amongst the incoming elves on the fly. Each was directed to his place with smooth efficiency, and patrols in depth were set in the forest.
In a gesture of cooperation Count Beladon offered to incorporate some select elves into the security plan. He explained that he felt that the elves' morale could only be improved by helping to ensure the security of the Heir, especially after the loss of the King and Queen.
Eventually, as small group of three battered elves arrived carrying what had to be the most beautiful sword Andy had ever seen. These three were all that was left of a company of the Royal Guard that had ignored all risks to retrieve the sword after the King had been captured. There had been many deaths getting to the blade, and more recovering it, for the Sword of the Elvin King would permit no hands save those of it's master and his heir. All others would perish.
It hadn't mattered. Not only was the sword a vital symbol for the elvin people, it was a powerful weapon in it's own right, and it's strength would be needed.
Gravely, E'rin had accepted the sheathed weapon from those who had sacrificed so much to recover it. At his touch the weapon began to glow softly, and emitted one note of perfect purity.
All three were given assignment with the security detail. One of these warriors was on duty at all times, and their devotion to the security of the Prince and his belshatha was almost frightening in it's intensity.
That evening, both Beladon and his wife took the watch. U'thian'Al'amire stood silent as a shadow inside during his vigil. The elf was able to blend into the background, and was frankly unnoticeable.
Dinner was served late, as Annea had come to eat with them and discuss the day's events. It was a fine meal of venison, and a few unidentifiable vegetables.
"My that was good." Annea remarked, stifling a yawn. "I must have eaten too much, I feel incredibly tired."
"I do as well." E'rin agreed tiredly. "I think we should turning early belshathaaaaaa." Suddenly slumping over.
Andy knew that a full meal could make you rather sleepy, especially turkey, but he had never known someone to simply pass out, let alone two people. Annea was also sound asleep in her chair, dozing lightly.
Andy got up, feeling woozy, but nonetheless able to function. 'We must have been drugged.' Was all he could think as he stumbled toward the entrance.
U'thian caught him as he almost fell, and helped to brace him against the chairs that he and E'rin used for holding audiences.
"My lord, are you alright?"
"Food… drugged." Andy muttered.
U'thian sniffed Andy's breath. "Therone…" He snarled. "There is treachery afoot!" Making sure that Andy was not going to fall, he strode quickly toward the tent entrance just as Beladon entered the room.
The elf opened his mouth to explain when he stiffened. Something about the Mage did not sit well with his finely honed instincts, and without a word he drew his sword.
Almost casually, Beladon produced a small rod and pointed it at the elf. Silently a flash of energy leapt from the rod and struck down the elvin warrior, who crumpled to the floor.
His eyes swept the room sightlessly, and fell on Andy… and stopped. For several moments he stood there like a statue, until a voice from behind him spoke.
"What is taking you so long?" Demanded Lady Emelia. Beladon's wife came around from behind her husband and frowned at the site of Andy. "You should be asleep…. This is most unfortunate."
"Why?" Andy asked. "Why do you want to kill me?"
"You?" She asked amused. "I had no interest in you until I saw that you were awake. I will have to kill you to keep you quite, but you were never my intended target. There was no way I could have compelled my husband to kill you." She snapped her fingers and Beladon stiffened like a puppet.
"Annea on the other hand…."
Andy watched as Beladon's hand rose in slow motion. His body felt like lead, but he grabbed onto the first thing he could find and made a desperate swing at Emelia.
With the sound of hissing steel, the sword his hand found slid from its sheath, and whipped up in a deadly arc. Had she not been completely surprised, Emelia could have easily dodged the blow from the drugged boy.
Unfortunately for her, hesitation was fatal. The razor sharp blade hit her in the neck, just below the left side of her jaw and passed upwards through her skull, slicing her as if she were made of soft cheese.
Her sudden death snapped the spell controlling Beladon, but not soon enough to stop the bolt of death that streaked across the room to strike Annea dead center.
Ok, as much as you might hate it, I have to stop here. I hope that this is enough to make you look forward to chapter 12 eagerly.
Corey.