Chapter 3
“Intimate Contest”
The grounds of the Palatial Embassy of the Uncanny Court: A sword-girl told the other with her, “Just to hear her voice inspired such cheer.”
“Yes,” the other agreed, “but how can one sing so beautifully yet dance as if dizzy?”
“She does not dance so poorly.”
“No; neither does she dance so well.”
The other giggled, “Yeena, neither do you!”
“Perhaps not.”
“Undoubtedly not!”
The two did not notice the high elf crawling past them.
A sword-girl nearby could hear her fellows chatting. She so longed to join them! Being posted alone was so boring! A sharp chop to the neck from Aylith’s hand ended the boredom.
Within the embassy palace: “Haudriss, why did you not tell me?”
The he-fay told Vorla, “Guards accompanied me to and from the Durian Embassy.”
“I am the captain of your guard!”
“Yes... and your recklessness is the cause of my peril.”
“Haudriss!”
“I forgive you, my love, but I am mindful to be wary of your inclinations.”
“My inclinations are to protect you!”
“So be it.”
“Haudriss.” Vorla choked, “You doubt me?”
“Vorla, I have returned unharmed. You have not failed as the captain of my guard.”
“Why did you wish to see her?”
“Because she is my adversary. You are a warrior. Surely you understand.”
A bow nymph and a sword-girl were together guarding from a balcony... until a tall, blond form shot up and tackled them!
“She is beautiful,” Haudriss told Vorla.
The nymph folded her arms and wondered, “Were you hoping she was?”
“I knew she would be. Ugliness cannot be found among our kind.”
“No, but not all beauty is equal.”
Haudriss grinned in thought, “Aylith.”
“Why do you utter her name with lustful countenance?”
“Because the thought of her... arouses me.”
“Haudriss!”
“Vorla, my dear, I would very much like to watch you... perhaps touch her for our pleasure.”
“I shall touch her unto death!”
Haudriss shrugged.
Aylith was in a corridor draping a limp guard over her shoulder. She then picked up the dropped spear-sword. With nowhere yet to hide them, she carried them along. She moved from chamber to chamber, peeking inside and listening for the voice of a he-fay. She found only lesser nymphs. She hid as a prattling, giggling group of naked little scribes passed her.
“Vorla,” Haudriss tried to hold the sniffling nymph. She shooed him away and stormed out of the room. “Vorla...!”
Aylith stopped and listened. She heard sobbing... and approaching footsteps. The sounds bore the heaviness of a greater fay. Aylith laid her lifeless burden to the floor. Leaving her own spear-sword in its scabbard, she wielded the one of the dead guard.
Dame Vorla turned the corner. She gasped, startled, then sneered, “You!” She drew her own sword, “Oh, what fortune that my misfortune should be before me!” Vorla lunged and jabbed! Aylith smacked the blade aside. The dark elf pressed the attack, thrusting and swiping with no thought of parry! Aylith fell back against the furious onslaught. The dark elf laughed, “I shall skewer your foul body, high elf!”
“Dame Vorla!” the voice of a sprite shrilled. The captain of the guard was formidable enough: if her underlings joined the fight, Aylith would be overwhelmed.
“Coward!” Vorla accused as the intruder fled. Aylith cut down two sword-girls who blocked her way. She leapt over a balustrade and landed in a hall. Little guards assailed her! She slashed and stabbed her way past them and darted into a corridor. She turned, and slew those who followed her. “Coward!” she could still hear Dame Vorla.
Aylith hurriedly roamed about, slaying guards as she happened upon them. “There!” she heard the voice of a sprite. A dozen sword-girls were running towards her! Aylith darted through an archway, hoping to find a quick way out. She found more guards! The sword-girls attacked, swiftly joined by the dozen others! The little soldiers poked and swiped. Aylith slashed and stabbed them. Dark elves groaned as their bowels poured out of them, screamed or grunted when pierced or gagged from slashed throats. The last of them fell with blood squirting out the side of her neck!
Aylith unlocked a door and ran outside. “Stop her!” guards converged. Aylith dashed and darted past them and made for the wall that surrounded the grounds. She sprang up it, pulled herself over the top then dropped down and disappeared into the depths of the city.
Later: Vorla railed, “She violates the sanctity of this embassy yet you will not pursue her?!”
“I shall not send armed throngs into the streets of this city.” Haudriss explained, “All is delicate on impartial ground.”
“Who would fault you?!”
“My own mind would fault me for such foolishness.”
Vorla huffed but did not argue. She nodded, accepting Lord Haudriss’s wisdom. She wondered, “What shall be done?”
“We shall fulfill our design.”
“What of Aylith?”
“We shall await opportunity.”
“We shall await opportunity and she shall seek it!”
“Vorla!” The nymph sulked but did not argue. Haudriss warned, “Do not dare dishonor our purpose here.” He then left her.
“Madam,” a little soldier knelt and bowed before Vorla.
“What have you come to tell?”
“Madam, we have captured an enemy.”
“A prisoner?”
“Yes, madam.”
Vorla smiled.
Aylith hid within one of the city’s many floral gardens... and waited. No dark elf appeared in search of her. The high elf found the blanket and cords she had hidden. She wrapped and bound her sheathed sword then departed for the safe house.
Twaylee cowered and her peers who guarded her flinched as a sneering greater nymph loomed over them. “Who are you?” the towering menace wondered.
“Madam,” Twaylee bowed. “Forgive my intrusion onto the grounds of your embassy.”
The greater fay grabbed the lesser by the head and almost gently made her look up. “Tell me who you are.”
“Twaylee.”
“Who are you to Aylith?”
“Dame Aylith, madam?”
“Aylith.”
Twaylee choked, “I do not know her, madam; only her name.” The sprite closed her eyes and cringed, anticipating something horrible.
The greater nymph laughed. “So afraid, yet so loyal. Sad that you are not mine.” She choked Twaylee, “Perhaps I should do to hers what she has done to mine.”
“Madam,” a witch of the guard addressed Dame Vorla, “shall we tell the lord ambassador of our prisoner?”
The tall nymph relaxed her grip. She caressed Twaylee’s cheek and answered, “Yes.” She commanded a sword-girl, “Tell Lord Haudriss that the awaited opportunity has presented herself.”
“Yes, madam.”
Dame Vorla looked their sprite prisoner over. “Strip her.”
“Yes, madam,” the guards obeyed.
Aylith was greeted by Lord Vellizar upon her return to the safe house. She told the gray elf, “I have again failed, milord.”
“So long as you live to tell of your failure, there is hope for success.”
“Milord, I encountered the very captain of his guard.”
“You fought Dame Vorla?”
“Yes, milord. The contest was yet decided before I was forced to flee. I cannot boast that victory was assured me.”
“Nor should you. Let us not share the folly of pride with the enemy.”
Twaylee covered herself as the dark elfin ambassador viewed her fair, willowy nudity. He aske
d in a gentle tone, “What is your name?”
“Twaylee..., milord.”
Lord Haudriss turned to a greater fay priestess (Mother Dellinnay) and commanded, “Question her.”
“Yes, milord.”
He whispered into Dellinnay’s ear, “Gently.”
“As you wish, milord.”
Lord Haudriss went to his quiet room and sat to meditate... when Vorla came in. “Yes, Vorla?”
“She is Aylith’s underling.”
“Perhaps.”
“We know she is.”
Haudriss assured, “Mother Dellinnay shall know all we wish to know about our little prisoner.”
“So be it, my love: We shall know what we already know.”
“Perhaps.”
“Haudriss, the high elves cannot bear to forsake even one of their own. Let us make use of their sentimentality. Offer to release our prisoner if Aylith shall meet me in an honorable duel.”
“No.”
“Haudriss!”
“You are the captain of the guard. You shall not partake of such dalliance.”
“The challenge is mine!”
“Aylith is not our purpose here. Your challenge shall not be offered.”
“Haudriss,” Vorla choked, “you doubt I am her better.”
“Better with a sword does not mean better. I myself am no match for either of you in such a contest. Is such to my shame?”
“My love, the way of the sword is not your way.”
“Vorla,” Haudriss stood and embraced the nymph, “you are the mistress of many elves. Aylith commands perhaps one. You are her better.”
“Aylith has murdered sixty of my disciples.”
“Sixty?”
“Yes! Thirty-eight of them were slain this very day.”
Haudriss shrugged. He uttered soothingly into the nymph’s ear, “She has failed to kill me. Those whom she has slain are easily replenished. Vorla, my love, success is yours, not hers.”
“Haudriss, I must kill her.” The he-fay shook his head. “Yes!” Vorla insisted. “My love, the loss of sixty is not our only loss. My disciples fear the high elf. Unless I slay her, doubt will grow among them that I am her match. You doubt I am her match! She fled from me yet I am doubted!”
“Vorla...”
“I shall kill her.”
“Vorla...”
“I must kill her!”
“Our quest on this Isle of Peace is not the death of this one high elf.”
“It is my quest... and I shall fulfill it.”
Haudriss sighed, but did not argue.
Later: The Reverend Mother Crystalline was invited to the Palatial Embassy of the Uncanny Court. Upon her arrival, she was surprised to see the bodies of little nymph soldiers; piled in the back of a wagon. She heard a greater nymph command the driver, “Dump them with the others.”
“Yes, milady.”
Crystalline hailed the greater nymph and requested, “Tell me about those corpses.”
The elf bowed and told her, “Fret not, honorable dwarf. The bodies shall be taken far from the city and dumped where none dwell.”
Crystalline’s true curiosity had not been satisfied. Why were the bodies dead? Did Aylith kill them? Were the dark elves and Aylith still fighting on the Isle of Peace? Crystalline would ask the Lord Ambassador for the Uncanny Court directly.
Another greater nymph greeted the reverend ambassador with a bow and told her, “Your Reverence, the Voice of Nicnivin bids you join him for tea and snacks.” The dwarf nodded and the elf led the way.
Aylith asked Lord Vellizar, when he entered the room, “Do you know where Twaylee has gone?”
“Yes.” The gray elf took Aylith’s hand and told her, “Little Twaylee is a prisoner of the dark elves.”
“What?!”
“Lord Haudriss sent word of it by way of Mother Crystalline. He promises that so long as you never again raise your hand against the False Queen or her elves, he shall forgo his right to harshly ‘question’ his prisoner nor shall he sentence her to death.”
Aylith sobbed, “Twaylee.”
“Should you attempt to rescue our little Twaylee and fail, she would undoubtedly suffer and perish.”
Aylith choked, “Are we to forsake her that she may live?!”
“Haudriss has given his word to the Ambassador for Duria. He shall honor what he has told her... so long as it is the wish of his False Queen to keep ‘peace’ with the dwarves.”
“I shall not forsake her!”
“That is your choice alone.”
“Milord, what do you suggest? Please bless me with the wisdom of your counsel!”
“Find peace in stillness.”
“Milord?!”
“Only despair is born of a troubled heart and folly of a bewildered mind. Find peace in stillness and you shall know what you must do.” Vellizar embraced the weeping nymph. He kissed her and assured, “I am with you. Neither you nor our little Twaylee shall be forsaken.”
Haudriss was alone in his private library until Vorla entered. The nymph uttered, “You wish to see me?”
The he-fay smiled, “Always.”
“You called me to your library to flirt with me?”
“I would rather watch you dance.”
Vorla swayed her hips. “Does this please you?”
“Yes.”
Still dancing, the nymph turned, leaned forward and arched her back. Delighted, Haudriss laughed and slapped her buttocks. Vorla then bent forward and winked at him from between her legs! “Haudriss?”
“Huh?”
“Tell me what you... want.”
The he-fay swallowed. The nymph giggled, still bent and swaying her buttocks. Haudriss handed her a scroll. Vorla stood upright and asked, “What is this?”
“The formula for a spell.”
“Spell? I am not a witch.”
“Nor need you be. Its mystery is a simple one. To use it, however, is most demanding.”
“What spell is it?”
“Life’s Blood Lightning. Her Majesty’s agents learned the secret of it from an unwilling gnome.” Vorla snickered. She knew the grim fate of the hapless gnome. “Learn it,” Haudriss suggested, “but be wary to use it. The very life-force of the caster is bled to feed the spell. Few of our kind are hearty enough to use it to avail, but you are a warrior and among the heartiest of elves.”
Vorla studied the formula before telling Haudriss, with a smile, “Thank you, my love.”
Haudriss nodded. When Vorla turned to leave, he turned her back around, drew her close and gazed into her eyes. He told her, “Should you and Aylith again meet, it shall be her doom.” He caressed her cheek then whispered into her ear, “You shall prove to be the better.”
Lord Vellizar watched from a balcony as Dame Aylith sat and meditated in the garden. The gray elf eventually turned and went back into the house. He sought and found a scribe; a lesser he-fay who stood two heads shorter than himself. The littler gray elf bowed, “Milord.”
“I wish to send a message to the Ambassador for the Dwarfish Kingdom of Duria.”
“Yes, milord.”
Twaylee wore a silver collar set with a red crystal. If she attempted to leave the broad, red circle painted around her, a spell would be triggered that would blacken her blood! Twaylee fidgeted with the back of the collar, where it connected, and complained, “How am I to rest wearing this uncomfortable thing?”
A sword-girl was in the room guarding her. The dark elf responded, “I do not fret your discomfort.”
Within Twaylee’s circular confinement was a plush divan and a chamber pot. She mentioned, “I was told that I cannot leave this circle without dying.”
“So try to leave,” the dark elf told her. “I would be delighted to be rid of you.”
“You are so cruel!”
The dark elf snickered.
Twaylee continued to fidget with her dangerous and uncomfortable collar. She
asked her guard, “I cannot escape this circle?”
“You cannot.”
“Then why are you here?”
The dark elf scowled then said, “Do not pester me with your prattle.”
“I cannot leave this circle and you are merely to stare at me as I do nothing? Would conversation not serve us both?” The dark elf said nothing. Twaylee told her, “So be it. Unlike you, however, I may escape my boredom.” The prisoner laid on the divan and closed her eyes. She again fidgeted with her collar, as if to make herself more comfortable, and eventually sighed.
The guard uttered, “You shall not rest if I do not allow it.”
Twaylee opened her eyes and sat up. She asked her guard, “What is your name?”
“You need not know who I am.”
“Yes,” Twaylee nodded. “Only the name of a lord or lady matters among you dark elves. I doubt your mistress knows who you are either.” The high elf giggled, “Nor does she care.”
“You care, high elf; that is why you asked me.”
Twaylee shrugged. “Unlike you, my name is known and who I am is cherished. My fate is the worry of lords and ladies.”
“It is not.”
“It is. I am a high elf and my name is ‘Twaylee.’ Unlike you, I am known and I am loved.”
“I am Nindee and I am a disciple of the honorable Dame Vorla and a loyal subject of Her Majesty, Nicnivin, Queen of the Elves! Do not tell me, high elf, that you are precious and I am not. I am a sword for honor and glory beyond you and your Usurper lord!”
“I am not bound to this circle.”
“What?”
Twaylee winked. She pulled off the collar and lunged at Nindee!