not perish by thy hand alone. For unharmed would she yet be had I not affronted her. It is not a tale I am fain to tell. But I must, if thou art to fathom my words. Alas, my sister, Kirðral, had given herself to an Elf-lord, my father's own enemy. So my father grew wroth when he was made ware that she was with child. Unwed and unloved by our people she was and without honour. Hence, she wept long tears for many days. I, who should have consoled her, only drove the stake further into her heart with more unkind words.
''But Kirðral could not bear my father's harsh speech or mine own, for ever did we harry her to bitter tears. So she flew from Lest'elohan, my fair kingdom, to seek her Elf-lover in his domain. My father was made to despair by her self-imposed exile and did not suffer her parting. Therefore, he sent his rangers to retrieve her. Alas, they may have done so, but for the sharp bite of thy cruel sword.''
'Why would you subject yourself to the cruelty of the man who fell your sister and claim to want to help him?''
''Because I perceive that thou art no villain, but rather misguided in thine actions. I would know what made thee commit such villainy when my sister was but a stranger to thee and had not done thee hurt. And, least not of these, I pity thee.''
I succumbed to bitter weeping again for a third time before revealing to the maiden my sad tale of how my family was slain. Bright tears wet her white cheeks as she heard it. In that moment, I lost my fear and anger of the Gaiad. Seeing what I had lost, the maiden spoke to me this way: ''Mine heart is made to grieve at thy tale, so grim is it to mine ears. Yet, these tears that wet my cheeks are a mystery to thee. How so?''
''Long have I loathed your folk, for the hate of Men for the lords of the woods run deeply. Here in my despair, it is an unbearable sadness to watch a maiden such as you shed tears for the most pitiful of Men. I am unworthy of your sweet tears.''
''Mine own father, the chieftain, hath affirmed that thou shalt perish on the ''morrow for thy crime ere the day is waxed. But I cannot suffer thy death now. Thy tale moves me to more than pity alone, but rather to act to save thy life. Let this despair pass from thee. For I shall return with hope ere long.'' Then, as if swept away by the wind, the maiden was spirited from my sight.
When the maiden returned some time later to my cell, she cast her gaze warily about her and revealed a black ring of keys in her hand. Then she unlocked the door to my cell. I was about to say something to her when she warned: ''The guards shall hear thee but for thy silence.''
So I held my tongue and merely watched as she opened the cell door. Freedom! It was returned to me with the sweetness of a brisk wind rolling along the nape on a hot summer's day. With a grace unknown to the daughters of men, the maiden led me past the guards to the courtyard beyond the dungeon where the moon's silver light leapt out at me through the canopy of the approaching woods.
The sweet scent of apple blossom was in the air. There were horses gray and brown and white, without bit or saddle, trotting about the wide green meadows and rolling hills and budding heather fields about me. A soft wind caressed my cheek and hurled my unkempt hair gently onto my face. Such a paradise could only have existed previously in my dreams. But I could not tarry. So I followed the maiden through woods to the shore of a lake where a boat rested.
''Take this boat and row beyond the mists until thou art brought to dry land again. Then thou must take to the woods with the items I have prepared for thee and make for safety beyond this country which my people keep. There will be many sentries about. So thou must be vigilant or thou wilt suffer grim hurt from my people.''
''I know not how to repay you for your kindness, fair maiden.''
''I would that thou keepest safe, Pryde. That alone is recompense for whatever aid thou receivest now.''
''I shall do so. May whatever gods you worship protect you in all your endless days. I shall never forget you, Maiden. I ask only that you tell me your name that it may ever hold me in high spirits.''
''I am hight Kirðras, daughter of Kirlomoenen.''
''A fitting name for such a beautiful maiden, Kirðras.''
Then, as the stars shone high above us and the moon bathed us in its ethereal glow, I did something I thought I would never do. I kissed her—a maiden of the Gaiad-folk. We embraced long, standing breast-to-breast, the longing for each other apparent in the glint of our eyes. No words were uttered between us afterwards. In silence, I made for the boat that Kirðras had given me and shoved it into the silver waters of the lake. I sat down and let my eyes fall upon Kirðras' once more as the wind frolicked through her hair and splayed her gray gown like the waves upon the sea. But the thick mist that hung above the lake began to shroud our vision from one another. At first, I merely let the boat drift from the shore. Then I took up the oars and began to row. How I longed to embrace Kirðras. But she faded from my sight and into the mists as though she were merely a dream. Slowly, the mists rolled back along the surface of the gloomy lake. Then, I saw Kirðras no more.
The first rays of dawn streaked across the dark sky, visible only to me through the gape of fir branches in the murky woodland canopy above me. I had only the thought of beautiful Kirðras to accompany me on my brisk trod through Gaiad-country and listened with delight to the melodious songs of the thrushes, larks, and robins that fluttered between the trees. But no sooner had I come to the edge of the woods that led from the realm of my captors did I hear the loud blare of a horn that sent a shudder through my soul. No other warning did I need to know that the Gaiad had discovered my escape or that they had uncovered my trail. So I cast aside my stealth for need of haste and made for the basin of the approaching vale below me.
There was then held a pursuit over many days, not unlike the one in which I was made captive. But this time I had no steed to aid me as before. My only hope was to flee north on foot to my own lands where I could perhaps reach the castle of my beloved king that I might have his protection.
Many days later, I was come to my own lands near the southern straits of Kinderland where my king kept his castle. I had neared the wide moors of the steep countryside and let fly my weary legs as swiftly as they would. I was exhausted by my long journey, but could not rest. For the Gaiad were pressed upon me now and would not long bring me to my doom if I tarried but for a moment. But fate was a cruel creature to weave matters as she did. For even as I hastened through wild brush to make my escape, I came upon a band of men attacking an Elf-maiden who was shrieking and clutching her small child to her breast. At first, I had a mind to let the matter be as it was of no consequence to me. But something pressed my mind—an urge, no less, to intervene as I thought of how much the frightened Elf reminded me of the Gaiad-maiden whom I showed no such pity to.
Anger welled up within me, not unlike when I had first discovered that my family had been murdered. Whether such anger was born from my grave loss or regret of my slaying of Kirðras' sister, it was then that I knew that I had to act. My wife's face leapt into my mind as I drew the sword Kirðras had placed in the boat that had born me from the woods of her people. It's golden blade sung as it slid free from its scabbard. The brilliance of the sun above made the gilded weapon glow like a yellow flame as I charged into the fray of men.
''Let this maiden be or I shall have at you!'' I cried. The men turned to look at me, appearing more upset than surprised by my presence.
''Be on yer way, man! This isn't yer business!'' I was told by one of the men.
''Yea! Get ye gone, now, or ye'll regret it!'' cried another.
''I'll not let you harm that Elf!'' I shot back, the rage in me ever rising to my own surprise.
''Why bother yerself with matters that ain't yer concern? This wench accosted us and she'll suffer for it!''
''Why would an Elf-maiden accompanied only by her child dare to accost a band of men bearing arms? Not likely, I say! I declare that I shall hew the man who would dare to smite this maiden.''
The brigands took my words as insult and attacked me with their crude pick-axes and daggers. Strife was made between
us in which the band of men that I numbered at six was defeated by my deft hand. For haggard though I might have appeared to them, I was no mere brigand wielding a sword, but rather, a stout knight who had campaigned long in the king's wars and bearing mighty arms such as no man had ever forged. They were all slain, the brigands, save one who bade me spare his life. So I stayed my hand and approached him carefully only to recognize the shiny ring of gold on his pinky finger.
''Do tell where you found that ring and I shall not smite you,'' I said to the brigand.
''It is a gift to me, from one of my companions whom you slew with your sword,'' he replied.
''You would dare to trick me with lies even now when I hold your very life in my hand?''
''It be no lie, dear sir! We chanced upon a maiden north of these woods at her cottage. We were hungry and thirsty after long travel. We asked the maiden for food and water. But after she gave us some trifle meal, she said she had no more to spare and gave us some tale of how her food stores were low. She bade us let her and her children be seeing us rough men. But we were angry and had at her.''
''What befell this maiden, pray tell?''
''We beat her good, the miserable wench! Said she had a lord in the king's army. Said if he returned