Louie The Rune Soldier Fan Fiction ❯ Valiant Champion Or Something Like It ❯ Chapter 6

Valiant Champion or Something Like It

 

By: AZ Mark II

 

Disclaimer: ADV Films and/or J.C. Staff own this one, not me.

 

-

 

In the uninhabited woods far from the nearest town, a slim blonde figure lightly leapt from branch to branch. Of all the elves in the village, why am I always the one to sent to investigate human sightings? thought the elf girl sourly. At barely one hundred and fifteen years of age, she was the youngest to be given a seat on the council, so she supposed that this was a small price to pay for that. Still, you would think that some of the others would get this kind of job once in a while, she silently carped, looking for signs of the small human band that been reported by some elves a few weeks before.

 

Generally, the elves preferred that humans stayed out of their woods, and sightings of humans in what they considered to be their territory had to be investigated. So, Celecia had been sent to survey the reported incursion site. So far, she hadn't spotted anything untoward. “Probably a party of hunters or adventurers taking a shortcut,” she muttered to herself. “Hey! Maybe it's Louie and his party!” she smiled. It had been a while since she had seen the long-haired weirdo and his group of women.

 

Her thoughts were interrupted when she spotted a pile of carelessly-discarded bags in the middle of the forest. Alighting on an oak limb, Celecia scowled at the baggage. “Do they have to litter everywhere they go?” she complained out loud. Looking around, she began to wonder why there were no signs of a camp or a fight, or even any sign that the party had continued on. Why would they bring this stuff all the way out here, dump it, then go back the way that they came? she asked herself, studying the baggage.

 

After she was satisfied that he baggage was unguarded, she dropped lightly to the grass and approached it. Looking it over, she was more curious than ever. This is some well-made traveling baggage, she noticed. And all the stuff is still inside it, she discovered, opening each bag. Finding a handful of jewelry in the top of one bag, she began to get an ominous feeling. They left the jewelry when they dumped the baggage? That isn't like humans at all, she knew. Methodically, she began to lay out some of the clothing.

 

“Women's clothing,” she immediately saw. She had a mustard-colored skirt, the pile of assorted jewelry and a mustard-and-bronze wrap. Her hand brushed against a ring, and she felt a tingle. “Magical?” she breathed, having instinctively jerked her hand away from the ring. Someone wasn't stupid enough to rob a magician, were they? she wondered. In another bag, she found a purple body suit. This kind of reminds me of that girl I went on that trip with…the one Louie knows… she tried for a moment before she recalled the red-haired woman. Ila!

 

“But, why would her stuff be way out here in the backend of gone?” she asked herself out loud. I don't recall her being the kind that goes on adventures and she seemed to prefer city life to breaking trail through freaky weather, the elf mused. Recalling the woman's face, she studied the bags and jewelry. From what I recall, this is her normal daily wear jewelry, so… she considered it. I can only surmise that something has happened to the human girl, she sighed.

 

Nimble as a squirrel, she was up the tree trunk and off in a heartbeat, the pile of jewelry neatly bundled into the shoulder-wrap and slung over her shoulder. Smiling, she swiftly made her way toward her new destination: the cabin where that party member of Louie lived. It was far enough outside Ohfun's capital to get to without running into too many humans, and if anyone knew where Louie was, it would be the barbarian woman. Not that they were too friendly, but as long as Louie likes me, I have nothing to fear from them, she thought smugly. “I'll just tell them where to get her stuff later,” she thought out loud as she increased her pace some.

 

-

 

“At least our raft is well-made and stable,” said Melissa. The four of them were on their raft, which was currently at the mercy of the winds and currents in Crooked Loch. The previous morning, they had launched their raft, riding the gradually-building currents of the small tributary that drained the peaceful lake they had been camped at. With four layers of logs lashed and pinned, and two layers of carefully woven evergreen boughs between the log layers, the raft was steady and rode sufficiently high in the water. Once the raft was floated, the party had meticulously stacked and secured their supplies and loot along the center spine of the raft before pulling themselves aboard and using two pusher poles to nudge their transport into the current.

 

It had gone well for the first day, with the tributary being easily managed and not too rough. Louie and Genie had handled the poles, while Melissa managed the make-shift steering drag. Merrill was positioned at the bow to keep a sharp eye out for submerged logs, rapids, or shoals. After a couple of mud bars, the group had gotten themselves settled, and the rest of the day had moved by fast. As the sun began to slip behind the horizon, they had caught sight of the Crooked Loch ahead. Merrill had not noticed the shift in currents until it was too late.

 

The tributary narrowed just before it ran into the Loch, and the sudden depth increase meant that Louie and Genie couldn't reach bottom with their poles. The drag pole had no effect without something to drag against, and with the current running fast and strong, Genie had vetoed the idea of trying to swim the raft to shore. So, helpless, the quartet had sat and watched as they were carried into the deep, cold loch. With nothing else to do, they had gotten what sleep they could.

 

A sudden squall had hit them in the night, barely lasting ten minutes, but completely drenching them. Following the squall, a strong breeze from the north had chilled them, and they had ended up huddled together on the raft for warmth as they drifted in the loch. At first light, Genie and Louie had removed the steering drag from its crude mount, and with the two push poles, had fashioned a sort of clothes line. Once more, the group stripped down and hung their clothes out to dry.

 

“Breakfast is ready,” came Louie's voice as he handed the blonde priestess a side of dried fish and a rough, lumpy chunk of cattail root trail cake. Melissa nodded her thanks, quickly eating the food.

 

“So, what do we do now, Louie?” she asked him, seeing him working on his own fish fillet and bread. Louie shrugged.

 

“Nothing we can do but hope that we get close enough to shore for Genie and I to swim us in,” he said. “Actually, when Ila and I did this, we got hung up on a submerged log in the middle of the river,” he laughed sheepishly. “When we found we couldn't get free, we had to abandon the raft and swim to shore. Her dad was pretty upset that her dress got ruined, and grounded her for three days. Ever since then, she has worn that purple thing and skirt and wrap,” he recalled, grinning like an idiot. “Just in case we ever went rafting again,” he chuckled. “I wonder what she would think if she were here?” he mumbled to himself.

 

“She could probably magic us a way to shore,” contributed Genie.

 

“If she didn't faint,” Merrill joined in.

 

“No, she doesn't faint except when she is suddenly faced with a deadly situation,” Louie immediately defended his best friend.

 

“It would be a bit crowded if she were here,” Melissa said, more to herself than to the others. Looking around, she wondered what Ila would think of the girls being so close to Louie naked. Not that that is the only thing we have done, she recalled, feeling a tingle in her spine. Each of them was silent as the hours passed, the raft almost stubbornly riding the currents in the center of the twisted loch.

 

As it neared noon, the group found themselves sweating from the heat. The actual sunlight wasn't that hot, but the water around them reflected it and raised the temperature. It also presented another issue. “Melissa, you're beginning to burn,” noted Genie, eyeing her friend's creamy white skin. Usually, her dress covered her, but sitting in the sun without a stitch of clothing on left her vulnerable to the sun in places she had no tan to protect her.

 

“Merrill, too,” noted Louie, glancing at the dozing thief. “We better rig up some shelter, Genie,” he said resolutely. Genie was of darker skin tone than the other two girls, and Louie had a fairly good tan from working out without a shirt, so they were in better shape than the other two. “Let's spread a blanket out over the poles to give them some shade,” he said, carefully moving on the raft. Genie nodded, and in short order, there was a small patch of shade for the two. Cramming into the shade, the two were grateful to their fellow adventurers for their concern.

 

“What about you two?” wondered Melissa, Merrill resting close to her.

 

“We'll take a dip in the loch to keep cool; we'll be fine,” Genie dismissed the question. “But if you get sunburned in some delicate areas, you will not like it at all,” she grinned, winking at the blonde.

 

“I see your point,” sighed Melissa. “If only the healing spells of my order worked on something other than wounds of battle,” she carped. Cuts, punctures and broken bones she could do something about, but not sunburn. Looking at her breasts and arms, she studied the slight red tint.

 

“Don't worry,” said Louie, “you aren't burned bad enough to blister or peel if you can keep out of the sun for the next day or so,” he assured her. “Same with Merrill. We caught it early enough, fortunately,” he said. Genie nodded her agreement.

 

“What say we take that dip now, Louie, and check the bottom of the raft. Might as well see if we can spot anything useful in the loch, too,” she suggested. Louie nodded.

 

“Right,” he agreed, he and Genie crouching on opposite sides of the raft. “Be right back, guys,” he said to Merrill and Melissa before he and Genie dove off in synch to avoid tipping the raft. Sighing, Melissa got comfortable against their supplies.

 

“Hey, Melissa?” came Merrill's soft voice.

 

“Yes, Merrill?” replied Melissa, absently draping her arm around Merrill's shoulder. There wasn't a huge amount of shade to be had, after all.

 

“This thing with Louie,” murmured the thief, “is…” she trailed off.

 

“Is it what?” wondered Melissa.

 

“Is it as good as it seems? You and Genie seem to really like sleeping with him, but I don't know if you two are just humoring him or if it really is that good, so…” she sighed.

 

“I can't really compare him to anyone else, since he was my first, and will be my only,” said Melissa calmly. “Genie has more experience, and she seems to think highly of his…size and skill,” Melissa added, blushing slightly. Like so many other things, he is a natural in bed! she thought, a shiver of perverted pleasure wiggling through her body.

 

“So, if I can't enjoy it with him, I probably will never enjoy it,” muttered Merrill.

 

“What?” wondered Melissa, confused.

 

“Huh? Oh! Just something Genie said,” Merrill waved it off. Minutes passed, punctuated by one or the other of the two swimming in the chill waters surfacing for a breath. “Melissa?” she whispered eventually.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Do…you think Louie might be interested in me? Like he is in Ila, you and Genie, I mean!” she asked, sounding worried. “I'm short, and don't have a lot of chest, and I treat him pretty badly most of the time…” she babbled on, only to be silenced by a fingertip on her lips. Melissa tapped her lips with the fingertip.

 

“Louie would never deliberately do anything to hurt you, Merrill,” she unknowingly parroted Genie, “and I can assure you that you have equal standing in his affections as Genie and myself; though,” she paused, giving her smaller friend a crooked smile, “I can's swear that we are on equal footing as Ila in his heart,” she half-joked.

 

“So…?” wondered Merrill.

 

“So if it is to be with anyone, I think you would do best if it were with Louie,” said the blonde. “And you should probably think about doing it before we reach Ohfun and Ila,” she added a heartbeat later. If anyone will object to this, it will be Ila, she knew.

 

“I…” began Merrill, only to break off suddenly as the two swimmers grabbed the raft on opposite sides and pulled themselves aboard once more.

 

“Raft seems fine,” reported Genie, shaking her head to get some loch water out of her ears.

 

“Yeah! You two did an incredible job with the cross-tying and lashing!” Louie praised them.

 

“T…thank you!” stammered Merrill, blushing hard as she thought about how close he had come to hearing the girl talk between her and Melissa.

 

“What about the rest of it?” wondered Melissa. Genie sighed.

 

“This loch is deep; really deep,” she said. “And there are strong currents and undercurrents in there, too,” she replied. “For the time being, we are at the mercy of the loch,” she shrugged.

 

“Well, at least the outlet of the loch is narrow enough and shallow enough that we should be able to get to shore,” Melissa looked on the bright side. “Any idea how long it might take us to reach shore?” she wondered. Genie and Louie glanced at each other.

 

“Few days, probably,” said Genie slowly. Melissa blinked.

 

“I see,” she said tonelessly.

 

“Some adventure,” groused Merrill, pouting.

 

“You can always count your gold, Merrill,” suggested Louie. Merrill immediately lit up, and her hands dove into the stack of tightly-lashed supplies, pulling out one of her pouches of gold. Fishing around, she found a small bit of rag and for the rest of the day, she sat cross-legged in the shade, obsessively polishing every last gold piece in the bag and counting, re-counting and re-re-counting the treasure, mumbling about Darling Jar the whole time.

 

Genie smiled, glancing at Louie as he squatted near the bow of the raft, watching the shore. Yes, we have definitely been underestimating him, she thought fondly.

 

-

 

Littler reigned in, looking around. “I suppose this is as far as we can go today,” he sighed. “Let's make camp,” he directed. Well accustomed to the routine, the party swiftly had the camp pitched, supper cooking, and the horses tended to and picketed. As usual, Isabelle and Littler stood together, studying the map.

 

“Not much progress today,” sighed Littler. They had reached the outlet of the loch two days before, and were making their way along the mountain-facing side of the twisted inland sea. It had been decided that since Louie and his party would be coming out of those mountains, they would most likely make their way down the shore of the loch to the outlet and the nearest town of any significance.

 

After a discussion with Isabelle and Jackinson, Littler had chosen to direct the party up to hopefully meet the other party as they broke trail toward civilization. While the first bit of their journey saw relatively easy travel and a few small, basic fishing and farming stands along the banks, they had passed into the unsettled and rarely-traveled stretches of border land. They had picked their way along close to the bank, since the trees were more scattered there and it was the most likely route for the doubtlessly-tired group to take on their way to the nearest town where they could re-fit and refresh their provisions.

 

Littler had left instructions that if the townsmen at the gate to the town saw a group of adventurers comprised of a priestess of Mylee, a barbarian swordswoman, a small girl and a long-haired man came through that they were to tell them that they were expected in the royal city of Ohfun immediately. Littler also paid a local trader to rush word after the party if Louie's group came into town. Lily had quietly cast a ward on the two gates that would alert her if Louie - carrying Ila's hand-crafted artifacts - entered the town.

 

“It can't be helped,” Isabelle said, studying the map. “We have no idea where they came out of the Razor Peaks, so we have no choice but to check the entire shoreline. It shouldn't take more than a couple of weeks,” she soothed him. Littler nodded.

 

“I know, but we have never been so close to catching them before,” he noted, smiling ruefully. “Never have I heard of a group so difficult to catch, Isabelle,” he said to his priestess. “For being on foot, they cover more ground than a cavalry company!”

 

“True, my prince,” Isabelle agreed. “But what else would you expect from a Valiant Champion?” she asked.

 

“You are confident that we can find their trail?” he asked her. Isabelle nodded.

 

“Between Lily and Jackinson's skills, we shouldn't have a hard time finding their trail. And when we do, there should be no reason we can't catch up to them, given that we are mounted and they are not,” she assured him. “You seem to be frustrated, my champion,” she said, seeing his expression.

 

“Perhaps, Isabelle,” he sighed. “It is more impatience, I think, but it is frustrating that we seem to be getting nowhere in this search,” he admitted. Isabelle glanced behind them to the camp, swiftly accounting for all the other party.

 

“We will find them, my prince,” she said, swiftly leaning over to kiss him. “I am sure of it!” she promised. Littler caught her hand, giving it a quick squeeze.

 

“Thank you for that, Isabelle,” he said. “It makes me feel better to have you here with me,” he said softly. Isabelle blushed.

 

“I am your follower, Littler,” she said quietly. “My place is by your side, just as Melissa's place is at Louie's side,” stated the girl. Only, Melissa's Champion is truly a Valiant Champion, she recalled regretfully. Looking at Littler, she knew that she could never allow him to know that she had lied. My lie will get heavier as time goes on, she thought unhappily, and yet, I must never allow any others to know of my burden.

 

“Isabelle, I want to…speak with you tonight,” whispered Littler. Isabelle blinked away her thoughts.

 

“Of course, my champion,” she said automatically. “Perhaps we should share a watch?” she suggested. Littler nodded.

 

“I was thinking that as well,” he said. “Though, it might be nice to be with you out of the open, as it where,” he chuckled briefly. “Maybe we should pick up a tent for us to share?” he thought out loud. As it was, the party had a large tent that the girls shared, and a smaller one for him and Jackinson to share. Isabelle swallowed back her first impulsive answer.

 

“Whatever you decide is fine with me, my prince,” said the blonde.

 

“Perhaps we could ask if the priestesses and Lily would be agreeable to Jackinson sharing the large tent with them? Lily seemed almost eager to share a room with Jackinson, after all,” he mused.

 

“That would not be appropriate, my champion,” said Isabelle. “The temple has rules about sharing bedding with men; at least, when the priestesses in question are not Followers. High Priestess Jenny would be outraged if word got back to her that acolyte priestesses had shared a tent with a man, I am positive,” she warned him. Littler sighed.

 

“And I have no interest in angering the head of the Mylee order,” he backed off. “And it would probably not be a good thing to have rumors spreading about us,” he said sourly.

 

“There is no shame in a Follower serving her Champion,” said Isabelle, perhaps a bit sharper than necessary. “The temple will not object to…such an arrangement,” she edited her words.

 

“I was actually speaking of the political situation,” Littler confided. “Father told me that he has received official proposals of marriage from several kingdoms, and that before long, he would choose my wife from among the offers. It would be damaging to the negotiations if it became widely known that I was involved with a priestess of the Mylee temple,” he explained. Isabelle considered that. Hmm, she thought, analyzing the situation, that never occurred to me. “In the case of a couple of the proposals, it could even scrap the entire deal,” he added, recalling his father's words.

 

“The temple has no objection to keeping this matter…private,” said Isabelle slowly. “It is, after all, an internal matter,” she said, forcing the emotion from her voice. Littler glanced at the blonde, hearing the strange tone in her voice.

 

“Internal?” he wondered. Isabelle shook her head.

 

“Yes, my prince, internal,” she said firmly, killing the topic. “Has…his majesty said anything about which kingdom is favored?” asked the blonde. Littler blinked, suddenly grasping what she was thinking about.

 

“No, not yet,” he said. “I…would just as soon wed you, Isabelle,” he offered her. Isabelle bit back a sigh.

 

“You cannot, my prince,” she said firmly. “I may be a priestess of the Mylee temple, but I am of common birth. You are the Crown Prince of Ohfun; and the only heir to the throne. There was never a chance of us wedding, my champion,” she said remorselessly. “You have your duties, and I…have mine,” she said, fighting for control over her emotions. Seeing the look on Littler's face, she pasted a smile on her face. “But do not concern yourself, my champion; I will ever be by your side, and will serve you truly until we both die,” she said, reciting the oath.

 

“But…I mean, if I am wedded to some princess, then…?” Littler struggled.

 

“I will ever be your Follower, my champion,” Isabelle said firmly. “Nothing can change that,” she added quietly. The relief on the face of the prince caused mixed emotions in Isabelle.

 

“We should get some supper, my prince,” said the priestess, rolling up the map and turning toward the camp. Littler fell in at her side.

 

“Agreed,” he said, sounding relieved; even eager. “I will see you on second watch?” he murmured to her. Isabelle nodded.

 

“Of course, my champion,” she replied smoothly.

 

-

 

“Impressive,” observed the man, standing by the door. Ila said nothing. “You have figured out how to use it,” he congratulated her. The two were in the room where the artifact was. Ila was in her purple body suit, which was all she had to wear. She had awoken to find herself in a situation she hadn't foreseen. She had been stripped of her magical items, left with nothing but her body suit, and her bags were gone. Her patron had arrived in the room shortly after she had awoken.

 

Ila was not stupid, and she forestalled whatever sinister speech the man must be prepared to deliver. “You are obviously up to no good,” she said before he could speak, “and it is obvious that you have no intentions of letting me go. However, because I am still alive, your lack of magical talent makes me too valuable to kill or seriously injure,” she said, keeping her voice level. “It is clear that this involves the artifact, so you need me to figure out how to work it. How am I doing so far?” she asked.

 

“I like a smart woman,” said the man levelly. “Of course,” he went on, “a smart woman might think to stall or sabotage the artifact,” he noted. Swiftly stepping over to Ila, he grabbed the lock of long hair that reached the small of her back, jerking on it hard enough to pull her head back so he could look at her face. “Don't underestimate me, Ila Auriza,” he warned her darkly, “while I might need you able to speak, there are a lot of other things I can do that won't permanently damage you but will certainly cause you a great deal of pain,” he hissed in her ear. Ila hissed in pain as he reached up with his other hand, grasping her throat firmly, his thumb and forefinger squeezing her larynx. “I don't recommend you be too intelligent, hmm?” he murmured in her ear before licking her earlobe.

 

Releasing her with a light shove, he watched her fall back onto the short bed. “I did my research on you, girl,” he went on in a more conversational tone. “You are the only daughter of the richest merchant in the kingdom, and one of the richest families on the continent. I have already sent a message to your father that states that if a massive ransom is not paid, your body will never be found. This should keep the guard busy for as long as I care to stretch this out. In the meantime, your charms and artifacts have been carried far, far away from here, so even if the Guild does find a way to track them, they will not lead them here. You are my captive, Ila, and if you want to survive, you will do as I say. Is that clear?” the man asked.

 

“Yes, it is clear,” said Ila, rubbing the back of her scalp to help ease the pain from his hair-pulling stunt. Seeing him smile and reach for her again, she moved to head him off. “However,” she said, swatting his hand away from her breasts, “if you did your homework, you will know that I tend to faint in stressful situations. If you plan to use the artifact, you would do well to remember this and do what you can to keep me calm,” she said firmly. He smiled at her, grabbing her wrist with one hand and using the other to cup her right breast.

 

“I can keep you calm, Ila,” he promised. Ila's eyes narrowed.

 

“Forcing yourself on me will not calm me down,” she said frostily. She was all too aware that she wasn't in a position to fend him off physically, but hoped that a solid front and a good bluff might do the job. At least until Louie gets here, she thought to herself wistfully. Ila was absolutely certain that her crush would find her no matter what he had to do or how long it might take. All I have to do is hold on; and do what I can to slow this asshole down, she amended the thought. Louie will come for me, I know he will!

 

Moments that seemed like hours slipped by before the man released her, giving her firm breast a final squeeze and jiggle. “Very well,” he said, “for now at least,” he added. He paused at her door. “Oh, and don't try to go anywhere but here and the room where the artifact is. If you do, my men will hurt you - badly,” he warned her. Ila silently nodded.

 

That had been almost a month ago. Today, she had tried her first live experiment with the device. The subject was one of her captor's men. Ila was sure that there were multiple ways to use the artifact, but had done all she could to hide that knowledge from her captor. She had sold him on the most basic function of the device, which distorted time around an object, either slowing or speeding the passage within the field. With this, you could make an enemy slow as frozen honey, or make yourself incredibly fast. For the test, the man - armed with a bow - had stood in the room where Ila told him to, she had activated the machine, and he had fired as many arrows as he could out the window into a target. His quiver was empty before Ila could draw a single breath.

 

“Deactivate it,” instructed the supposed-adventurer. Ila murmured the counter-spell that switched the machine into standby. His man looked at the boss. “How long do you think it took you to shoot all your arrows?” asked the boss. The archer frowned.

 

“Same as always, boss,” he said, frowning. “Three minutes for sixty shafts.” He looked out the window, grinning. “Nice group, eh?” he grinned.

 

“Not bad,” dismissed the leader. “We're done for now,” he said, tossing his head toward the door. Giving Ila a long, appraising look, the archer exited the room. When he was gone, the man turned to the woman.

 

“Explanation?” he barked. Ila shrugged.

 

“I don't know,” she said indifferently, “but my first hunch is that time is distorted. His perception of how long it took to empty the quiver is hardly a means to determine rather or not time was distorted. If you want to know for sure, you need two accurate mechanical clocks. Put one in the field, and out outside. Watch them for one full hour and see if duration is different.”

 

“Irrelevant,” the man discarded the suggestion. “Let's concentrate on the field,” he switched topics. “How big can you make it? How far can you project it? How long can it be held?”

 

“I have no idea,” replied Ila. “For now, it is what you saw. Ancient artifacts are not always in good shape, and can stop working - or explode - if used too long. This one appears to be in good shape, but then, it is the oldest one I have seen.”

 

“So you want to do more tests?” guessed the man. Ila nodded.

 

“Yes,” she said calmly, “unless you want to find out what the center of a magical detonation is like,” she added carelessly. The man studied her intently for a few moments.

 

“Very well, Ila,” he said. “You have one week,” he added, settling next to the door. Ila turned back to the relic, considering what she had learned. She had thought about using the field to escape, but the more she played with the idea, the more flaws she found in it. If I had the original construction scroll, it might be different, but I don't, she thought. Too great a risk of getting something wrong. Besides, I don't want to leave this thing intact if I can't get it back to the Guild, she determined. Sabotage was out, since she was certain that if she spiked the device, it could immediately come apart, and since it was built to manipulate time…

 

Shaking those thoughts aside, she concentrated on how best to delay the man from making any use of the device.

 

-

 

Celecia studied the small house from the nearest tree, frowning. From the growth of the grass and the condition of the roof, she was sure that the woman who campaigned with Louie - Genie, she recalled - hadn't been there in some time. Thoughtfully tossing and catching the small bundle with Ila's jewelry in it, she considered what to do next.

 

Her debate was interrupted by the sound of running boots, and a moment later, a squad of Ohfun royal guardsmen ran into the small clearing, swords drawn. Blinking in surprise, Celecia ducked back into the concealing foliage to watch. Fanning out, the soldiers intently looked around. Confident that they wouldn't spot her, Celecia continued watching. The leader of the soldiers, a young captain of lance with a scar on his cheek, looked at something in his hand for a moment before looking up, right at where Celecia was hiding. “You in the tree! Come out slowly!” he yelled, bringing his sword to the ready.

 

Celecia frowned. How could they know that I was here? she wondered. An instant later, she recalled one fact she had overlooked. Ila is a magician, and these pieces of jewelry are likely…! she turned to run, but a crossbow bolt whizzed past her ear. The soldiers had surrounded her. “Come down now!” yelled the captain. Looking at the four other crossbowmen aiming at her, she debated her next move.

 

“I am looking for the woman who lives here,” she said, staying behind the largest branches. “I found something that belongs to a friend of a friend of hers in the forest,” she said.

 

“Come out of the tree!” repeated the captain.

 

Celecia wasn't about to do that. “I'm sorry, but I prefer not to,” she said. “Can you give this to Genie?” she asked, tossing the bundle of jewelry at his feet. Can't have them following me, she thought. The captain grabbed the small bundle up, swiftly examining it. Celecia landed lightly in the next tree over. Like I thought, they all watched the jewelry, she thought smugly. Still surrounding the tree, the soldiers hadn't seen her when she slipped past them to the next tree over.

 

“Who are you?” demanded the captain.

 

“Just someone Genie knows,” said Celecia from several trees back. Realizing that the voice was coming from behind them, the soldiers began to frantically look for the elf girl. “Tell her to tell Louie to come to my village and I will talk to him about it,” she called out, her voice fading into the dappled forest.

 

“I can't do that!” yelled out the captain. “No one knows where they are!” Silence was his only reply. Looking at the make-shift pouch in his hand, he swore. “Back to the city,” he said sourly. I'm not looking forward to reporting this to his Majesty, let alone to Master Carwes or the High Priestess, he thought disgustedly. Why is the High Priestess involved in this matter at all? wondered the captain as he led the men back toward the city. I can understand why the head of the Magicians' Guild is involved, since miss Auriza is a magician, by why the head of the Mylee temple? Shrugging off those thoughts, he decided that having to tell the king and the head of the guild was enough of a concern for him. And just how long is she planning to be gone? he wondered of his former comrade in arms. Maybe I should come up here some time when I am not on duty and do some work on her place; it's getting run down, he noted.

 

After the soldiers had been gone a while, Celecia dropped down to the grass from the edge of the trees. She was considering what she had heard. Quickly checking the small, simple house over, she decided that the best course of action for her was to go back to her village and wait. Before she was even half way back to her village, she had changed her mind about her destination.

 

While Celecia was moving through the forest as only an elf could, the captain of the guard was kneeling before Rijarl, giving his report. “We failed, your majesty,” he said quietly. “The talisman that Master Carwes gave me led me straight to her artifacts, as promised,” he said, offering the mustard-yellow pouch to Carwes. “The problem was that whoever was there claimed to have found them in the forest. She apparently wanted to give this to Genie to give to Louie,” he continued.

 

“She?” wondered Rijarl. “Was this woman known to you, Captain?” he asked firmly. “Did you not detain her?” he asked. The captain hid a wince.

 

“We attempted to, sire, but we were unable to capture her. She stayed in the trees the whole time, and other than a few glimpses, none of us got a look at her,” he admitted. “She eluded us and fled the scene after throwing that pouch to us,” he concluded. Carwes had opened the pouch, immediately knowing the items were Ila's. Rijarl glance at Carwes.

 

“They are hers, Carwes?” he asked, seeking confirmation. Carwes nodded.

 

“They are, your majesty,” he said levelly. “I fear she has only one ensorcelled item left to her,” he said, a touch of concern bleeding through.

 

“What does she yet possess?” wondered Rijarl.

 

“Her glasses, my lord,” said Carwes. “They are not significantly spelled, so tracking her with them is virtually impossible, but at least it is something,” he said.

 

“What am I to tell her father, then?” wondered Rijarl, speaking to himself more than to his two advisors. Jenny inclined her head.

 

“I will speak to master Auriza, sire,” she said. “All he need know for now is that it is being looked into,” she said. Looking over Rijarl's head, she met Carwes's eyes. He nodded once.

 

“Recall my son and his party immediately,” said Rijarl. “You can contact Lily, can you not, Carwes?” he asked. Carwes nodded.

 

“I can,” he confirmed. Rijarl nodded.

 

“Inform her by what means you can that by royal order, he and his party are to return here with greatest possible haste,” the king directed. Turning to Jenny, he saw her smiling slightly.

 

“I will have my acolytes prepare, your majesty,” she said. He nodded.

 

“You anticipate me yet, Jenny,” he said. She bowed her head.

 

“Long practice, my king,” she demurred. Rijarl fixed the captain with his gaze.

 

“The army is to prepare to mobilize on my command, captain. Being preparations immediately,” he said.

 

“Sire,” the captain said, saluting the king.

 

“You, however,” the king went on, “will take a force of cavalry and ride to meet my son at the border of Ohfun. You will escort him and his party back to the royal city. Master Carwes will tell you where to go.”

 

“By your command, sire,” confirmed the captain.

 

“Dismissed,” said the king. Once the captain was gone, Rijarl stood and moved from the throne room to his council chamber, motioning Jenny and Carwes after him. Once they were inside the room, he gestured at Carwes, who cast a spell over the room. As soon as he was done, Rijarl got right to the point. “What do you two think is the real meaning of her being kidnapped?” he asked directly.

 

“It could be that it is for her skills as a magician, though she is not the most skilled caster in the guild. Her specialty is artifacts, charms and amulets, which is not an uncommon skill, in truth; though her skill within that field is uncommon,” he said. “Far more likely that she was selected because of her family wealth,” he posited.

 

“I don't know, Carwes,” Jenny said. “The note was given to us as well as her father. If it is a ransom they seek, why bother us with it? They cannot think that King Rijarl will ransom the girl, and all know that the Mylee order does not have dealings with such as them, while the Magicians' Guild is all but obligated to consider this move an attack on the entire guild. Why pick a fight with the Order and the Guild?”

 

“I am also somewhat curious how they lured her out of the city,” mused Rijarl. “Lady Auriza is not know for her wanderlust, after all,” he noted.

 

“Could it not be related to those renegade nobles that we were unable to crush last year?” wondered Carwes. “Perhaps they are trying again to depose you?” he suggested. Rijarl considered that.

 

“This seems a bit…circumspect for them,” he said. “Truthfully, my old friends, I have been taking steps this last year to solve that problem for good,” he admitted.

 

“You put bounties on their heads, and most have either fled or been killed,” stated Jenny. Rijarl chuckled.

 

“As always, you anticipate me,” he said, smiling at Jenny. “Fundoria has been covertly backing them, but with their defeat last year, and the subsequent pressure, Fundoria has withdrawn their support of the rebel factions; the offer of marriage of one of their daughters is proof of that,” he grunted.

 

“But those that remain are the most dangerous ones,” Carwes determined where this was going. Rijarl nodded.

 

“Indeed,” he said. “There are always those who seek gain, and I fear that my meeting with her so openly may have unduly brought her to the scrutiny of those with hidden agendas within my court,” he sighed. “Politics are so much nastier than battles,” he complained.

 

“It is not your fault, Rijarl,” said Jenny softly. “Her station and family name made her more a target than your attention did,” she said.

 

“And yet, this complicates things considerably,” the king noted. The two with the king knew exactly what he meant. “And what of Louie, when he hears the news?” worried the king. Jenny and Carwes exchanged a look. What of Louie, indeed? the thought as one.

 

-

 

Lily flinched slightly, her small hand touching her temple. “Ugh,” breathed the girl. Not far from her, Jackinson noticed the sorceress's discomfort.

 

“Everything ok, Lily?” he asked her, drifting his mount closer to her own horse.

 

“Message from the Guild,” she said, raising her staff a little and murmuring a spell. A moment later, she lowered her staff. One look at her face told Jackinson that the news wasn't good.

 

“My liege,” he called out, his tone telling Littler all he needed to know, the prince swiftly guiding his horse next to the two, Isabelle at his side. “Message from the Guild,” he said, nodding to Lily.

 

“Well, Lily, what news?” asked Littler. Lily didn't immediately answer, her face betraying her internal struggle over something. Isabelle got a tickly feeling in the back of her mind.

 

“You wouldn't be trying to decide if you should tell us or not, would you, Lily?” she asked, a faint edge of suspicion in her voice. Littler blinked.

 

“Isabelle, I am sure that Lily…” he began.

 

“As a matter of fact, Isabelle,” came Lily calm, cool voice, “that is exactly what I am debating,” she said flatly.

 

“Lily!” hissed Jackinson. Her history of betrayal was fresh in their minds, and this puzzling behavior of hers made them jumpy.

 

“Why would you not want to tell us?” wondered Littler. Mutely, Lily held out the small charm, the needle twitching, but seemingly pointing ahead. “You mean, we are actually on their trail after so long?” breathed the prince. Lily nodded.

 

“It isn't a solid reading, but it is the best I have yet gotten,” she said. “Somewhere ahead, perhaps no more than a few days, are Louie and his party; or more accurately, the Ila-crafted charms he carries,” she said, her tone bleeding frustration.

 

“But, what does…” trailed off Jackinson. “We are being recalled, aren't we?” he asked her directly. Lily's lips compressed. “That is why you are arguing with yourself about telling us the message, isn't it?” asked the old soldier. Slowly, Lily nodded.

 

“Who gave you this message?” wondered Littler.

 

“Perhaps we can pretend we didn't get it yet; or maybe we can ignore it,” suggested Isabelle. Lily's lips peeled back from her teeth briefly.

 

“Headmaster Carwes himself sent the message,” she said, her frustration suffusing her words, “and it is not a request, Littler,” she added, her hand making a fist. “We have been ordered to return with all haste by Rijarl himself,” she said. “A company of lancers will meet us at the border to Ohfun,” she added, “and escort us at best speed to the capital.”

 

“Something must be behind this sudden summons,” Isabelle noted.

 

“And it can only be trouble,” said Jackinson. Behind the group, the six priestesses listened silently.

 

“But, they are so close,” said Isabelle wistfully, looking forward. In the distance, she could slivers of the Loch. “Perhaps I and three of the priestesses should continue on until we find them?” she suggested hesitantly.

 

“No, Isabelle,” said Littler firmly. “As much as I appreciate the thought, we are ordered to return, and so we will,” he sighed. “All of us,” he clarified.

 

“Damn!” hissed Lily in an atypical display of anger. So close, but not close enough, she thought angrily. She could practically feel Louie's party in her bones. Feeling a hand on her delicate shoulder, she glanced over to see Jackinson giving her a sympathetic look.

 

“I think that sums up the situation most accurately, Lily,” he said. Littler sighed.

 

“But there is nothing else to be done,” he said, most to himself. Looking at Isabelle, he saw her reluctantly nod.

 

“I agree, my champion,” she said. Looking at the supply wagon and the six acolytes, she shook her head. “Such a pity, though,” she said. Raising her voice, she spoke to the half-dozen white-clad priestesses-in-training. “We are ordered home,” she said. “We will be traveling fast and light, so break down your packs. The wagon and extra gear will be fired, as we have no time to dispose of them, and I am ill-inclined to leave them where they might be misappropriated. Do you understand my orders?” she asked.

 

“Yes, Miss Isabelle!” the six choruses as one.

 

“Each of us will need to take an extra set of saddlebags with grain in them for the horses,” added Jackinson. “Also, be sure that you have all your weapons with you; we might very well need them.”

 

“Jackinson, the horse-bows?” suggested Littler. The old man nodded, moving to retrieve the two composite re-curve bows and saddle quivers from the wagon. Around him, he saw the group swiftly changing out their loads and packs. Isabelle moved among the priestesses, checking their load-out and packs and correcting a few mistakes she saw.

 

While she did this, Jackinson and Littler rotated the mounts through the watering pans and gave them an extra ration of grain. When all was in readiness, the party formed up. “We ride for the border town on the branch of the Foaming River. With the wagon horses, we can rotate mounts as necessary. We will push hard from sunrise to sunset, cold camp at night. I want to be in Ohfun by the fifth day,” he said. Seeing the others nod, he looked once more toward the upper reaches of the Crooked Loch. “Then fire the wagon and let us be off,” he said tightly. Lily cast a fire spell, and the party wheeled and set off at a canter, leaving the flaming wagon behind them.

 

-

 

“Is that smoke?” wondered Merrill, sniffing the air. It was just past nightfall, and the four of them were settled in for another night of drifting on the Loch. Tonight, Merrill had secured the spot with Louie, which was getting to be a sort of event with the three women. The rest of the party sniffed the cool, damn air as well.

 

“Yes, and I don't think it is from a forest fire, either,” noted Genie.

 

“Smells sort of like a burning house,” opinioned Melissa. Sitting up, the party scanned the dark shores, but didn't see any signs of a light from a fire.

 

“Guess it must have burned out before we go wind of it,” mused Louie.

 

“With the prevailing wind being off the Razor Peaks, it means that it is from that shore,” said Genie, pointing to their left. “Maybe from ahead, you think?” she asked the others at large. Melissa nodded.

 

“Yes, though we are close,” she said. In the light of the stars and the moon, she tried to get an idea of how far from shore they were.

 

“Still too far to try and swim, Melissa,” said Louie softly. After a few minutes of vainly trying to determine the location of the smoke they were smelling, the party settled back down.

 

“Well, it probably doesn't concern us anyway,” philosophized Merrill, getting comfortable against Louie's chest, one of her hands absently pulling his arm around her bare form. “So, anyway,” she dismissed the topic of the smoke, “you were saying?” she reminded Genie. The barbarian woman settled onto her back, Melissa close to her, looking up at the stars.

 

“I was saying, Merrill, than if you look at the pole star, then move down to that bright pair of stars near the peaks of the mountains, you are looking at the foot of the Ancient One Who Hunts,” she resumed her tale. “My people have a legend about that,” she began her next story. “Long ago, before we were given the gift of steel by the Learned Ones, we were simple hunters and gatherers in our homelands. Once a year, when the Ancient One Who Hunts filled the sky toward the moon, we would hold our festivals.” Late into the night, the party listened to Genie speak of her people. It was, reflected Melissa, gradually drifting off to sleep with Genie's soft contralto in her ears, the most that Genie had spoken in one sitting in the entire time she had known the tall, strong warrior. It was also the most she had ever said about her people.

 

-

 

“Sir! Ahead!” called out the lead soldier of the column of lancers. The young Captain of the detachment sent to greet Littler and escort him back to the capital moved up the column to see what the lead man was indicating. Ahead of them, on the crest of the next gentle rise, was a lone man, standing directly in the road. He had a bow in hand, but was standing at rest.

 

“What is this about?” wondered the Captain. While Rijarl was not a despot, and certainly not a cruel king, it was generally known that to purposefully block the road before a group of soldiers would get one in deep trouble with the king. And from the posture of the man, there was no mistake about it: he was blocking the road.

 

“What are your orders, sir?” wondered the lead lancer. The captain considered it for a moment.

 

“We will advance on him and see if he gives way,” ordered the young soldier. “His bow could be a danger, so keep your shields ready in case he fires on us. If he does, we will ride him down,” said the captain. Using his arm, he signaled the mounted men, who formed up into a linear formation three wide instead of the traveling formation of staggered pairs. After a moment spent checking his lance, sword and shield, the captain took his place at the head of the formation. “Advance!” he called out, touching his heels to his mount. The column moved forward, gradually gaining speed.

 

As the column bore down on the man, the Captain saw that he wasn't moving. We'll scare him a bit, then, thought the captain, lowering his lance and couching it. Seeing this, the rest of the lancers did likewise. Still, the man didn't move. Something is wrong here, he thought uneasily. No man, armed with a bow or not, stood carelessly in the path of a charging group of lancers. What is he doing?! wondered the captain. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of something in the edge of the woods.

 

It was only for a split second, but instinctively, the captain knew he was in deep trouble. “Charge! Ride him down, and do not stop!” he screamed, rising in his stirrups and lining his lance head up with the bowman's chest as his left arm brought his shield up to cover his chest and most of his head. Ambush from the flanks; has to be! he thought fleetingly. Still, the bowman didn't move. The Captain was certain that each second that the bowman didn't move, the worse his situation got. Maybe we should wheel and attack the party in the woods? No, horses are no good in woods, and especially not with lances. Have to stick to the open, ride hard and hope to make the nearest town. I can order out the garrison of infantry and flush this bunch with support, he decided. “We ride for the garrison!” he screamed over the thunder of hooves and the jingling clink of armor and equipment.

 

-