Of Gods and Elves

chapter One


Millet, Maybell and Malstisos made their way toward Hazrah. The first snows began to fall just as they had rounded the western end of the Razor Edge Mountains. Luckily, the snow was light and didn’t bar their way, but Millet feared for Maybell’s health nonetheless. As strong as she was, he knew the long days of travel and the cold weather took a toll on her aging body. He and Malstisos kept a close eye on her and did their best to lighten her burden, though she didn’t make it easy for them. Maybell had an annoying habit of taking on extra work, especially if they tried to do anything she saw as her duties.

Aside from the dropping temperatures and light snow, travel was pleasant. Malstisos was open, friendly, and free with his humor. Millet couldn’t help being pleased to have him along, and his skill as a hunter came in handy, as did his ability to know when harsh weather was coming.

They had done well avoiding other travelers, and only once had they been forced to seek shelter at a village inn. Malstisos insisted on accompanying them, stating his desire to see humans from other parts of the world. At first Millet and Maybell objected, but soon realized that he could remain unnoticed even in a crowded tavern.

They were three days outside of Hazrah when they encountered the first indication that things had changed in the north since Millet had last been there. Malstisos stopped abruptly and led Millet and Maybell into the nearby brush.

“Wait here and keep silent,” he whispered, then disappeared into the woods parallel to the road.

Maybell and Millet did their best to stay hidden and keep the horses calm, but as the minutes passed, the cold set in and Maybell began to shiver uncontrollably. Millet held her close in an attempt to keep her warm. At first, she tried to shake him off, but eventually relented. Thirty minutes later Malstisos returned, his expression grave.

“Five soldiers are camped three-hundred yards down the road,” he said. “They bear a standard I’m unfamiliar with, though admittedly I know little of human nations in the north.”

“What did it look like?” asked Millet.

“Red with a gray background, and it bore the image of broken scales.”

Millet and Maybell looked at each other. “That’s the standard of Angrääl,” grumbled Millet. “We must not let them see us.”

“We should go around then,” said Malstisos. He turned to Maybell, “I’m sorry, but we cannot rest yet.”

“I’ll be fine,” said Maybell. “It’s not riding that bothers me, it’s standing still that chills old bones. Lead on.”

Malstisos led them northeast away from the road and through forest. Millet could feel the wind pick up as it howled through the bare limbs of the trees. They rode for two hours before Malstisos finally called for a halt and built a small fire.

“Rest here,” said Malstisos. “I’ll scout ahead.” He pulled a small flask from his pack and handed it to Maybell. “Drink this. It will help you stay warm.”

“What is it?” she asked. “Not jawas tea I hope.”

Malstisos smiled warmly. “It’s elf brandy,” he said. “A small sip should take the chill away. I’ll return before dawn.” He strode off into the woods.

Millet couldn’t help but look worried, watching Maybell’s hands tremble as she lifted the flask to her lips.

“I’m fine,” said Maybell. “Quit looking at me like that.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “But please understand I’m only thinking of your well-being. Even a young man couldn’t stand this cold for long.”

“Then worry about yourself,” she said. The warm rush of brandy filled her, putting color back in her cheeks. “I may be an old woman. But, you’re no spring chicken.”

Millet laughed as Maybell passed him the flask. “Point taken.”

Neither of them was able to sleep. The fire and the brandy kept them warm, but soon the howl of wolves mixed with the howl of the wind.

“How close do you think they are?” asked Maybell, trying her best to hide her fear.

“Not far from the sound of it,” he answered. “But don’t worry. Wolves rarely trouble travelers, and they won’t come near the fire.”

Malstisos returned just as the sun broke the horizon. “There is a garrison due east of here bearing the same standard as the other soldiers,” he said. “But I found a way around that should keep us out of sight.”

“If they have built a garrison this close to Hazrah, then it’s likely they’ve already taken the city itself,” said Millet. “The king would never allow a foreign army to go unchallenged this close to the capital.” He turned to Maybell. “There is a mining village a day’s ride from here. I have a friend there that can shelter us while we gather information and form a plan. I don’t want to march headlong into the sights of Angrääl unless there is no other choice.”

“If Hazrah has fallen, this trip may have been for naught,” said Malstisos. “The garrison is organized, and they are well prepared. Whoever leads them is no fool. Entering the city unnoticed may be impossible.”

“If getting into the city unnoticed isn’t an option then we’ll hide in plain sight,” Millet replied. “This is not my first dangerous mission.”

“I may be able to help,” said Maybell. “If your friend can get word to the Hazrah temple then perhaps they can find us a way in.”

“There may not be a temple to contact,” said Millet. “Remember what Salmitaya did to the temples in Kaltinor?”

Maybell’s heart ached at the thought. “I should have killed her when I had the chance.”

“Don’t second guess yourself,” replied Millet. “Your actions were correct and merciful. I, for one, am glad you spared her. Once her masters discover her failure I’m sure they will be less than pleased. I doubt that her comfortable life in Kaltinor will last much longer.”

“I hope you’re right.” Maybell wiped a tear from her cheek.

Millet explained to Malstisos their position relative to the mining village so that he could scout it for patrols. They were forced to change direction three times to avoid detection. When they reached the edge of the village, they hid behind some bushes and watched for a time. When no soldiers were in sight, Millet told Maybell and Malstisos to wait while he entered and made contact with his friend.

“I don’t like you going alone,” said Maybell.

“Until we know what’s going on we can’t risk being taken together,” he replied. “I'll need to talk to Markus and make sure it’s safe.”

“Don’t worry, Maybell,” said Malstisos. “If he is taken, I will free him.”

“Fine,” said Maybell, scowling. “Who is this Markus person anyway?”

“He’s the foreman of the Kessel copper mine,” said Millet. “He and I were good friends when we were young.”

“How do you know you can still trust him?” she asked.

“I don’t. But when we were young he was the most honest and dependable man I knew. Besides, it’s either this, or we ride blindly into danger. I’d rather try to escape from here than from the city gates.”

“If you are captured be certain to make enough noise so that I know to come get you,” said Malstisos.

“Absolutely,” Millet agreed.

Millet scanned the area one last time, making certain he wasn’t being watched, and then hurried to the nearby street. Malstisos handed Maybell the flask of elf brandy, which she gratefully accepted. An hour later Millet returned.

“I spoke to Markus,” he said. “He offers us food and shelter.”

“What news of Hazrah?” asked Malstisos.

“It’s not good,” he replied. “We can discuss it at Markus’ house. Keep your hood on until we’re inside. Markus knows you’re with me so there will be no reason to hide your identity once we get there.”

Millet led them to the street and into the village. It was typical of a mining town, mostly single story, wood buildings, built for utility rather than aesthetics. The streets were empty, aside from a few workers on their way home from the mines.

Being the mine foreman, Markus lived in one of the larger houses in the village, but even so, it was not much bigger than the average farmhouse. Millet tied the horses to a nearby hitching post then walked straight up and opened the door. The interior was modest yet comfortable. A sturdy dining table was already set for the evening meal at the far end of the great room, and a fire crackled in the fireplace just inside the door. A balding, stocky man with deep-set eyes, and a weathered face stood next to the table, slicing a loaf of fresh bread. He looked up and smiled as the party entered.

“Welcome,” said Markus. “Please have a seat. Supper will be ready shortly.”

“Thank you, old friend,” said Millet. “This is Maybell and Malstisos.”

Markus walked over and took Maybell’s hand. “My lady, you are most welcome. A Priestess of Ayliazarah is sorely needed here.”

Maybell curtsied. “I cannot tell you how grateful we are for your hospitality.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he replied and turned to Malstisos. “And you must be the elf Millet told me of. Truly the world is changing.”

Malstisos smiled and bowed low. “I am at your service and in your debt.”

Markus smiled broadly. “Not at all. Millet is an old friend and his friends are mine.”

They sat at the table while Markus passed around the bread and retrieved a small pot of beef stew from the stove. “I’m sorry that there’s not more, but this is considered a feast in these dark times.”

Millet reached in his purse and brought out a gold coin. “Take this.” He pushed the coin to Markus.

Markus pushed the coin back shaking his head. “I don’t need the money, my friend. It's food we lack here. Most of what we have is sent north to feed the armies of Angrääl. I’m one of the lucky ones. As foreman I’m given extra provisions.”

“So the Dark Knight has taken Hazrah,” said Malstisos.

Markus stared down at the table. “He has. And he’s brought misery with him. Of course, they call him the Reborn King and not the Dark Knight.”

“How long ago did his armies arrive?” asked Malstisos.

“Three months ago. But his agents were here long before that. They negotiated our surrender. We didn’t even put up a fight.”

“Why not?” asked Millet. “The King’s army could have held out for years. The city walls have never been breached.”

“I don’t know,” said Markus. “Those kinds of questions land you in prison these days. As far as the King’s army, most have been sent north to Angrääl. Some have returned carrying the banner of our conquerors. It’s like The Dark One is trying to eat the world and we're the appetizer.”

“What of Lady Nal’Thain?” asked Millet. “Is she well?”

“If that’s why you’ve come, you’ve wasted your time,” replied Markus. “No one has seen or heard from the house of Nal’Thain for weeks. The rumor is that the Lady has been sent north, but I don’t know how much truth there is in that.”

Millet lowered his head. “What of her son?”

“I’m afraid that I have no news of Jacob’s whereabouts. There are whispers that he was the one who convinced the King to surrender. After that, he seems to have vanished.”

“I don’t believe it,” cried Millet. “The son of Lee Nal’Thain would not betray his people.”

“I only know what I hear,” said Markus. “Whether there is truth in this... who knows?”

“We must find them,” said Millet. “Can you get us inside the city?”

“I doubt it. They check everyone coming in or out, but I may be able to help. I make monthly production reports to the city clerk and the next one is due in two days. I could try and contact them for you.”

“What about the temples?” asked Maybell. “I could claim to be sent from Baltria. Certainly they wouldn’t stop a priestess.”

“I hate to be the one to tell you this,” said Markus, unable to meet Maybell's eyes. “But the temples have been shut down. They house Angrääl’s soldiers now.”

“What?” she cried. “Foul beasts!”

“I’m sorry,” said Markus. “Worship of the Gods is forbidden now. Most of the priestesses and monks were sent north for re-education a week after the soldiers arrived.”

“I still can’t believe the King has done nothing to stop this!” said Millet.

“The time is long past for the King to take action,” said Markus.

“Is there no resistance?” asked Malstisos.

“There was at first. But Angrääl crushed it. I know you won’t want to hear this, Millet, but it was Jacob Nal’Thain who helped them rout out the resistance. This I saw with my own eyes.”

Millet shook his head, rubbing his temples. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, finally. “I was sent to retrieve my lord’s family, and I will do as he has commanded me.”

Markus sighed. “Very well. Tonight you and your friends will sleep in the basement. I will leave in the morning. But I cannot promise that I will succeed.”

“I thank you for your help, old friend,” said Millet. “I know how much you’re risking by aiding us. You can come with us if you wish. We can offer you sanctuary.”

“My place is here with my men. I cannot abandon them.”

“I understand,” said Millet.

After their meal, Millet retrieved their packs from the horses which were then put in a small stable behind the house. Markus gave each of them extra bedding and led them into the basement. “Please keep as quiet as possible,” he said. “The soldiers rarely check my house, but a little extra caution won’t hurt.” He walked up the stairs and closed the door. The clank of the latch echoed through the basement.

“I don’t like being trapped,” said Malstisos. “If we are discovered, there is only one way out.”

“I don’t like it either,” agreed Maybell.

“What choice is there?” said Millet. “We are asking Markus to take a huge risk. If he says we should stay here, I must trust him.”

“I hope your trust is justified,” remarked Malstisos. “Hardship can do strange things to a person’s loyalty.”

“I don’t like what you’re implying,” said Millet. “I’ve known Markus for more than forty years. He is as solid and honest a man as I’ve ever known.”

“We shall see,” said Malstisos.

They set up their bedding and went to sleep. Bad dreams troubled Millet and he woke up several times. Eventually he decided to forgo sleep and spent the rest of the night huddled in a corner. After a few hours, he heard the door slowly creak open. Malstisos woke immediately and drew his knife. Maybell stood up and moved behind him.

“What?” Millet asked in dismay.

“There are a dozen soldiers upstairs,” Marcus announced as he descended the steps. “If you don’t disarm they’ll burn you alive down here.”

“Traitor,” shouted Millet. His hand shot out and his fist landed solidly on Markus’ jaw. Markus stumbled back and fell to the ground.

“It’s not my fault,” said Markus, rubbing his jaw. “You were seen coming here by one of their spies. Please understand, if I didn’t do this they would have killed me along with half my men.”

Malstisos glared furiously at the door. “I say we fight our way out.”

“No,” said Millet. “Let me speak to them first.” He looked down at Markus. “Lead me upstairs.”

Without a word, Markus got up and led Millet up the stairs and through the door. He entered the main part of the house and immediately saw twelve soldiers in full armor, swords drawn.

With them was a man in a dark blue velvet suit, carrying a white ash walking stick. He had long, dark blond hair and fair skin. He smiled as Millet entered.

“You must be Millet,” he said. “My name is Brandis. I am here to escort you and your companions to Hazrah if you wish.”

“We will not be used as hostages,” said Millet. “If that is your intent you might as well kill us now.”

Brandis laughed. “No, no, no, you are not my captives, you’re my guests.”

“And if I decide not to accept your hospitality,” said Millet. “What then?”

“Leave if you wish,” he said. “But I believe you are here at the direction of the former Lord Nal’Thain. Is this not so?”

Millet remained expressionless and silent.

“No need to answer,” said Brandis. “I already know. Markus was kind enough to fill me in. It’s a good thing he did. Otherwise, you may have been foolish and tried to sneak into the city. Naturally, you would have been caught. Heaven knows what may have happened before I could get to you.”

“What do you want with us?” Millet demanded.

“To help. You’re here to retrieve the Nal’Thain family, and I’m here to see that you accomplish your task.”

Millet looked warily at Brandis. “So we can simply take them and leave?”

“Certainly,” he said. “Jacob Nal’Thain is a troublemaker we would be happy to be rid of. As for Lady Penelope, you have a choice.”

“What might that be?” asked Millet.

“She has traveled north to the court of the Reborn King,” said Brandis. “It will take several weeks for her to return. You may wait, or you may take young Jacob and leave.”

“If you are being truthful, then have Jacob brought here,” said Millet. “Now.”

“I see your suspicions abound.” He chuckled. “As you wish. But I must ask that you remain here until he can be brought.” He turned to leave. “Oh, I nearly forgot. You must surrender your weapons first, of course.”

Millet made no move to comply.

“Come now,” said Brandis. “They will be returned when you leave. A small thing to ask all things considered.”

Millet nodded and went back down to the basement. Malstisos was still standing in front of Maybell with his knife drawn.

“I could hear your conversation,” said Malstisos. He handed Millet his knife. “We have little choice.”

“I’m sorry for this,” said Millet. “Clearly Markus is no longer the man I knew.”

“You are not at fault,” he replied. “There was no way for you to know.”

“If you would all join me,” called Brandis from upstairs.

Millet led Maybell and Malstisos up and handed Brandis their weapons.

“Thank you,” said Brandis. “Very wise choice.”

“What happens now?” asked Millet.

“Now we wait,” he answered. “One of my men is on his way to bring young Jacob. Then you may leave. That is unless you choose to wait for the Lady Nal’Thain.”

“If she still lives,” said Millet.

“As I told you,” said Brandis. “She is at the court of Angrääl. I have no reason to lie.” He looked at Malstisos. “I am honored to have an elf among us.”

Malstisos said nothing.

“No reason for apprehension,” continued Brandis. “My lord holds your kind in high regard. Certainly you know of our offer of friendship.”

“I know of the lies your master has told,” said Malstisos. “Empty promises of glory made to a generation that still clings to the past. You will find that I am not as easily swayed as some.”

“Not empty promises,” replied Brandis. “Soon we will spread our message of hope throughout the land, and when that happens those that have seen the wisdom of our cause will benefit most.”

“Your cause?” snapped Maybell. “You’ve destroyed temples and murdered their followers.”

“Ah, the priestess.” Brandis sneered. “I had almost forgotten about you.”

Malstisos moved his body between Maybell and Brandis.

“There’s no reason to be alarmed. I have no intention of harming any of you.”

Maybell seethed with rage. “You've killed innocent priestesses and monks. You are an abomination.”

Brandis laughed and shook his head. “I haven’t murdered anyone. Your own people betrayed you, not me, and not my master. All we have done is told people the truth.”

“And what truth is that?” asked Millet.

“The Gods are as corrupt as the people who serve them. Your elf friend will certainly agree with this. They have caused nothing but harm to man and elf. They are greedy and petty, and now thanks to the Reborn King, they are gone.”

“You assume that all elves believe the old tales,” said Malstisos. “Not all of us blame the Gods for the split.”

“You are wise,” said Brandis. “You do not take what you are told at face value. Sadly, in this case, you are wrong. It was the Gods that cursed the elves. But what you do not understand is they cursed man as well. They turned us into slaves. We were sent on a path of endless destruction without guidance. However, that horrible chapter of history is coming to an end. Soon the world will be at peace, and both elf and human will be able to live as they were meant, in peace.”

Maybell sneered. “You speak of peace and freedom, and yet here you stand, conquerors and invaders.”

Brandis laughed. “We have taken Hazrah without spilling blood. When in history has that happened? We allow you and your friends to leave in peace, even though you have sworn to destroy us. We give you Lee Nal’Thain’s family as a token of good will and still you accuse.”

“You have tried to have us killed,” replied Millet. “You’ve destroyed temples and the Gods only know what you’ve done to the clergy. Whatever your motivations are for letting us go, I suspect they are part of some grander design. You allow us to leave because it serves your needs to do so, though, I don’t yet know what they are.”

“The attempts on the lives of you and your friends were unfortunate,” he said. “The people responsible have been dealt with. Of course, I don’t expect you to believe that, and frankly, it doesn’t matter. You will think my master is your enemy until the very end. But when that end comes, you will see the truth.”

“I see the truth now,” Millet shot back. “And unless you force me to do so, I will hear no more of your lies.”

“As you wish,” said Brandis. “My soldiers and I will wait outside.” He spun on his heels and left the house. Markus and the soldiers followed close behind.

“Do you think they actually intend to let us just walk out of here?” asked Maybell.

“Millet was correct,” said Malstisos. “If it serves their objectives they will. This may be a deception, but I cannot divine the purpose. If they want us, they have us.”

“We’ll know soon enough,” said Millet.

Two hours later, the door opened, and Brandis entered. Behind him was a tall, thin youth, no more than twenty, with light brown hair that fell in loose curls to his shoulders. He was dressed in tan leathers and boots, and carried a pack over his shoulders. His face was strikingly like Lee’s except a bit more rounded at the chin, and his eyes were deep green and more widely set.

“I give you Jacob Nal’Thain,” said Brandis.

Millet looked Jacob over for several moments. “How do we know this is Jacob?”

“Who else would I be?” Jacob sneered. “And who are you?”

“I am Millet Gristall, the personal assistant to Lee Nal’Thain.”

“My father?” said Jacob. “So this is what you brought me here for? You drag me from my cell for this?”

Millet cocked his head. “Your cell?”

“Young Jacob has been somewhat of a trouble-maker,” Brandis explained. “We have had to lock him away for the good of the city.”

“I see,” said Millet. He turned to Jacob. “Where is your mother?”

Jacob glared. “This dog knows where she is. In Angrääl, where they took her.”

“How many times must you be told?” asked Brandis. “She went of her own free will.”

“I’ll never believe that. And if you expect me to go willingly with these people just so they can kill me when we're out of sight, then you’re mistaken. Kill me now, for all to see.”

Brandis sighed. “For the last time, if we wanted to kill you we would have done so long before now. You will either go with these people or leave on your own. Either way, I tire of you and will no longer tolerate your presence.”

“You will come with us,” said Millet. “I was sent to retrieve you and your mother. Being that your mother is not here, I will at least retrieve you.”

“Why should I believe you?” asked Jacob. “What’s to prevent you from killing me the moment we’re out of sight?”

“As much as I hate to admit it,” replied Millet. “Brandis is correct. If they wanted you dead, they wouldn’t need such an elaborate deception. In fact, we are in more danger from you, than you are from us.”

Jacob thought for a moment. “Very well, I will go with you, for now.”

“Good decision,” said Brandis. “I’ll leave you to it then.” He started to the door. “Please tell Lord Nal’Thain that we will allow him to see his wife any time he wishes. And as for Gewey Stedding, the Reborn King still wants his friendship. Please convey the message to both of them, if you would.”

“I’ll tell them,” replied Millet.

“Good,” he said. “You will not be hindered when you leave. I’ll wait outside until you’re ready.” He turned and left.

“I’m not sure what your game is,” said Jacob. “But if you wish me harm, even your friend the elf may find that difficult.”

Malstisos stepped forward. “If I wanted you dead, I would have killed you the second that door closed. It is not we that need prove our intentions.”

“I agree,” said Millet. “You look like my lord, but I have no way of knowing for sure.”

“What do we do?” said Maybell. “Certainly we cannot trust that this is not a deception.”

“We won’t,” said Millet. “There is one way of finding the truth. But in order to do so I must contact Lord Starfinder.”

“I’ve heard that name before,” said Jacob.

“Of course you have,” he replied. “That was the name of your father before you were born, and it is the name he goes by now. I’m sure your mother has mentioned it.”

“No,” he said. “I heard it when I was in prison. The Dark One wants him. They mean to kill him.”

“They’ve already tried,” said Millet with a wicked smile. “So far they’ve failed miserably.”

“Enough talk,” said Malstisos. “We need to leave while we still can.”

“Agreed,” said Millet. “We’ll head west for now.”

“Then what?” asked Maybell. “We can’t bring him back with us. At least not until we know with certainty he is who he says he is.”

“I have no intention of being taken anywhere,” said Jacob. “As soon as I’m able, I’ll be going my own way.”

Millet looked irritably at the boy. “I suggest you accept our company for the time being. At least until we’re away from here.”

Jacob looked disgusted and walked to the door. “I’ll be outside when you’re ready.” He slammed the door behind him.