Chapter 9: The Hunt
Igraine raced through the woods, the mocking battle cries of the centaurs still ringing in her ears. The fallen leaves rustled under her feet while she ran as fast as she could. She hoped to be at a safe distance when her one hour’s head start was over. She knew that she could never outrun the prince and his rowdy hunting companions, but maybe she had a chance if she found a good place to hide. The forest was plunged into darkness. However, a full moon lightened up the sky, shining through the leaves now and then, so she was able to proceed.
She had no idea where she was going, but she assumed that she was fleeing deeper into what seemed to be an older part of the forest. The undergrowth was thicker here, twigs leaving bloody scratches on her face and naked arms as she struggled to find a way through it. The trees looked gnarled and ancient, and they stood closer together now, making it difficult for her to walk between them without stumbling over their roots.
Eventually, she came to a place where the forest became so dense it swallowed the last bit of moonlight passing through the canopy of leaves. Igraine paused for a moment and looked for a way out, but it was pitch dark. She stretched out her arms and made a few cautious steps forward, careful not to run into a tree-trunk. It would be too humiliating if Elathan found her lying knocked out on the forest floor. But the darkness deepened even more, and it was clear that she would never make it to the other side of the woods this way.
Deciding that it was the best to return to where she had come from, she noticed that she had lost her sense of direction completely. Not knowing what to do, she turned to the nearest tree and threw her arms around the trunk. There, she pressed her cheek against the rough bark and closed her eyes.
When she felt a paralyzing fear rising up inside her, Igraine forced herself to breathe steadily. She couldn’t help thinking about Elathan. Since they had united their blood, she was bound to him with heart and soul. Even if he wasn’t near, even if he was the one who sent her into this utter darkness, she still could feel his powerful presence, his strength comforting her.
She imagined him standing in the clearing, motionless like the age-old trees, as his sharp eyes scanned the darkness, searching for her. There was no doubt that he would come for her as soon as the hour had passed, and try to reclaim what was now rightfully his. She didn’t dare to think about what would happen when he caught her. Despite the fact that he was the hunter and she his game, the knowledge that he would find her eventually gave her the courage to move on.
Something tickled her nose, not more than a wisp of air. She opened her eyes and winced when she saw a tiny light ball dancing directly before her face. At first she thought it was a glow worm, but when she took a closer look she recognized a little, human-like creature flying inside the orb, so small she could hardly see it. Instantly, she realized that this must be a fairy, one of the magic beings inhabiting the forest.
Igraine smiled at the fairy, and it answered with a high giggle that sounded like bells on a winter sleigh. She stretched out a finger to touch the tiny creature, who quickly drew aside and flew away, stopping in the air at a few paces’ distance. There it paused and called out to Igraine with its fine, melodic voice. Igraine was so enchanted that it took her a while to realize that the fairy wanted her to follow.
There was no way to know if the fairy would show her a way out of this pitch-dark wood, but so far she had no better idea. Moving on in the direction the dancing light bulb indicated, she passed two trees, the space between them just large enough for her to press through. There was a high giggling from the right, and when Igraine turned her head, there were more little light balls flying towards the place she stood, joining the first one. They danced all around her, whirling around her head until she was dizzy, leaving tiny sparkling stars that lingered a while in the air after they were gone. The night was filled with the fairies' laughter. It sounded like hundreds of silver bells ringing at the same time.
After a while they seemed to form a row and flew ahead, hovering in the air until Igraine began to follow. They led her to a forest path so narrow she never would have found it on her own, then urged her to walk on it. The fairies were constantly swirling around her, their high voices chatting in a language she couldn’t understand.
The trail wound its way through the forest, and she went along with the fairies for a time that felt like forever for her. Amazed by their presence, Igraine nearly forgot that she had to escape Elathan before he caught up with her.
Suddenly the path came to an end, and she saw that they had left the shelter of the trees. She was standing before a vast expanse of open land, another part of the forest hardly visible in the distance. The moon shone brightly, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she could see her surroundings again. Pools of black water were everywhere, with dry ground in between where grass and bushes grew. There even stood some forlorn trees here and there, stretching out their twisted, naked branches to the night sky.
Igraine became aware that she stood at the edge of a moor. There was no sound aside from the occasional call of a night bird. Igraine looked around, realizing that the high-pitched voices of the fairies had fallen silent. The little lights were nowhere to be seen, it was like they had never existed. She wondered if they had merely been an illusion her panic-stricken mind had conjured up to calm her. But the fairies had been there, just a moment ago. Her skin still tingled in places they had touched.
She looked back at the darkened forest, then out towards the marshes, contemplating where to go now. After a few moments she shrugged. She didn’t have the desire to walk in total darkness again, so there was no other choice but to try her luck with the bog. It had its own strange beauty. The silver light of the stars was reflected in the black, calm surface of the water, and Igraine assumed that there wasn't anything to fear from such a peaceful place. If she chose her steps carefully she would stay on dry land and make it to the forest, where she could look for a safe place to hide. Besides, the moor would be easier crossed by foot than on the back of a horse. Elathan and his centaurs wouldn’t be able to follow her as quickly as they usually might, she mused.
So it was the moor, then. Igraine went to the nearest patch of green and began to search her way to the other side. When she made the first step, she heard a rustle in the leaves behind her, followed by a soft, high giggle. But as she turned her head, there was nothing, only the dark, silent trees. So she shrugged again and went on, feeling sure that it had only been a figment of her imagination.
* * * * *
Elathan rode through the forest that had once been his home, long before his people were forced to build strongholds and fight back the hordes of barbarian humans advancing into the elves’ beloved woods. The mortals had always been like that, breaking truces every time one of their kings died and was succeeded by the next. Wherever they went, they left behind a trail of death and destruction.
Despite the excitement of the hunt, he felt strangely at peace, knowing that he would catch his lovely slave of pleasure and make her his own before the night was over. The centaurs searched the outskirts for his precious prey, while he proceeded into the depths of the forest, using his elven senses to find her.
He was sure that Igraine would make it to the other side and wait for him to claim her there. Her daily training had made her strong enough to be his mate. She was proud and courageous, and always held her head high, no matter how frightened she was. Sadly, however, she was human; but she had the heart of a lioness, his little wench. No other mortal female would have had the courage to face him so fearlessly, whilst being aware of his superior strength. He could have killed her at anytime, with ease.
Suddenly, an unknown fear overcame him, and he threw back his head, listening to the voices of the night. The trees were far too silent. They weren't shaking their leaves and whispering as they usually did when the beautiful full moon shed her light on their crowns. The falcons didn’t cry out their joy of the hunt, calling him their brother while he went after his own prey, his heart filled with wild satisfaction.
Igraine. She was in grave danger. He suddenly knew it, deep in his heart. In his mind, he could hear her calling out to him. Quickly, he tried to read her thoughts, hoping to learn anything that could tell him where she was. However, she was so far away that he only received blurred images. For a very short moment, he saw what she saw – trees, a tiny dancing light, and a black pool of water reflecting the stars…
The moor. Now he knew where he would find her. He only hoped that he was not too late.
* * * * *
Igraine clung to the thickest bough of a thorny shrub that grew at the edge of the muddy pool she lay in, sinking deeper with every move she made. The fact that she had made it nearly to the other side of the marshland had made her careless; moving forward too fast while not paying enough attention to the treacherous path under her feet.
She had been sure that she would step on dry ground, but instead she stumbled over a tree root and fell into the black waters. The only reason she still lived was her fast reaction. Fortunately, she had managed to grab an overhanging branch and hold onto it before she sank down into the depths of the bog. She wondered about crying for help, but she knew that to do so would cost her the precious strength she needed to free herself. She tried to swing to the side, to propel herself out of the deadly hole, but to no effect. Her legs had already been swallowed by the slimy mud that constantly pulled her down.
Suddenly, something moved in the dirty water below. It felt like a giant snake that was gliding along her legs, then disappearing again. Igraine tugged on the shrub with all her might, struggling to get out. At this moment the creature wrapped itself around her ankles, pulling her down.
Igraine cried out and tried to free her legs by kicking against the unknown animal, but it didn’t let her go. The water’s surface began to move, then to bubble, and several black tentacles rose from the surface. One of them grabbed her around her waist; another imprisoned her wrist, intending to tear her away from the branch.
It was over. It made no sense to fight any longer. Nonetheless, she'd try to make this bog monster’s life miserable, hurt it, kick his ugly ass as long as she could. She closed her eyes, not struggling anymore, but holding onto the branch with all her strength. The tentacles pulled harder; drawing her down…
She winced when a furious cry pierced the air. There was a swooshing sound near her head which was repeated several times. She was relieved to feel the creature’s arms around her body become weak, loosening their grip before they fell off her completely. When she cautiously opened one eye, she saw one of the centaurs standing over her. It was Aegis, the first of the group who had stepped into the clearing. His otherworldly beauty was only intensified by the physical exertion of the fight. Triumph in his eyes, he threw back his head and shook his long black mane, sweat glistening on his muscular torso.
He hacked his sword into the water a few more times. The monster’s blood emerged from the bog, gurgling like a red fountain while the creature sank deeper, its tentacles whipping wildly through the air. Finally it disappeared, and the pool was calm again, reflecting the sky like a shining black mirror.
The centaur stretched out his arm and wrapped it around Igraine’s waist, pulling her up to him until her feet reached solid ground again. Igraine wanted to thank him, but as she looked into his eyes, she saw wild, reckless desire burning in them. Aegis didn’t even bother to speak, but grabbed her and simply threw her over his back. He seemed to cross the marshes effortlessly, finding his way as if he had been there many times before. She managed to throw one leg over his side and pull herself up, so she could sit on his back and ride him.
When they had reached the other side of the bog and entered the wood, Aegis broke into a wild gallop and rode with breathtaking speed, forcing Igraine to throw her arms around him in order to cling to him for dear life. The centaur groaned with desire when he felt her touch on his naked skin. He rode even faster, deeper into the forest, while the strong muscles of his horse back flexed and tensed under Igraine’s thighs.
She couldn’t tell how much time had passed when he eventually stopped, but the night didn’t seem to be so dark anymore. Aegis had stopped in a small clearing where the trees stood so close together that it looked like a green chamber, the ground thickly covered with heaps of golden and purple leaves. From between them, delicate white flowers peeked out everywhere. When Igraine looked up she didn’t see the heavens, only the crowns of the trees, so densely grown that they formed a ceiling. It was the loveliest place she had ever seen.
The centaur bowed his horse legs and knelt down, allowing her to slip off his back. She stood up and watched him carefully. “Aegis,” she said softly. “I want to thank you for saving my life. Without you, I would be lying at the bottom of that horrendous bog now. Elathan will …”
“Elathan? What will he do, woman?” Aegis rose and began to circle her, pausing now and then to step in her way when she tried to move further away from him. His eyes wandered shamelessly over her curves, obviously approving what he saw. “Didn’t he take you yet? Oh, I know that you want it. I saw you looking at him.” He grinned at her knowingly, then the expression on his face became darker, and she sensed how strong his desire for her was.
“But pray tell me, what can a pointed-eared elf do to your body that I can’t do better?” He reached down and closed his fingers around her throat, warning her not to meddle with him. Then she felt his hand as it slid into her soft shirt and caressed her breast.
Igraine reacted without thinking. She reached over her shoulder and unsheathed the elven sword Elathan had given her. The centaur was surprised to find the sharp blade pressed to his neck, drawing a small rivulet of blood that ran down over his suntanned chest. He looked down at himself, a disbelieving look on his face. Actually, her attack seemed to amuse him. Her resistance seemed to have increased his desire instead of driving him away.
“You are a fiery one, little human,” he said in a mocking tone. “Taking you will be my greatest pleasure. Elathan can have you afterwards, if he still cares. But then he will always smell my scent between your thighs.” A wide grin spread over the centaur’s handsome face. “He‘ll never forget that I had you first.”
With one swift movement he pulled his own sword from his back and attacked her so fiercely that she dropped her weapon. Igraine jumped after it and landed on the forest floor, the impact knocking the air out of her lungs. Quickly she rolled over on her side and managed to grab the sword. From the corner of her eye she saw him raise his weapon, furious now, and clearly determined to go for the kill. Without thinking, she swung around her sword and sliced the centaur’s side. A fountain of blood emerged which soon painted the leaves on the floor dark red.
She never saw it coming. Aegis raised on his back legs and kicked her head so hard that she was knocked down to the ground. Her eyesight was blurring quickly, and she couldn’t move a limb as she watched him lift his sword for the deadly blow.
At the same moment a high-pitched, metallic sound pierced the night, and Aegis’ right arm was flying through the air, severed from his body. Sword in one hand, spear in the other, Elathan had catapulted himself off his horse’s saddle and leaped towards the centaur, attacking him in midair. Aegis collapsed to his knees, his left hand pressed against the bleeding stump Elathan’s sword had left.
Elathan towered over him, his eyes burning red with rage. “What have you done to her?” he hissed, his voice dangerously low.
“Only what she begged me to do,” the centaur spat out, showing an astounding courage while facing his certain death. Elathan's fingers tightened around the hilt of the sword.
“Elathan, no!” Igraine threw herself between the two immortals. The elf was trembling with uncontrollable fury, his chest heaving with the effort to control his temper. She laid a hand on Elathan’s cheek and made him look into her eyes. “I am unharmed. Look at me.”
He only glanced at her for a short moment, but she knew that he had seen that she was telling the truth. Like an ancient warrior statue, the prince stood over his enemy, a spear raised in his hand. “Centaur, you have acted against my orders. I made you swear that you would protect the Lady Igraine. Instead, you wanted to take her against her will, and when she didn't comply, you even tried to kill her. This is high treason, and the only punishment is death.”
“Even if he saved my life before?” Igraine asked softly. She told Elathan what had happened on the moor.
Elathan surveyed the injured centaur, contemplatively. Then he suddenly stepped back, glowering down at Aegis with open disgust. “You will live, but only for the reason that Lady Igraine asked me to spare you. Go back to your brothers and let them tend to your wounds. If you survive, you will leave this forest and be banished from Fearann as long as you shall live. It will be interesting to watch how a creature like you will attempt to hide in the world of the humans. If they catch you and take you to one of their laboratories, you'll wish that I had killed you first.”
Aegis didn’t press his luck. He grabbed his severed arm and left the clearing, never looking back.
At this moment the sun rose up in the east, bathing the clearing in the soft light of early morning. Elathan turned to Igraine and searched her face for a moment. Then he raised his spear and pressed the sharp tip to her neck. It was a ritual as old as time, the triumphant hunter claiming his prey. The fight with Aegis had left a small wound on her arm. The prince reached out with his free hand and dipped his fingers into her blood. Slowly he smeared it across his cheeks and over his lips, tasted it with his tongue.
“The hunt is over, Igraine,” the prince said, his golden eyes burning with desire.