Page 28 of The Ivory King

I opened my mouth to reply but closed it. He was right. Touching the two fat moons would be easier than trying to convince those who ruled to change. But what if the ruler was open to new ideas, new ways, better ways? What then? What if the path had been cleared by a kind, openhearted ruler and now the burden to pave that road to equality and prosperity for all elves was to be placed on a new king’s shoulders?

“Perhaps someday a new monarch will sit on the ivory throne and will bring much needed change to Melowynn,” I softly replied as an owl sounded off to the west.

Beiro laughed softly. That, it seemed, was his reply, for he said nothing else until we left the tree to rouse the next watch.

Two days passed riding in downpours and gales that kept us sodden and sullen. Or perhaps the sullen people were just our pixie, my horse, and me. Sullen because I could not find a moment of privacy to speak with V’alor. I now suspected that he was purposefully planning it that way to avoid having to deal with the impending betrothal. Midday on the third of our journey, we were all seated atop our mounts with a glorious ray of sun shining down from the choppy sky. The beam wasbeautiful, bright, and sadly shining on a bridge that Beiro was planning on using to get us away from the edge of the Glotte woods.

“Fuck my puckered mother,” Beiro snarled, his words floating downstream with a broken door that bobbed by before the rest of the shed that the door had belonged to floated past.

“I like him. He talks like a normal person,” Tezen whispered in my ear, her tiny damp form becoming familiar on my shoulder.

“He speaks like you speak, you mean,” I gently corrected as our horses waited for us to decide what to do. “Beiro, what say you?”

He turned narrowed green eyes on me. “We can’t cross here.”

“And to think we paid this man fifty gold to tell us that,” V’alor mumbled. I blinked at the sourness of his words, for V’alor rarely engaged in such waspish behavior.

“You paid me to keep you from the bandits, something that I have done well for do you see any bandits’ arrows in your backs?” Beiro snapped, jerking on his horse’s reins to tug the gelding from the washed-out bridge back to the muddy path.

“No, we do not, and for that, we thank you,” I hurried to interject into the tense moment. “Surely another bridge will appear further upstream. We shall cross at the next.”

V’alor grunted. Pasil nudged us along, taking up the rear as Beiro trotted ahead of us, his red hair like a beacon now that the sun was peeking out.

I rode up beside V’alor. Atriel was feeling more herself now that we had dry weather. I also could feel my sagging spirits slightly rising, even if the sun was now hiding behind a low, slate cloud.

“Why do you wish to bait the only man who can keep us safe from the bandits that lurk in these woods?” I asked of my love, eager to hear his voice again.

“I have seen no sign of bandits. I suspect he and the innkeeper are working together to bilk unsuspecting people of noble lineage into hiring him. Then when he leads us along on a road that we could have easily traveled alone, they will split the gold when he delivers us to Tolso.”

Tezen was humming a song in pixieish as she ran her fingers through her short hair to help it dry. Her wings buzzed steadily.

I gawked at V’alor. “Are you sure that blow to your head did not addle you?” He shot me a sour look. “I think it must have, for you speak nonsense. The flooding was not on Beiro unless you credit him with being able to manipulate the weather?” He sat on his horse now in stilted silence. “Hmm, so that is the end of that discussion, is it? Well, how about I breach another topic for us to chew upon as we ride? Why do you seek to hide from me at every stop when I wish to speak about our future together?” Tezen coughed not-so-discreetly. “You may ride with Pasil,” I told her.

“Don’t let him be a bear about things, my lord. He still loves you deeply. He is just unsure of where he stands in this uncertain future.” With that, she took to the air, a soft cloud of lilac falling from her dry wings as she flitted over to ride with Pasil.

“I am not discussing such personal matters within earshot of my underlings, nor should you be willing to either, my lord,” V’alor tersely replied.

“Then when shall we discuss our relationship? Whenever I try to pull you aside, you hide behind chores or taking watch.”

“Perhaps when I am on watch, you could join me as you seem to enjoy doing it with our guide,” he mumbled, thenflattened his lips to lock them. Ah, so he was feeling just as insecure and uncertain as I was.

“Perhaps I shall join you this eve then so we can speak on this matter,” I replied, easing Atriel ahead a few steps. A sharp wind shook the wet trees, causing a small deluge that fell on us and pulled our hoods from our heads. Tezen cussed. I sat astride my horse, enjoying the wind on my head. Perhaps it would help my hair and scalp dry, so I let my hood rest between my shoulder blades in defiance of the world and its asinine rules. “Do not try to fabricate work to keep our discussion from taking place.”

“Is this a command, my lord?”

I looked back over my shoulder. “No, V’alor, it is a request from the man who loves you as he loves no other.”

His dark eyes flew to me. I felt the connection between us, that thread that linked two hearts was still linking us together, even if life seemed destined to rip us apart. The sound of a scream rented the air as I opened my mouth to reply. I jerked back on Atriel’s reins. The sound split the air, overpowering the churning river, as another shriek joined it. No, not screams but squeals.

Our horses’ ears flattened. In the time it took to blink, a small band of wild bristle boars—a sow with about seven or eight piglets—erupted from the woods. Atriel sidestepped the wide-eyed pigs, bumping my thigh against a rusty-barked pine. I thought to reach for my bow to drop one of the pigs, as I had already grown tired of dried tack and bruised fruits, when Beiro shouted, pulling my sight from the fat sow to him. Assuming he was much like Kenton in that killing animals distressed him, I began to lower my hand when something fell from the tree above, grasping my hair to topple me from my saddle.

The silent animal—a wood cat, if I had to guess—hit the soggy ground with a splat. I jerked in vain to free my hair fromthe feline when I caught a glint of silver in the meager sunlight. Atriel reared up, a hoof coming down on what I now knew to be a woman, for no wood cats carried daggers, striking my attacker on the back. The woman grunted in pain. I moved enough to get my arm up to ward off the downward swing of the dagger, my forearm taking the strike instead of my throat. The pain was sharp, but I had no time to wallow in the misery for I had but a moment to act. I would ensure Atriel got extra rations of grain at our next stop if I survived the bandits.

Shouts filled the area, that of my guards and guide, our horses, and the wind, but not one shout or bellow from the bandits. Lashing out in an attempt to free my hair, I caught sight of the female astride me and knew then that this silent attack was no bandit raid. The lithe woman was clad in darkest gray speckled with splashes of dark green and brown paint. Her face was covered in the same material, showing nothing but radiant blue eyes.

Her grip tightened as I used a foot to roll us to the side. The burn as she tore out a handful of long hair made my eyes water. Atriel had charged off after delivering a blow to whatever predator had leaped from the canopy. Using a boot against a tree root, I managed to get us moved over, with the attacker now scrabbling to regain her advantage.

Blood coating my hand, I pawed at my side for my eating dagger as my bow was impractical at close range. The woman, silent as a cat, wrapped more of my damn hair around her fist, her dagger raised over her head when suddenly a flash of purple appeared. My attacker screamed as Tezen struck true with one of her war picks, taking out one of my attacker’s eyes. The dagger fell from her grip to my chest as she threw a hand over her bloody eye while trying to swat the pixie from the air. I found the hilt of the dropped dagger, spun it, and slammed itinto the woman’s chest. She fell back and to the side, bloodied and now gasping for air.

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