Page 44 of The Ivory King

I pulled my blade free, dropped to one knee, dug my fingers into the powdery dirt and years of chaff, and flung a handful upward. My attacker rubbed his eyes with the back of one hand as he blindly cut through the air. Knowing I had mere seconds, I did as I had been taught by V’alor. I did not waver. I pushed my blade into his stomach, twisted it, and then yanked it free. The blade made a sickly sucking sound as it exited his body. He went to his knees, one hand over the gaping wound in his belly, the other lashing madly at me.

An arrow raced by us, pinning the man to the ground, a long willow shaft vibrating still as it held his shoulder to the ground.

I wiped my blade clean and rose to stand above him. He was mortally wounded, a pulse of blood puddling under his leg. To my right, I heard Merrilyn mumbling something as she ended the life of another assassin with her mighty sword. V’alor appeared at my side, speckled with blood, his breathing harsh.

“Aelir, are you unharmed?” he asked as Pasil and Tezen arrived, both gore-coated but unharmed, it seemed.

“I am fine,” I replied, my heart hammering in my breast. “This one still draws breath but his time is short.”

Raewyn stepped up beside me, her cheeks bright red from exertion, her whip curled in her tiny hand. “Question him before he joins Ihdos.”

I nodded, kneeled beside the man, and reached for his hood. He made a fool’s move with his dagger, a weak strike at me. Raewyn stomped down on his wrist. The blade fell from his fingers and Merrilyn kicked it away. I pulled it free and stared into the raging eyes of Joralf, the valet. I gaped in shock at his handsome face, now drawn into a hateful sneer.

“I warned you of this one,” V’alor growled, stepping up to place the bloody tip of his sword under the valet’s chin. There was no sign of meekness or fear now. “His mewling ways and fawning always sat ill with me.”

I shook off the disbelief of seeing a young male who had been so kind to me.

“Joralf, why are you here?” I asked. It was a stupid question, yes, but my thoughts were scattered to the winds. This man had beaded my hair, fed me honey cakes, dressed me…

“The moose shall kill the swan,” he snarled and with an ungodly strength that I would not have assumed the timid valet had, he lurched upward and drove V’alor’s blade into his neck as the arrow in his shoulder shook madly. He convulsed, but then the light of life left his eyes. His head lolled to the side. I sat back on my heels, surrounded by the dead bodies of trained assassins. Why would a valet seek to harm me? What had I ever done to him, or the Mossbells, or anyone for that matter?

“What does that mean?” Raewyn asked, pulling me from my aimless thoughts. “The moose shall kill the swan. Does that have a deeper meaning?”

V’alor reached down to touch my hair. A few strands had come free of the plaits during the short skirmish.

“The swan is the Stillcloud family crest and the moose the Dewfall crest,” he answered, his dark gaze resting on me as I looked up at him for succor or strength or a combination of the two. A long blond strand fluttered down to my shoulder. “I fear that these assassins were sent here by the Mossbell family to eradicate Aelir.” Beiro leaped from the hay mound, landing with a soft thud, then padding over to remove his arrow from Joralf’s limp form. “With Aelir gone, the most able noble to take the throne, they would shove one of their dimwitted sons forward, petition the elder court for your hand, and then sit on the ivory throne.”

“I am not some bangle or statuary to be handed from one man to another!” Raewyn snapped, her gaze now stormy. “Did they think I would simply agree to wed some stranger?”

“Greed warps the mind,” I whispered, slowly pushing to my feet. “I thought them to be my friends. We played together as young boys…”

“I fear for Umeris,” Pasil said from the right. “We should ride hard, day and night, to reach him, for he is alone in Castle Avolire surrounded by murderous wolves.”

Yes, we needed to reach Celear with all due haste. As much as my grandfather and I bickered, he was the only family I had left. I love the crusty bastard.

I glanced at our guide. “Beiro, can you summon a raven or crow or owl? Anything with wings that will carry a message to my grandfather?”

“Yes,” the ginger replied and ran from the barn, his bow and quiver on his back.

“I shall go with him in case of lingering snakes,” Pasil announced. V’alor nodded at his lieutenant. Tezen flitted about the barn, peeking under masks, poking each fallen attacker in the eye to ensure they were all truly dead.

“We will need to saddle our mounts,” I said, my head clearing. I would have to deal with the anger of betrayal of those I thought to be friends later. “We have much land to cover.”

Raewyn reached out to touch my arm. “My lord Aelir, I am sorry that those you thought to be allies have turned on you. Know that you can count on me to remain a faithful friend throughout.”

“Thank you. I have the greatest trust in all who are with me.” I smiled feebly at my friends, my guards, and my beloved. Tezen flew over to sit on my shoulder, her pointy teeth drawn into a grin that appled her cheeks. “I know we are bound to each other in many ways, some that will draw scorn and disapproval,but I could not think of better elves—” Merrilyn and Tezen cleared their throats. “Elves, humans, and pixies to cleave onto. Now, let us gather our bedrolls and head out.”

V’alor, uncharacteristically, stole a kiss in front of many eyes. “I will always be at your side, my love.”

I took a moment to lean in and let my chest rest against his. “I know this to be true.”

He slid one arm around me. Eyes closed, I drew from him the power needed to face the rest of this journey.

“You two make my heart swell with joy,” Raewyn whispered, stepping up to give us each a sisterly hug. “Come, let us ride. The sooner we reach Celear, the sooner I can knock a few deceitful noble elves on their asses.”

Merrilyn smiled proudly at Raewyn. Hand in hand, they walked to their mules, whispering amongst themselves, affording V’alor and me a moment of privacy. Well, privacy with a pixie on one’s shoulder, which isn’t privacy at all.

We both looked at Tezen wiping her war picks on the neck of my undertunic. “Oh fine, I’ll go locate the other two fools. It’s not like I’ve not seen you two swapping spittle before. Hell, there was that time we rode to Ballybar for a summit and I came awake to the cries of—”

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