Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 The Solitary Arrow by Mack the Knife

   Part Twelve

   Hyandai and Harlen followed the marching army for some miles before the
army had veered off the paved road.  Obviously they had slowed their pace,
as well.  Harlen saw them ahead, a drawn out and ragged line of troops now.
Marching four abreast through woods was not easy and they had quickly given
it up, moving instead in small clumps of men generally heading eastward.

   The couple attracted a little attention from one of the smaller groups,
but were quickly questioned then ignored.  The sergeant saying that he
would not be responsible for their safety.  Harlen nodded in agreement and
they all pressed onward.  As night closed in on the army, it formed up into
a ragged circle around the Harlen's mood was good as he built a small fire
just outside the western edge of the circle.  Several soldiers wandered
over to their little camp to sit and speak with the elven woman, and ask
for her blessing in the upcoming battle.

   "Why do they think my touch is a blessing?" She asked him after another
small group of men smilingly left their camp with her head cocked in
curiosity.

   Harlen shrugged.  "Elves have always been good luck.  So the legends
say." He said, smiling at her.  "I feel very lucky that you're with me."

   She gave him a pleased look, but with an edge of sadness.  "I wish I was
good luck." Said Hyandai.  "Then perhaps you would not have nearly been
killed, then seduced into slavery."

   He chuckled and came up behind her and pulled her to him.  "I have been
seduced into slavery, to you." He said into her ear, then began to kiss her
neck.  She reached back over her shoulder and stroked his cheek, grinning.

   "We have more company." she said, giving his groin a gentle nudge with
her rump.  And he let her go talk to the soldiers, another group of half a
dozen.

   Soon after that a group of nearly fifty conscripts slowly came over,
looking very nervous and hesitant.  All the others had been regular troops,
full-time soldiery.  They stopped about fifteen paces from the camp and one
came forward.  "Miss Hyandai." He said quietly when he got within speaking
distance.  "We ask that you bless us, too even if we're not really
soldiers." He said, with his hat literally in his hand.

   She smiled gently and nodded, and they all queued up passing and
receiving her touch to their forehead or cheek.  Each moved off after with
their head held high and smiling.  One man came up with his hands on the
shoulders of a very young man.  "This is my son, Dannes, he just came of
age yesterday and received his summons, Miss." He said.  "We'd be honored
if you would bless him for this fight."

   Hyandai looked back at Harlen and raised an eyebrow.  Harlen smirked
very slightly and nodded minutely.  She turned to Dannes, regarding the
strapping, but very frightened youth with her now deep emerald eyes. 
"Dannes, you will fight with honor, and go home a hero." She said.  She
took his hands and pulled him to his knees, breaking his father's grip on
his shoulders.  He looked very confused for a moment, then she leaned
forward and kissed him deeply.  Grabbing him about the shoulders and
running her slim fingers through his hair.  She pulled him to his feet as
they kissed for almost thirty seconds, and pressed her whole body to him.

   Harlen was amazed that he felt no jealousy at this display of lustful
behavior.  He supposed that he knew where her heart lay, and that there was
enough lust in that little elf to go around quite handily.

   When she finally broke the kiss, she ran her hands down from his
shoulders and over her quite obvious erection.  "And take care not to let
this get hurt." She said as her fingers gently slipped over his pants and
the swollen cock beneath them.  "For some girl will likely seek out its
services after you're a hero tomorrow." She concluded.  The boy had turned
crimson even under the low lighting of the campfire and all the remaining
conscripts cheered at Dannes' first conquest of the battle.  The last
twenty or so passed into the night and Hyandai looked at Harlen.

   "Thank you for not being a jealous man." She said, kissing his cheek. 
"I can't help doing stuff like that.  It harms no one and makes everyone,
including me, feel good."

   He nodded, smiling at her emerald eyes.  "I know, my Betrothed." He
said. "And I can deal with it well, as I know who's blanket you will share
this night."

   She grinned and said.  "Even after this morning?" She said, raising one
eyebrow.  Then her face took one of deep consideration.  "Well, if my man
asks it of me..." She let the sentence drift off into the night.

   About thirty minutes passed, and no more soldier came for blessings, and
the couple laid down in their blankets.  She cuddled up to him, and he
said. "I would love to be inside you this night." He said quietly as he
kissed her shoulder.  "But I fear more people seeking blessings may come to
us, and I'm not sure they need quite that much of a blessing."

   She giggled and pushed back to him.  "If you are certain, my lover." She
said, feeling his organ swelling against her backside.  She took his hand
and placed something cloth in it.  He opened the cloth and found it was her
loincloth, and it was moist in the middle.  "You do what you feel you
must." She smiled over her shoulder at him, then wiggled against him a bit
before settling.

   He reached down under the blanket and caressed her bottom, loving the
soft smoothness of her skin beneath his fingers.  She squirmed to let him
have better access, and he felt the crease between her lobes, and explored
into it with his fingers.

   She moaned as he found her puckered anus, and gently stroked at it.  "I
still think that might have been a bad idea." She murmured with a slight
grin.  "But I sure am glad I did it."

   He chuckled and began kissing her neck again, moving her long hair out
of the way to give him access to her fair-skinned throat.  He felt her hand
moving down his belly and then into his trousers, enwrapping his cock's
shaft in her cool fingers.  He moved one of his own hands down and
unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants down enough that she had free
access to his erect penis.  She pushed back as she pointed him forward, and
he felt her wet, hot cunt wrap itself around him, then slide up his shaft
slowly as she pushed back to him.  A small moan escaped her and she
shuddered as he finally reached his limit within her.  They laid like that,
slowly moving him in and out with tiny motions.  She let out a few small
moans and he sighed quite a lot as he felt her clamp down with her internal
muscles.  Neither of them climaxed, but they slowly, after an hour, drifted
off to sleep with him still inside her.

   --

   She awoke when his soft organ finally came loose of her body.  She
moaned at its absence after so long.  She looked at the sky, almost three
hours past midnight, by the moon.  He had been inside her almost four
hours. She saw sentinels moving near the large campfires of the soldiers.
She found her loincloth lying near Harlen's hand and took it as she rose,
his arm sliding off of her as she slipped from him.  She put it on and
adjusted it then picked up her bow and hyandai.  She looked about quickly,
seeing that she was unobserved and moved away from their little camp into
the woods north of them.

   She slipped between the trees and shrubs like an eel, sliding fluidly
through the underbrush as she moved away form the camps of the army.  She
slipped past a large patch of underbrush and found herself staring at a
large force of orcs, moving quietly with muffled armor.  They were east of
her, and moving directly toward the army.  With a gasp of horror she
started moving back toward the camp, rushing now, and worried that she
might be heard.  She had to get ahead of the orcs, though, or else they
would fall upon the sleeping camp and take them by surprise.

   She was an elf now, and her recent epiphany on that matter led her feet
and hands.  She bulleted through the trees and bushes.  Barely disturbing
the leaves as she passed.  Suddenly, there was an orc before her, blocking
her path.  He held up a massive cleaver-shaped weapon.  "Ho, little elf
bitch." He said in the gruff tones of that race.  "You thinkin of warnin
the huma..." His voice was cut off as she never slowed down, drawing her
hyandai and slitting his throat as soon as she was within reach.  He had
expected her to be stunned or to parley with him, he expected wrongly.  He
gurgled as he dropped to the ground, trying in vain to keep his blood from
flowing forth in a great surge.

   Hyandai never slowed a bit as she moved toward the camp, with the orcs
just a few minutes behind her.  She ran at the camp once she broke free of
the last bits of underbrush around the largish clearing.  A overzealous
sentry yelled something and then she felt an arrow pass near her left
shoulder.  She started screaming.

   "Foes approach from the north!  To your arms, soldiers of Morrovale!"
She shot past the sentry who looked at her, stunned for a moment, as she
knocked the bow from his limp fingers.  She snatched the horn from his belt
and the cord snapped as she kept running.  Pressing it to her lips, she
blew a long horn call, the call to arms for elven communities.  Men began
piling out of tents and rolling out of bedrolls and off of blankets.  They
seemed confused for a brief moment, then the sergeants began to take over.
Echoed calls of to arms began to rattle through the camps, and men began
donning their armor and picking up weapons in haste.  By the time she
reached the baron's little pavilion in the middle of the circle, several of
the better-drilled units were already forming ranks on the north side of
the circle.

   It was none too soon, the orcs began pouring from the wood.  A small
group of sappers grabbed up large wooden tubes and set flame to the bottoms
as they pointed them into the sky.  Suddenly it was daylight as the mortars
boomed and launched bright flares into the night.  The orcs flinched at the
sudden bright light to their night-sighted eyes.  The men were heartened,
though, and bows began to sing in the darkness.  The flares would hang for
only a few moments, but new ones were being launched constantly, keeping
the sky lit brightly with their stunning brightness.

   The baron came out of his tent and began mustering his knights, forming
them into a phalanx and charging to the front to drive a wedge into the
orcish line.  Hyandai's own bow began to thrum as she fired at orcs almost
a hundred yards away that had managed to bypass the main defensive line and
were running among the tents seeking stragglers.  Soon she saw Harlen, near
the front line, hewing a massive orc with the sword he had gotten from the
other orcs.  She smiled and watched him a moment.  "He is a warrior." She
said to herself as she watched him do what he did best, which was stalk
prey.

   He would spy a particularly dangerous orc at some distance, watching for
the fell creatures that seemed to be giving the defensive group the most
trouble.  Then he would move quickly and cunning toward him, striking
quickly and delivering a careful killing blow.  She glimpsed another orc in
the camp itself, and fired an arrow into its chest, and watched it fall.

   Within fifteen minutes the orcs fled the battle, suffering great loss
from the pursuing soldiery and especially the cavalry, who rode them down
in great numbers as they routed.

   Harlen finally saw Hyandai, and moved to her.  "What happened?" He
asked, his face marked with concern.  "I awoke with the horn call and you
were not with me.  I was terrified." He said.

   She smiled.  "I felt something, and had to go look, my betrothed." She
said.  "The feeling was right." She pointed at the orcs lying scattered on
the small field.  "They were trying to sneak attack at night."

   The baron rode up on his white charger.  "Well done, elven lady." He
said.  "Were it not for you, that band would have done grave damage to our
force." His sword was coated in blood, as was his horse up to its neck. 
"As it is now, only a small number of ours lost their lives this night."

   "Still, that is a tragedy." She said, her eyes downcast.

   He nodded.  "It always is so, in war, lady."

   The men were cheering though, heartened by their first victory.  And it
was caused by their unofficial good luck charm, men were saying, loudly
enough for Harlen and Hyandai to hear.

   "I only warned you they were coming." She said humbly.

   The baron laughed heartily.  He was one of those men that thrived on
combat, not a bad thing in and of itself.  It was like looking at a human
with a fey of his own to deal with.

   "You did just that, which we would not have known." He said.  "Our
patrols didn't expect such a large sending this far west, and were taken
unawares, apparently.  We will be more cautious in the future." He said,
eyeing the dark woods suspiciously.

   Hyandai nodded.  "Please be so." She said.  "Scant time was given me to
sound the warning, for they move quickly when they seek to strike."

   He nodded.  "I underestimated their cunning.  It will not happen again."
The baron said.  Then he looked at Harlen.  "Protect this lovely creature
well, Harlen, for she is a blessing with fiery hair."

   Harlen smiled and said.  "Would that I could keep her near enough to
protect.  And I often wonder, when I see her in action who is protecting
whom."

   The baron laughed heartily at that.  "I can see she is no frail waif."
He said.  "But I meant her heart.  Any man in this realm would give all he
had for her love after this night."

   He rode off to go congratulate his men and distribute praise for
individuals worthy of it after the fight.  Hyandai seemed very concerned
searching through the throngs of men and looking around everyone before
her. Harlen finally asked.  "What are you looking for?"

   She looked back at him, very worried.  "Dannes." She said.  "I know it
is a little thing, but when I kiss someone, I hope they will live out the
night." She smiled wanly.

   Harlen thought he kind of understood.  Despite her huge love for him,
from all he could tell, when she kissed or touched another, a part of that
love was with them also.  With that kiss Dannes had become important to
her, and she was very worried.

   Finally she spied him, standing with his father near some tents.  The
couple approached them.  Harlen noted a change in her walk as she neared
the two men, it had more wiggle again, and her stride grew longer.  He
smiled to see her, without so much as a thought, change into a totally
different person as she drew up to them.  "Hail Dannes." She said, smiling.
"I see you made it through your first battle, though not unmarked." She
eyed a deep cut on his meaty bicep.

   His father was smiling far too broadly for a normal moment.  "Milady, my
son has done us great honor, and the baron has granted him his fee and
freedom for his actions on the field." The lad beamed.

   She smiled at him.  "Really?  What is it you have done, brave Dannes?"

   He looked down, suddenly self-conscious.  "I killed a few orcs." He said
meekly.  The men nearby started catcalling and jeering him.

   The father laughed.  "A few?" He said with a look of shock on his face.
"You slew at least a dozen!" He yelled and the crowd nearby cheered.  He
looked at Hyandai with his florid face.  "He was a madman, milady, our
group hadn't formed up properly and he and four other lads held off a small
hoard of the fell creatures until we could form up and help them."

   She smiled broadly at the lad, but Harlen could see a little brittleness
in her expression.  She walked to Dannes again.  "Well, brave soldier." She
said.  "You are in need of fresh blessings." and she kissed him again. 
This time he kissed her back, at least he did more so than the first.  She
then put her mouth to his ear and said something into it.  The crowd was
cheering so boisterously that none save Dannes heard her words.  His
expression changed, though, and his embarrassed smile shifted to a
considering one.  She pulled back and then took his arm, blowing gently
upon his cut, which looked bad, but was actually pretty minor.  A few
moments later she placed a gentle kiss on the new pink skin there.

   She took Harlen's hand and led him from the camp.  "What did you tell
him?" Harlen asked.

   She smiled back at her betrothed.  "I asked him that if he goes and does
insanely brave acts and then dies, how can I bless him further afterward."
She said, then kissed Harlen's cheek.  "You are a very patient man, I love
you."

   The managed to get back to their little camp, unmarred by the battle,
save a flare's burnt out husk lying near their blankets, still smouldering.
"I've never seen these before." She said, pushing it with the toe of her
boot.

   Harlen nodded.  "Since so many races other than us men can see well at
night, we have found ways to mitigate that advantage." He said.  He picked
it up and dropped it into the fire, where it began to curl and wither. 
"Alchemists make the chemicals that go into them, then men called
`munitioneers' build them.  She sniffed the sharp tang of the material used
in the flare.  "It reeks, but seems to help men at night, which is a boon,
I am sure." She said, eyeing the withering husk dubiously.

   They took off their weapons, and laid them very close to their sides as
they crawled back into the blankets.  They were both very tired, and soon
slept.

   --

   They awoke with breakfast being served them by the baron's own cook. 
"By his grace's name." The cook said, handing each a large platter of
delicacies.  "He bids you good morning after helping him in his victory
last night." They accepted the platters and the cook moved off quietly and
back to the main encampment.

   Quickly, the couple swapped out foods that each favored, he moved his
fruits and vegetables to her platter and she moved breads and meats to his.
They ate happily and talked about the night before.  He did not bring up
her nocturnal wandering again, though, feeling that doing so would show a
lack of trust on his part.

   After about an hour, the main camp was broken down, and moving eastward,
forming into organized ranks again, only broken for trees and large stands
of brush that had to be gone around.  Hyandai watched the men.  "So many
humans." She said.  "That small ducal army is almost as great as the entire
standing army of Windir."

   He nodded.  "After what I saw you do last night with your bow, and you
tell of in the wood." He said.  "I doubt you need more than a couple of
thousands of warriors to protect your lands."

   She smiled.  "If that were so, I would not be on my current quest, my
lover." She said, a sad look in her eyes.  "We are just so few in number,
Harlen, we cannot take losses as a group that humans can."

   "This is likely true." He said.  "We humans are only bested by orcs on
our talent for producing offspring." Then he realized what he had just
said, and looked to her with worried eyes.

   Her face darkened at that thought, but soon it passed.

   They hefted their packs and weapons, and set off after the Grand Army of
Morrovale, on its march east.  After two hours, they left the main dense
woods, and entered the scraggly hills.  Soon, though, they saw the main orc
army.  Camped upon the leeward side of a large hill, hundreds of
crudely-built tents, and orcs massing on the west side of the camp,
forewarned of the army's impending arrival.  The number of the orc host
looked to be as great if nor more so, than the human forces that marched
toward it.  Hyandai looked over the army marching toward the main camp of
orcs.

   "Death will take many this day." She murmured as Harlen watched the army
start to form into battle lines.

   He had a look of sadness on his face as well.  "I'm sure he will work
long gathering souls after this fight." He agreed.

   They had turned their cloaks inside-outward, and now blended into the
gray rocks and dirty outcroppings of the hill country well.  They watched
in helpless horror as the orc host started marching toward the human army.
Hyandai was crying.  "Let us move, Harlen, I wish to not see this
slaughter."

   Harlen nodded and they moved south a ways and started moving east again.
The army had escorted them as far as it could on their quest.  As the orc
encampment slid past on their left, they heard the clashing of arms and the
unmistakable screams of dying men and orcs behind them.  It seemed Hyandai
shed a tear for every life lost.  After three hours, moving stealthily to
avoid detection by orc patrols, they started to climb toward a low mountain
pass.  Harlen stopped and rummaged in his pack, pulling a spyglass from it
and removing its leather caps.  They were above all but the highest of the
hills to their west, and had a excellent vantage over the battlefield. 
Harlen looked slowly over the smoking and masses of dark spots on the
ground behind them.  "Morrovale won." He said, smiling with pride.  "But it
was not a cheap victory." He ammended.

   She looked at him with concern written boldly upon her face.  "Yes,
Dannes lives." He said, handing her the spyglass.  She peered through it
and he directed her aim.  She smiled broadly as Dannes tended his wounded
father's arm.  He seemed unhurt, but the losses brought another set of
tears to her eyes, as she saw hundreds of men among the piles of orcish
bodies.

   "The orcs must have strongholds up north, they are retreating that way,
leaving their vile little camp as plunder, not that it will fetch much
loot." Harlen said.  "Looks like about thirty of one hundred casualties. 
Which is not too badly done.  The orcs payed dearer for it."

   She shrugged.  "Death is death." She said.  "I wish for none of it, if
it could be helped."

   He kissed her brow.  "It couldn't, in this case." He said, taking the
spyglass and carefully recapping it before collapsing it and putting it
back in his pack.  "Those orcs had to be dealt with."

   Nodding agreement, Hyandai turned and began climbing up the steep path
again.  Harlen looked down into the hills below, and saluted at his fellow
men of Morrovale, then followed her.

   They had crested the pass about the time the sun fell low enough to cast
the hills below in darkness.  They watched with interest as the horizon
chased them up the mountain shoulders.  They had found a out of the way
little nook in the rocks to pitch their blanket and were enjoying a moment
of quiet before retiring.  Harlen sat behind her, and idly stroked her soft
hair.

   "I know you don't like the ugliness of war, Hyandai, but I am proud of
my people for that victory." He said, touching her shoulder.

   She looked back at him.  "As you should be.  They did what needed
doing." She said.  "That is the fey of man, to do the necessary.  It is an
obsession with most men."

   He nodded and gently kissed her shoulder, smelling of her scent and
feeling her soft hair tickling his cheek as the wind caused it to flutter
lightly.  This wondrous woman in his arms was heartsick over the death of
men she did not know.  He loved her for that empathy, and feared for her
over it.  "Do you think you will be happy among men?" He asked, quietly.

   She shrugged.  "I do not know, my betrothed." She said.  "I know I can
be happy with one of them." She favored him with a small smile.  "But as a
whole, they are almost utterly alien to me."

   He emphatically agreed with that assessment, nodding eagerly.  "I
understand that." He said.

   The sun had finally set upon their mountain aerie, and they slipped into
the blankets.  After seeing the carnage of a war, neither felt much like
love play, and they just held onto each other, listening to the ancient
grumbling of the mountains in their slumber.

   --

   Harlen awoke to find Hyandai kneeling nude nearby.  She was praying, and
he left her to it, watching her unobtrusively.  She had her face pointed
into the skies, and her hands upon her knees as she knelt.  She looked to
be very happy as she prayed, almost ecstatic.  When she rose, she turned
her eyes south and east.  "We are close now." She said quietly, then looked
at him.  "Maybe two more days."

   He nodded and sat up.  She began to dress, covering her lovely form with
the doeskin clothing he had made for her.  Her expression was determined
and somewhat cold.  He did not like the latter much, but supposed it came
with the former, if her mind was set on something.  They ate a quick meal
of bread and an apple, then headed onward.  The pass was narrow, and they
kept their bows strung and an arrow knocked as they proceeded, fearing
ambush at any time from the overhanging rocks and cliffs.

   "I've never been this far east before." Harlen said as they trudged over
the broken shale of the pass.

   Hyandai smiled and said.  "I have never been so far east, myself." Then
she giggled, sending her musical laugh over the stones and lifting Harlen's
spirits.

   They began to descend the other side of the initial barrier range of the
mountains.  A narrow, barren valley laid before them followed by another,
higher range of mountains.  Hyandai pointed a bit southward.  "We will have
to move south through this valley to a pass farther south." They soon
reached the valley floor and looked about them at the rather bleak
landscape of rocky outcropping, punctuated by small, stunted shrubs and
weeds.

   "Lovely place." Harlen said idly.  "Perhaps we can build a summer
bungalow here."

   She smiled at him.  "Just what I always sought, a house with no view."
He replied.

   Her sharp ears heard the orcs long before they were visible.  They left
the main path and went a ways up a small ravine, drawing their cloaks tight
and tossing the hoods over their heads.  The orcs passed, a small force,
but more than two could deal with, almost twenty of the brutes.  One even
looked directly at the couple before moving on.

   He looked at her while they waited for the orcs to move away.  "Do you
think the orcs may have your relic?" He asked.

   She shrugged.  "It would avail them not, except to deny it to us." She
said.  "But they are as likely as anyone to have it, I should guess."

   They finished their southward move, and she directed them east again. 
"It lies that way."

   The sun was failing them in this little valley, and Harlen guided them
off the path again, and far into a ravine, where they were around a small
bend from the path.  They tossed out blankets and laid down, eating their
supper quietly.

   As full dark stole over the valley, Hyandai climbed atop a large boulder
and watched the sky, she called to Harlen, who clambered up after her. 
They watched as stars fell from the heavens, dozens of them, in ones, twos
and threes.  She clutched herself to him and smiled at the sky.  "It bodes
well, my betrothed.  The spirits show us the way." She pointed east, where
the little trails pointed, one after another.

   Harlen nodded agreement, thinking that the One could work just this same
way, but he stilled his tongue.  She kissed him as he watched the next star
fall.  He made a fervent wish upon it, and smiled as she probed his mouth
with her tongue, and her hands began to move over his body, along with her
own breath shortening and becoming more insistent.  He enjoyed her
aggressiveness this night and she used him well and thoroughly, breathing
energy into him twice before her lusts subsided, and her eyes virtually
glowed with their greenness.  The fell soon after into a very deep sleep.

   --

   The next day passed quickly, the climb to the pass they sought was
steeper than they had thought, and it took much effort to climb, even
having to get out ropes and pitons in a few stretches.  Shortly after the
sun set, they finally crested the pass and looked through the narrow cleft
between too high peaks.  There was no good place to camp, other than right
in the pass, but given the difficulty of their ascent, they figured it was
not well-traveled.  They were also exhausted by the exertions of the climb,
and both fell asleep soon after they ate and laid upon the blankets.

   --

   The dawn was late in coming, due to low-hanging clouds, or they appeared
so from this altitude.  The gray rain-laden clouds seemed to scuttle just
overhead and they felt impending rainfall.  Both pulled their cloaks tight
against the breezes that cropped up from the storms, cold and stiff.

   They plodded, nursing aches that they had earned yesterday, muscles
seldom used were called to duty then, and today they wished to be repaid
for their efforts.  Harlen smiled as Hyandai attempted to rub her own
shoulders, and took pity on her and gave her a quick backrub as they took a
break.  She moaned quite arousingly at the backrub and they very nearly got
sidetracked at that point.

   About midday, or so they judged, they looked out and down into a small
valley.  In the middle of the valley lay an ancient fortress.  From what
Harlen could tell it was Syrisian, having seen ruins near Morrovale of
their buildings.  They did not use stone or bricks, those ancient folk. 
Their structures were cast of some material akin to mortar and, according
to the texts, they were liquid until they were poured into great wooden
molds, whereupon it hardened and turned as tough as most stone.  It allowed
them to build structures of fanciful shapes and unbelievable size.  This
one was no exception.  In much better shape than the small one in
Morrovale, this structure towered over two hundred feet over the floor of
the valley, with sheer smooth sides and odd fluting on its flanks.  The top
was crenelated, like a castle, and it had tiny arrow slits set into its
sides from about two stories up to five.  The material was supposedly a
pale gray in color when made, but this building had aged for a very long
time, and was nearly black with discolorations.  It stood like a black and
stricken tooth in a man's mouth.

   They stopped and ate, while Harlen used his spyglass to examine the
building.  "There are orcs about." He said, finally, with a disgusted sound
in his voice.  "But it seems not too many, certainly not an army."

   She nodded.  "The army was in the hills trying to stop me, I know it."
She said, looking back west.  "Your countrymen took that obstacle out of my
way."

   Harlen nodded.  "It sure seems it.  How do you think that whomever rules
that tower knows of your coming?" He asked.

   Her face darkened again.  "We suspect a traitor in our midst." She said
quietly.  "Do not look surprised.  Elves are quite capable of treason,
especially those who have a fey given to it." She looked at him with
somewhat pained eyes.  "Some betrayals are great, others small, some
national, some personal."

   He kissed her gently.  "Stop that." He said, chiding her gently.  "I
accepted you, even when you told me of your fey.  And I do accept it, too.
It is part of what makes you yourself, and a part of why I love you."

   She smiled bitterly.  "Thank you, lover." She said.  She looked into the
valley.  "Do you think we can bypass the orcs and reach the tower?"

   He nodded.  "I think we can, especially with my magnificently crafted
cloaks." He said, grinning broadly and pulling his mottled gray cloak tight
about him theatrically.

   Hyandai kissed his stubbly cheek.  "Of course, my beloved." She said,
and patted his shoulder patronizingly.  "Your humility is only exceeded by
your brilliance."

   They waited until near darkness to move from the cover of toward the
entrance to the tower.  As they neared it, it became much less obvious that
they place was occupied.  There were great chunks of the stone-like
material missing from the walls, and even a few small holes near the
ground. They handily eluded the orcs that patrolled the grounds around the
fortress, though, and soon found themselves slipping through the gate way
arch.  The stench of the tower was very orcish in flavor, and they both
wrinkled their noses in disgust.

   They found themselves in a wide corridor that ran through the tower to
the back, and apparently on, even from there, into the mountain that loomed
over the massive structure.  The corridor was lined with open doorways,
that seemed to lead into stables and storage rooms.  No horses were housed
in these rooms however, and only the ragged bedclothes of orcs or perhaps
fell humans could be found in them.

   The couple were moving silently now, slipping down the hall as quickly
as they dared.  They heard gruff voices coming from ahead, and saw shadows
playing on the wall opposite of one room.  Hyandai jumped into a room off
the corridor and Harlen followed her as the voices became distinct, and
apparently entered the hallway.

   "...humans pushed our boys back, they did." Said the first voice, deep
and guttural.

   "What do you expect from ragged lads from little holds, hmm?" A second
voice said.

   The first voice replied.  "I expect them to hold their damn line." He
chuckled.  "But, you're right, they couldn't stop the humans, lets just
hope that the bitch doesn't try to get here before we get more boys into
position.

   Two figures walked past the doorway from the hall to the room they were
within.  One was a tall brute, like the one that had raped Hyandai, the
other much slighter, with ornate tatoos darkening his skin.

   "The boss says that she won't." The first voice said.  "She's playing
house with some human in Morrovale, or so his `friend' says."

   The second one chuckled along with the first.  "I'd like to play house
with an elf girl for about two days, before she keels over from bleeding
all the time." He said, laughing.

   They left the tower, still chuckling as Hyandai peered around the
corner.

   "You think they're talking about you?" Harlen said.

   Hyandai nodded.  "They have to be." She said, her face marked by deep
concern.  "I wish I knew who was feeding them information."

   Harlen moved into the corridor, now he had his sword drawn, and moved
quickly toward the back, where a narrow stair went upward from the left
side of the corridor.  They ascended the stairs stealthily, coming to
another long passage.  This one marked by many fewer doorways, and
terminating about halfway down in a pair of double doors.  They peered
around the corner of the stairwell, and saw two particularly large orcs
wearing heavy armor guarding the doors.  Harlen pulled his head back into
the stairwell.

   "I take it that the Ehladrel is beyond those doors?" He said, a wry grin
on his face.

   She rolled her eyes.  "Naturally." She said, sheathing her hyandai and
lifting her bow off her shoulder.  Harlen readied his own bow, and they
prepared to shoot the two guards.  Harlen looked at her face, it was locked
in a rather cold expression, with little emotion in her large emerald eyes.
He wondered for a moment if his eyes looked the same.

   Harlen stepped into the hallway, bringing up his bow in the same moment.
Hyandai was right behind him, leveling her bow at the other orc, and
chanting a short incantation.  The orcs had no sooner focused on them and
started to react when they both fired.  Harlen's target was struck in the
right shoulder, causing it to cry out in pain, and drop its long warspear.
The orc Hyandai was aiming at slammed into the wall with a dull thud and
left a bloody trail down it as it slid over the smooth material.

   The orc who had taken Harlen's arrow, bellowed in pain and rage, drawing
forth a wickedly hooked short sword from its belt and charged at the pair.
They both fired again, Hyandai missed her mark, and the arrow struck the
wall, shattering with the impact.  Harlen's arrow struck home, though,
burying itself in the orc's neck, silencing it forever.

   However, the damage had been done, they could hear answering shouts from
the stairwell, and the stomp of many heavily shod feet.  They looked at
each other briefly, and bolted for the double doors.  They slammed into the
heavy doors, and Harlen wrenched at the huge brass ring set in one's
center, pulling it open.  As soon at there was a few inches between the
doors, Hyandai slipped past them, and right after that, Harlen followed, he
heard an arrow thunk into the door as he entered the room, already grabbing
for the handle on this side, and pulling.  The door pulled shut and he
looked for latches or something to hold them shut.  Set into the floor
beneath each door was a hole, about half the diameter of a man's wrist, and
a matching ring in the bottom edge of the door directly over it.  He looked
for the pins that would lock them and saw them sitting on a ledge right
beside the door.  He managed to drive them home just before someone pulled
on the ring outside.  Shouts of frustration filtered into the chamber from
the hall beyond.

   Harlen finally turned to look into what he took to be a large chamber,
judging from the echoes he heard of the doors shutting.  He saw Hyandai
standing right beside him, her eyes wide with disbelief.  Her bow dangling
limply from numb fingers.

   He turned more and saw, descending the raised dias before them, from a
rather ostentatious throne, an elf.  In his hands, he was carrying a
Ehladrel, very much like Ceriandel's weapon, but more ornately carven.  It
seemed to radiate power as he hefted it, letting it swing gently from his
hands, flowing in graceful arcs from one hand to the other.  He said
something in elven to Hyandai, causing her to blink out of her stunned
silence.

   She looked at the elf a long moment, as he walked across the floor, the
arcs of his weapon becoming wider and starting to flow together into a
single long motion.

   "You had no right!" She yelled at the elf.  "It is not your choice to
make."

   He chuckled.  "You wish me to speak in the human tongue?  For the
benefit of your pitiful lover?" He asked, in Westron.  "Very well, since
you, like so many of my people, find humans so fascinating." His face
showed disgust, and when he said human it sounded almost like a grave
insult.  He stopped advancing, and let the Ehladrel slow to a idle pace,
flowing back and forth, changing hands and describing short, elegant arcs.
"We have spent our best blood helping humans, and receive nothing in
return." He said.  "When are you going to figure that out, they will
exterminate us.  Not by avarice, but by sheer ignorance and fecundity." He
looked at Harlen askance.  "And you, whore, you further the crime by
hastening your own race's demise by allowing your own womb to breed more of
the beasts." His eyes shot back to Hyandai.  "You may wish to let your
people die, and let yourself rut with animals, but I will not, and I will
stop it." He said, his voice lowering to a very threatening tone.

   "Your wife died in the Windir Isles, did she not?" Hyandai asked, her
eyes focused not on him, but on the Ehldarel in his hands.  "She died a
noble death, defending helpless children." She said.

   He barked out a chilling laugh.  "She died protecting the pups of men,
who could easily just mount their wives and produce another litter!" He
spat on the floor.  "A stupid death!" He raised the weapon again.  "Like
yours will be."

   His body flowed into motion, seeming to blur to Harlen's vision.  He was
going straight for Hyandai, though, the Ehladrel in his hands humming and
beginning to sing in a high, threatening note.  Harlen drew out his sword,
even as Hyandai began to dodge aside from the coming blow, reaching for her
own weapon.  The ehladrel whistled through the air she had just occupied a
tiny moment before.

   Harlen swung the sword, and felt a shock through his arms as the
ehladrel seemed to just happen to be in his way.  His weapon bounced off
the elven bladestaff and he recoiled, seeing the elf glare at him with
intense hatred in his eyes.  Already, the elf was swinging toward him with
the razor-edged ehladrel.

   Hyandai finished her rolling evasion and came up on both feet, leveling
her bow at the elf.  "Letharon, stop!" She yelled, drawing back a white
arrow, and then started chanting the words to give power to the
enchantments laid upon the bow and arrow alike.

   The elf glanced toward her, giving Harlen a chance to step back,
bringing his sword back into line to defend himself against the dangerously
whirling ehladrel.

   Letharon smirked.  "You know you cannot kill me with a bow, you stupid
cow." He said, again watching Harlen.

   There were tears in Hyandai's eyes as she let the arrow fly, it tore the
air toward the elf, but was stopped dead, shattering into splinters as the
ehladrel simply passed between Letharon and the deadly path of the
projectile.

   The elf gave Harlen an almost pitiable look as he moved forward again.
"I am sorry, human, that it comes to this." He said, the ehladrel swung
around and came toward Harlen.  He tried to parry it, but his sword clanged
into the elven weapon, and was sent flying from his grip as Letharon
twisted it subtly as it swung past Harlen's face.

   It immediately began to flow back toward him, arcing quickly and looking
like it would disembowel the huntsman.  Harlen did the only thing he could,
and lunged at the bladedancer.  He felt the side of the ehladrel slide down
his left side, removing skin for several inches, but not biting deeply.  He
impacted with the elf, driving him back and pinning one arm to his side.

   The elf screamed in frustration as he was borne over and the two fell to
the floor, tumbling over each other.

   Harlen looked for the deadly elven weapon and saw it already coming
toward him again, from the unpinned arm, flowing still in its gentle arcs
and subtle angles.  He rolled off the elf and the blade hummed past his
ear. The elf leapt agilely to his feet as Harlen continued to roll until he
had several feet between himself and Letharon.  Another arrow shattered
against the ehladrel, one of the black ones Harlen had given her.  He
looked at Hyandai.  "You are a stubborn bitch are you not?" He said,
smiling coldly.

   Hyandai cursed under her breath and drew another arrow.  Her last
remaining white arrow, that she had brought from her homelands.  "You will
not win this, Letharon." She said, her eyes focused just as coldly as his
own.  "I will stop you."

   As Letharon laughed, she spoke the words again, sending coruscating
light through both bow and arrow.  Harlen looked at her and knew that the
bastard would simply deflect and shatter this arrow, too.

   Suddenly, the doors reverberated with a massive boom.  Someone outside
was not pleased with them being locked, and was planning on coming through.

   The ehladrel was coming up again, and Harlen knew what he had to do, in
an instant.  He could not allow that thing to parry Hyandai's solitary
arrow.  The elf was not even watching him closely and did not believe what
he saw when Harlen stepped forward and allowed the ehladrel to impale his
leg as it swung around from an underhanded motion.

   Harlen screamed in pain as the blade sank into his thigh and deep into
the bone at his leg's core.  He then looked at the stunned elf, bringing
his fist down on the elf's immobile hand.  Then his leg folded as the bone
snapped in his thigh and another bright spike of pain lanced through his
body.  The ehldarel was still in his leg as he collapsed, and through the
haze of pain and shock he grabbed it in both hands, pulling it loose from
Letharon's numb fingers.

   Hyandai fired and the arrow drew a razor thin line of white energy from
her bow to Letharon's chest, striking him from the left side and sinking
into him until only the fletching remained visible.  The razor barbed point
stuck out of his other side, rich in blood and protruding just under his
arm.  The elf looked toward her, his eyes wide with mild surprise, then he
turned back toward Harlen, opening his mouth to say something, but then
collapsed onto his face, landing on the hunter's uninjured leg.

   Harlen felt unconsciousness coming for him, and tried to slide from
beneath the fallen elf.  Hyandai grabbed his arm and pulled him free, then
helped him half-crawl to the stairs to the throne.  The door boomed again,
and cracks appeared in the aged wood.  Hyandai cried openly now, but looked
up at the doors.

   "They will break it down soon." She said to Harlen, reaching for the
ehladrel he still clutched in both hands.  "I need the weapon, my beloved."
She kissed his hand and he let go of the gracefully curved blade.  She
pulled it free of his leg, sending his blood flying over the marble floor
tiles.  "Forgive me, my lover." She said as she turned toward the doors. 
Another loud boom reverberated through the large chamber as one door
cracked completely.  The next hit would split it.

   Harlen propped his head on a stair.  "No.  Run, Hyandai, don't do this."
He said.

   She looked back at him, and smiled.  "I must, Harlen, you have protected
me for days now, and it now falls to me." She said.  "You cannot deny me my
own moment of heroism."

   He groaned as the door split asunder, wood shattering in all directions
as the main sections fell to the chamber floor.  Orcs poured in through the
gap, dozens of them, and they ran for Hyandai.

   As they crossed the large chamber, Hyandai wailed something out in
elven, and held the ehladrel before her in a perfectly vertical position,
and she opened her eyes cold upon the orcs.  The orcs in the frontmost rank
stumbled upon seeing her visage, and the smile that came to her full lips,
and the emerald ice that was her eyes.  One orc in a farther back row
hurled a stone at her.

   As the stone flew toward her, she began to dance, the ehladrel becoming
an extension of her arms.  The stone seemed to hit her in the head, as she
turned away from it on its fast shallow arc.  However, it seemed to get
entangled in her red silken hair, it now was encased in her fiery tresses.
The first few, brave, and apparently not overly bright orcs stepped
forward, bringing up their spears threateningly.

   With a frightening laugh, Hyandai cut the heads from the spears, sliding
the ehladrel through the shafts like a razor over chin stubble.  One of the
heads popped up into the air.  And the ehladrel tapped it gently as it
floated at the top of its trajectory.  The point bulleted off into the
crowd of orcs, and there was a scream as it tore through some unfortunate's
body in the back ranks.  The three leading orcs stared at their decapitated
polearms for only a moment before their own heads separated from their
bodies.  Moving with blinding speed, Hyandai stepped up and swung the blade
in what looked like a negligent motion, and their heads simply toppled from
their shoulders, followed by their slower-reacting bodies.

   The orcs in the front, witnessing this, were shaken greatly, but being
pressed forward by their companions behind them.

   Harlen watched in amaze as his vision flickered between near blackness
and something akin to normalcy.  She danced around the front rank, the orcs
being cautious and fearing the whirling blade in her hands.  Here an orc
clutched at his gut as his organs flooded from him, there an orc's brain
slid out of his skull as the bone and flesh simply folded away from his
head.  The blade was nearly invisible and she was but a indistinct blur
now. Suddenly, she was spinning on the toe of one foot, then the stone that
had been hurled at her shot out of the vortex, striking a particularly big
orc with enough force to pulverize his face and send him flipping back onto
several of his smaller compatriots.  She stopped a moment, the orcs
watching her closely.  She hurled the ehladrel at one of the orcs in the
front rank.  It spun toward this unfortunate, but halfway through the
flight of the weapon, Hyandai collapsed onto the floor, and the orc deftly
caught the ehladrel.  The orcs stood for a moment, then every orc standing
near the orc who caught the weapon started to fall.

   The orc screamed in elven with its raspy, harsh voice, as it started
moving with an agility no orc ever possessed.  Orcs fell all around it,
arms and legs flying from them along with heads and chunks of other meat
and gore.  As the orcs started regaining their wits, the ehladrel was
flying again, landing in the hands of a particularly large orc, with
bulging muscles, heavy armor and a massive steel helm on its disfigured
head.

   Using brute force, and the ehladrel as a single handed blade, it started
to lay waste to the orcs around it, the crowd that was in the room was
thinning visibly as orcs quickly lost heart and started to flee the killing
field within the chamber.  The floor was now slick with their flowing
blood, and there were pitiable cries of the dead and dying marking time
with Hyandai's beautiful and terrifying dance.  The massive orc shrugged
off several blows from his companions, their blades deflected by the armor
on its body or simply letting the blows land and do damage.  Hyandai
ignored the wounds, not concerned if this body survived.  She reveled in
the power in this beast's arms, and screamed out a incoherent cry of
victory as she felled another large orc, severing his head in a clean
stroke of the blade.

   A hurled javelin arced toward him from near the door, and the ehladrel,
seemingly of its own accord, batted it into the air, and as it floated
there, swatted it on the backswing, sending it rocketing into a nearby orc
even as the weapon nearly bisected another orc vertically from crotch to
neck.

   The orcs finally broke, their morale shattered by a foe that they could
not kill at a distance and who they could barely wound up close, and who
could move between them like a wraith, stealing their very bodies and using
them to further its own ends.

   Screaming that the witch queen of the elves was among them, the orcs
began fleeing the chamber.  Hyandai cut down over a half dozen as they fled
the room, hurling orcish and elven curses at the retreating figures as they
bolted down the hallway.  She flexed her massive arms and roared at the
ceiling of the chamber.  She then turned toward her body, still lying limp
and forgotten on the floor.

   Harlen watched as the huge orc walked over to Hyandai's body, and
hovered over it, placing the ehladrel gently into her fingers.  Then the
massive creature turned her face to him.  Suddenly, the orc collapsed,
falling to one side as Hyandai rolled from beneath him.  He was breathing,
but he did not move.

   She rolled to her feet and brought the blade down on the orc's skull. 
Then she looked at the bodies littering the floor and dispatched the few
who were grievously injured but not yet dead.  One wounded orc was trying
to crawl to the door, Hyandai's cold eyes came to rest upon him.  "You wish
to leave?" She asked.

   The orc turned with horror in his red eyes.  "Please, witch, do not kill
me, I will never raise my hands to you again." He begged.  Her head tilted
a little as she brought the ehladrel down and swept it along the floor.  A
spear lying there seemed to spin into the air and lance toward the orc with
such force that it picked him up on its flat trajectory and impaled him
against the door, the spear quivering from his chest and the light of life
fading from this bloodshot eyes.

   "I know you will not, foul beast." She said.

   She turned back to Harlen, her eyes still shards of emerald ice.  She
looked at him appraisingly for a moment, then walked up to him.  "Human,
you are hurt." She said, her voice marked by near emotionlessness.  She
knelt beside him and set the ehladrel down.  As soon as the weapon left her
fingers, her eyes shifted and softened, and warmed.  "Spirits save me." She
said, looking over her shoulder at the room full of carnage.  "Harlen, I'm
sorry, oh please, forgive me." She said, kissing his hand.

   He twitched a little and looked at her.  Then smiled.  "Forgive you
what, my betrothed." He said.  "For being a war goddess?"

   She smiled timidly.  "It was not me." She said, eyeing the ehladrel. 
"It was the heirloom."

   She kissed his hand again.  "You were always safe." She said, then
looked at his leg.  "We must move quickly." She said.  Leaning toward the
wound.

   Harlen watched in fascination as she started to mend his leg.  Her sweet
breath cooled the wound, and the numbness that was settling on his thigh
receded, and pain lanced through him again.  He gasped at the pain, but it
soon passed, as she mended bone, muscle and sinew.  His eyes widened in
fascination as he saw muscle flowing like water, filling the gap between
their cords, and veins rejoining, and pulsing with blood again.  The heavy
bone of his thigh rejoined and fused, forming a whole piece again.  Within
a minute, the leg was all but mended, with only a long pink area of skin
marking its former state.

   Hyandai looked up at him, and kissed the thigh.  There were deep black
marks around her eyes, and her face looked drawn and thin, even the luster
of her fiery hair and the emerald of her eyes was dulled.  She looked old,
and she looked worn.

   He sat up, pain aching through his side, where the ehladrel had skinned
him like a filleting knife.  She rose to her feet slowly, thought she did
stay upright, she swayed.  "I cannot run, Harlen." She said.

   Harlen stood up.  He stooped and picked up the ehladrel, which she
seemed to have forgotten.  "I don't think we have to." He said, looking at
the empty passage beyond the door.  "I believe you've scared them all off."
He smiled at her.  "You scared me pretty well, myself." He could feel the
weapon tingling in his hand, but it was just a minor feeling, and probably
all in his head.

   He put his arm around her and helped her to walk.  He stopped again, and
picked up his own sword, and Hyandai's bow.  He sheathed the sword and put
the bow beside his over his back.  "Come, my beloved." He said.  "We should
probably go from here."