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

   Part Thirteen

   Harlen put his arm under Hyandai's ribs and helped her stay on her feet.
She felt wasted and thin, like she had spent months in a dark cell.  He
looked over the carnage in the room that Hyandai had wrought alone.  Body
parts lay strewn about, and whole bodies, cloven in two, heads, arms, and
legs.

   She shuddered as she saw it too, as for the first time.  "No wonder they
called me a witch." She muttered.

   Harlen started to move them forward again, toward the shattered doorway.
"You were magnificent." He said, kissing her hair.  "You looked like a
warrior goddess from the old tales from Syriss."

   She looked at the ehladrel in his hand.  "It was the weapon." She said.
"There is a reason the orcs fear it.  And my people seek its return.

   They came to the fallen body of Letharon.  Hyandai looked at his
still-shocked face.  "He was one of our greatest warriors, Harlen." She
said, her voice heavy with sadness.

   "Why did he do this?" He asked.

   "Some elven folk believe it a mistake to work closely with the humans, a
minority, but a increasingly radical minority.  The losses of the battles
in the Windy Isles have caused them to begin a campaign to subvert the
people away from the crown's will and turn us back inwards, like our Starre
Island cousins." She shook her head.  "There are dark elves among them, as
well, being as they share some goals."

   Harlen muttered.  "The enemy of my enemy is my friend."

   She knelt and closed Letharon's eyes, needing the huntsman's help to
regain her feet.  "I wish it were not so, but they see it that way,
indeed." She looked back at Lotharon as Harlen guided her out the doorway.
"He was a hero once, and now has died defying the will of his people, the
ones he swore to protect, it pains me to see him in such ignoble company
upon a field of death."

   Harlen nodded.  "He chose the wrong path." He said.  "Becoming that
which you hate to destroy another which you hate gains you nothing.  I
learned that the hard way." He gave her a wry smile.

   She kissed him on the cheek.  "Forgive yourself now, beloved." She said.

   They cautiously approached the stairs, but there was no movement in any
of the side chambers.  All the orcs, it seemed, had truly fled in terror at
the wroth of the `witch queen.' Harlen could not blame them; he was more
than a little frightened of the small woman who now leaned on him for
support.

   As they descended the stairs, Harlen said.  "I thought you had to have a
willing person to perform your spiritual leap into them."

   She shook her head.  "Only if you wish them to survive it." She looked
at him with sad eyes.  "I was not concerned if the orcs' minds were
destroyed at my coming into them.  She again looked at the ehladrel.  I was
not concerned for much, except defeating those that would stand in my way
to freedom.  It is a terrible weapon you hold, Harlen.  It does not care
who it destroys, so long as an elf wields it and believes in what he is
doing."

   "Isn't it that way with all weapons?" He replied as he looked into the
corridor toward the exit of the tower.

   She sighed and said.  "Yes, I guess it is." Again, there was nothing
moving in the tower.  The orcs had fled far from this place of terror for
their kind.  There may have been several hundreds in the fortress, but the
word of the witch queen broke their will, and none of their kind would
stand for being simply slaughtered.  Harlen envied orcs their very selfish
attitude, though it is also why they have achieved little in the world.  He
grinned realizing that selfishness gains an individual, and selflessness
gains a people.

   They emerged into the darkness of early night.  Hyandai scanned the
surrounding hillocks and rock piles.  "There is nothing moving, save small
animals." She pronounced.  "Was I truly so terrifying?" She asked, looking
at Harlen with large eyes.

   He nodded sadly.  "Yes." He said simply.

   She touched his cheek.  "Even for you?"

   He looked away from her, breaking the contact with those green, luminous
eyes.  "Yes." He said.  "To know my lover can destroy a man's mind with but
a glance, or his body with a simple flick of her wrist." He looked back at
her.  "How is a man to react to such terrifying power?"

   She shrugged, a habit she had been increasingly using as she spent time
with the man she loved.  "How am I to react to a man who could snap my neck
like kindling?" She said quietly.  "Or break my heart with a few little
words." She added, her eyes dropping.  "You may not know it, but when I
first met you, the very first human I had actually spoken to, and one of
the first I had seen, I was terrified of you.  You were so big and
powerful, and moved like an animal, a bear stalking his wood." She smiled.
"But I needed to trust you, so I bit that back and trusted you."

   He smiled at the memory of their meeting, seemingly so long ago, but
only, in reality, perhaps two weeks.  "You're saying I should trust you
now?"

   She nodded.  "Please." Her eyes implored him.  This was very important
to her, and she knew if he could not trust her, their love was doomed.  "My
power will never be used to hurt you, and you know that."

   He considered this as they descended the steps that led to the mouth of
the fortress, both keeping wary eyes out on the field and surrounding
environs.  "I guess that I do." He finally said.  "As I suppose you do, as
well."

   She smiled and kissed his shoulder.  "With my very life." She whispered.
They finally reached the first outlying rock piles and did their best to
blend into them, and move quietly between the formations and small hills,
leading back to the high pass to his home.

   Hyandai could not climb the steep path up to the pass this night, and
they sought out some secluded location to pitch their blankets for a
night's sleep.  Harlen finally declared a spot somewhat suitable and they
unfurled their beds.  She immediately sought his touch as they lay down and
he embraced her, knowing that to make her feel, even in the least,
unwanted, would hurt her greatly.  He soon realized he was drawing as much
comfort from her as she was from him, and smiled into her cinnamon-scented
hair as they both drifted into uneasy sleep.

   --

   In the morning, Hyandai seemed much recovered, though there was still a
noticeable darkening around her eyes.  She awoke Harlen with a passionate
kiss, they both smiled at the bright morning that greeted them as they
moved from the shadows of the cleft they had chosen for a shelter.  He
sought out a vantage point and used his spyglass to peer back down at the
fortress.

   "Our friends didn't stay scared for too long." He said, with a sour
expression on his face.  "They're back, and in force."

   She nodded.  "We must be cautious, then." She murmured as he clambered
down the rocks he had stood upon.  "They will not tarry with us again, they
will try to kill us, and may even have gifted among them now, their own
magicians."

   The two ate quickly of their nearly depleted stores of food, and rolled
their beds up and tossed them into their packs.  Hyandai took possession of
the ehladrel and strapped it to her back, as Harlen remembered her brother
wearing his.  "I will only use it if I must, beloved." She said as he
looked on her with worried eyes while she tied it over her shoulder.  He
seemed satisfied with that, and nodded curtly as he took several of his
arrows and refilled Hyandai's now empty quiver.

   They set off to climb the steep path, and managed to finish their ascent
by noon, though Hyandai was completely spent at the finish, and Harlen had
to nearly carry her.  They peered down at the fortress.  Bands of the orcs
were fanning out from it, and he pulled forth his spyglass again.

   Two groups of over a dozen of the foul creatures were pressing toward
the pass they had ascended.  He examined them as best he could at this
distance.  They seemed to be searching as they went, meaning they had not
already spotted the two of them.  Hyandai sat upon a stone, leaning on a
larger one next to it.  "They pursue us?" She said quietly.

   Harlen said.  "Yes, and two groups seem to be coming this way." He
looked again.  "Perhaps thirty in total."

   She sighed.  "I cannot fight off that many again, betrothed." Said
quietly.  "It would kill me."

   He looked at her a long moment.  "I know." He said.  "Can you walk
farther?"

   She nodded, but it had no emphasis to it.  "A ways, but not far." She
said.

   "Then come, we will leave the pass and hide to let you regain your
strength." He said, taking her hand and guiding her northward.  They
explored up high onto the side of the mountain, peering into its crevasses
and under its stone-littered sides.  Harlen was cautious the whole time to
mask the signs of their passing.  Finally, he found a small hollow under a
large boulder, and they took shelter within.  It was barely large enough
for the two of them to lie flat and side by side, but neither seemed to
mind.

   Harlen stacked stones in his best guess of the look of random rubble
outside the entrance to mask it from all but the closest scrutiny.  They
then laid within and rested, and spoke softly, at the times when they were
both wakeful.

   Hyandai was very concerned that there may be more elves of minds akin to
Lotharon's.  She did not relish returning the ehladrel to her folk, only to
have it again seized by zealots.

   Harlen shrugged at that.  "I don't see how it can be protected
absolutely." He said.  "You need it, but are afraid to use it.  Not a
pleasant dilemma."

   She agreed.  "The dichotomy of power, I guess." She murmured into his
neck.  She began kissing his exposed throat.

   Touching her bare spine beneath her half top, Harlen smiled and said. 
"You seem to be recovering your energy.  We should probably go in the
morning."

   She responded to his gentle touch by pressing herself against him more
firmly.  "Would that I had the energy for a night of love." She said
wistfully, kissing his neck again.

   Harlen smiled and stroked her hair and back.  "I do to." He whispered
into her pointed ear.

   They both dozed fitfully through the night, and finally the sky began to
brighten with the coming of the sun.  Before the orb of fire could clear
the near horizon, they were moving among the rocks of the pass, keeping to
cover as much as they could, and warily scanning the paths before them. 
Hyandai heard the tread of heavily booted feet first, and pulled Harlen
into a small cleft between two stones, turning her back to the outside and
flipping up her hood.  A group of half a dozen orcs moved past, led by one
of the big brutes.  They seemed engrossed in discussing what they would do
to the human and elf witch if they caught them.  What the orcs lacked in
imagination, they made up for in cruelty.

   After the group had passed out of hearing, the couple slipped onto the
path again, and by mid afternoon had reached the top of the steep descent
to the valley between the ranges of jagged-edged peaks.

   Harlen scanned the valley floor for any sign of motion and found four
groups of under a dozen orcs were down there, but none near the pass at the
moment.  The couple descended as fast as they dared risk, several times
falling for a short distance and hurting an arm or leg, but nothing
serious. They finally reached the bottom just after full dark, with Hyandai
gently guiding Harlen by the arm and whispered verbal directions.  She led
them from the bottom of the path and out into the broken stone piles and
crevasses.

   They found a good-looking spot and made camp for the night.  The last of
their food was used then, and they also emptied their water skins.  Harlen
said.  "We can refill the bottles once out of the mountains, for certain.
And I can hunt us some game when we get to the forest."

   She nodded as she ate her bread and hard tack.  Suddenly, she leapt to
her feet, grabbing at the ehladrel with both hands.  Her eyes adopted the
cold look again, and her face set with determination.  Then she was gone,
Harlen blinking at her sudden disappearance.  He drew his sword out, but
did not see far in the moonless overcast sky.

   There were sounds in the rocks, the singing of steel on steel then
grunts of pain or surprise.  A few moments after it started, it stopped. 
An eerie dead silence fell on the area, and Harlen could hear his own
heartbeat.  Pounding hard and fast in his chest as he breathed shallow and
fast, as well, worried for his lover as much for the danger she represented
as that which she was exposing herself too.

   A minute or two later, she reappeared near him.  "Why did you not say
something?" He demanded as he made out her shape nearing him.

   "I could not, Harlen." She said.  "There was no time, the orcs had to be
dealt with." Her eyes were still cold and hard as ice.

   He looked at her with wide eyes.  She squatted beside him and put the
heirloom down.  "Please, Harlen, do not hold the actions I take while
holding that thing against me." She whispered, with tears in her eyes.

   He shrugged.  "It seems you elven folk have a lot of times that you can
act without wanting to be held accountable." His face showed a bit of
anger, and resentment.  "Do you never take credit for your own actions?"

   She could not meet his eye.  "I ask much of you, I know." She said. 
"But I would not ask for your forgiveness for them if I felt I was not
worthy of it." He could see tears running down her cheeks.  "I am trying to
get both of us out of this alive, betrothed." She said, now looking at him.
"For I wish to spend many, many more days with you, and would not have them
cut short."

   Harlen's expression softened somewhat.  "I know, Hyandai." He said. 
"But I am a grown man, please stop behaving as if I cannot be part of our
protection."

   She nodded.  "I will try." She said.  "But, that weapon was crafted
before man was forging metals and tilling fields." She looked at him
sidelong.  "It does not realize that man is a race that stands proud this
day, and does not need looking after, as they did in those times."

   He tried to think of time in such a scale, but could not; he had no
frame of reference.  It was widely known that elves had the first real
civilization in Feldare, and that they taught many secrets to men who lived
lives as little better than animals.  That was even in the Book of the One,
which called elves the angelis feldaris, or the angels of the land.  They
were exempted from the Church, unless they sought it out, and were not to
be proselytized to, as the Book requires devotees to do to other men, for
they were already blessed by the One.

   He thought about her words.  "I'm sorry, angel." He said, recalling that
term from the Book.  Then looked at her lovely face, with its tears.  "I
wish I could stop making you cry." He murmured and kissed her on the
forehead.

   She smiled.  "My fears make me cry, not you." She said, touching his
arms.  "I fear you ultimately finding me too alien to love." Her eyes were
earnest, and she seemed to be examining him in the darkness.  "I sometimes
feel that I am, that all elves are."

   Harlen laughed at that, a bit more loudly than was probably a good idea,
given their circumstance, but it raised Hyandai's hopes, nonetheless.  "You
think yourself too alien to love?" He asked.  "I fear you will find that I
am not a worthy vessel for yours, being only a human."

   They laid upon the blanket, touching each other gently in the darkness.
"There is nothing about being a human to be called only, my betrothed." She
said.  "Despite your short lives, you accomplish, with ease, things that
elves spend more than a lifetime of man trying to master." She touched his
arm.  "Did you know our generals in time of war are often humans?"

   He shook his head.  "I did not." He said.  "Why is that?"

   She smiled.  "We are horrible strategists." She said, giggling.  "We can
do fine in small fights, but when it comes to the art of making real war,
humans are, without contest, the masters."

   Harlen gave a small smile.  "A dubious honor, I concede." He looked up
at the low-flying clouds.

   She said.  "Perhaps.  But there are other ways in which you of the third
race make us nearly livid with envy." She cast her mind back.  "Your
children, for example, and your ability to live nearly anywhere in Feldare,
and thrive.  How blessed would be the lives of the elder race if we could
dwell, like man, in the hills, and on the plains, and even in the
mountains."

   Harlen blinked, the idea of Elven folk being jealous of humanity was
quite surprising.  "Do your people really feel that way?" He asked.

   She nodded.  "Some so much so they wish us to stop dealing with men
altogether." She said.  "And I do not believe in their rhetoric that the
elder race is superior.  The two simply have differing survival
strategies." She nuzzled into his neck and kissed his chin.  "I believe if
you cannot defeat them, then you should embrace them."

   This brought a chuckle to Harlen, though a kernel of what she said
resonated true.  What would become of the elves if they intermingled with
humanity too much?  There were half elven men, naturally, but what of elven
culture and society?  Such thoughts were beyond the huntsman.  It was his
place only to worry for the times and situations he found himself within in
his days.  He stroked Hyandai's soft hair and breathed deep her cinnamon
scent.

   "If the elves pass into history, it will be a sore loss." Harlen finally
said.

   Hyandai rose to her elbows.  "As a race, we are still strong Harlen."
She whispered.  "I should not have burdened you with our woes as a
species." Then she frowned into the darkness.  "Certainly not when I am,
perhaps, furthering those woes." This last came out as less than a whisper.

   "You should not heed the words of a traitor to your own people." The
huntsman said, a twinge of worry in his voice.  "He spoke words that would
cause you to doubt yourself.  Don't even give him that much victory."

   She nodded.  "I shall try, betrothed." She said and lowered herself to
nuzzle his neck again.  After a short while both drifted off to sleep.

   --

   Harlen awoke first, for a change, and slipped from the small crevasse
they were sheltering in.  After a few minutes of exploring and climbing, he
found a reasonably good vantage point and scanned the valley he could see
with his spyglass.  By the time he had satisfied himself that there were no
orcs within some distance of them, Hyandai had crawled from their little
shelter.  "Anything?" She asked, peering up at him on top of a small mound
of stones.

   "Nothing for as far as I can see from here." Harlen replied.  "I can
only see a short ways, though.  If we wish to move, we should be cautious,
and move north first." He began climbing down the steep, treacherous side
of the rock pile.

   As they packed their gear, Harlen asked.  "Why is it you say that
Letharon had an accomplice within the elven community?"

   "He knew of my coming." She said.  "And from what I can remember, he
left our village about the same time the ehladrel went missing.  I did not
leave until almost six months had passed."

   "So someone from the village must have told him?" Harlen ventured.

   The elf nodded.  Slipping her blanket into her small pack.  "And I worry
that we may encounter this person, or maybe persons, on our way back." Her
face grew somber.  "There is also the matter of who it may be.  I dread
knowing, for it will surely be someone I knew and trusted." She locked her
emerald eyes upon Harlen.  "It will break my heart if and when I discover
who it may be."

   Pondering the weight of that thought, Harlen finished his packing and
they began moving northward.  They moved slowly among the large formations
of stones, often they were forced to backtrack as a potential path turned
out to be a dead end.  Progress northward was painfully slow, but they were
not pressed yet for time.  Their supplies would last them five more days,
or more if they were cautious.  Water might become an issue, but the rains
were plentiful this season, and the small ponds they ran across were
potable, if not palatable.  As the sun passed beyond the western peaks,
early in the evening, as the sunset always is in this narrow cleft between
ranges, they sought out shelter amid a tiny copse of stunted trees.

   Hyandai was relieved to be among trees, even diminutive ones clinging to
life in a tight knot.  Harlen could see much tension flow from her as she
simply sat among the boughs of the small trees' shelter.  Her emerald eyes
seemed to sparkle more and her hair gained its luster.  Were elves so
closely tied to the wood?  He thought, but decided that they must be, for
the changes in her appearance were mirrored in her behavior.  She became
more playful that evening, and even more affectionate, showering him with
little kisses and caresses throughout their late supper and as they
prepared for sleep.

   As Harlen lay down, Hyandai's hands were exploring his body, already
seeking out the places she could touch and arouse his lusts.  Far from
minding, he was elated and responded quite enthusiastically.  While they
seemed to be far from adventurous in their lovemaking that night, they were
certainly both energetic, though she spared him the ordeal of feeding him
more energy for multiple rounds.  The one bout they partook of was more
than sufficient to sate their desires, and they lay afterwards in a happy
embrace.

   "What shall we do when we get back to Morrovale?" Harlen asked her as he
stroked her smooth shoulder.

   She looked up into the starry night.  "I suppose we need to get this
home to my people." Said Hyandai.  "Then I will be released from the oath I
spoke to my clan and can go my way.  Then come back to you."

   "Can I not go with you?" He asked.

   She nodded.  "I will say you can, as now you have helped me complete
this quest." She paused a long moment.  "But you may find that your coming
will be met with mixed feelings, I fear."

   "If you think it allowable, then I will come with you, nonetheless."
Harlen murmured.  "I would not be parted from you unless need be."

   She idly stroked his chest.  "I had thought that would be your mind on
it." She said.  "I will gladly present my betrothed to my people, whether
they approve or not.  I am not shamed by my choice of a mate."

   Harlen smiled into the darkness and kissed her forehead.  "And I am
honored by your choice." He said.

   --

   They awoke to a loud sound nearby.  Hyandai was on her feet first, her
nude form light against the dark backdrop of the small knoll of trees.  She
peered into the darkness, reaching for the ehladrel with uncertain fingers.

   "What is it?" Harlen whispered as she found the long, ornately sculpted
weapon.

   She glared down at him.  "Still your tongue, human." She hissed and
searched the darkness again.

   Harlen blinked at the sharp, mildly insulting rebuke, and then saw the
glint of that blasted weapon in her hands.  Shaking his head, he rose from
the blankets, and slipped on his pants as she moved a short way toward the
edge of the wood.

   She came back in a moment.  "Orcs." She whispered.  "About a dozen." Her
eyes were furtive in the limited light, and Harlen realized he could see
them.  It was no illusion that made elven eyes light in the dark; they
really did so.

   "We should leave, then." Harlen said.

   She nodded, but her expression was one of disappointment.  "Agreed.  Let
us pack camp quietly and move quickly."

   They stowed their gear and were moving toward the edge of the little
copse when a shout went up from the orcish camp.  Hyandai grabbed his arm
and broke into a full run, casting stealth aside, and hoping the cloaks
would protect them from prying eyes.

   He stumbled here and there a little, as she leaped over an obstacle that
he could not quite make out in the near darkness of the starlit night.  He
had his sword drawn now, and she carried the ehladrel.

   As they turned a corner around a sizable mound of boulders, they came
face to face with three of the larger sort of orcs who were just as
surprised to see the couple.  Before the orcs could so much as grunt out
their shock, one died with the elven weapon slitting him from neck to
groin. The other two had barely begun to move when Harlen thrust the
broadsword through one's gullet, releasing a gout of thick, red blood.  The
ehladrel moved in a graceful arc in the starlight, and came full circle
just in time to catch the other large orc's charge, and Hyandai gracefully
slipped aside as the headless corpse flopped onto the ground.

   Again, she grabbed his hand and they ran.  It was almost an hour before
she slowed down, and they cast about for somewhere to lie for the remainder
of the darkening hours of the night.  They finally found a small patch of
level ground among some high stones and slipped into the relative shelter
of the hidden space.

   Harlen tossed out his blanket, flapping it to get rid of some dirt and
leaves from the site they had just fled.  "You sure get an attitude when
you pick that thing up." He said, nodding toward the ehladrel.

   Hyandai cast her eyes toward the weapon.  "I know, I am sorry for that,
my love." She murmured.  "It just takes over, or at least something in it
makes me feel like I am not really me anymore."

   Harlen slipped off his soft-soled boots and looked up at Hyandai as she
sat next to him, kicking off her own footwear.  She turned toward him. 
"Those are not my thoughts, or words, Harlen, you must believe me." She
said, her eyes filled with worry.

   "I do angel." Harlen replied.

   They propped their weapons within easy reach, Hyandai had Harlen move
the ehladrel, not wishing to touch the powerful item until she must.  She
curled up against him, her small hands on his chest and her lovely face
pressed to his neck.

   Harlen sighed as she breathed gently into his neck and hair, she was
quickly asleep, her breathing becoming slow, even, and deep.  He stroked
her fiery hair gently as she slept, and he watched her eyes twitch in the
dim moonlight.  He wondered what she dreamed of, and wished fervently he
could join her in them.  Perhaps she was in her homeland, among the great
ornthalion trees that her people so adored.  The man tried to imagine what
it must be like to roam in an elven wood.  Would it be like a park, the
wooded garden that the duke had on his manor grounds?  Or was it more like
the woods he hunted daily, but more so?

   As he watched the skies, he detected motion there, a slight motion, but
there were stars winking out then back on again.  He furrowed his brow and
watched the moving shape more closely.  An eagle?  He wondered.  Or, maybe,
a hawk?

   Were their enemies in the air as well as on the ground?  Harlen
shuddered at the thought of having enemies so powerful that they could take
to the sky to thwart Hyandai's goals.

   It was an owl, he finally realized, hearing a distant hoot high above
him.  He smiled upward at his fellow hunter and let himself doze as well.

   --

   "Awaken, human, we must move quickly." Hyandai said, that cold tone told
him, even before he pried his eyes open, that she was holding the ehladrel.

   He sat up and looked at her.  She had blood on her legs and one arm, and
the ehladrel was coated in the sticky red stuff.  He pulled his boots on
and grabbed his blanket even as he took to his feet.  Hyandai was already
slinging her bow over her shoulder.  "There are more, but they hesitate to
follow me." She said.

   Harlen smiled.  "I don't doubt that, Hyandai." He said.  "You frighten
me pretty bad, and you're not trying to kill me."

   She gave him an impatient look.  "You speak casually to me, human, this
is not the time for banter." She said, her voice dripping with
self-superiority.

   He had enough of this crap, he decided.  "Listen you arrogant elf." He
said, shoving his blanket into his small knapsack.  "You didn't condescend
to me when I was fucking you the other day."

   Hyandai blinked a few times, and her eyes took on a faraway look. 
"Harlen, please do not grow angry with me." She whispered, though her eyes
did not meet his.  "It is not you or me, it is the ehladrel."

   He nodded.  "That piece of elven steel is going to talk you right into a
lonely walk home, Hyandai." He said, hefting his pack and grabbing his bow.
"I suggest putting it away for now."

   The elven woman's brow furrowed and she picked up her blanket and rolled
the ehladrel within its cloth folds.  Soon she had a bundle about four feet
long and almost a foot around.  This she tied a piece of rope around and
slung from her shoulder, beside her quiver.

   The couple set out, not speaking or even walking close to one another.
Hyandai could feel the anger and resentment radiating from Harlen.  It
reminded her of the forced march from the cave toward Morrovale, when he
had grown cold toward her and how she had cried most of that long walk in
the rain.  The weight of the ehladrel pressed against her back.  She would
not leave it where she could casually grab it up.

   Hyandai promised herself to never tell Harlen of the morning's events,
unless she must.  She had arisen early and slipped intentionally from the
camp and sought out a small group of patrolling orcs.  It had been a
bloodbath, quite literally, but one had managed to run away.  She had put
them both at risk just to satisfy some drive of the weapons.' She had
awakened and picked it up.  She longed even now to hold it, to feel that
power course through her sinews and give her strength, grace, and most of
all, power.

   I'm becoming addicted to it.  She thought.  Its power is seductive. 
Harlen looked back over his shoulder and helped her up a steep incline of
rocks and she caught herself almost refusing his proffered hand.  She
forced an unfelt smile to her lips, and his expression softened a little.
What would she do if she alienated him fully?  She wondered.

   They were climbing the pass that led east back to the duchy, and safety.
Apparently, the orcs had not thought to look this far afield, or the ones
that would normally be around this area had been wiped out in the battle
down below, at the bottom of the pass.  Harlen ventured this theory, and
Hyandai agreed.  Or else it is a trap, she thought.  Her mouth stayed
still, though.

   Harlen had just crested the last steep climb of the pass on this side
and turned to watch her progress up the broken slope.  With horror in her
emerald eyes, she watched, as his expression grew puzzled, then he turned
about to face the heights of the pass.  As he turned, a black-shafted arrow
came into view, piercing his right shoulder deeply.  She screamed as
another arrow struck his stomach and he bent double.

   Everything was happening in slow motion now.  She heard the ehladrel cry
out to her.  "Free me!" It screamed in her mind.  "Use me!" A third arrow
missed her lover as he collapsed to the stony ground.

   She found herself unwrapping the rope from the ehladrel as the orcs that
had shot Harlen came forward to finish their chore.

   Thrusting her hand into the blanket she grasped the weapon.  A cry went
up among the half dozen orcs as they saw her, knowing that more interesting
captives were not in the offing.  A bow twanged among the orcs and an arrow
flew toward her.  As if by itself, the ehladrel interposed itself between
her and the arrow, it sank into the blanket and struck steel.  She swung
the weapon, and the blanket flew away from it, unfurling and fluttering to
the ground.  Another orc loosed an arrow at her, but it, like its
companion, failed to find its target.

   She let loose with a blood curdling curse in orcish and charged them. 
Harlen's fading vision witnessed his beloved running full speed toward a
half dozen large, armored orcs.  Their little battle line faltered at the
sight of a tiny elven maiden coming at them.  Two fired at once, their
arrows shattering upon the ehladrel's metal body.

   Harlen could not remain conscious, he felt his head droop, but did not
feel it strike the stones beneath him.

   The first orc died horribly, cut in half at the waist by an almost
negligent shift in the ehladrel's already blurring path.  She was among
them almost instantly and they cried in sheer terror as one after another
of them gave up their lives to the elven weapon that they called the `Bane
of the Chosen."

   Two tried to run, but she stopped them with a rapid, precise motion,
slicing their hamstrings with the razor tip of the weapon.  They tried to
keep crawling, and Hyandai dispatched them unsympathetically, spearing them
in the spine with the ehladrel and only pulling it forth when they stopped
moving completely.

   She returned to Harlen, and knelt beside him.  The stomach wound was
bleeding heavily, and she feared him already dead.  However, she felt for
his pulse and found a reedy thing there, intermittent and weak.  Quickly,
she pulled his shirt up and healed the wound, reddening her lips in her
haste with her lover's own lifeblood.  The arrow in his shoulder had broken
off beneath the skin and she cursed her inability to get it out after a
couple of attempts that caused him to cry out in pain.

   His eyes popped open and he winced at the agony coming to him through
the pierced shoulder.  "Did you?" He asked, looking toward the orcs.

   She nodded.  "They are no longer a threat to us." She whispered with a
smile.  "But you are wounded and I cannot heal it, the tip remains."

   Sweat was standing out from his brow.  "I cannot move that arm, I think
the head is lodged in the bones." He grimaced.  "You will have to get it
out."

   Hyandai blanched.  "I cannot, beloved." She said.  Her eyes looked
frightened and repulsed at the same time.  "I know not how to perform such
acts."

   Sitting up with an exaggerated motion, Harlen said.  "You have to.  I
cannot climb down the pass like this, much less fight if that comes up." He
said.

   Her eyes took on a haunted look.  "I will try." She said quietly.  "But
you will have to guide me."

   Harlen nodded and propped his good shoulder against a large gray stone.
He took his skinning knife from his belt.  "Use this, it's very sharp." He
said.  "You will have to cut flesh until you can get the barbs loose enough
to pull it out."

   She winced at the mere suggestion of cutting him.  Her fingers felt numb
as she took the knife.  She felt clumsy and stupid now, something that did
not come easily to an elven mind.

   The sweat was rolling off of Harlen's brow now.  "Okay, angel, you need
to start cutting around it, go very slowly and feel ahead for large blood
vessels."

   Pain lanced through Harlen's arm as she put blade to wound and began
cutting.  She had tears rolling down her cheeks and her lovely face was
twisted in a grimace of concentration and sadness.  He could feel the blood
soaking his tunic's back and hoped she had not cut anything vital.  The
sound of gritting teeth disturbed her and she stopped.  "I am hurting you
too much." She said

   Harlen's voice was strained.  "No!  Keep going." He said.  His eyes had
a look of determined abstinence in them.  There was a sharp pain as she
moved the arrow in the wound, and then another, even sharper pain as she
took hold of it with finger and thumb, and pulled.  It had been imbedded in
the bone and he felt a massive shock pass through him as it came loose,
tearing more muscle and skin as it released its barbed grip on him.

   Hyandai threw the three inches of steel-tipped wood away from herself,
gory with blood and small bits of meat.  She shivered throughout her body
and her weeping grew louder.  "By the Sprits, that was not pleasant."

   Chuckling, Harlen said, "Truer words may never have been spoken."

   She looked at him.  "You can laugh at a moment like this?" She asked.

   "You will find humans can laugh even as their heads are laid upon the
headsman's block." Harlen replied.

   She gently blew upon the mangled shoulder, and the chipped bone mended,
then the meat grew together, and the skin filled in.  A new, pink skin now
stood in that spot, healed fully.

   Harlen smiled as he rotated that shoulder.  "You did very well,
beloved." He said as Hyandai morosely looked at him.

   "I suppose." She muttered to herself.  Her hands were trembling and her
own brow was now glistening with perspiration.

   Kissing her gently on the brow, Harlen stood up and picked up his bow.
"We should try to get down the pass by tonight." He said.  His gray cloak
flapped in the stiff gusts coming from the woodlands of his home.  "The
farther we get from that damn fortress, the better."

   With a nod, Hyandai regained her feet and handed Harlen back his
skinning knife.  When he took it, she yanked her hand back like it was a
snake or large spider.  Given she was coated partially in dried orc blood,
her revulsion by the small knife confused Harlen a bit, but he simply
sheathed the small blade and they both headed toward the west.  As they
passed the fallen orcs, he noted that they were killed pretty messily, and
further, two were struck from behind.  He did not feel much sympathy for
the brutes.  They had fired upon him with no warning, and deserved no
quarter from himself or from his lover.

   They crossed through the pass uneventfully, moving quickly, and with
little caution.  They wished to leave these infested mountains and regain
the relative safety of the woodlands below.  Finally, the far end was
reached, and they regarded the steep descent to the hills below.  A large
portion of the army was still encamped below them.  Harlen guessed they
were hunting out isolated knots of orcs in the hills.  He passed on word
that the orcs were thick in the mountains, they may well head up into the
high passes to rid the countryside of even more of the foul beings.

   Night had fallen as they reached the lower hills.  A guard challenged
them as they approached the camp.  It was the youth Hyandai had kissed for
a blessing, Dannes.  He immediately became very friendly upon hearing her
soft voice in the night.  "Do you not recognize the woman who blessed you
for battle, Dannes?"

   He grinned so broadly that his teeth shone in the darkening airs. 
"Indeed I do, Lady Hyandai, and I still walk under that blessing's shield."
She stepped close to the youth.

   He regarded her in the dim light that the camp's fires provided at the
distance of the perimeter guards.  "It is good to see you two again." He
said.  "We worried for you when some of us spotted you climbing the pass
during the battle."

   The elven woman smiled.  "We are fine, young Dannes." She said.  "But we
need to rest.  We have had orcs pursuing us for days."

   The lad nodded and waved them past him.  "Proceed, then." He said.  "Let
me not hold you from well-deserved respite."

   All the noblemen had returned to Morrovale.  In their place, they left
Farridin, captain of the East Marches.  He was common born, but a man of
much respect and no small renown in the duchy.  As they moved through the
encampment, Hyandai was impressed with the number of women among the
contingent that remained after the initial battle, almost a third of the
force.

   A surly guard escorted the couple to the captain who seemed quite
delighted to see them.  "I hear you forewarned us about the surprise attack
that first night out." He said to Hyandai after introductions had been
made.

   She nodded hesitantly.  Farridin was a huge man, nearly twice Harlen's
weight and over a foot taller.  The image of an ogre would not leave her
mind's eye as the huge middle-aged man moved about the pavilion tent.  He
clapped Harlen on the shoulder.  "You did well, too, I hear!" The captain
said.  "Better than when you were under my command as a scout."

   Harlen smiled wanly.  "I had hoped you would have forgotten by now,
sir." He said.

   Farridin chuckled.  "Not much chance of that, Harlen." He rumbled. 
"None of my other scouts ever routed a army single handedly."

   Hyandai raised an eyebrow at this.  "Captain?" She asked.  "Please tell
this tale, Harlen seems to have forgotten it."

   The captain handed each a tall glass of wine and bade them sit in large
folding canvas-bottomed chairs.  "Well." He said, smiling at Harlen's
obvious discomfort.  "Harlen was sent to scout out a enemy force.  We were
at war with a neighboring barony.  Even though we were winning handily, it
was costing a lot of good men." He sipped his wine and smacked his lips
appreciatively at the taste.  "He ran across one of their scouts, and they
had a bow-duel, which Harlen won handily.  It was just after dark, and our
man here slips into the other man's uniform and into their camp in the
night.  He not only scouted the camp, but accidentally killed the baron who
was determined to have a war with us."

   He refilled his and Hyandai's glasses; Harlen's was still half full. 
"Now, by accidentally, I mean Harlen was trying to kidnap him, and use him
as ransom or to force the army to withdraw." He chuckled.  "After he had
clubbed the baron unconscious he was carrying the body out of the camp when
one of the enemy's patrols happened upon him.  They were suspicious of
something, but they thought it was smuggling a woman into the camp.  When
Harlen protested that it was no body he carried, one of the guards pierced
it with his spear.  `Ho ho,' says the guard, and laughs as he pulls back
the blanket.  Imagine the horror on his face when he realized he had just
impaled his own lord."

   The captain laughed again.  "Well, they were so stunned that Harlen
managed to knock them out, as well, and he escaped with the baron's corpse.
Without the baron to drive his knights and captains to war, they sued for
truce and returned to their lands." He snorted.  "It was over with but a
single death." He laughed some more and refilled all three glasses.  When
Hyandai spoke again, she had a noticeable slur to her musical voice.  "Is
there anything else about my beloved you can enlighten me with?" She asked,
giving Harlen a wink.

   The captain eyed both of them.  "Not the kind of tales I'd speak to a
lady ma'am." He said, and clapped Harlen's shoulder again.  "Let's just say
that it is fortunate that Master Harlen is faster than the merchants when
they are chasing men away from their daughters."

   Her lover blushed as Hyandai regarded him with a smile.  This forced her
to giggle a little.  "Well, I, for one, am glad of the practice that those
merchants' daughters provided." She said.

   The captain and Hyandai laughed a moment, and then looked at a very
uncomfortable Harlen.  "Come, young Harlen." The captain bellowed.  "What
vexes you?"

   The huntsman shrugged.  "I do not know, captain Farridin.  I fear this
matter with the orcs is worse than it first appears." He filled the
commander in on the goings-on in the mountains, studiously leaving out the
part of an elf in the matter.  The captain grew serious then, and listened
intently to what was effectively a scout's report to the captain, something
these two men had done many times in years ago.

   "I will clear these beasts out, then." The captain rumbled.  "It serves
us ill to kill the ones in these hills, then have fresh orcs simply flow in
from the mountains.  He pondered things a moment longer, then begged leave
to speak to his lieutenants.  Harlen took Hyandai's hand and led her
unsteady feet from the pavilion after farewells were exchanged.

   A young man came up to them.  "The captain has ordered quarters for you
two, sir." He said, bowing slightly.  He led them to a large tent and
inside.  "I am to provide any services you need, sir." He said, standing
inside the flap.

   Harlen looked at him a moment.  "Can you bring us some warm food, and
some beer?  Then you can go." The boy left the tent and returned a few
minutes later, laden with a large platter of food, mostly meats and tubers.
He also carried two large mugs of beer in his other hand.  The lad had a
future in barmaiding, Harlen thought.

   After they had eaten, Harlen asked a passing soldier if there were baths
in the camp.  He nodded and pointed toward a small enclosure of canvas. 
One had a crudely painted triangle on its flap; the other had a
disturbingly shaped penis marking its flap.  Harlen chuckled as he and
Hyandai prepared to go take baths and relax after in the safety of the
camp.