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

   Part Sixteen

   Harlen smiled out his front bedroom window, watching the sunset.  The
fiery reds and oranges reflected from the high clouds reminding him of
Hyandai's hair.  He glanced over his shoulder at her.

   Hyandai lay sleeping soundly, still tired from her ordeal the night
before.  What does this night hold for them?  Harlen wondered.  Will it be
a simple night of peace and quiet, a chance to rest after a harrowing
journey through the mountains and evening of sheer terror and heartbreak?
Or would it hold equally dark happenings?

   A small group of half a dozen town watchmen patrolled past his home,
casting wary eyes toward the little house back among the trees.  Word
spreads fast in Morrovale, and everyone, by now, knew of the incident the
night previous.

   Several of Harlen's friends, fellow huntsmen, had stopped by to offer
their assistance in protecting his home.  He thanked them heartily, but
declared that it was his problem to deal with, and that he would take care
of his issues.  They hesitantly accepted his declaration and moved on,
leaving word to summon them if need be.

   For the first time ever, he had a lock on his doors, and the windows
were now bolted shut on the ground floor.  Harlen sighed at the ironic
necessity of these precautions.  He was fortifying his own home, and
against elven folk.

   He glanced over his shoulder again, this time not at the beautiful woman
who graced his life and his bed, but at the elegantly deadly weapon beneath
that bed, peering out where Hyandai could reach it if needed.

   That weapon, the <I>Ehladrel</I> of her clan, was the cause of his woes,
or so it came into his own mind.  The sooner they were rid of it, the
sooner Harlen could go about his simple, but pleasant life.  As much as
Harlen loved Hyandai, and longed for the sublime pleasures offered by her
exotic, inhuman beauty and appetites, he wished for a sense of normalcy, as
well.

   The sun was now gone, and the last glimmerings of the clouds were lying
upon the edge of the horizon, themselves.  Night belonged to the elves, he
knew, and to orcs.  These recent events were beginning to make him not care
for any of the night-eyed kin of man.  He studied the shadows beneath the
trees across the lane, and tried to plumb their inky depths.

   Turning from the window, he moved to the stairs and down.  Trevir was
curled upon the couch, a thin blanket over him as he read in the book
Harlen had borrowed from his friend.  It was a book about elves, a study of
sorts, penned long ago.  The lad was not a fast reader, as the huntsman had
taught him the art of reading and writing, and Harlen, himself, was not
terribly adept at those arts.

   "Master Harlen?" Trevir asked as the huntsman padded past.

   Harlen paused, looking at the youth.  "Yes, Trevir?" He responded.

   "What does `aloof and enigmatic' mean?" Trevir asked, paging back in the
book a few pages and pointing to part of a passage there.

   A weak smile crossed Harlen's face.  "It means they appear to hold
themselves above baser things in the world and their intentions are not
easy to understand." He replied.

   Trevir nodded.  "Lady Hyandai doesn't seem either of those things." He
said, looking at the book with a dubious eye.

   A low chuckle came from Harlen's chest.  "No, she does not." He said. 
"She seems neither aloof, nor enigmatic.  Well, maybe a tiny bit enigmatic.
But certainly not aloof."

   Trevir closed the book and sat up.  He was still wearing his clothes,
and Harlen also noted his bow and long knife were near to hand.  He did not
approve of weapons being kept about the home, but he could not say much,
with the broadsword and large knives he was now wearing, belted to his
waist.

   "The book says that elves are mostly good." Trevir said, looking at
Harlen.  "But those two, last night, would have killed us and Miss Hyandai
just to get a magic weapon from her?"

   Harlen nodded.  "Most elves are very likely very good." He said.  "But,
just like humans, they have bad people among them."

   Trevir said.  "I would not be able to live with myself if I had slain a
good person last night."

   "Nor I, and that's why you are a good man." Harlen responded.  "Now, let
us good men drink a beer and think on things." He said, heading for the
kitchen.

   Trevir grinned and walked behind him.  Harlen hauled on the rope that
suspended the beer keg down the cold-pit.  He drew them each a tall beer,
then sat at the little kitchen table.

   "Trevir, Hyandai and I will be leaving for her lands tomorrow or the
next day." Harlen said.  "I wish for you to remain here.  But, as before,
if we do not return in a month, go to Tammer.  He has instructions on how
to tend to your needs in my name."

   Trevir nodded.  "Of course, sir." He said, though his eyes did not like
this talk of not returning.  "Is it really that dangerous?"

   Harlen shrugged.  "It could be, the people of Hyandai's folk that are
against her returning the weapon to her clan will be there, as well, I'm
sure." He said.  "I don't expect them to take its coming home lightly, nor
without resistance.  I only hope that we come across elves loyal to her
clan before coming across the traitors.

   "You should let me come." Trevir said, smiling.  "One more set of eyes,
and another bow can't hurt."

   "I wish I could." Harlen responded.  "But Hyandai insists that her
people will only accept me accompanying her, since I am her betrothed."

   "Why do they dislike us so?" Trevir asked, his expression somewhat hurt.

   Harlen thought a long moment.  "I don't think they dislike us, as a
whole, at all.  They are feel both superior and afraid at the same time."
Harlen explained.  "Elves are terrified humanity will extinguish them.  At
the same time, they think that humanity has much maturing to do before
being regarded as equals to the firstborn."

   "But, we don't wish to kill them." The lad said, a touch defensively.

   Harlen laughed at that.  "We don't have to try, Trevir." He said.  "We
can do great harm without any effort at all.  We are simply too numerous
and too acquisitive for them to resist us if they give us even a small
opportunity."

   Harlen took a long pull on his beer.  "But enough of such depressing
thoughts." He finally said.  "Hyandai suspects that you might have been
going out earlier to see a young lady friend.  Is this so?"

   Trevir's face turned bright pink.  "I suppose so, yes." He said, smiling
broadly.  "It wasn't anything, really.  Master Hemdan, the baker, has given
me leave to court his daughter, in their home, of course."

   Harlen, with a supreme effort, kept his face deadly serious.  "And this
daughter's name?"

   Trevir's eyes changed subtly, and Harlen could see the change, and knew
it's meaning well.  "Naomi." Trevir finally said.

   "A lovely name." Harlen said.  "A lovely girl?"

   Trevir nodded enthusiastically.  "One of the prettiest in Morrovale. 
Maybe almost as pretty as Miss Hyandai."

   Harlen's eyes widened.  "That pretty?" He said.  "Then you are a
keen-eyed huntsman, indeed."

   The girl was known to Harlen, despite his probing questions.  Most
people in Morrovale knew one another.  She was a pretty young lass, and
quite a good baker, herself, if her father was to be believed.  However,
she had struck Harlen as a bit pushy, and spoiled.  If Trevir liked her,
though, then it was a blessed thing.

   As word of the attack had spread around town, also word of Trevir's part
in thwarting it and in saving Hyandai's very soul from leaving her fallen
body.  His status in town had leaped that day, and he was, for a time, a
young hero.  The huntsman minded not in the least the accolades and praise
heaped upon the youth.  He knew it would be short-lived, but it was well
deserved, as well.  So long as his transgressions were minor, the lad would
be hard-pressed to do wrong for a couple of weeks.

   As Harlen sat the mug in the sink and Trevir, too finished off his beer.
Harlen felt its effect taking hold of him, and he was becoming drowsy.

   "I must to bed, Trevir." Harlen said.  "You should, as well.  Sleep in
the guest room for tonight."

   Trevir nodded, and collected his bow and knife, and the thin blanket,
and followed Harlen up the stairs.  Harlen closed the door, and bolted it,
again, a new feature in his home.  After he stripped, Harlen slid into the
bed beside the still sleeping form of Hyandai, quietly breathing and still
lovely, even in her repose.  As he reached out to touch her, she opened one
eye partially.

   "Lover." She said, simply and curled up against his side, with her head
on his shoulder, a tiny smile forming on her soft lips.

   --

   As was common in these fall months, the next day dawned dark and dreary.
Low clouds dragged their bellies, it seemed, along the tops of the trees.
These split open and dumped rain upon Morrovale.

   Another long and painfully idle day, Harlen thought, watching the rain
fall.  Hyandai had left the bed early and was, as Harlen watched her out
the window, praying at the elven altar, wearing an oilskin cloak.  She had
been there for the largest part of an hour, so far as Harlen knew, perhaps
longer.

   --

   Hyandai knelt before the altar, her mind instinctively expanding to feel
the weather and space around her.  A subtle and very palpable pleasure
overcame her as the spirits touched her mind.  The spirits did not directly
speak to the person praying to them, and this was such a thing.  They were
reviewing her days with Harlen, alongside her.

   They were trying to show her something, but what?  That Harlen loved
her? She knew that, already.  That she loved Harlen?  She knew that with
even more certitude than the reverse.  She would die for him, if it came to
that, and she knew it.  Her spirit-expanded mind could feel him watching
her from the bedroom window.  With most people, that would be an unwelcome
intrusion, but Harlen was her betrothed.  If anything, he should be here
beside her.  But he was a Oneian, and they had their own prayers and
visions.

   The thought struck her.  What spirits would she find at the Temple of
the One, in Morrovale?  Perhaps she should try to pray at the altar there.

   Some of the images in her mind were repeating now.  She could see no
connection in them, though, and did not know what to make of them, or their
connections to each other, or her current circumstance: Harlen glowering at
the <I>Ehladrel</I>, Harlen fighting with the orcs in the battlefront in
the hills.  Harlen taking a deadly blow to his leg to give Hyandai a clear
shot at Letharon.  Harlen singing to her and rocking her to ease her pain
from the orcs ravishing her.

   Hyandai shook her head and rose.  The spirits withdrew, and she thanked
them curtly, and with respect, but in frustration.  She walked back toward
the house across the thick, lush grass of the rear courtyard.  The rain had
soaked her, for the most part, even through the oilskin, or around it,
rather.  She shed the cloak as she came into the bathing room and walked
through to the common room.

   Harlen was already in the kitchen when she came into that area, cooking
eggs and bacon.

   "Hungry?" He asked as she came through the open archway separating the
kitchen from the common room.  Harlen held out the pan, showing her the
over-easy eggs and the sizzling bacon strips.

   Hyandai's stomach reported in her stead, a rather impressive belly
rumble that caused her to blush slightly.  "I'll take that as a yes." He
said, pointing at the little table.

   She found bread and jellies arrayed upon the table already and began to
spread some of the redberry jelly upon the bread.

   By the time she had finished a small hunk of bread with berries, Harlen
had slid a plate with two of the eggs and a half dozen of the little thinly
sliced strips of bacon.  Elves rarely ate meat, in quantity, anyway, and
almost never pork, except after a rather successful boar hunt.  She liked
the crispy strips of bacon, though, and enjoyed crunching them between big,
hearty bites of the eggs.

   Harlen watched her eat with joy.  All of Hyandai's grace and elegance
seemed forgotten when she was taking in food.  She looked more like a
ten-year-old bolting their food prior to going out for playtime, rather
than a knowledgeable and powerful being that was capable of destroying a
man's mind or healing wounds with her mere breath.

   As the last bite of eggs disappeared with the aid of the two-tined fork
that he had given her, Harlen spoke.  "Would you like . . .." He started,
but an out thrust plate and an almost pitiable expression upon her face
answered him.  Chuckling he loaded it up again, and watched her begin
demolishing a second helping of eggs and bacon, washing it down with water.

   He finally made his own breakfast and sat opposite Hyandai.  "The
weather doesn't recommend travel." Harlen said.

   Hyandai nodded between bites, gesticulating with her fork.  "No." She
said.  "We should wait for clear weather." Then promptly stuffed another
forkload of eggs into her mouth.  "I mean, I am eager to be going, yes, but
not so eager that I wish to travel in a morass to get there." She said,
after swallowing that mouthful.

   He picked at his food carefully, playing with it more than eating it. 
Hyandai was nearly done with her second helping.

   "I apologize, Harlen, but I am famished." She said, noting his attention
toward her rather wolfish table manners.

   Harlen chuckled.  "Don't worry about it, we have plenty of food, and
you've been sorely tried these last days." He said.  "I won't fault you for
being hungry."

   She smiled brilliantly.  "I am gladdened you do not find my appetite
disturbing." Her expression darkened slightly.  "My first potential suitor,
a lad named Irenolan, found my eating so disturbing that he could not bear
to watch me when I was truly hungry."

   Harlen smiled again.  "It seems to me you eat like you intend to eat."
He said.  "Like you don't want to mess about mucking with the stuff."

   She nodded.  "I suppose it came from my eating and working at the same
time." She said.  "Another of my bad habits."

   Oddly enough, he was pleased to know that she had faults, no matter how
small they might be.

   A grin attempted to cross his face as she reached for the fruit bowl on
the corner of the table and began using her nails to flay the skin off an
orange.  Harlen managed to stifle it, though.  No point in embarrassing her
about it.  It certainly did not seem to affect her figure; he noted with an
appraising eye, if anything, she had lost weight since he had met her three
weeks prior.

   As she turned the orange into a dozen little slices, ready for her
consumption, Harlen picked up the plates and silverware and washed them,
along with the cooking pan.  He suddenly felt hands creeping around his
waist and up over his chest.

   "For some reason, watching you do that really heats my blood." Hyandai
said into his ear, with a puff of warm breath.

   He smiled as he turned about, and was startled to see her nude before
him.  He could have sworn he had only turned his back for a moment or two.
She wrapped her arms around him again, pulling them tightly together.  His
manhood was already swelling with anticipation, and Hyandai smiled up at
him as she felt it.

   "By the Spirits' grace, you humans are ready at a moment's notice." She
said, smiling appreciatively.  "I could not have chosen a better man to
betroth myself to."

   Harlen put his arms around her, as well, and leaned down, giving her a
long, deep kiss.  Her breathing was just as strained and short as his, and
he could feel her small hands moving over his rump as she pulled his
bulging organ into her pelvis.

   Harlen opened his eyes and looked over her head to the table.  With a
small effort, he lifted her from the floor with his enwrapping arms and
moved her back, sitting her upon the table.  She giggled at this, leaning
back and reaching for a plum out of the fruit bowl.

   "Do you remember our first day under the plum tree?" Hyandai asked,
looking up with just her eyes and giving him her best naughty expression.

   Harlen nodded smiling.  "It will forever be in my mind." He replied.

   She held the plump fruit over her breasts and squeezed, it ruptured,
spilling pulp and juice over her small, round tits, coating them with
sticky pieces of plum.

   Harlen grinned even more widely and lowered his head to her.  Taking one
breast into his mouth, he sucked gently at first, then more forcefully.

   Hyandai moaned in response, tilting her head back and letting herself
lie flat upon the table under him.

   His tongue explored the round lobe, then moved over the cleavage between
them, lapping up the sweet nectar from the plum.  The taste was divine, the
tangy sweetness of plum mixed with a heady dose of cinnamon spicing.  Her
fingers twined into his hair as his lips and tongue moved over her chest
and onto the other breast, circling that pink, hard nipple several times
before finally reaching it and sucking upon it while flicking his tongue
over the button at the tip.

   It took a good while for him to stop tasting plum upon her skin, and
only then did he raise his upper body back up and look into her eyes, they
were again bronze, rather than her normal golden.

   She held up another plum, and once again, squeezed it, this time over
her stomach.  Harlen leaned back to watch her as her hand progressed
downward, dripping great dollops of pulp and juice upon herself, down, and
over the folds of her entrance.  She lowered that hand and rubbed the fruit
itself upon her exposed clit and even around the thickening lips that
closed her slit.

   Harlen's eyes flashed eagerly as she pulled back that hand and began to
lick the juice from her fingers.  He dove down and began lapping at her
stomach gently, kissing and slurping the messy bits of fruit from her skin.
Her fingers once again crawled over his scalp, gently pulling his hair.

   He moved inexorably downward over the smooth skin of her belly, then
over the raised pubic mound.  Finally, his tongue arrived at her flavored
clitoris, and he sucked and lapped at it enthusiastically.

   Hyandai gasped and her fingers tightened in his hair, pulling almost
painfully.  Her moans became more pronounced as he flicked his tongue over
the clit between long slow movements over her entrance and over the lips
that surrounded it.  The taste of plum and cinnamon was driving him onward,
and his throbbing erection was a constant reminder of his own excitement.

   Before he tasted the last of the plum, Hyandai reached down with another
piece of fruit, a kiwi, and Harlen backed off slightly, and watched as she
squeezed the tart green juice over herself.  His excitement grew as she did
this, she then gripped the fruit and slowly, smashed the remainder of the
kiwi against her swollen labia and clitoris, reducing the meat of the kiwi
into a slimy mess.

   Hyandai, once again, brought her hand up to her mouth and began cleaning
it.  She also touched Harlen's cheek with her free hand, encouraging him.

   He needed little encouragement, and happily began lapping at her
clitoris and around it.  The tart of the kiwi added another layer of
delight to her taste, giving him a blissful mix of textures, flavors, and
responses from her as he cleaned the fruit off of her.

   Harlen lapped more enthusiastically and wrapped his fingers around her
buttocks and drove the tips of his digits into the crack of her ass.  One
finger pushed against her tight anus, it found the fruit juice to be quite
adequate lubrication and slid into her, causing her to inhale deeply as one
knuckle after another slid up her backside.

   He pushed forward with his intruding finger she gasped as he began
working it in and out slowly as he continued his ministrations to her clit
and opening.  She groaned as he pushed his finger deeply while she was
thrusting, attempting to push up into his mouth and back into the finger at
the same time.

   "Please take me." Hyandai said, touching his hair and pulling upward
gently.

   Rising from her he moved his lower body up to her, also pulling his
finger slowly from her rump.  The table was just the right height, and he
pressed his swollen cock against her lips.  Pushing gently, he slipped into
her, spreading her open as he entered her while her hands came down and
gripped his arms.

   She used her leverage against his braced arms to pull herself downward
upon his organ, forcing it deeper.  She looked up at him, and smiled almost
angelically.

   Harlen began thrusting into her, using more and more force with each few
strokes and pulling more earnestly with his hands upon her hips.  Soon, he
was pounding his cock into her tight opening with her matching each push
with a upward motion of her own hips.

   Long moments of this passed, with Harlen and Hyandai both growing more
frantic and louder.  Finally, Hyandai screamed out, arching her back and
tilting her head back as she lifted herself off the table and only touched
at his pelvis, her rump, upon the table, and the back of her head.

   She relaxed after a moment of this, gasping, and moving her hands over
Harlen's arms.

   Harlen's thrusts now became more insistent, then he grunted deep down in
his chest, his hips locking as he pushed into her one last time.  His cock
twitched as he shot his semen into her.  She tightened herself upon the
base of his pole, encouraging him to spill his seed freely.  "Give to me,
beloved." She said quietly, her eyes now glowing a bright green.  He pulled
back and sunk himself into her a few more times, loving the silky warmth
that engulfed him and the tight contractions she was forcing around his
shaft.

   He pulled his spent pole from her, it slid forth slowly and she clamped
down on it as he moved out.  She let out a deep sigh as he finally pulled
the still swollen head forth and her body fully relaxed.

   Harlen's face was a mask of pleasure for a moment, then it slowly
changed to one of confusion.  "Weren't you 'indisposed'?" He asked, finally
realizing what had been somewhat bothering him.

   "It has passed." Hyandai confirmed, and nodded.

   He helped Hyandai sit up, and he smiled.  "Then we have a few days
before we need to worry about you conceiving." He said.

   Hyandai blinked a couple of times.  "What?" She asked.

   "Aren't women more likely to become pregnant right before their, well,
monthlies?" Harlen asked.

   Hyandai looked at him, then giggled.  "Hardly." She said.  "I do not
know about human women's cycle, but elves are most fertile immediately
following their estrus."

   It was Harlen's turn to blink.  "As in . . .." He prompted.

   "Now." Hyandai supplied helpfully.

   She then broke into peals of giggling as he blinked a few more times. 
Slowly, a small grin moved his lips upward.

   "And you don't mind the risk?" Harlen asked.

   Hyandai sat up.  "What risk?" She asked in response.  "I have taken no
risk." She leaned up and kissed him.  "I am more than ready to bear your
child, if the Spirits deem it is time."

   "But doesn't that sort of get in the way of the year and a day?" He
asked, still rather startled.

   She shook her head.  "No." She responded easily.  "I am only insisting,
now, on the year and a day, because it is the way it is done." A broad
smile graced her lovely face.  "I would willingly wed you today, if it were
permissible."

   A flush of gladness suffused Harlen's features and she could see him
puffing up with pleasure.  This gladdened her greatly, that he desired her
equally as a lifelong mate.

   "I cannot wait for the year to end then." Harlen said, kissing her neck.


   She rose and dressed, though she seemed to not wish to.  It had been
sheer luck that Trevir had not come down from the guest room upstairs. 
Harlen also pulled up his pants and fastened his belt.

   They both looked guiltily at the doorway as they heard Trevir's voice
from upstairs.  "I'm not coming unless you two rabbits are done!"

   Harlen coughed quietly and looked sheepishly at Hyandai.  She tilted her
head slightly in consideration, then said.  "We are quite finished,
Trevir." She looked over at Harlen and shrugged.  "It is not like he did
not know, hmm?" She asked.

   Breaking down into a fit of laughter, Harlen agreed, nodding his head.
"You're right there." He said, finally, wiping his eyes.

   Trevir's face peered around the corner.  "I feel I should wash the whole
kitchen before eating anything in here." He said, mockingly, giving the
room a looking over before moving to get something to eat.

   As he moved to the cupboard to explore for foodstuffs to his liking,
Harlen surreptitiously handed Hyandai a hand towel.  She looked at him a
brief moment, in confusion, then caught the direction of his glance. 
Following this, she saw where fruit juice, pulp, and no little of her own
fluids.  Her eyes widened in panic, and she quickly cleaned it up with the
hand towel, concealing the incriminating cloth behind her back.

   They both then sidled from the kitchen and went into the common room as
Trevir turned and looked suspiciously at the table.

   --

   Most of the day passed slowly.  Hyandai sat a long while answering
Trevir's questions on elven society and customs from the book, confirming
some recorded facts from the text, and dismissing others.  Harlen listened
from within the workshop, absorbing quite a lot of what was said on the
various topics discussed.

   The latter half of the day, the couple spent, once again packing up
their traveling kits.  Harlen had crafted a new leather scabbard for the
<I>Ehladrel</I>.  It sat upon her back, where she could draw it over her
shoulder, rather than fumble under her own arm with both hands.

   "How did you get the size so perfect?" Hyandai asked.  Eyeing the snug
fit of the weapon into the scabbard.

   Harlen held up a wooden copy of the <I>Ehladrel</I>.  He had even
painted it dull gray with silvery highlights and wrapped the handle in an
excellent facsimile of the leather wrapping about the various gripping
points.

   Hyandai giggled at that.  "Not only can elves craft <I>Ehladrim</I>,
hmm?" She asked.

   With a nod, Harlen shoved the mock weapon into the old soft leather
cover, and slung it beneath his backpack.  "I'll give it to some elven lad,
to practice with." He said.

   A broad smile crossed Hyandai's face.  "It would make a wonderful gift
for an aspiring blade dancer." She said.  "What did you make it of?"

   "Lemon, a very hard wood." He answered.

   They finished out their kits and set them upon the workbench for quick
retrieval in the morning, should the weather break.

   --

   Harlen and Hyandai entered The Pierced Boar just after sunset.  The
place was just now becoming crowded.  Many huntsmen were in town tonight,
as it was late fall, and most of them began to prepare for winter's period
of reduced hunting, as well as most other activities.

   The year had been good to them, and most were quite ready for a long
winter's break from the routine of being alone for days on end.  As they
dined and drank together, there was a constant stream of other huntsmen
sitting with them for a few moments, exchanging greetings, desiring to meet
Harlen's lovely companion, and to discuss matters important to huntsmen. 
Tammer would occasionally interject his own thoughts about the matters at
hand, whether personal, romantic, or hunting.

   "So, you and Hyandai leave on the morrow?" Tammer asked, having
overheard them discussing their plans.

   Harlen nodded, sipping his ale.

   Hyandai smiled up at Tammer.  "We will return as quickly as we can." She
said happily.  "I think that I will be staying."

   A broad grin crossed Tammer's wrinkled face.  "That is glad news, Miss
Hyandai." He said.  "This town could use with some beautiful women about."
This last earned him a glower from one of the barmaids that was within
earshot.  Tammer winced visibly at the young woman's narrowed eyes.

   "If you need an escort." Tammer said.  "I can scrape together some lads
to accompany you to the border of the elven lands until you meet up with
Hyandai's folk." His aged face showed great concern for their safety.  He,
naturally, was fully abreast of the happenings surrounding the couple and
the <I>Ehladrel</I>.

   Harlen shook his head.  "We're planning a rather stealthy approach until
we come across people Hyandai knows will be friendly." He explained.

   Tammer clicked his tongue.  "Stealthy approaches to the elven lands may
not be a easy thing." He said.  "They're rather masterful at it
themselves."

   "I have something they don't suspect." Harlen said, grinning.

   "Oh?" Tammer asked, raising one eyebrow, a trick with which he was the
undisputed master.

   Harlen put an arm around Hyandai's shoulders.  "Not everyone who tries
to sneak into the elven lands has an elven princess to act as guide."

   Tammer chuckled at that.  "Indeed they don't."

   Hyandai coughed.  "I am no princess, beloved." She said quietly to
Harlen.  "I am a scribe." Her face tight with discomfort.

   "I'm sorry, angel." Harlen said.  "But I feel pride every time I think
of you being beside me."

   She smiled at him, patiently.  "I'm glad for that." She responded.  "But
please do not heap titles upon me.  I can just barely accept the `milady's'
and the `Miss'' people append to my name.  I need not be a princess, I am
happy being Harlen's betrothed." She kissed his cheek.

   They finished their ales and sat a while longer, listening to the
various yarns being spun by the other in town huntsmen about their near
miss great scores.  With each telling, Hyandai was sure, the wolf became
larger, fiercer, and faster, too.

   As they walked home, the rain having slackened to a slow drizzle. 
Hyandai was conspicuously aware of the weight of the <I>Ehladrel</I> upon
her back.

   "Harlen, even if the weather is poor tomorrow, I wish to leave." She
said.  "The <I>Ehladrel</I> is too much at risk here.  And it puts good
people at risk, as well."

   Putting his arm around her waist, Harlen nodded.  "I understand." He
finally said, after several paces were behind them on the road.

   The combination of good food and ale made both of them quite drowsy when
they laid in the bed.  Hyandai sighed as she looked up at the ceiling. 
"What would you be doing now, if not for me?" She asked.

   Harlen gave that a lot of thought, sitting in the one chair the room
accommodated.  "I would likely be at the Boar for another two hours, then I
would stumble home and fall into the bed." He finally replied.

   Giving him a long look, Hyandai asked.  "With a bar wench under your
arm?" She grinned slightly.

   "Probably not." Harlen said distantly.  "Believe it, or no, I never went
to bed with any women born in this village until Wendy."

   Hyandai clucked at that, a habit she seemed to have immediately after
being around Tammer for any amount of time.  "Why do you not like the women
of Morrovale?" She asked.  "They seem fine folk to me."

   Another long pause followed her question, and Harlen gave it serious
thought as he removed his boots.  "I think, maybe, I prefer to avoid
discomfort for them and myself, should the relationship not work out as
hoped."

   "You spend much time protecting yourself, or your heart, rather."
Hyandai said, eyeing him critically.

   "I don't with you." He replied, standing and removing his trousers and
tunic.

   He hung his sword belt upon the headboard post on `his' side of the bed,
the left side.

   Her lips turned up ever so slightly at the corners.  "Do you not?" She
asked.  "Have you not noticed that you have yet to ask me to stay with you?
You seem to always wait and make me simply tell you my desires in it."

   His expression became considering.  "I've never thought of that." He
said.  "I thought I was simply not pressuring you into making choices you
didn't wish to make just yet."

   She shrugged.  "It may be so, but it feels differently to me."

   A very long pause passed between them as Harlen thought back over the
last few weeks.  His mind ran through all the times they had discussed
their future together, and all the reactions he had to the discussions. 
Was he shielding himself against rejection?  He wondered.

   Hyandai finally relented and sat up.  She slid her legs off the bed and
stood before him.  "Kiss me, and think no more of it." She said, putting
her slender arms about his waist and ducking to slip under his arms.  "I am
yours now." She added, pressing her lithe body to his.

   With a small sense of relief, Harlen did as he was told.

   They tumbled onto the bed as Hyandai pulled him off balance and let him
land atop her, forcing the breath from her lungs.  She moaned as his weight
pressed her evenly over all her body.

   She could feel his flaccid organ on her thigh and reached one hand down
to stroke the side of the soft organ.

   Harlen sighed contentedly as her lips moved over his neck and he felt
her small, sharp teeth nibbling upon the cords of tendon that were tensed
there as he pulled his head back.

   His cock did not stay soft for long.  The combination of the strong
cinnamon scent coming from her fiery hair and the gentlest of touches from
her fingertips were brining his organ to life quite quickly.

   She smiled up at him.  "Indeed, I love your response to me." She said,
her fingers now touching his swelling rod.  "Are all humans so eager to
make love?" She asked as he kissed her neck.

   Harlen gave a curt nod.  "Pretty much, yes." He said.  "But, I'm better
at it."

   She giggled a little at his eager response.  "Good to know." Hyandai
said.  "I would hate to think I was not getting the finest I could."

   "You are." Harlen said, his eyes full of sincerity.  "Trust me."

   She slipped up the bed from him as he lifted his weight off of her to
move.  "Lie down, love of mine." She said.

   Harlen laid back his organ pointing up toward the ceiling.  Hyandai
moved closer to it upon her hands and knees, like a cat stalking prey.  She
kissed his thigh as she closed upon his swollen member.  That kiss sent a
jolt up Harlen's tensed spine, and a tingle straight to the root of his
cock.

   Her tiny tongue slid over the soft skin of his manhood, trailing a thin
glistening layer behind it.  His cock twitched under her tongue as she
moved over the head and flicked it around the base of the mushroom-like
head.

   A loud groan escaped Harlen's lips as she engulfed the head with her
soft lips, then pushed downward.  Soon, most of his manhood was pressing
into her mouth and she pulled back.  Finding a good depth where comfort for
her and pleasure for him met, she began to move her head up and down upon
the shaft quickly.  Kneading his balls gently with one hand and marking her
preferred depth into her throat with the other.

   Under her intense stimulation: Her tongue slipping over the ridge under
the head, her suction, and her fast and eager motions, Harlen did not take
long to spend.  His hips bucked upward, and Hyandai moaned as her mouth
filled with his seed.  A few moments later, she lifted her mouth from his
organ, swallowing as she looked up.

   A rather suppressed part of Harlen's own sexuality jumped at the sight
of her openly and boldly making a show of swallowing his semen.  When a
small dribble of it ran from the corner of her mouth, he caught it with his
fingertip.  Hyandai looked at the finger and the errant semen upon it.  She
quickly and with apparent relish sucked the finger into her mouth, licking
the tip free of the spend upon it.

   Her playfulness in the bedroom was becoming more and more intense and
more easily arrived at.

   "Are you letting your fey loose more often with me?" Harlen asked.

   Hyandai nodded, smiling.  "I just hope, when it completely comes forth
upon a time, it does not upset you." She said.

   He chuckled.  "I doubt that will happen." Harlen said.

   Hyandai kissed his neck.  "I hope not." She quietly murmured into his
neck.  "For it will do so, one day."

   "I thought you found the taste rather lacking?" Harlen inquired.

   She nodded.  "Normally, yes." She said.  "But my fey has differing
tastes." An odd look overcame Hyandai, a predatory look, nearly.  Her eyes
flashed deeper green, almost hunter green to her normal emerald.  "I could
drink a mug of it." She said, her voice rather husky and almost a half
octave deeper.  Then, visibly, she gave her head a quick shake and her
normal eye color returned.  "As I say, my fey and I are not always in full
agreement." Hyandai finally said, grinning embarrassedly.

   Harlen pondered the implications of Hyandai letting loose an almost
completely differing personality upon him.  "Does your fey love me?" He
asked.

   Hyandai blinked a moment at that.  "You wish to ask her?" Hyandai
replied.  "I cannot know for certain, it does not work that way with me, it
is almost as if it were another person."

   "I think I shall wait to discover that secret." Harlen said.

   Hyandai giggled.  "I can safely say that she desires you." She said,
nuzzling into the crook of Harlen's arm.

   "Wouldn't a lust fey desire pretty much everyone?" Harlen goaded.

   Kissing his cheek, Hyandai said.  "Yes." And laid back down.  "At least
those who are sexually desirable."

   "What determines that?" He asked.

   She kissed his shoulder, and again nuzzled into him, a smile playing on
her lips.  "A pulse." She said, finally.

   Harlen smiled down at his lovely partner, and, if her words be true,
future wife.  "I love you." He said.

   She blinked at him once.  "And I love you, Harlen." She replied.  She
laid beside him as the candle lighting the room burned down, then winked
out.  He never saw the tears that welled in her emerald eyes that were
unobtrusively wiped away.

   --

   The next day was better for traveling than the previous, barely.  The
clouds still loomed large overhead, but only dispensed an intermittent
drizzle upon the village.  Harlen and Hyandai both set out under the
glowering sky.

   But first, they had to bid their farewell to Harlen's grandmother.

   Gramma fussed over the two of them setting out under such miserable
conditions.  "I don't see why you can't wait for better weather." She said,
glowering out the windows of her tiny kitchen at the intermittent light
rain.

   "The people who attacked us two nights ago seek one thing, and that
thing is not me, Maggie." Hyandai explained.  "The sooner the
<I>Ehladrel</I> is removed from my life and care, the sooner I can live
more normally again."

   Maggie nodded.  "I understand that." She said.  "But this weather bodes
ill for the trip from the very beginning."

   "We're hoping that the people pursuing the <I>Ehladrel</I> will likewise
be thwarted by the bad weather." Harlen supplied.

   "You'll out clever yourself one day, Harlen." Maggie said, chuckling. 
"I can tell you two headstrong kids are bent on this path.  Do me a favor
though."

   Hyandai smiled gently.  "Anything, of course." She said.

   Gramma brought a small box that she had been holding in her lap, and
slid it onto the table.  It was made of thin wood planks, obviously local
manufacture, when Hyandai slid it before her; she realized it was not
secured.  She opened it.

   Inside was the spirit mask that had decorated Maggie's mantle for many
years.  Hyandai inhaled sharply, then looked at the wizened lady curiously.

   "Take it home.  Find out who it belonged to, or is, or whatever they
mean.  Give the spirit that made it or needed it what it sought." Maggie
said.  "I can't bear knowing it may represent someone's unfinished
business."

   Hyandai nodded.  "I will do so." She said, slipping the box into her
pack.  Her face was very solemn.  She had forgotten totally about the mask.
They did represent something akin to exactly what Maggie was thinking, but
Hyandai had not even given it that deep a thought, she was shamed by the
old woman's sensitivity to her culture and briefly wondered if maybe the
elderly human loved elves more than Hyandai did.

   It would not be hard at this point.  Of the last several days, it had
been elves causing most of her woes and hurts.  Humans had been nothing but
helpful and kind to her.  This thought made her long for the comfort of her
father, and her brother and sister.  Elves she could place her trust in.

   Maggie forced them to carry another two days worth of foodstuffs by
stuffing half a wheel of cheese in Harlen's pack and two ceramic jars of
preserved peaches into Hyandai's.  Harlen bent and kissed his aged
grandmother on the cheek.

   "We will be back soon." He said.  "Keep an eye out for Trevir, please."

   "Why?" Gramma asked.  "He planning on stealing more peaches from my
trees?" Then she chuckled.  "I will watch out for him, as I can, and you
know old Tammer will, too."

   Harlen nodded, then walked outside the front door, watching the drizzle
and waiting for Hyandai.

   The young elf stood before the elderly human.  "Milady Maggie," Hyandai
said, "I want to thank you for accepting me, and for helping make Harlen
the man he is."

   Both of them by consensus glanced toward the night orb.  Maggie walked
to it and picked it up.  She brought it over to Hyandai and held it out. 
Almost, Hyandai took it from her, then checked her hand's motion.

   "No." Hyandai said.  "After we return." She withdrew her hand.

   Gramma nodded and hugged Hyandai to her with more power than the elf
would have thought she could muster.  She returned the embrace, then
straightened up and kissed Maggie's cheek and followed her betrothed into
the mist.

   Maggie watched them leave, and went back to the mantle, replacing the
night orb.  She looked over her little collection of elven trinkets and
artifacts; the flute, the chalice, and the night orb.  She looked at the
spot that the little trade box had rested.  She had stuffed that into
Harlen's pack when he was not paying attention.  She knew he would need it
ere he returned.  Something told her so.

   The two traveled quietly, though Hyandai continued Harlen's education in
the language of the elves.  He had already learned many nouns, common words
for many things, and she giggled to hear him calling things out by name as
they walked past them, even if he got the gender off, he would have been
understood by any elf that listened.

   She began to work on his verbs and even, somewhat, upon adjectives.  It
was a very few hours before he could tell her, in her own tongue, that she
was very pretty, and that she had very appealing hammer.  A girl cannot
have everything overnight, she decided.

   The day was miserable, but they found themselves surprisingly happy
through the walk, even as the slow drizzle soaked their clothes and the
cold chilled them to the point their hands were a bit numb.

   They came, at last, to Markam's Ford.  This was where a village had once
stood, almost directly upon the Windir border with the Western Realms.  It
used to be a trading community, and was part of the duchy.  However, it had
been razed years ago by another, neighboring realm and never rebuilt, as
Morrovale was not far away and offered much greater protection from
raiders.

   Harlen peered from the ruins of the old church in the center of Markam's
Ford at the dense tree line south and west of the village ruins.  Nothing
could be seen to move.

   The forest he was looking at was little like the woods he hunted daily.
It was more densely treed, for one, and the trees were larger.  The overall
effect was a solid wall of vibrant green, marked here and there by leaves
turning yellow, red, brown, and orange.  He slid his spyglass out of his
pack and looked toward the trees, still nothing to be seen moving.

   Not that he expected to see anything.  The elves did not announce their
presence at the border.  He was certain the lack of sighting of them meant
exactly that they were there.

   "They do patrol the border, don't they?" Harlen asked Hyandai as she
peered through the glass.

   She nodded silently, and peered another moment.  "There is one." She
said, at last, handing him the glass and aiming it at a patch of darkness
among the trees.

   Harlen had to look a long moment, before he saw a solitary elf; wearing
a cloak similar to the ones they wore beneath their oilskins.  The elf was
peering out of the woods, scanning the clear land that rose from the river
to the trees.  He had a bow in one hand and a sword, similar to Hyandai's,
upon his belt.

   "Do you think he's seen us?" Harlen asked her.

   Hyandai shook her head.  "No." She replied, in case he had not seen her.
"Had he, we would not be seeing him.  He is being incautious, confident
that he is simply performing a routine patrol."

   The elf moved away from the dark hole in the canopy and was once again
gone.

   The sky was growing quite dim, with the dense cloud cover and waning
light as the sun set behind the obscuring clouds.

   "It will behoove us to wait until nightfall." Hyandai said.  "Even
darkvision is not as good as normal sight, especially at distance.  Once we
cross in, and get a few miles into the wood, we should be fairly safe from
patrols, as the borders are the main areas that are actually patrolled.

   They found a reasonable amount of shelter under the sagging roof of an
old storage shed that had not been burned to the ground.  Both of them laid
out and rested, even napping by turns, so that they would have as much
energy as possible after full dark.

   Hyandai gave Harlen a sour smile.  "The irony." She said.  "I have to
sneak back into my own homelands, to return something I was sent to
acquire." She shook her head, the wet ringlets of her red hair dimmed to
maroon in the failing light.

   "Only to avoid those who betray your people." Harlen said.  "It is only
that we do not know who they are, upon sight, that we cannot find elves we
can trust easily.  That's why treason is such a heinous crime."

   Hyandai nodded and laid back upon the wall behind her.  "I wish it were
not so." She said.  "You deserve to be welcomed to my lands as a hero to
the elves."

   "Even more so to you." Harlen replied, leaning forward and kissing
Hyandai's ear.

   --

   Hyandai woke Harlen after he had a short nap.  "It is time to move." She
said.

   Harlen nodded and yawned.  "Okay." He agreed.  Then rubbed his eyes. 
"What time is it?"

   She shrugged.  "Nearing midnight, I should think." She replied.  "I
forgot to pack Tammer's water-clock." She spoke of the five hundred pound
mechanical monstrosity that some gnome had managed to talk Tammer into
buying, and which filled about an eighth of the Pierced Boar's common room.

   A deep chuckle from Harlen rewarded her dry humor.  "I'll have to
remember that." He said.

   They hoisted their gear and were pleasantly surprised to see clear skies
outside the little shed.  They folded their oilskin ponchos and looked
about, toward the woods.  It was now very cold out, as the blanket of
clouds was now gone, and no longer held in the day's warmth.

   "It will be warmer once we reach the wood." Hyandai assured Harlen as he
blew into his hands to warm them.

   Harlen gave her a curious look.  "Magic?" He asked.

   "No." Hyandai said as they started walking toward the black tree line,
barely visible in the moonless night.  "But the trees hold in a bit of the
warmth of day, as the clouds did."

   They walked on in silence, as they reached the river, both of them
dreaded this part.  Removing their clothes up to their waists, they waded
into the water.  It was icy cold, but mercifully not a long walk.  Hyandai
actually had to suppress a giggle upon seeing Harlen's much shriveled
manhood when they emerged.  They both quickly dried off and put their
clothes on.  The woods now laid only a couple of hundred yards away.

   Using small shrubs as cover they slipped quietly over the border into
Windir.  Harlen realized that he was now walking in elven lands.  Two
months ago, the thought would have thrilled and terrified him.  Now it
simply terrified him.

   He expected at any moment a small squad of elven rangers to leap from
behind trees and shrubs and confront them with bows drawn taut.

   This did not happen.  Even though Hyandai feared pretty much the same
thing.

   They did their best to make good time through the first miles of the
wood, moving as quickly as they could and still maintain some semblance of
quiet.  It was, Harlen decided, noticeably warmer under the canopy of
massive trees.

   He did not recognize a good half of the trunks they passed as they moved
over the soft ground and around the occasional bramble.

   After an hour of this pace, they stopped to rest amid the massive roots
of a tree that must have been several hundreds of feet tall.  Hyandai was
oddly at peace in her eyes and the set of her face.

   "Good to be home?" Harlen whispered.

   Hyandai nodded.  "But also, it feels different." She replied, in an
equally quiet tone.  "I think, in reality, your land and house are my home,
now."

   Harlen could barely make any motion out, even with her sitting right
near him.  She had been guiding him through the wood, and now he knew,
somewhat of what a blind man felt as he moved about.

   "I think we should wait for daybreak here, then move on." Hyandai said.
"We've passed the outer pickets now, and should be fairly safe if we are
cautious."

   "How far to your village?" Harlen asked.

   Hyandai thought a second.  "A day and a half." She answered.  "If we are
not forced to detour."

   They dug out their blankets, and that was when Harlen found the little
trade box from his grandmother's collection of elven artifacts.

   "Did you know of her putting this into my pack?" Harlen asked, holding
out the Windy Islander box.

   Hyandai shook her head.  "I only knew of the soul mask she bade me bring
to discover its purpose." She replied, her eyes wide.

   Harlen opened the little box, and lying within, nested on a bed of soft
cloth were two rings of brightly shining silver.  They were so shiny, in
fact, that they were clearly visible in the darkness as two glimmering
shapes.

   "Spirits!" Hyandai gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

   Harlen looked at her, but he did not need to ask why she was rather
shocked to see them.  They were obvious to him, even, for there were more
than children's games shared by elven and human folk.  Such things as
wedding rings.

   Hyandai reached out a somewhat shaky hand and picked up the smaller
ring. She looked closely at it.  "It seems your Gramma rather liked to play
little games of hide the apple." She said.  "When I examined her
collection, I never thought to open the box."

   The ring was silver, but not only.  It was an alloy of silver and
mithril, and that mithril was the source of the luminescence.  They were
simple bands, but faceted with small angular cuts of the metal, causing
them to glint and sparkle in any light, even starlight filtering through
trees.

   Harlen kissed her cheek.  "I think Gramma was trying to rush things
along." He said.  "Do not feel rushed."

   Hyandai looked at the ring for a long moment, her eyes filling with
unseen tears.  "I do not." She said.  "I feel like I'm being held back.  I
know we have not been with one another but for a few weeks, my love, but I
know I am done looking for others to love, as well." She put the ring back
into the little box.  "If not you, then no one." She finally said, her
voice sounding resolute.

   Harlen had not idly spent the day learning random phrases of elven, he
had a plan to his seeming randomness.  "<I>Amin melle lle, amin vanima
Hyandai.</I>" He said - `I love you, my beautiful Hyandai.'

   She squeaked a small sound that Harlen had not heard her make before and
then he felt his neck being crushed by both her arms as she embraced him
fiercely and peppered his cheeks, lips and forehead with little kisses. 
"Amin melle lle, amin aglare Harlen." She replied - `I love you, my
glorious Harlen.' "Ten'oio lle corm amin" - `Forever my heart is yours.'

   They put the box away, but now, though the thoughts that it had brought
out in their minds were kindled and seemed to be unstoppable.

   --

   The dawn found them entwined with one another under the blanket, still
lying upon the oilskin poncho they had laid to keep the wet ground soaking
the lower pad.  Harlen blinked at the sudden light as the sun smote his
eyes through a break in the canopy.  Hyandai gave out a small sigh and then
blinked her eyes open as well, smiling brightly.

   "<I>Good morning my love.</I>" Hyandai said, in elven.

   Harlen grinned at her.  "<I>And to you, beloved of my blood pump.</I>"
He replied, also in elven.

   Hyandai had to admit, his elven was growing better fast, at least he had
not named her an implement for pounding nails.  She giggled a little
though. "That form of heart is for the actual organ in your chest,
beloved." She explained.  "Corm means the heart that feels." She walked up
to him as he folded the blanket.  "But I am glad your physical heart loves
me, as well." She finally said, kissing him.

   The advantage of him learning more and more elven was obvious.  Now, if
they were somehow overheard talking to one another, the hearer would not
automatically know it was a human speaking.  They spoke on it, and decided
any time they spoke in Westron, it would be at a whisper, but they would
speak freely in elven.

   They set out, again south and west, and had not traveled more than a
couple of miles before they had to stop.  Ahead was an encampment of elves,
over a hundred of them.  They skirted the encampment and maintained quiet
while doing so.  Hyandai was most discomfited while they were near to the
small town of tents.  After another mile, they felt freer to speak.

   "Why did that encampment frighten you so?" Harlen asked.

   Hyandai gave him a long, still somewhat fearful, look.  "It is not our
normal way to camp in large groups like that." She replied, pausing a few
seconds.  "Save during war."

   His feet stopped moving for a long moment, then he followed her again.
"Those were the enemy?" He asked.

   "Yes, I fear they were." Hyandai replied, her eyes still darting over
her shoulder and into the woods.  "I cannot think of another reason for the
encampment this far from any settlement and in those numbers." Her eyes
once again grew panicked.  "They mean to attack my village.  Or yours."

   "A hundred or so against over two thousands?" Harlen said.  "Are elven
warriors really that good?"

   Hyandai shook her head.  "No." She answered.  "But they may mean to make
a raid onto some important target then withdraw.  But I am more certain
that they mean to take Embalis, my home village."

   "Why would they do that?" Harlen asked, disbelieving.

   "Embalis is the only elven town this close to your lands." Hyandai said.
"It would effectively cut off the loyalists from the humans in that
direction.  They would be enforcing isolationism with or without Royal
consent."

   "There are other realms that can be reached in other areas, surely."
Harlen said.

   "Yes, but Morrovale has long held a position of being considered elf
friendly." Hyandai said.  "It would be a morale blow to the loyalists to
have that potential ally cut off." She shrugged.  "Some of the other human
communities along the border are apathetic to elven causes, or even
somewhat hostile, and others change their stance as they change nobility.
But, for some reason, Morrovale has always been friendly, without fail, for
as long as there has been a Morrovale."

   Harlen blinked at that.  This was new news to him.  "Then why did you
withdraw contact from us?"

   "We had pressing matters with Ghant and the Windy Isles." Hyandai said.
"Ghant attacking us and the isles, and us helping the isles weather those
attacks that fell upon them.  When we are forced to war, it takes most of
our resources to even stay on a level footing with humans who wage war upon
us.  The Windy Islanders helped much, but only insofar as they could."

   "It was no conscious effort on our part to stop parleying and trading
with your people, Harlen." She said.  "There were simply not enough people,
nor the luxury to travel northward.  Only now have the Ghantians withdrawn
and left us the leisure to move in other directions again.  But that same
war has led many of my folk to adopt a stricter isolationism policy, even a
militant one."

   She glowered back toward the encampment.  "The loyalists to the king
believe that isolationism is not a path that will lead to our benefit." She
said.  "Humans tend to destroy what they do not understand or that which
they distrust.  Isolating ourselves from them will lead to both."

   "Can your village defeat the enemy army?" Harlen asked.

   Hyandai shrugged.  "If that hundred was all of them, then yes." She
said. "But I feel safe assuming there are more out there, perhaps entire
other camps, scattered around Embalis, like this, one day's walk away. 
That's far enough to avoid casual discovery, but near enough to coordinate
an attack."

   "You certainly don't sound like a scribe when you talk like that."
Harlen said, leaning over to kiss her neck.

   She giggled.  "I've transcribed many a text on strategy and tactics, and
works that outline the various thoughts on elven and human interaction."
She explained.  "I suppose some of it sticks to one's mind."

   Harlen grinned.  "I suspect my betrothed is smarter than I." He said.

   With a quick motion, Hyandai kissed him.  "Not smarter, just a lot
older." She replied.  "Remember, I have had almost forty years to learn
things."

   Harlen had given that little thought, and now it struck him in the mind
like a crossbow bolt.  "Forty years." He said quietly.  "How can you see me
as anything but a child?"

   An odd look overcame Hyandai's features.  "Well, for one, children
rarely throw me onto tables and take me so thoroughly that I nearly faint."
She said.  "Another thing is that elves do not worry on ages much, as we
are long lived enough that small distinctions do not matter so pointedly."

   "How many languages do you speak?" Harlen asked.

   Hyandai thought a moment.  "Twelve, and seven dialects off of those."
She replied, giving him a worried look.  "Do not start thinking less of
yourself, Harlen.  That path leads to no good thing."

   Harlen turned his lopsided smile toward her.  "Hmm?" He said.  "You're
afraid I will think less of myself because you are even more wondrous every
time I think of you?  No, Hyandai, I think myself extremely fortunate to
have appealed to you, but I do not think less of myself."

   The worry left her eyes and she hugged him.  "Good." She said.  "For you
are wondrous yourself." Again, the rather lustful expression crossed her
face, fleetingly.  "You certainly do things to me no elf could." It was
gone just as quickly, replaced by her normal, pleased expression.

   Harlen chuckled.  "I will have to have a conversation with her one day."
He said, regarding Hyandai as she began picking her way through the trees.

   The forest was as he thought it would be, but more so.  The tree they
were just resting amid the roots of stretched upward and into a nearly
impenetrable canopy above.

   "<I>Is this an Ornthalion?</I>" Harlen asked, craning his neck to look
upward at the twenty-foot diameter trunk as it shot upward.

   Hyandai nodded.  "<I>It is an Ornthalion.</I>" She said, speaking elven
once again.  "<I>They form much of the basis of elven life.</I>"

   Harlen whistled at the immensity of the tree, then looked about them for
others.  He spied a couple, at a goodly distance.  Most of the rest of the
trees were more normal types, oaks, elms, even spruce and pines.  The
ground was covered in a thick layer of fallen leaves that made the step
springy as one walked over it.  In the distance, Harlen could hear birds
calling and even the occasional animal screech of land bound creatures as
well.  Sunlight was very subdued here, with only a few spikes of the golden
rays penetrating through the canopy and landing on the ground.

   Patiently watching him, Hyandai smiled to see his wide eyes as he took
in her homeland.  It was important to her for him to accept this place, for
it was part of her.  He seemed fascinated, and that pleased her greatly.

   "It seems like my wood, but larger and thicker." Harlen finally said.

   Hyandai nodded.  "But there are other differences, which you will
probably see some of before we arrive in Embalis." She replied.

   Taking her hand, Harlen began to walk alongside Hyandai through the
woods.  They conversed some, and as much in elven as Harlen's limited
knowledge allowed.  Hyandai was proud of his progress so far.  Either
Harlen was an excellent linguist, or he wished to learn elven very badly.

   She smiled, feeling that she had cause to be pleased, in either case.

   ********** Author's Notes **********

   I would like to thank all the readers of The Solitary Arrow for their
ongoing commentary and criticism regarding this work.  I am constantly
striving to better the quality of this tale and welcome all constructive
criticism, suggestions, and corrections.  (EDIT 1.0)