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 The Solitary Arrow by Mack the Knife

   Part Seventeen

   Hyandai guided Harlen through the woods, leading him around features she
knew to be somewhat treacherous.  There was little in the Windir forest
that would offer direct threat to a fully-grown human man, or even an elven
woman.  But that did not mean there was no reason for caution.  There were
places of spiritual power and locations where other fey creatures lived. 
Mischievous beings that would trick and betray Harlen, and some, even,
Hyandai.

   Deep under the canopy provided by the massive ornthalion trees, they
moved quietly, disturbing the land as little as may be.  Hyandai cautioned
against leaving more mark of their passage than necessary, as there would
be rangers about, forest wise elven men who, like Harlen did in Morrovale,
patrolled these woods, seeking game and watching out for interlopers.

   Most rangers were loyal to the crown and the people of the Windir, but
there may be some who were subverted.  A ranger, in his own wood, was not
something to be trifled with, she warned.

   Harlen was amazed at how close many of the local animals would allow
them to come before they fled from the couple.  They would watch warily, it
is true, up until a person would walk near enough to touch them.  Only then
would the animals unhurriedly move away, stepping just far enough to be out
of easy reach.  Hyandai assured him that they would eat from one's hand, if
one had food to offer that appealed to them.

   "Why do they not fear us?" Harlen asked quietly as they stood not four
paces from a doe and her foal.

   Hyandai looked at him.  "We hunt very little, beloved." She said.  "They
have not evolved to fear us.  In your lands, they have many times been
hunted to the verge of being wiped out.  Only the ones who feared man
instinctively survived.  Today, all that live are descendants of those that
lived, and were afraid."

   Harlen considered this for a while, and understood her point, but people
had to hunt, he figured.  "They would not live long outside Windir, would
they?" He asked.

   She shook her head.  "They do not know to avoid man." She said.

   They walked on a ways, breaking for a quick lunch after several hours of
travel.  It was hard for Harlen to gauge their progress, as he knew none of
the landmarks, and it was hard to judge speed in this world of oversized
trees and little direct sun.  It was beautiful, however, in a majestic and
mysterious way.  Almost like the cathedrals to the One he had heard tales
of in the great cities.  This was a cathedral to the One, he realized,
simply a temple the One had allowed to construct itself, with the help of
the firstborn.

   "We are nearly halfway there, we will be able to arrive come the
morning." Hyandai assured him, using her own memory of landmarks in the
woods around them.  Harlen noted her newfound confidence of stride.  They
were in her lands now, and she knew them as Harlen had known Morrovale.

   She graced him with a broad smile.  "There is a place we can camp
tonight, in relative safety." She said.  "It is my turn to provide the
shelter.  I often went there as a child, and it always seemed safe and I
was never discovered by others."

   Harlen nodded.  "Sounds like a good spot, this close to Embalis, there
may be patrols from the town itself to contend with." He said.  "Especially
if they suspect trouble is brooding."

   A look of worry and deep thought crossed Hyandai's face as they
continued walking.  "I fear for my people, Harlen." She said.  "The
Ehladrel will not help that much in a fight of armies."

   He commiserated with her, stroking her long auburn hair.  "I fear for
them, as well, angel." He said softly.

   The walk continued in silence, the two of them lost in their individual
thoughts.

   Hyandai's mind was consumed with the worry, and fear that her people
would be slaughtered by the traitors and her whole culture doomed to being
extinguished.

   Harlen, as is humanity's wont, was trying to think of ways to avoid
those fates.  This, more than fecundity or viciousness was the human
advantage in situations of competition, be it a race, a game of poker, or a
war.

   "The Windy Islanders are occupied?" He asked, breaking the hours of
silence.

   She had to think for a few heartbeats as she digested his question. 
"Yes." She finally said.  "They are still trying to mop up rogue Ghantian
regiments and individuals who continue to harass their towns and outlying
farmsteads.  Besides, we fear bringing men into the deep wood to do battle,
those who are untrained in such environs.  They would be cut down like
wheat."

   Harlen nodded, still following Hyandai's back through the rolling
terrain of the woodland's floor.

   Harlen suddenly realized he was hearing water splashing.  A waterfall,
he thought.  As he noted they were entering a clearing.  It was like a
larger-scale version of the grotto in Morrovale.  Or, perhaps, the grotto
was a miniature replica of this spot.  It was wide and deep, and the trees
held back from encroaching upon the shoreline of the little lake.  On one
side, a large waterfall fell over a sharp formation of rocks, tumbling down
and spreading mist at the base of the column of flowing water.  The water
was unbelievably clear, and the scent of the entire glade was of orchids. A
rainbow formed in the mist, spreading wide over the glade and fading toward
the edges with the mist.

   As Harlen blinked at the sheer beauty of the scene and the assault of
lovely scent upon his nose, Hyandai grabbed his shoulder and pushed him
down.  They were now crouching behind a thick bush, with white flowers
covering its surface.  Peering over the edge of the bush, Hyandai smiled
like a child, pointing with her thumb, then looking back over.

   Harlen joined her in peering over the edge of the bush.  Near the
waterfall, just emerging from it, apparently, was a woman.  She looked
human, tall and lean, with long, powerful legs and strong-looking arms. 
She was fully nude, her lithe body gleaming with refracting beads of water.
She moved with the grace of a skilled dancer, or warrior, or both.  The
only thing that made him know she was not a human was her hair.  It was
thick and wavy; a massive mane of hair, and it was green.  However, it was
not all green, parts of it were turning brown and red, and parts yellow and
orange.

   She walked along the bank of the little lake for some feet before
turning and walking toward the trees, then disappearing into the foliage.

   "What was that?" Harlen asked, his voice a whisper.

   Hyandai giggled.  "A nymph." She said.  "Another fey of the wood."

   "Are all fey so beautiful as you and she?" Harlen asked, peering back
over, in case the nymph returned.

   Hyandai stood up.  "I'm afraid not." She said.  "As a matter of fact,
some are quite repulsive."

   A low chuckle emitted from Harlen's chest.  "I see." He said.

   Onward they traveled, time seemed to have little meaning as they went
on. The sun changed position, but without any real indicator of its present
location and where it was an hour ago, it did not register as important.

   "I see now why people say time does not pass in elven lands." Harlen
commented idly, looking up at the few tiny pinpricks of sunlight piercing
the canopy overhead.  "If it does, it does so in hiding."

   Hyandai took his hand.  "Fret not, lover, we are in lands now that I
know well." She said.  "Or well enough."

   The light was once again fading when Hyandai walked them up to an
Ornathalion tree.  She moved about the base, seeking something, until she
found it.  There was a soft, wooden click and a door opened into the tree.

   She grinned back at his rather startled expression.  "Come." She said,
ducking into the doorway and entering the tree's trunk.

   Harlen had to duck but could stand upright inside.  It was a small
chamber, only two paces wide and one deep.  A narrow tunnel led from the
left wall into the tree, like huge termites had bored into it.

   Hyandai carefully closed the door and said.  "Use your calyondo,
beloved."

   Digging for a moment, Harlen produced the calyondo and held it before
him.  She crawled into the tunnel and he followed.  He could not at all
complain of the view for this portion of their trek, he thought while
looking ahead.  Hyandai seemed to now never wear a loincloth, and the view
was quite, frankly, stimulating, if he had to say so.

   After what seemed like a long while of steady crawling, and moving
upward, they emerged onto a platform that was very high up in the trees. 
Harlen looked over the edge, stretching muscles unused to such crawling. 
He saw nothing but darkening woods and mist.

   "How high are we?" He asked.

   Hyandai peered over the side.  "About two hundred paces." She said.  "As
near as I could ever tell, I never measured it."

   "What is it?" He asked, looking around the platform, which seemed to go
all the way around the tree at this level.

   She shrugged.  "I know not, perhaps a disused watch post." She said. 
"But I have never found others here.  We should be safe here for the
night."

   Harlen pocketed the light orb and sat upon the wooden deck of the
platform.  "Tell me about your father." Harlen asked, maintaining his
random thought patterns.

   Hyandai sat opposite him, cross-legged and leaned her elbows onto her
knees and her chin onto her hands.

   "He is a strong elf." She said.  "And a good man.  He is a smith, as
I've told you, and makes many a useful items for the clan and the village."
Her eyes were growing misty with time's passage as she spoke.  "He was the
head of the clan for a short while, before my mother's death.  You see, we
elves are matrilineal, though we usually have male rulers."

   "When an elven man marries an elven woman, he takes on her position.  As
my mother was the senior woman in the clan, she was the matriarch, when my
father married her, he became the patriarch." She explained further.  "He
headed the clan.  But, when the woman that ties a man to his position dies,
he loses it."

   Harlen nodded.  "What is he like?" He probed.  He had never known his
mother or father, so this was very interesting to him.

   "As I said, strong and good." She repeated.  "But also stern and
stubborn, at turns." Her eyes were now glittering.  "I remember him trying
to make me quit carrying my mother's hyandai all the time and me being just
as stubborn and headstrong as he was."

   She was smiling a wide toothy grin.  "I have told you, I am considered
plain by elven folk, if for my golden eyes alone." She said.  "One boy who
had been sent by his parents to visit me said something about it, in a most
discourteous tone.  I thought my father would flatten him like a sheet of
steel.  He grabbed the rascal by his collar and bodily hauled him out the
door, and to the edge of the platform, and dangled him over it, saying:
`More civility next time you have the honor of speaking to my daughter,
else you may become my first experiment in the effects of gravity upon a
piece of dung'." She paused a long moment.  "He was my hero, and still is,
I suppose, though now I have another, as well."

   She moved her slender hand onto Harlen's her tiny fingers like a child's
next to his thick digits.  "You reminded me of him when we first met, from
your smell of hard work." She said.  "And while certain of our activities
have disabused me of that assessment, others have reinforced it."

   "Will he like me?" Harlen asked.  "Or, more importantly, approve of me,
and you." His eyes held some measure of concern for this matter.

   Hyandai shrugged.  "I know not, these days." She said.  "It is a dark
time, Harlen, you must bear that in mind.  We face foes from the south,
powerful ones.  And now, from within as well.  We elves do not face war as
humans do, the very act of making it, even without a single death, is
anathema to us.  It is not our way."

   Harlen turned his hand over under hers and clasped her fingers, gently,
but firmly.  "It makes you beautiful." He said.

   "It makes us weak." Hyandai said, nearly spitting the words.  Her
expression had changed to one of disdain.  "We avoid fights, we appease,
and we parley.  What we do not do, however, is win.  In each transaction we
loose something, a part of ourselves.  Soon, we will have nothing to give,
except our lives.  Which, by then, will be meaningless."

   "You believe pacifism won't work?" Harlen asked.

   She smiled bitterly.  "Why else was I, untrained in such things, seeking
the Ehladrel?" She murmured.  "Pacifism won't work, we have tried it for
over two thousand years.  Oh, certainly, some humans and others will abide
by a non-aggression agreement, but just as often, as soon as it is
convenient, or inconvenient, they push again, or openly attack."

   Harlen nodded to that, but said nothing, simply stroked her shoulder and
hair.

   Hyandai smiled at him.  "I doubt you wish to speak of my people's
politics." She said.  "It is something that will either happen or no
without you or I taking part in it."

   "Your concerns are my concerns." Harlen said gently.  "If it bothers
you, you should talk about it, though I am not very conversant in the
matter."

   "Another time, then." Hyandai replied.  "I have other matters of import
on my mind."

   She reached up and stroked his stubbly cheek and kissed him.  "We are in
my lands now, Harlen." She said, once again speaking elven.  "Let us enjoy
one another this night as folk of the wood."

   He only understood about two-thirds of what she said, but it was enough
to deduce the rest.

   Returning her kiss, he began to disrobe her, untying the knots that held
her tunic covering her shoulders and breasts.  It came free and he sat it
upon the platform before bringing his hand back to palm the soft curve of
her breast.

   The nipple hardened almost instantly and she sighed as he squeezed the
soft flesh.  She ended the kiss and started kissing his neck and ear while
he continued kneading first one then the other mound.

   Hyandai turned to face him again, but this time opening her legs to
straddle his as she pressed to him, her legs folded at the knee beneath her
and he propped against the tree's massive trunk.  He leaned forward from
the trunk while she lifted his tunic off his upper body and ran her cool
hands over his chest and arms, enjoying the feel of muscles under her
fingertips while biting and kissing his neck and shoulders.  Her hair
tickled his chin as she moved from one side to the other, and then back.

   His own hands did not remain idle, though, and he had untied her skirt
and laid it atop her short top.  Now she was nude, save her soft boots,
which she soon kicked off her feet.

   Finally, she scooted back and came up onto her feet in a low squat,
unclasping his belt and tugging at his pants while he kicked his own boots
off.  Once she had removed his trousers, she squatted back down up against
him, feeling his swollen cock against her pubic mound and stomach.

   She looked down at it, squeezed between their stomachs, and one of her
hands followed her gaze.

   As she stood up, Harlen followed, not that he had much choice, she had
his manhood firmly in her grasp.  She kissed and tugged him as she backed
to the railing that edged the platform around.  She moved to it and felt
the smoothly sanded wood on her backside.

   Harlen was breathing short now, and thought he knew her intent.  He
touched her smooth-skinned shoulders and turned her about gently.

   Hyandai grasped the railing with both hands, her knuckles white even in
the dim moonlight that filtered through the trees.  Her chest lowered to
the rail as well, presenting herself to him with her legs apart.

   With a slight adjustment of his position, Harlen stood behind her and
pushed his organ down toward her entrance, she looked back over her
shoulder with a wide smile, her own breathing was also coming in short
gasps.

   Pushing himself smoothly into her, he enjoyed the feeling her soft
insides accommodating him again, smooth and slick, and warm and welcoming.

   Hyandai groaned as he entered her, and he felt the muscles contract
slightly in protest to the intrusion.  Or was it an embrace of welcome?

   Soon, though she was moaning with pleasure as her body learned what was
expected of it.  Would it always be thus?  Harlen wondered.  Though he did
not really seek an answer.  They both were enjoying it, so why bother with
such a small detail?

   Her moans became slowly more insistent and she was pushing back against
him as he went into her.

   Harlen was also feeling the sensation of need, of a desire to be with
her more thoroughly.  He took hold of the curves of her hips and lifted,
straightening his legs.  Her feet now dangled in the air by several inches,
so different were their heights.

   He began to enter her more enthusiastically, slamming himself against
her backside.  Her whole body quivered with each impact and she groaned in
time with them.  A few moments of this rough and forceful action and she
was groaning with a agonizing climax, only moments before Harlen's.  She
was facing into the darkened woods and she cried out her joy while he took
his turn to groan as he spent into her, sending his seed deep into her
body.

   They stayed like that a long moment, he holding her up by her waist and
hips, while she laid her body upon the wooden railing.  His organ throbbed
as she squeezed it, milking every drop of his seed into herself.

   Harlen was, frankly, amazed that he had managed to keep his knees
straight through that and had not fallen, as they were now quite shaky
under him.  He lowered Hyandai to the deck and she moved off his impaling
cock's shaft, turning about again.

   "Will we make love every day?" She asked, smiling at him, pulling
herself to him with her arms and leaning onto his chest.

   "I don't know for certain." Harlen said.  "I don't think I would mind,
though."

   Hyandai yawned mightily, stretching her long arms and legs while arching
her back sharply.  "I fear I am too tired for a second attempt tonight,
though, lover, unless you are very eager for one?" She asked, her
expression quizzical.

   Harlen shook his head.  "Only if you truly want." He replied.  "We have
walked hard and far today and should rest for the morrow."

   Folding herself into his arms, Hyandai sighed.  "We should rest, then,
beloved, the morrow shall likely prove itself trying." She said.

   They spread out their blankets and then laid within the soft folds,
Harlen pressing to her back and enwrapping her protectively with his
powerful arms.  They laid for a while, lost in their own thoughts, then,
eventually, slept.

   - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

   "Awaken, human!" A voice ordered.

   It had the clipped cadence that Hyandai had when she had first met
Harlen.  Oddly, he thought about that for a moment, noticing for the first
time that her accent with Westron had become much better than when they had
met.  strange thing to think about when someone has told you to wake up, he
thought.  The voice commanding his wakefulness, however, was masculine, and
lacked any form of kindness.

   He attempted to move only slowly, turning over from Hyandai's back and
leaving both his arms quite visible.  Instinctively, he knew that moving
suddenly would get him in very severe trouble.

   Harlen opened one eye slowly, seeing four young elven males.  They stood
some paces from the slumbering couple; bows ready, but not aimed, much to
his relief.

   Hyandai gasped and clutched the blanket to her chest as she sat up,
facing them.  "A bit of modesty." She bit out in elven, glaring at the four
elves in what appeared to be uniforms.

   She had been mostly covered, and sheltered by Harlen's bulk from their
eyes where they had approached from the hidden crawlway.  They had not seen
her until she sat up.

   "Lady Hyandai!" The one who had spoken said, his voice higher than even
its normal soprano with shock and surprise.

   At that utterance, the other three registered their surprise with
widened eyes.  In unison, they bowed low, touching their chest to an
extended knee.  The arrows were back in their quivers a second later, and
the four were turning about to face the opposite direction, away from the
couple.

   "I beg forgiveness for disturbing your privacy, lady." The apparent
leader said.  "Had we known it was you and a companion here, we would have
called from below."

   Harlen understood only a tithe of these words, they were very rapidly
spoken and many were sounds he had not heard before.  He turned to Hyandai
with questioning eyes.

   Hyandai dressed rapidly behind the guards, and Harlen joined her in
clothing himself at a quick, worried glance from her.

   "You were doing your job, Evendann." Hyandai said.  "Forgiveness is
given if you think it needed." She turned to Harlen.  "I am sorry beloved,
but I wanted them to find us, that way they were less likely to take action
before thought.  Especially with us asleep and allowing them to have the
element of surprise, they could well afford to be circumspect."

   His eyes were somewhat confused, and a bit worried, as well.  "Lady?"
Harlen asked.  "I am used to the people of my land calling you that.  But
wouldn't that imply status among your people beyond the uniqueness that my
people responded to?"

   Hyandai's eyes cast downward.  "I suppose it would." She said.  "My
father was the Lord of Embalis, before my mother died and that station died
with her."

   It took a long moment for Harlen to absorb this new information.  He
looked at Hyandai, and at the suddenly deferential soldiers, then back at
her.

   "You're noble born?" He asked.

   Hyandai nodded.  "As much as elves have nobility, yes." She said,
looking very embarrassed.  "Officially, I no longer have a title, save
`lady,' and that only residual of my mother's position.  It is more
honorific than title of position, I assure you."

   They had finished dressing when Hyandai said.  "Evendann, please speak
in Westron while we are in Master Harlen's presence.  I am clad, you may
turn about."

   The soldiers rotated to face them again, eyeing Harlen rather
suspiciously, but not hostilely, like they had when they had first awakened
him.

   "Yes, Lady Hyandai." Evendann said, giving with one of those curt
nodding bows that Harlen could not master.

   "Harlen, this is Evendann, an officer of the Guard of Embalis." Hyandai
said, indicating the leading elf.  "One of our finest warriors, I might
add."

   The leader granted Harlen one of the little head-bows.  "I am pleased to
meet you, Master Harlen." He said.  "I apologize for my curtness, I was
unaware you were here at the will of the lady."

   Harlen gave a short bow in return.  "No apology needed." Harlen said. 
"You did what you would normally when finding a human interloping unbidden
in your lands."

   "However, Lady Hyandai, I must correct one of your statements." Evendann
said.  "I am no longer a officer of the Guard.  I command the Guard."

   Hyandai blinked a few times.  "Explain please." She said.

   Harlen could hear a bit of authority in her voice.  She was used to
giving minor commands, and seemed reasonably to expect them to be followed.

   "Captain Cendiolor defected to the Isolationists two weeks ago, lady."
He said.  "He took almost half the Guard with him."

   A moment passed as Hyandai allowed this new information sink in. 
"Almost half?" She asked, her eyes full of worry.

   Evendann nodded.  "I am afraid so, lady." He said.  "We fear their
attack will fall upon us very soon."

   Hyandai packed her blanket and lifted her pack with the Ehladrel onto
her back, then she donned the mottled green cloak that Harlen had made her.
"Then we have need to move to Embalis hastily, no?" She asked.

   "Indeed, we do, Lady Hyandai." He said.  "The Isolationists may be
patrolling these places even this close to Embalis, and some have even
ventured nearly within bowshot of the outbuildings.

   All of them retraced the long, winding tunnel down through the tree back
to the little room in the base and onto the soft loam of the forest floor.
With Harlen and Hyandai in the middle, the four elves took up positions two
before them and two behind, spreading to a distance of about five paces,
making a rude square.  Arrayed as that, they began making their way west
and south.

   Harlen looked at Hyandai.  "We need to speak when we can." He said.

   Returning his look, Hyandai said.  "I know."

   They moved along at a brisk pace, the guards setting a fairly rapid
gait. All of them wore the expression of the very concerned, and watched
the surrounding wood with cautious eyes.  Their bows were again in their
hands and arrows were knocked.  Harlen began to draw an arrow, himself,
when Hyandai stayed his hand, her head shaking negatively.

   "No, betrothed." She said.  "You must not wield arms for now." Her eyes
were apologizing pitiably as she spoke.  "Humans in the wood may not wield
them near elves."

   Harlen nodded.  "I understand." He said.

   The pace was faster than Harlen first imagined, and they soon came over
a low rise in the loamy ground and around a particularly large Ornthalion;
before them lay Embalis.  The elves did not break stride and they continued
into the small valley.

   The village consisted of a few low, open-structured buildings built
around the bases of ornthalion trees larger than any Harlen had seen yet.
As he looked, he could see platforms and catwalks among the tree branches,
far above.  The woodwork was incredibly detailed, and it was obvious that
skilled artisans had worked their craft over most every inch of the
structures.  They looked almost as much grown as built, seeming to merge
directly into the living wood of the tree.  He would have many questions
for Hyandai about the architecture alone.  Geometric shapes, and natural
forms were patterned everywhere, leaves, zig-zags, interlocking woven
patterns reminescent of Coghlandish knotwork, and even some herringbone
patterns, beloved of his own people.  Most of the wood was dark, nearly
black, which Harlen took to be ornthal wood.

   Patches of bright flowers and other colorful plants, including
ground-covering shrubs with blue and red leaves covered the idle corners of
the valley, and there was a brook bisecting the town, and crossed by
several small, elegantly crafted footbridges.

   The sunlight penetrated here more brightly than in the deep wood.  There
were fewer lesser trees about, the ornthalions were the only trees that
seemed to not be cultivated for a specific purpose within the village.  The
sudden brightness was rather taxing to Harlen's dimness-adjusted eyes.

   There seemed to be almost no straight lines anywhere, either in the
overall design of neither the buildings nor the decoration upon them. 
Colors were bright, as well, and extravagant.

   Elven folk moved about the village, a few dozen of them that Harlen
could see.  As the six came out of the wood and descended the valley's
slope and walked onto a faint path of fine gravel.  The folk of the village
began to notice them, and several stopped what they were doing to watch the
group emerging from the wilds.

   "It is now your turn to be the one gaped at, Harlen." Hyandai said with
a bit of a smile.  "This far into Windir, few humans are seen, if any.  And
those are Windy Islanders, when they are seen at all."

   The expressions on the elven faces about him ranged from distant
curiosity to near hostility.  Only a discouraging few of the people were
openly friendly, smiling at the sight of a man in their village after all
those long years.

   With an effort, Harlen kept his head high and his eyes forward.  He
would not bow his head and humble his race.  Somehow, he knew that would be
a mistake.

   The look on Hyandai's face was one of pride as she watched him stand
before the intense scrutiny coming from all quarters as they marched toward
the center of the village.  Harlen towered over everyone around him, and
his massive shoulders simply amplified that effect.

   Harlen's first assessment was somewhat off, however, as the village was
larger than he had thought, the mists had hidden fully half of it.  Now,
neared the village's center, he saw larger, and more ornately decorated
structures about.  They seemed to be moving directly toward an especially
large one.

   "The Ruling Hall." Hyandai whispered into his ear.  "Where the Lord and
Lady of Embalis will be awaiting.  He is Ircandann, and she Melewen.  They
are good and just persons, Harlen, and wise."

   Harlen nodded, his eyes watching all about them, observing the dozens of
elves gathering as they approached the large building with all the columns
around its periphery.  It seemed to have no walls, simply a large roof.  As
they neared, he saw large curtains that were folded to the inner sides of
the columns, which could unfurl to cover the sides to form a more sealed
building.

   Among the people they passed, he could hear snippets of conversation in
elven, of which only a little could be understood by the man.  He did hear,
several times the words `Westron,' `betrothed,' and `large.' He reached up
and touched the long braid that rested beside his face; he often forgot it
was there, marking him as a taken man to elven folk.

   His eyes went to Hyandai, still walking quietly beside him.  She was
matching his step; a further indicator that they were together, along with
the long braid of his hair in hers, which she wore beside her own face. 
Harlen was curious about one thing, though, and tried to take her hand. 
She took it, and held to him firmly, giving him an encouraging smile.

   The low murmur increased slightly at that, but not much.  It was obvious
they were together already, and the handholding was simply a more tactile
reminder for Harlen that she was with him and he with her.

   A sudden realization came to him about the elven ladies he saw about. 
They had sharper, more angular faces than Hyandai, some much more so.  They
were beautiful, he realized, but they were more alien to him than she,
unfathomable, unreachable, and unknowable.  He looked at his betrothed
again, she was more round-featured, and much more lovely in his eyes.

   She caught his glance and looked back, her expression somewhat
inquisitive.

   "You're so beautiful." Harlen said.  "I love you."

   She smiled broadly, her entire face glowing with pleasure at his words.
"And I love you, my handsome lover." She replied, her eyes suddenly full of
warmth, where before they had been rather set and somewhat cold, or perhaps
simply thoughtful and reserved.

   One of the guards looked back and gave a quick smile, a tacit approval
of their romance, Harlen realized.  Not all elves were hostile to the
intermingling of humans and elves.

   The six began climbing the steps at the front of the huge building.  A
small crowd was gathering at their approach, though they waited quietly at
the foot of the stairs.  The soldiers stopped at the top, and spread apart,
opening a way for the couple.  The guard who had smiled at Harlen and
Hyandai looked him in the eye again.

   "Luck be with you." He whispered, giving Harlen a little head-bow.

   The chamber formed inside the building was huge, almost two hundred
paces deep and a hundred wide.  Their soft soled boots made little noise on
the white marble floor beneath them, and the ornate painting and
woodcarving of the roof reflected in the floor, forming a almost dazzling
illusion of walking on glass over a massive deep valley.

   Harlen looked ahead and saw a raised dais, only one step, with two large
carven thrones atop it.  Two figures were seated on the thrones, and a
half-dozen more elves standing about those two.  Harlen knew a royal throne
when he saw it, and knew he was about to be in for a lot of very stressful
conversation.

   They approached to within ten paces and Hyandai stopped.  Harlen was
watching her closely, so he stopped, as well.  She lowered herself to one
knee, with the other leg out almost straight.  She bowed until her body was
pressed to that leg.  Harlen was not at all sure he could quite do that
particular bow, but tried his best, managing something reasonably close.

   Hyandai suppressed a giggle.  "Not bad." She whispered.  "You are too
stiff."

   The man seated upon one throne was elderly looking, or at least as
elderly as any elf he had seen, which was not very.  They both seemed to be
about forty to his eyes, with some light graying at their temples, and the
lady's hair showing white streaks among her dark brown tresses.  He had no
doubt that they were much, much older.

   Their silvern eyes bored into the couple before them.  "Hyandai."
Ircandann said, nodding his head as she rose back to her feet.  "You have
company, despite the edict." He intoned; his voice was rich and had many
sub-harmonics to it.  Harlen found it sounded almost elven, even though he
was speaking Westron.  "I trust you have good reason for the violation?"

   Hyandai nodded.  "Lord Ircandann, without this man's assistance, I would
be now dead." She said.  "I would share Eleean's fate." She lowered her
head, as did all the elves in by the thrones.

   Harlen lowered his, as well, out of respect for their ways, and for
Eleean.

   She pulled her long cloak aside, revealing the Ehladrel behind her
shoulder.  She removed it from the protective leather case, holding it out
before her.  "I have retrieved the Ehladrel of my clan." She said.  The
eyes of the assembled elves grew wide upon sighting of this heirloom,
including the lord and lady, but only for a short moment.

   "This too was only achieved with the assistance of my betrothed, Harlen
of Morrovale." She said, almost formally.  Harlen noted the working of
`betrothed' into that statement.  She was making it clear that they were
joined.

   The lord made a gesture with his hand, and one of the elves around him
walked forward and gently took the Ehladrel and case from her.  He slipped
it back into the case, bowing to Hyandai as he did so.  He returned to
Ircandann's side and stood silently again.

   Ircandann made another gesture, and all the others left the area,
walking quickly toward the back of the building, and soon moving out of
earshot.

   "Harlen, I thank you, in the name of all elvenkind for your assistance
in this matter." He said, his eyes regarding the human, measuring him
against unknown, and perhaps unknowable criterion.  "However, you find us
in dark times, man of Morrovale.  We stand at the doorstep of war, a war
like none have seen in many millennia in Feldare."

   "We would welcome you to our land and homes gladly, at any other time."
Ircandann said, coming to the meaningful part of the statement.  "But with
what is about to befall, we cannot be certain of anyone."

   The look of alarm growing on Hyandai's face quickly made Harlen nervous.
She licked her lips and, only with great effort, held her tongue.  She cast
a wary glance at Harlen; her eyes seemed apologetic.

   "We understand you are betrothed, Hyandai, and we would not stand in the
way of matters personal." The elven lord said.  "But Master Harlen cannot
remain among us."

   Hyandai leaped at the lull in his words.  "Then we will leave
immediately, my lord." She said; her voice higher pitched than normal, and
full of anxiety.  "I have delivered the Ehladrel to you and the quest is
finished."

   A sympathetic smile came over the Lady Melewen's face.  "Hyandai, you
know that you cannot go." She said.

   Alarms went off in Harlen's head.  They were going to send him home, and
Hyandai was not going to be allowed to go with him!  He took a single step
forward.

   "Wait a minute." Harlen said, both the elven nobles turned to him, a
slight look of surprise on their faces.  "Neither Hyandai goes with I, or
me stay."

   Not a bad try.  Hyandai thought, smiling with pride in her man.

   "Master Harlen." Lord Ircandann said.  "You must understand our
position. We are about to go to war, civil war.  There is no form of battle
so grievous as brother taking up arms against brother.  Or friend against
friend." The elven noble gave him a long, hard look.  "As you certainly
know."

   "Hyandai is our finest tactician." Lady Melewen said, picking up
Ircandann's line of speech without pause.  "Though she has never led troops
into battle, she is our strategic advisor for the upcoming war, whether she
likes or no.  We feared we would be facing this foe without her able
knowledge and are gladdened that this is not so.  Again, we are most
thankful."

   "However." Ircandann said.  "We cannot have you here when this event
befalls.  Your mere presence would just drive them into that much more of a
frenzy."

   Harlen sneered.  "The people who wish to kill you would wish to kill you
deader?" He asked.

   A narrow smile formed on the noble's mouth.  "Harlen, while I understand
your frustration." He said.  "The separation will only last the duration of
the coming conflict."

   Tears were forming in Hyandai's eyes.  "My lord, please." She said.  "I
will be worth nothing to you, strategically, or otherwise, if you send
Harlen away, or will not let me go.  I have done more than my fair share of
the effort, risking my very life, alone in the wilds beyond Windir.  Only
by fortuitous luck did I happen to come upon a man both able and willing to
aid me, and give my heart to his keeping."

   "Hyandai!" Lord Ircandann said, rather sharply.  "You will accept the
needs of your people!"

   She bowed her head, the tears now falling.  "Yes my lord." She said, her
voice both broken and humbled.

   Harlen felt rage and anger well up in himself.  His fists clenched
tightly and he set his jaw.  The new hostility in his eyes was very evident
and, naturally, the elven nobles saw it, quite clearly.

   "Still your anger, Harlen." Ircandann said, raising a placid hand.  "It
will serve no purpose.  This decision is immutable and final." He gestured
with two fingers and the courtesans approached from the distant quarter of
the building they had retreated to.

   "Nemanth." Ircandann said.  "Arrange for a honor guard to escort Master
Harlen to the border, with all haste.  A mounted squad." He turned to
Harlen.  "You can ride, yes?"

   Harlen nodded.  "I have some experience with horses, Lord Ircandann," He
said, through gritted teeth.

   The nobleman nodded.  "I give you one hour." He said, and they all rose,
the entire retinue and the two nobles, and left the couple.

   Hyandai sobbed as she fell into his arms.  "I cannot believe they are
doing this!" She cried.  "My chest feels like it will crush inward upon my
heart and fell me.  It hurts so badly."

   Harlen comforted her as best he could, though he was likewise quite
distraught, his own chest tight and painful.  "I can." He said.  "You said
there are three factions.  I just met the Monarchists."

   She nodded.  "Truly." She said.  "Still, to send away the man who helped
bring back their only hope." She glared off to where the nobles and their
retinue stood near the back corner of the building.  "It is a foolish move,
and me grieving for my betrothed will serve their needs poorly."

   Harlen took hold of Hyandai's shoulders and looked at her.  "No." He
said.  "You cannot do this half-heartedly, even if you are under duress."
He kissed her brow.  "You have to win this battle, else you may not live
through it, and then I will loose you."

   She wiped tears from her cheeks.  "I should give my best?" She asked.

   "Better than your best." Harlen replied.  "Give them victory." He forced
himself to smile.  "Then we can be together again."

   She nodded.  "Very well, betrothed." She said.  "I will give them
victory, if it is in my power."

   "Make it be." Harlen murmured into her hair as he pulled her close to
him.

   Tears flowed down her cheeks and she sobbed into his chest for a long
while.  Her hands clasped the cloth of his tunic and released over and
over. After a very long moment, she looked up at him, her eyes resigned and
lost.

   "If Wendy comes back from the hills before I return." She said.  "Keep
her company.  You have both my blessing and my encouragement.  She is a
good woman."

   Harlen shook his head.  "I thought that it was never to be one of us
alone." He said.

   She smiled up at him.  "That is a rule for her, SHE is not to seek us
alone." Hyandai explained.  "If we wish it, we can do so, especially with
the other's blessing, which you now have." Tears were still waiting to
fall, but she had stopped them for now.  "You both seem to like one
another, and you should enjoy the other's company in my absence." Her eyes
grew more deeply green for a moment.  "I shall `catch up' when I return,
trust me." She said, her voice darker and huskier than normal.  "Then you
will both be my personal playthings until I am sated."

   Hyandai's normal expression returned, though still saddened and near to
tears.  "Harlen, please, be careful." She said, kissing him deeply.  The
kiss lasted a long moment, then they pulled apart as the nobles returned,
with their entourage, and a half dozen elven warriors, dressed similarly to
the ones who had brought them to town, in close fitting leather armor, and
shorter cloaks.

   "Be watchful, my love." Harlen said as she stepped back.  "I am going
home, you're the one staying in a foreign land." He looked at all the
slanted elven eyes about him.  Most of them were full of sympathy, but a
few were cold and uncaring of the lovers' dilemma.  Luckily, none of the
soldiers seemed to be of the latter sort.

   "I am Cendran, I will be leading your escort, Master Harlen." He said.
He performed a head-bow and then extended his hand, human-fashion.  Harlen
was surprised at the strength of the elf's grip.  These riders were taller
and broader built than most of their kindred, probably selected for cavalry
due to those facts.  Cendran was almost six feet in height, and well
muscled.

   Hyandai was led away by Lady Melewen and two other women.  She
constantly turned about, though, watching Harlen with eyes full of tears.
Finally, Harlen could no longer take stand the wrenching on his chest.

   "Lead me to the horses, Cendran, please, I must get away before I change
my mind and get myself into trouble." Harlen said.

   Cendran nodded with understanding marking his face.  "Of course, Master
Harlen."

   They led him to the outer perimeter of the massive chamber, then down to
seven horses, all fine beasts, lean and powerful.  They wore mottled green
cloth covers over their white and brown markings.  Camouflage, Harlen
realized.

   "We will be riding very fast and hard, Master Harlen." Cendran said. 
"We are commanded to have you to the river by dark."

   Harlen nodded.  He glanced over and saw Hyandai being led up a stair
that wound about one of the Ornthalion trees.  Soon she was lost to his
sight as she climbed up and around the massive trunk.  Before her form
passed out of sight, she gave him one last, long look, and then bowed her
head and walked from view.

   "Of course." Harlen said, turning to Cendran.

   --

   The trip was a fast one, as promised.  These horses were quick, Harlen
soon realized.  He wondered how they bred horses that could make such speed
upon loamy soil and rough ground.  Regardless, these beasts did so,
galloping at a speed that was both exhilarating and frightening.  They tore
through clearings, and vaulted over shrubbery that Harlen would have sworn
too high and deep to clear, but the horses made little of it, or the burden
of a grown human.

   It was not for over half the trip that Harlen realized that they were
not simply riding, but two of the horsemen were chanting as they went,
quietly, but chanting.  The horses were under a spell, or multiple spells.
After almost five hours they had covered the entire distance between
Embalis and the ford.  The elves stopped at the ford, Cendran riding up
beside Harlen.

   "Value my words as you will, Harlen." Cendran said.  "I think the lords
make a mistake sending you away, as do many others." He smiled at the
human. "At the very least, you would be another strong arm against the
traitors."

   The other five horsemen nodded their individual assents.  Saluting
Harlen with a hand across their chest, laid flat, and bowing their heads.

   "Take the horse, Harlen." Cendran said.  "My own gift to you for your
assistance in recovering the Ehladrel." His face grew very serious. 
"Without that gift, what little hope we now have would not be.  I would
thank you for helping return the Lady Hyandai to us, but your trothplait
speaks of thanks and blessings I could never match." The other riders
chuckled slightly at that, along with Cendran's broad smile.

   Harlen smiled and patted the horse's neck.  "Does he have a name?" He
asked the rider.

   Cendran chuckled.  "Yes, but he has not told it to me." He said. 
"Perhaps he will tell you."

   Harlen chuckled, as well.  "I thank you for the beast, then, Cendran."
He said.  "He is a fine animal, I will care for him well."

   A moment passed, and Harlen felt it was time for farewell.  "Cendran,
please do me a favor."

   "If it be in my power, Master Harlen, it will be done." The elf said.

   "Watch over Hyandai for me." Harlen said.  "I will not be able to live
without her."

   Cendran saluted.  "It will be done." He said.  "My men and I will
protect her with our very lives." The other five nodded assent as well,
murmuring agreement in both Westron and elven.

   "Oh." Harlen said, holding out the soft leather pouch with the mock
Ehladrel in it.  "Please give this to Hyandai, she needs to find a young
would-be blade dancer to gift it to."

   Cendran took it with a smile, and looked at it.  "Well crafted, Harlen."
He said, grinning.  "A young lad or lass will treasure it, especially
knowing human hands wrought it."

   Harlen had never thought that elves might value human produced items of
quality in the same way humans valued the elven products.

   "Then me thank you and hope to see all of you soon, after a grievous
victory." Harlen intoned, in passable elven.

   The elves smiled and wheeled their mounts about.  Harlen had no doubt
they would watch from the wood until he rode out of sight toward Morrovale.

   He was unsure what to do.  He was not even sure he could find Embalis
again without a guide.  He guided the horse across the river, crossing the
ford easily with the mount's powerful swimming.  The horse seemed a bit out
of place, and nervous in the rather open terrain it now traversed as it
crossed through the ruins of Markham's Ford.  He looked back at Windir, the
thought came to him again to ride back into the wood and find Embalis and
steal Hyandai from them.  It was just as quickly discarded.

   No.  He would have to play the elven game to have his elven woman.  He
now saw the plight of their love and the risks it would have to endure.  He
rode onward, at a slow trot.  He would be in Morrovale before midnight with
the aid of the horse.  His heart felt like it was being wrenched from his
chest as the distance between him and his beloved increased.

   Harlen set his jaw sternly and rode hard for the village.  Determined to
get the moving over and done.

   Just before midnight, he tied the horse's reigns at a post outside the
Pierced Boar.  "You stay put N'umessa." He said, stroking the muzzle of the
beast.  The beast snorted slightly and began drinking the water in the
trough before the post.

   He walked into the tavern, and found it lightly populated, just a few of
the die hard drinkers.  "Harlen!" Called Tammer.  "Welcome back, and sooner
than I had thought."

   A second later, he stopped smiling at his former apprentice.  "Oh,
damn." He said, quietly.  He walked up and patted Harlen's shoulder.  "What
happened son?" He said.

   "Tammer." Harlen said.  "They made her stay and made me leave, until
some sort of dispute is settled."

   Tammer nodded.  "But she will be coming back?" He said, hopefully.

   Harlen nodded dejectedly.  "Yes." He said.  "After the battle."

   "Battle?" Tammer said, looking at Harlen askance.  "What's that about?"

   There's going to be a civil war, between Hyandai's village and some
rogue elven isolationists." Harlen explained.

   "May the One Protect." Tammer said, his voice distant.  "There's never
been anything like that I've ever heard of."

   "There is, or so Hyandai says." Harlen said.  "When the dark elves split
from the elves of the surface, thousands of years ago."

   "Shit." Tammer muttered.  "That's just bloody wonderful."

   "Give me a bottle of rum, Tammer, and a shot glass, and beer." Harlen
said, glowering at his idle hands.  "And keep the beer flowing."

   Tammer nodded and fetched the requested spirits.

   Harlen looked down at the shot glass of brown liquid, and at the bottle
of even more of it, and at the tall mug of beer.  Well, this will have to
do, won't it?  He asked himself.

   ********** 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)