“Allies, like as not, will prove to be the saving grace of a battle, not your own strength.” —Elf Lord ?llethar Songbearer

  The Hollow Mountain, Cryptonia, Ground Plane

  Several days later, Queen Galia crossed her arms and stared at the Gazing Stone intently, tapping her index finger against her bicep. In her strong fingers, she held the letter Pecunia had delivered only an hour before. The Queen had immediately gone to the Stone in the hopes of being contacted through the magical link between the elders’ Mountain Keep and the Tower in the center of Cryptonia. She sighed, her green eyes flashing in frustration, and she turned away from the reflecting surface. It remained stubbornly blank. Something had happened to prevent the vampire, Calian, from utilizing the Stone’s twin in the Tower. That did not bode well, especially since he did not address it in his letter. She took another calming breath and stalked through the hall to her offices. Her long flowing gray dress was expertly decorated with shimmering gems mined in the very mountain rock from which her home was cut. In contrast to the subdued hue of her clothing, Galia’s vibrant red locks were a shock of color.

  “I learn here that it has been a several weeks since the transfer of ownership and still there is no word through the Stone from the Tower,” she grumbled, walking away from the stone. “I swear by the Moon, Ceil, that place goes further and further to hell every time a new governor is selected.”

  “Oh, that may be, Majesty,” the Queen’s Knight close behind her said. His scale mail glinted in the elf light illuminating the hall from wall sconces. “But there is always an adjustment period. The nobles chosen are only human, after all. Perhaps this time it is someone who can, well, rule.”

  “Hmm, this is true,” huffed the queen. “I suppose we should send an envoy to see what has kept the new noble from establishing contact. My daughter is usually so punctual.” She seemed to consider things for several moments as they walked before she stopped. “I hate to suggest it, but I wonder if perhaps something more significant than a simple delay has occurred.”

  “Do you think there is something wrong, Majesty?” Ceil came to a halt beside her, his tone concerned. “I worry for the princess as well, but surely there are any number of reasons why delays have occurred. The Tower has never been breached from the outside; our wards have never failed.” The queen mulled it over several moments before letting out a sigh.

  “You are not wrong. Forgive me, Ceil. I am uneasy with the recent state of affairs.”

  “Understandably so, my lady.” Ceil fell in behind her once again. “You have a kingdom to rule.”

  “Hmm,” Galia murmured again, thinking. “Dispatch a Stone Knight to the Tower to act as an ambassador. Elle would be a good choice; she will be direct and take no nonsense from this human. It will be good for her to have some length of time abroad as well. I believe the link between the Gazing Stones is malfunctioning. See that Elle is given orders to inspect the partner Stone and repair it if necessary.”

  “Yes, Majesty.” Ceil thumped a fist to his chest and departed, carrying her message.

  ???

  “Lady Elle!” A page ran to catch up to the ebony-skinned knight, and she turned to regard the young elf.

  “Yes, what is it?”

  “Her Majesty has orders for you,” he said, holding up a scroll. It bore the queen’s seal. She took it and broke the wax, unrolling it and reading Ceil’s perfect handwriting. “She bids you depart as soon as possible for the Tower,” said the page. “The Queen—”

  “Yes, I see,” she said shortly, her tone clipped. Humans. Another lord, chosen to command the ancient castle. And she, with orders to play nursemaid. Would she ever be sent out to battle again? “Inform Ser Ceil I will leave within the hour.”

  “Yes, my lady,” the page saluted with a hand to his chest and hurried away, leaving Elle with her thoughts. The knight scoffed in frustration and gritted her teeth. Her irritation caused a shallow tremor in the stone tunnel where she stood. Elle squeezed her violet eyes shut and took a calming breath. She mentally recounted all of the Pillars of Strength before finally opening them once more and making her way to the stables.

  Elle found her charger, Granite, saddled and ready near the stone gates leading out onto the mountainside itself. Apparently, Ser Ceil had sent word ahead of her. She rolled her eyes and approached the tall beast, patting his neck.

  “Hello, old friend.” He huffed and leaned his big head into her armored shoulder. “Yes, we are going out again. Gods be good, something interesting will happen.” Granite arched his neck and bobbed his ebony head, ready to be outside on the trail. Elle laughed and stroked his pristine, silver-streaked side. “Be calm, big man. We will be gone soon enough.”

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  She took his lead and headed towards the gates. The wardens saluted her and nodded their helmeted heads. One turned toward the gate as his hands caught light with purple fire. He made several sharp motions and with a rumble, the massive slabs ground apart. When they were wide enough, Elle and the warhorse walked out under the open sky. Once they had exited the cave, Elle mounted and they began the slow descent down the snowy mountain path. The gates ground shut behind them as she savored the cold night air. Granite blew steam through his nostrils, and Elle laughed again.

  “When we get to flat ground, then you can run, you ornery beast.” He snorted but continued walking. At last, they reached the base of the mountain, and Granite sped up. “Fine!” She jammed her helmet down on her head and fastened the strap securely. “To the Tower.”

  She gave him a squeeze, and he leapt forward, fast and agile despite his size. He wove smoothly between trees, easily hurdling fallen limbs and frozen gullies. Elle’s scale armor glinted in the moonlight and she laughed into the wind, her long silver dreadlocks flowing out behind her.

  ???

  Elsid, H?llthar, Ground Plane

  Karri Borgensern stood atop a cart that had been parked in the Elsid Square with his arms crossed on his chest. He watched the scene before him with a deep scowl set in his pale face. A few huts still smoldered in the afternoon sun, but most were left intact. Dead farm animals were visible here and there. Far outnumbering them were the slain men and women who had fought for possession of the town. Those that could be taken alive were, at the orders of Varrak and King Borik. Warriors herded the terrified prisoners together to be carted to the Black Keep when the time came.

  ‘Warriors,’ Karri scoffed to himself, ‘These southern fighters are not fit to carry a Raider’s armor.’ Any one of his fifty northmen could best any five of them single handedly, and the hirelings had barely a grain of discipline among them. Karri noticed one in particular about to make a serious mistake.

  “Hold!” He ordered in the southerners’ tongue. He hated using it, but none of them spoke his own. The mercenary he had called immediately froze mid-swing, looking up.

  “What for? They’re useless to us!” The man spat at the woman sprawled at his feet. He held a short ax in one hand and the woman’s hair in the other as the helpless captive wept in terror. Karri drew himself up to his full height, which was considerable, and stalked over to the man in question.

  “You were ordered not to harm them beyond reason,” he snapped. “Bashing their skulls in with your ax is beyond reason.”

  “You may be the son of a Raider king, boy, but I don’t answer to you,” the man sneered. “You’re not in charge of—” The man’s words were cut short by Karri snatching the ax out of the offender’s hand and embedding it in the mercenary’s chest. The man gargled and gasped in astonishment. He made a pathetic attempt to remove it, then collapsed into the mud, motionless. Silence descended on the crowded crossroads.

  “Does anyone else have a problem with following my orders?!” Karri bellowed. The only sound was that of the prisoners’ whimpers and ragged breathing. “Good! Get on with it!” He went back to the cart and leaned against the wheel, shaking his head.

  “Sometimes I question working with these fools, Jauri,” he muttered irately to his lieutenant in their own dialect. “They tax my patience with their lack of competence.”

  “There is little you or I could do to alter the situation, and you know it,” the large, pale woman beside him chuckled wryly. She did not look up from sharpening her sword. The two were old friends and had fought together for many years. “If this is the path we walk, the gods have decided it should be so.”

  “Then I question the gods as well,” Karri said, looking up at the sky, daring them to strike him down.

  “There are some who would kill you for such blasphemy,” Jauri chuckled, still not looking up. She knew his griping of old and was undeterred.

  “Hmm,” grunted Karri. “Perhaps. Regardless, here is where we are. What we do now is what matters.”

  “Yes, f’lach,” she said coolly. Karri sat on the empty barrel for a few moments, thinking. He finally spoke some time later.

  “Show me the map again. I want to know where we are attacking next.” Jauri reached for the cartograph in her pouch when an insistent pulsing sounded from Karri’s own satchel. He grumbled and withdrew the minor Gazing Stone. “Yes?” Shadows curled from the artifact and coalesced into the visage of his father, the King.

  “My son, I have a new task for you.”

  “We hear and obey, my King,” said Jauri.

  “Karri, you will move northeast to Dan. Take what you can alive, but prevent all you can from escaping. We are no longer hidden, but we should not make it easy for them.”

  “Good. I hate skulking around.”

  “Jauri, you will be leaving soon to lead an assault in the northwest. The stupid dark animals need real leadership, and you are one of the few I have left that I can trust.” The woman sneered.

  “There is no honor in leading such creatures,” she scoffed.

  “But there is in winning the war,” the King said sternly. “I will send word of your mission once you arrive.” Jauri saluted, making the traditional Raider gesture of respect for a clan leader.

  “I go, my King.” She departed to gather her sparse equipment, leaving the King with Karri.

  “We’ll have our forces ready to march by sunup tomorrow, father,” said Karri. “I want to keep the element of surprise as long as possible.”

  “Very good,” the King nodded. “I’ll round up our horses and whatever is left alive around here that can be put to use moving men and supplies.”

  “What of them?” The son paused, looking back at the captured H?lltharians.

  “You will be met by more of Varrak’s dark creatures outside Daan,” said the King. He made an expression of disgust. He liked them even less than the mercenaries and orcs. “You are to hand the prisoners over to them before we attack. They have a secret way to bring the rich’tarak to the Black Keep.”

  “What does that mean?” Jauri looked confused.

  “I have some idea. Some sorcery of Varrak’s.” The King shrugged, sighing. “Whatever the case, they will not be our concern much longer. Be about your work, Karri. Kill without mercy and conquer without hesitation.”

  “We will, father.” The shadow disappeared and Karri continued watching the corralling of the prisoners, deep in thought. He still was not entirely sure how attacking the towns farthest from the safety of their mountain home and the least likely to hold great treasure was a wise decision, but his father knew what he was doing. He hoped.