Saraya stood out upon the balcony. A cool wind blew, but the princess hardly felt it. Her gaze was fixed intently on the black smoke miles off; the evidence of her second home's destruction. How many elves escaped? Saraya knew the number was terribly low, but prayed more of her brethren got out of the forest and to the Sanado's protective walls.
"Come away from the window, dearest," a strong arm wrapped about her, "pain not your eyes with that frightful sight." Sir Jon pulled the princess away. Her green satin gown and slippers belied her strength, he knew. They hid the heart of a ranger, tested in battle and toughened by long, cold nights in the wild.
"When will my father send you out to fight them? Do you yet know?" The princess caressed his cheek.
"Too soon, in all likelihood. He has tasked me with talking with the Gordehen Tribes today. If we could add their strength to our alliance . . ." he trailed off, "we may yet prevail."
"We WILL prevail, Sir Jon. Never think otherwise, or we will doom ourselves."
"I shall miss your spirit, good lady," Sir Jon smiled, "as well as your bow. I have not decided which I will miss more."
"I shall miss your arm around me, Sir Jon. Would that I could go with you," Saraya said, placing her hand over her belly, "but I must think to our future."
"Let me OUT!" Karwyn rattled the bars of her cage, "Let me OUT! I can help fight the Dark Queen!" Her 'owner,' a fat slob of a person who only had the superficial resemblances of an elf, only flicked a sliver of meat to Karwyn.
"How's that? You're a pixie, and about this tall." He demonstrated with his fingers.
"I'm a member of the Order of Celeste! I can call down the fire and light of the heavens!"
"And yet, you can't even get out of a cage."
"Because I'm a pixie, you oaf! I need pixie dust to use my magic, and Celeste help you when I get some." The small woman threw herself against the back of her cage and sat down on the floor. It had only been two days since her capture, but already Karwyn's blue dress was in a state of disrepair and dirt. The runes of the heavens were now dull and bronzed, rather than their proper gold. Her stockings and slippers fared little better. She could only imagine the ruin of her hair.
Her only comfort was that the oaf didn't realize the importance of the Stone of Genia, and had tossed it to the corner, far way from Karwyn.
The Gordehen Tribes were among the first affected by the Dark Queen's unholy armies. 'Uncivilized brutes', they lived on the margins of the great cultures of elves and humans. When Zophina came, she used guile and bribery as well as conquest to bring them down. Betrayed by their fellows, it was only through the wisdom of their chieftain that they not only survived, but migrated to the gates of Sanado.
They looked for respite and protection, but the great elven city feared and looked down upon the barbarians, and forced the tribes to live outside the gates. In return, the tribesmen refused to help the fight against Zophina. Sir Jon had come to negotiate a treaty.
He entered the makeshift hall not knowing what he would find. Mikalon had prepared wisely; the hall was filled not only with warriors and councilors, but women and children.
"Have you come to accept our agreement?" Mikalon said. Despite the animal skins and beaded hair, he seemed entirely regal.
"I have come to negotiate." Sir Jon replied calmly.
Mikalon waved his hand, "Then be gone. I am deaf to negotiations." He turned away from Sir Jon.
"Wait! You must know that fighting Zophina's legions alone is folly! Join forces with us and your people may yet survive."
"By joining forces, do you mean making my warriors fodder for your armies? By joining forces, do you mean keeping your people safe behind stone walls while mine cringe in fear in the open? You have a strange definition of joining forces, paladin."
Sir Jon hung his head and turned from the hall. The king had only given him so much leeway, and the paladin could see that not enough was granted. Unfortunately, Jon had little hope of returning. He couldn't imagine the Gordehen shanty town surviving even two more days.
