Chapter 1: An Army

“Come to the window, my love and see.” Still naked and holding her belt quiver containing a solitary elf-arrow, the lovely Lady-Elf Zyndyr moved to the window of their bedchamber, in a tower of the High Queen Myr’s palace, the hub of government of the Seven Kingdoms of the Dwarves.

It was a command her lover Korwyn, Lord of the Headland of Baldyah, couldn’t ignore.

Korwyn joined her. He shivered in his nakedness, the dawn breeze was chilly, though the fair skies above promised sun and warmth later. Zyndyr’s nakedness was unaffected, as if this state of undress was completely natural to her.

Zyndyr drew that lone arrow from her quiver, making her movements more theatrically exaggerated than usual, with a smile playing upon her luscious lips and one raised eyebrow, making her look unutterably adorable to Korwyn’s worshipping gaze. She nocked the arrow onto her slim bow, drew the drawstring taut until the arrow tip almost touched her grip upon the bow, and fired it across the courtyard into an isolated tree, which instantly burst into flames. Korwyn imagined he felt a twinge in his old wound at the reaction, but realised it was all in his head, his shoulder was fine. Still smiling he returned his gaze to his lover.

“Very impressive, Zyn, my dear, I am glad that I am firmly of the belief that we will never have a falling out, though our marriage endures for us forever.”

“I believe that too, my dear Wyn, but that doesn’t mean that we won’t get angry together in the future, we just need to know exactly where to channel that anger and at whom.”

‘What did she mean?’ he wondered.

She showed him the empty quiver. Empty then, but within moments the arrow she had just shot at the tree rematerialised undamaged in the quiver.

“An Elf archer, my dearest Man though still to be taught all our ways, never, ever, runs out of ammunition.”

“Ahh, so all the arrows you shot at the White Dragon, you never ran short, did you? But I still don’t ... ahh!”

“Now you see Wyn? The arrow that wounded your shoulder and the others which killed your father, grandfather and uncle were never fired by an Elf, but by someone who had already killed an Elf in order to take his weapons, then using the opportunity of the tense atmosphere and, for them, the opportunist attack of the Black Dragon, to eliminate the King and three possible rivals, the Crown Prince, the next eldest in line for the throne, your father, and you.”

“My uncle, the present King!”

“Aye, my Lord, I believe your father and grandfather were murdered by your uncle in order to secure the throne, then you were a rival as he was only a half brother to the Crown Prince and your father and the other Lords may have chosen you as the next king had you been fit to challenge Goadrik. It appears your farming days will have to wait.”

“I was at death’s door for many months after Hawkshart, Zyn, I wasn’t fit to ride a horse and pick up the cold trail of the Black Dragon for almost a full year. Not only did that elf-arrow hurt more than an ordinary wound, by falling into the ravine I broke bones and lost a lot of blood before my mother found my near lifeless body among all the confusion after the battle.”

“My kins-Elf Pearambre was the maker and owner of this arrowhead,” Zyndyr told of the arrowhead which once hung around Korwyn Lord of Man’s neck, the one that caused his horrible wound in his left shoulder. “He was a learned and venerable ancient elf, no longer a warrior in his later years but a librarian who probably hadn’t fired an arrow in a century or more.”

“You knew him?” Korwyn asked as he dressed, in the light and airy tower room that the grateful Queen Myr had made available to the heroes who had rescued her from the Mad Sorcerer and Orcs of Blearn Mountain.

“Aye, an ancient Elf aged over 30 thousand years, a warrior once, hence his attachment to his old bow, but latterly he was the Keeper of the Scrolls at the ancient Elf Library in the Forest of Deheem. I helped him move several cartloads of the ancient scrolls for safe keeping at what was the palace of the Elf Kingdom of Gomdolphriad until a permanent home could be found for them back on our Homeworld. The Forest of Deheem was about to be conceded to the Trolls as part of the Treaty that was to be signed at Hawkshart Plain and we removed everything in readiness. Keeper Pearambre was due to sit at the Central Table as Secretary to the Elves, to record the minutes and note any last-minute agreed and minor alterations to the Treaty, but he never showed up. I saw him last a week before we were to meet at Hawkshart. As part of the escort for taking the Scrolls out of the forest, I left him behind to lock up the empty old library and never saw him again, and a stand-in clerk was found to take his place for the Signing of the Treaty. After the Battle, with so many of our number slain, his absence was never investigated, as the Treaty was never signed.”

“The Forest of Deheem is close to the Kingdom of Man.” Korwyn said. “Although my father and I were in service to our King at the time, I swear we had naught to do with the capture or murder of any elves prior to Hawkshart, or even knowledge of any such act.”

“I know, my dear, there had never been any recent animosity between our kinds, although Man above all are suspicious of all those of the higher beings not their kind. We all lost loved ones, including most of my family, at Hawkshart and in the long wars before and since. That Treaty was supposed to bring us all peace, a civilised settlement of issues, not the chaos we’ve endured for the last ten years.”

“We have long known that the trigger for the battle was the Black Dragon, the reason for such an unprovoked attack has never been proven, until we discovered it was the vengeance of the Mad Wizard of Yandor in the form of the Black Dragon that the Sorcerer was trapped forever inside of. But my Uncle Prince Goadrik had already planned to start the fighting by assassinating my grandfather the King, his half-brothers —”

“— and you.”

“And me, with Elf-arrow fire, knowing that the Militia and King’s Guards at the Plain would, in their shock and anger at the attack, charge the Elves and spark off yet another tiresome war.”

“And, do you know why your half-uncle did not perish at Hawkshart?” Zyndyr asked.

“Aye, I do after consideration, now that I recognise the extent of his treachery. He had claimed to have fallen from his horse while riding alone a week beforehand and had both a leg and his sword arm bound up in splints. ‘I’m unable to ride, and a cart would be uncomfortable,’ he told everyone who’d listen. He was there close to Hawkshart, but safely in the baggage train of the King’s Guard, on the high ground to the west. He must have insisted on a ringside seat to watch the whole drama. The unexpected carnage by the Black Dragon was further cover for his evil treachery. He was declared King before they even found me still alive, and I was in no condition to challenge him then. By giving up our titles of Prince, we had no lawful claim to the throne but, if we suspected murder, my father would have challenged Goadrik’s coronation.”

“I imagine, my dear Man, that his riding injuries were but a falsehood, a ruse on his part to protect him from harm, while those ahead of him were slaughtered, leaving him safe and free to claim the vacant crown for hisself.”

“Aye, that appears the size of it and Goadrik continues to persecute my people with high taxes and duties upon the produce we sell and the commodities we must buy in to live. Furthermore, my efforts to win bounties and prizes by my ever wandering as a merk takes me away from plotting or moving against him.”

“I notice that for the first time you have not called him ‘King’.” Zyndyr said softly as she looked over her lover looking an unstoppable force in his Dragonskin jacket.

He was still in his stockinged feet, though. He had spent a whole winter two years years earlier curing the Black Dragon’s skin, fashioning clothes, boots and a cloak from the pliable heatproof and waterproof dragon leather. The clever man even fashioned a crude boat covered in dragon hide that he could use in the spring to escape the dragon’s island hideaway through the barely navigable water surrounding it. Later, he turned that boat into a rolled-up tent for shelter.

“Nor will I e’er call him ‘king’ or kin,” Korwyn swore, “I owe nothing to the murderer of my father, grandfather and uncle, and give no such favour or legality to the oath of allegiance I made to the Crown when I was but a youth before these evil deeds became manifest. He has no right to the Crown and I owe him no liege.”

“So what will you do, now that you know of his treachery?”

“As soon as I can buy a horse I will ride to his castle in Llandoryn and call him out to duel, the loser to stand trial for murder or treason.”

“Did you want to take the throne from him, Wyn?” Zyndyr felt she had to ask where his ambitions lay.

“Nay, Zyn, I’m no prince. My father Hadryn had it aright, he was second in line to the throne, behind my dear gentle and very funny Uncle, Crown Prince Fyrdrik, but my father happily dropped the ‘prince’ title in favour of ‘Lord’ of our manor on the fertile Isthmus and Headland of Baldyah, a manor borne to my family through my mother’s side. Essentially, my dearest Elf, we of Baldyah are not usually wandering warriors but farmers tied gratefully to the land that provides us bounty. How do you feel to be associated with such humble folk?” Korwyn smiled at the beautiful green-haired creature in front of him.

“As an Elf, we are long associated with the land and forests, such an environment is our natural one and within where we feel most comfortable. Although I have been a warrior for a long time, as I have served two Elf Kings and my Queen and, more recently, the High King and now High Queen of the Seven Dwarf Kingdoms, being an Elf-warrior was a calling of necessities’ sake, not otherwise sought for an occupation. All my grandparents, parents and siblings were farmers in their various ways, earning a respectable and desirable living off the land. I would love us to settle in a fertile land and raise our children in peace, working on and with the land in rhythm with the seasons.”

“Then that is what we will do, my love, once I avenge the murders committed against my family. I seek to gain nothing but the satisfaction in bringing his life to a close in the name of justice and honour.”

“Surely he knows you live still?”

“Aye,” Korwyn stated flatly. He knows, and now I know he knows.”

“And yet he has allowed you to live?”

“No, I believe he has long sought and attempted my demise. I have been beset with ambushes and traps ever since the Battle of Hawkshart Plain, a decade ago. Nowhere, not even the thought of returning home, have I felt comfortable and safe, except now here with you. I had always thought I was just unlucky in finding enemies at every turn, until now. I will never be able to relax my guard and settle down in my manor until I bring Goadrik to justice and end his web of deceit and bullying domination of my people.”

“But now you feel you have been targeted by your uncle rather than just a slave to misfortune?”

“Aye, and I fear I’ll get no free or safe passage through the Land of Man or the domains betwixt here and there. He must’ve heard already of our exploits here, rescuing the Princess who is now our friend the High Queen. I just hope he hasn’t yet discovered that I know of his perfidy and seek compensation by cutting out his heart while looking him in the eye.”

“Let us speak to Queen Myr,” Zyndyr suggested, “perhaps they will help us with an escort through the lands betwixt our nations, like she has offered with your gold reward for rescuing the Princess that you intend to send to your mother.”

“Us?” Korwyn lifted an eyebrow.

“Of course, US!” Zyndyr insisted, flapping her tiny wings in irritation, but then she saw him smile coyly, so rather than punch him, as she was tempted, she pulled him to her and kissed him hard upon the lips.

Korwyn returned the kiss. Soon they were once more in a passionate embrace and Zyndyr pushed his heavy dragonskin jacket over his shoulders to drop to the floor, kissing each other deeply, passionately. Then she pushed him back on the unmade bed and nipped at his chest with her sharp white teeth as she slowly undid the ties holding his shirt front together. Korwyn idly played with her lustrous green hair as she lulled him into a near stupor of pleasure, then he fondled and tickled the pointed tips of her ears with his thumbs, learning last night that this was a particularly erogenous area for Elves, or at least this one in particular, and it gave him pleasure to torment her with more pleasure than she owed she was ever used to in her long life.

She was energised by his gentle touch and tugged his shirt from his tight woollen undertrews before standing up and easing them down and off, leaving her lover wearing naught but the biggest smile any human had dared to wear before her. Once more she marvelled at the depth of her love for this human, she never imagined that she would ever feel in such a heightened rush of emotion about any creature. He was the bravest soldier she had ever met, selfless in his sense of honour and duty, and she always felt completely protected in his presence. He was honest and genuine, too, like an open scroll with no hint of perfidy in the full depth of him. And he was fun to be around as well, he was so easy a person to relax with, her trust of him so complete. Besides, there was no doubt in her mind how deeply he felt about her.

She thought how she only needed Korwyn to make love to her twice more, as decreed by a magic spell that was as old as the Elvish people and their first contact with creatures other than themselves. They made gentle love in the early morning of their first full day together in the palace in Dharibia, seat of the Throne of the highest royal in the Seven Dwarf Kingdoms.

“I love you so much, Wyn,” she moaned as they made the sweetest love to each other, “I so look forward to share our time together, grow old together. Never be apart, never break each other’s hearts.”

“We will always be together, Zyn,” Korwyn promised, “after sacrificing your immortality in the selfless way you have, how could any man leave you? But I would remain with you all my days even if you were still immortal. I love you, Zyn, you hold my beating heart in your hands.”

He looked so earnestly at her, she could sense the true love pouring out of the man, so deep that it wounded her at the thought that she had not been totally honest about surrendering her immortality to him.

“Wyn, about my sacrifice, the surrender of my immortality to you, my love. What we have done so far is but the first of five steps, only three of which are associated with my seduction of you.”

“Steps, what, five steps? Wait, does this mean that at the first step you have not yet fully surrendered your immortality? That even at this stage you could stop and still live forever?”

“Aye, my love, I could, but that would only mean heartache for me, heartache for eternity once you have gone, having spent all your allotted time as a mortal, as in time, you surely must.”

“But it means you are safe now, that while we together face a mortal enemy who may summon the full force of humanity against the pair of us, as well as face many other enemies upon the journey, in which you could get injured and heal yourself still as an immortal?”

“I could still heal myself, as I have healed you, I don’t have to be immortal for that. I merely want to adjust the length of my lifespan to match yours, the one person I love, the one person who loves me unreservedly. Our children too, would be as mortal as you as they are not pure Elvish blood. They will have some of my senses and I will teach them all I know so that they can hone and use those senses; thus they will be better humans, but they will still be human.”

“But you could be so badly injured on this campaign that you might not be able to cure yourself. I heard that many Elves were killed at Hawkshart, although I fell right at the start and saw nothing past the first strike. You have admitted yourself that Elves you knew well died in that Battle.”

“Aye, including my Elf King and many close relatives that I had known all my long life. Though we be immortal and cannot usually die of illness or old age, we can be killed by severe violence or by serious injuries left untreated, be it in battle or in ambush. You, my love, face being killed on sight by your uncle’s agents, and have lived under such a cloud for a decade, even if he doesn’t know you intend to march on him to seek him out. Why should not your lover by your side face the very same risks as you?”

“Because I will constantly worry about you if you were as mortal as I,” Korwyn kept up his argument.

“Does that mean, if I was still immortal ... you would NOT constantly worry about me upon the battlefield?” She smiled at him to reduce the barbs of her teasing.

“No,” he admitted with a slow grin, “I will still worry, still look out for you and find you if you need me or I felt you were in more danger than I. But in every battle I’ve fought my own mortality has remained the same and I’ve survived because I’ve always known I have only the one short precious life; for you to be more vulnerable than you ever have been before adds greater danger to you and therefore the more concern to me.”

“Though you will always worry about me as I worry for you, my dearest Wyn, please let me have my wish, it is my immortality to give up and I freely wish to surrender it and share the whole of the rest of my life with you as you will with all of your lifespan.”

“I ... I...”

“While you’re making up your mind, Wyn, let’s continue making love.”

“Wait, Zyn,” he protested, “I still do not want to make you mortal—”

“Hush, Man, we have made love all night, we are permitted to make love all morning too and it only counts as one encounter among the three within this moon’s quarter. I would need to seduce my favoured mortal twice more, no matter how many times we experience our pleasurable fulfilment within each seduction, before I face losing my immortality. And even then there are two further steps over which I have no control, which I will not go into here.”

“And you’re being honest—?”

“Why, Korwyn, Lord of Man, do you doubt the honest word of Elf-Warrior Zyndyr, once of the Queendom of Gomdolphriad?”

“Nay, my love, I doubt ye not.”

“Then take me to paradise now and soon I will accompany you to the Realm of Mankind, in more ways than one.”

And before Korwyn could retort, the gorgeous elf engulfed his mouth with her hot lips and they were transported in their minds to a land of milk-white pillows and honeyed kisses.