Part 21

Harlen awoke with a start, realizing that he was alone in the bed. He sat up, casting his eyes about searching the darkened room for Hyandai. When his eyes fell upon his beloved, standing in a long, flowing gown of rich blue silk, they stopped and widened.

Hyandai radiated beauty and affection toward him. She was just standing from a small desk in the corner of her room. A miniature calyondo shone light down upon the desk from a wooden stand. She had been writing.

"Harlen, all is well," Hyandai murmured to him in a soothing tone. She crossed the floor, seeming to float without moving her feet in the long gown. "Why the panic, beloved?" asked Hyandai.

He turned and let his feet touch the floor. "I don't know," replied Harlen. "It just seemed something was wrong, and I wanted to be sure you were safe."

Her lips parted in a wide smile. "Of course I am safe," she said, soothing him. "You and your fellow men of Morrovale have made us all safe for now." Hyandai held out a leather cup to him. "Drink some of this. It will calm you. I understand humans take a while to soothe their nerves after a battle."

"And elves don't?" asked Harlen, then took a long sip from the cup. He felt something cool, but with the slight burn of alcohol sliding down his throat, leaving a fruity aftertaste.

Hyandai grinned. "Of course we do," she replied. "But I have an excellent lover who soothed my nerves quite well, and with admirable enthusiasm, I might add." She sat upon the bed and touched his chest. "Your heart still races," she observed.

He smiled. "That's not battle-worry," replied Harlen. "That's you." He stroked her silken hair, unbound on her cheek. The strands of his own hairs mingled with hers there causing an interesting mixture of texture and color, where she had magically transferred their locks to one another.

She nuzzled toward that contact. "It is me?" asked Hyandai. "I cause such distress in your heart?"

"You cause such excitement," replied Harlen. "If distress I would gladly endure daily, forever."

Hyandai's face grew very solemn. "Then we must care for your health carefully, else we might cause your early demise," she said, feeling his brow with a slender hand, as if checking for fever.

Harlen chuckled and grabbed her about her tiny waist and lifted her to his lap, where she curled tidily against him, kissing his neck and chin, cooing.

There was a light rap upon her chamber's door, then it opened, and Wendy peered in. "So, you two are awake," she observed. She was holding some cloth folded in her arms, stepping through the doorway. "I bear gifts from the folk of Embalis for Harlen, the hero!" declared Wendy, unfurling one piece of the cloth with a flourish.

It was a silken tunic, of a deep green hue, with silver trim about the hem, throat, and cuffs. "What's this?" asked Harlen, still sitting with his pleasant burden upon his lap.

The elven maiden reached out and took it gently, then looked at it. "It is something to wear for the festivities tonight," she said. "And you will be marked as a 'taken' man, I see." She smiled at Wendy. "And where is your gown, soldier of Morrovale?" she asked.

The petite human handed Hyandai the matching pants that went with Harlen's new tunic. She then unfurled a third cloth bundle; a long blue gown, identical to Hyandai's, of shimmering evening blue silk, with the slimmest of silver trim about the collar, hem, and cuffs.

"You are marked?" asked Hyandai.

Wendy gave an embarrassed smile. "In a manner, yes," she said, eyeing the couple. "Until you two tire of my company, I doubt I will be seeking a lover."

Hyandai's eyes grew soft and she uncurled from Harlen's lap, embracing the young woman. She kissed her, gentle at first, then with more passion. "Do not deny yourself for our benefit," she murmured into the girl's thick, dark hair. "We would never ask it of you."

Wendy took on a look of thoughtfulness. "And give up two lovers for one?" she scoffed. "I think not. No, you will have to send me away." She adopted the air of a petulant child, crossing her arms and sticking out her lower lip.

Hyandai giggled at this display, and kissed the distended lip. "You are not going to be sent away, and I think we will all have to speak long on this matter," she announced. "But, tonight, we will feast and revel in our victory. Tomorrow, we will mourn the passing of the fallen, and give honor to their spirits."

"Do I have no say in this?" asked Harlen, eyeing the two lovely women dubiously. "Or am I simply outvoted?"

Hyandai adopted a conspiratorial tone and tilted her head toward Wendy. "He has just heard of being claimed by two of the prettiest women in Morrovale. Yet, he wishes to discuss terms?"

His dubious expression cracked within seconds. "Not so much terms, as privileges," said Harlen. "I would know whence I stand."

"You, Harlen, are betrothed," explained Wendy, "to the Lady Hyandai." She gave a playful and graceful wave toward Hyandai, who bowed with a flourish.

"However," Hyandai interrupted, "WE have a girlfriend." She pointed to Wendy, who also lowered her trunk in a playful bow and flashed a broad smile.

Harlen smiled, but retained a somewhat confused expression. "And if something happens?" he asked. "Such as, perhaps, a child?"

Wendy blinked a moment, but Hyandai stepped in helpfully. "Such a blessing would be most welcome," she said, "would it not?"

Harlen and Wendy both rather gaped a moment, then Wendy spoke first. "I love both of you. As you suspected, Hyandai, I longed for Harlen long ago," she said, "and would now, were he available to me." Her brow wrinkled with thought. "I also love you, now, Hyandai," she added, "and would not wish to lose either of you. Of course, I wish to bear children one day, and would not mind that day being soon." She smiled sheepishly at Harlen. "One willing."

Hyandai smiled. "This is foreign to you two, is it not?" she asked. "Perhaps I ask too much, oddity, in our relations." She sat in the chair again. "Or too soon, at the least," she concluded.

There was a long pause while the three took counsel with their individual thoughts. Then Wendy spoke. "What is the elven way of it?" she asked.

"When an elven couple has one that is melethan, or dual-natured, as I am," said Hyandai. "They often take in a third partner of a compatible nature as a ledet'saerunim. A 'third lover.'" She looked at Wendy, then at Harlen. "The ledet'saerunim is a full member of the partnership, at that point, and there is a ceremony among the three." She smiled wanly. "It is a binding thing, like a marriage, well, I guess it IS marriage."

Harlen had risen while she spoke, listening with alert ears, while also donning his new finery. "Do they work out?" he asked.

Hyandai smiled. "Of course," she said. "They simply take a bit more effort, as there are three egos at play." She looked at the two. "My question is this: Would your people in Morrovale accept such a union?"

"The church, no," said Harlen, "the people, yes, conditionally."

Wendy nodded agreement. "There are some nonstandard 'arrangements' in Morrovale already, and they are accepted," she said. "The people, I suppose, were exposed to such three-way relationships in the past." Wendy chuckled. "Probably by elves, come to think of it." Again, she looked at Hyandai. "The third is euphemistically called a handmaiden."

Harlen chuckled. "You mean that those aren't really handmaidens?" he asked.

Eyes wide, Wendy regarded him. "You are joking?" she asked.

"Yes," replied Harlen, "I am. I simply wonder if you are able to live with such a title?"

"If being a 'handmaiden' is what it takes to retain my two newfound lovers," said Wendy, "then a 'handmaiden' I shall be. At least then the rumors of my being a lesbian will be laid to rest." Her face grew somewhat sour. "Or so some men have been saying since I returned from Ghant and did not immediately accept their advances."

Hyandai giggled. "By confirming you are melethan?" she asked.

Wendy placed a series of gentle kisses upon the elf's neck, at the same time, she ran one slim hand down Hyandai's belly toward the joining of her long legs. "Somehow that will only make men more interested in me, rather than scare them off," she said, laying her head upon Hyandai's shoulder.

Harlen's eyes widened at her forwardness. "I can see why," he said in a soft voice, his organ stirring in his pants.

Wendy and Hyandai both looked at him with half-lidded eyes. The two looked more like sisters than Hyandai and Loskenhaur did, in reality.

"So, Harlen, would you accept me as 'handmaiden' and ledet'saerunim?" asked Wendy.

A moment passed while he thought. "I would be foolish not to," he concluded. "As Hyandai pointed out, you two ARE the most beautiful women Morrovale has to offer, and impressive, even without that beauty."

Hyandai reached out, took his hand, and pulled him toward them and they embraced each with one arm about the other two. "Then we will do so," she said. "It is good to have a plan."

Wendy pulled back. "I need to dress for the festivities," she said with sudden worry. "They will begin soon, and we've spent the time babbling." Her chain mail hauberk was shed almost in an instant as she began disrobing in a flurry of activity. It was amazing how much clothing someone going to war tended to wear, Harlen noted, watching her shed layer after layer of armor, padding, vambraces, grieves, and clothes.

At last, though, she was nude, and Hyandai gasped at her shaven privates. "When did you start that?" she asked, smiling.

"The day after you and Harlen and I met," said Wendy, looking down at where Hyandai's focus was.

Hyandai nodded. "Interesting," she observed.

Wendy slithered into the form-fitting silk gown and ran her hands over it, settling the garment into place over her slender body. She wriggled in a sultry manner.

"Wow," she said, "this thing really shows a girl off." She peered down over her slender body and at how it hugged every curve and sank into any low areas. Her prominent lower abdomen was displayed very sensually.

Hyandai clucked at her. "Well, you are slightly more, well, formed, than an elven lady of your years," she said, trying in vain to put a sound of jealousy in her voice, it sounded rather more like desire.

Harlen blinked at the two of them. "I'd be happy to hold the arm of either of you," he said, sitting and admiring their long forms covered in clinging silk.

Elven fingers flitted through Wendy's hair, untangling knots that the battle had wrought upon the girl's dark tresses. Within a few brief minutes, Hyandai had woven her hair into long braids that ran around the curve of Wendy's skull and formed long, slender ropes down the back of her neck.

Wendy giggled. "By the One, you're quick with those fingers!" she exclaimed, looking at herself in a hand mirror.

Hyandai kissed her bared neck. "You have no idea." She said in a deeper tone, with some small measure of menace to it, then she looked up at Wendy with deep green eyes.

They groomed themselves for a short while; preparing to go forth to face the music they heard drifting up from below. Soon, they were ready, and Harlen opened the door and watched the two appealing visions in blue silk float past. They preceded him down the narrow stair to the ground, with Wendy hugging the inner side of the staircase where it spiraled down the thick tree's trunk. From the rather short-breathed way she sighed upon reaching the ground, Harlen realized how much effort it must have cost her to even come up the tree to them.

At the base, he stood confused for a moment while the women sorted themselves to either side of him and took his arms. "But how will I drink?" asked Harlen, looking with concern down at his two occupied arms.

"Very little," said Hyandai. "You need to keep your wits about you, you shall have great demands put upon you this night." She winked across his chest at Wendy, who raised her eyebrows and brought her head up and down, like an elven head bow.

Harlen made a slight whimpering sound while they manhandled him and aimed him for the festivities, a glowing area toward the center of the village.

They arrived at the edge of the gathering at the same time the music was changing. The dance area cleared, and the music settled into something that was meant to be heard and appreciated, but not danced to. People milled about the tables, laden with a huge supply of foodstuffs, elven delicacies, Harlen assumed, and even many varieties of Morrovalian fare, like a rather ostentatious roast boar on a bed of sliced apples.

In normal circumstances, elven folk were not overt carnivores, most often, they consumed their limited meat intake in stews, and less often, pies. However, after the fever of battle and the strong emotions of the day, the boar was showing much sign of depletion. Many elves were seen with chunks of the meat upon their platters, just as often as the humans at the gathering.

Despite their best efforts, different people seemed to contrive to split the trio up, engaging them in cross-purpose conversations and random interactions of newcomers and outgoing participants. Harlen soon found himself facing Tammer and the Lord of Embalis, Ircandann.

"Master Tammer here has informed me that he has gotten, already, over two dozen requests from various huntsmen to stay and study our ways," said Ircandann, smiling. "I suppose, it may be high time that the training of rangers recommenced."

Harlen chuckled. "I imagine that a majority of those 'volunteers' were also single males," he said.

Ircandann blinked a couple of times. "Yes, I believe most of them were," he said, then paused again. "Ah," he sighed. "I see." He leaned in close to the two humans and, in a confidential tone said, "That will not be so bad, either, then, for truthfully, we have not nearly as many men, after the battle, as women." He stood upright again. "While not a mournful first thought, a leader must also think of the pragmatic points."

Tammer smiled. "Why do you think I volunteered, back in my day?" he said. "Nothing like young women to attract young men."

"So long as they are not thought opportunistic." Harlen said, looking at Lord Ircandann with appraising eyes.

Lord Ircandann's expression bordered on shock. "Never!" he said with certainty. "They are heroes to the people of Embalis. They have risked their very lives to protect ours." He shook his head. "It is reasonable that they should wish to feel welcome in a town that would not exist if not for their actions." He smiled. "I am certain the people of Embalis share my feelings in this."

Ircandann pointed to Harlen's left with his chin. Following the lord's gaze, he saw Regas, one of the more eligible bachelor huntsmen standing nearby, with three young elven ladies speaking to him in a tight knot.

Harlen nodded. "I see," he said. He caught sight of Hyandai for the first time in several minutes. She was conversing with her sister and two other elven women, who were giggling while Loskenhaur was busy blushing and covering her eyes. Harlen smiled and waved when she looked up and caught sight of him.

Hyandai, for her part, made a very subtle gesture to his left. He looked that direction to see Wendy, standing alone. It seemed that the elven lads were frightened of the human women, unlike the human males' fascination with elven women. He glanced back at Hyandai, and was rewarded with a look of undeniable clarity informing him to go to Wendy, now.

A dutiful mate, to both women, no less, Harlen went to Wendy's side. He slipped an arm around her and kissed her smooth shoulder. "Hello, beautiful lady," he said, placing much softness into his voice.

She smiled up at him. "I'm okay, Harlen," she said. "Don't let me interfere with the revelries."

"You cannot," said Harlen, his expression earnest. "That would imply that you could, in some way, diminish a good thing." He shook his head.

Wendy pressed into him and put one hand upon his encircling arm. "Hyandai certainly has taught you smooth words," she said with an appreciative sigh. "I cannot wait to hear them in elven."

"Probably not too long," ventured Harlen, "before you can do just that." He looked around the crowd. "I've been learning quite a lot of elven from Hyandai."

A slow nod from Wendy was his reply. "I wish to learn it, as well," she said. "It's a lovely language."

"Are you really happy with the 'handmaiden' arrangement?" asked Wendy.

Harlen blinked at her, having, himself, for once, been caught flatfooted by a non sequitur.

"Why wouldn't I be?" he asked. "I mean it when I say you two are the most desirable women in the land."

Wendy chuckled. "That would make me a distant number two of the top two, then," she murmured. "Hyandai is gorgeous."

"Bullshit!" spat Harlen. "You're extremely pretty. Hell, had I known you were in town, I would have come to see you right off, even if Tammer had tried to bribe me away." Harlen let out a low laugh. "I thought, when I was fourteen, that my heart would break in two when you left."

He paused a long moment. "It rather peeves me a bit, actually," said Harlen, "that there is not a bit more difference in the looks of you two, Hyandai and you. A bit of variety, if you will."

She giggled at that. "Well, I have round ears," offered Wendy, "and a bigger bu... "

Wendy was interrupted by Tammer mounting a table and ringing a small bell. The old ranger reached into his pocket and pulled out that odd glowing green stone that Harlen had seen before the battle. He held it to his throat and began speaking.

"People of Embalis!" pronounced Tammer. "Hear me. This day, a glorious day, where an old alliance of men and elves has been tried once again, and has been shown to amount to more than the sum of its parts." He was turning to take in the gathered folk about him, revolving in a slow circle. "I have been asked to give leave to allow some portion of the company of Rangers of Morrovale to stay in Embalis, for manifold reasons. This I have the authority to do, but only for a year and a day, as stipulated by the old agreements."

Harlen felt Hyandai's hand upon his arm. He turned to look at her smiling face.

"Fifty volunteers have offered to stay, and I feel that is a manageable number that the duke will not be too wroth to surrender," continued Tammer. "However, it is necessary for the people of Embalis to provide them with training in exchange for the time they sacrifice from their professions."

"Among other, less tangible, benefits," said Hyandai, in a low stage whisper at Harlen's elbow. Harlen put his arm around his betrothed and pulled her to him.

"Shush," murmured Harlen, pulling Hyandai close, "you'll ruin his moment."

Hyandai whispered into his ear. "The elves are eager to have them, Harlen, let them not fool you," she whispered. "There is already a bit of hen squabbling going on between some of the women over the fifty that are staying."

"Did so many men die?" asked Harlen in a low voice.

"Not quite," replied Hyandai. "Those men are heroes right now; a very desirable commodity. There will be elf-lads unaccompanied to bed tonight, though, admittedly, not many. The fool Isolationists forced many more people into the Warwolf camp, though. Most of them would now be either dead or displaced, were it not for human assistance. It rather drives the point home."

Harlen thought a moment. "And a Warwolf precept is the intermingling of human and elven bloodlines and cultures," he said, his eyes widening in recognition.

"Exactly," said Hyandai, with a smile.

"Why do I feel I may have been manipulated?" accused Harlen, his eyes gaining a small measure of real suspicion.

"No, beloved," replied Hyandai, stroking his arm. "You have not been used. Perhaps I was, but given the outcome, I resent it not."

He looked down at the exceptional woman on his arm and at her deep green eyes. There was no duplicity there; all he saw was affection for him, and for Wendy, when Hyandai turned her eyes to the younger woman.

Wendy had been listening to their conversation and leaned in. "Will not the elven blood thin among us more numerous humans?" she asked.

"Somewhat," said Hyandai. "But not utterly. Elven blood is thick, indeed, and signs of it may appear far into the depths of even the most dispersed bloodline."

Tammer had finished his speech to a polite applause from the humans and elves about him. He stepped down from the table and put the green stone in his pocket. "What is that thing?" asked Harlen, looking at Wendy. "The glowing stone."

"It translates words into the native tongue of the hearer," replied Wendy. "I used it when we were moving alongside the traitor forces before the gates to speak with their commander's aide."

Harlen nodded. "I saw that," he said. "You would be the only human among the lot who could pass for an elf on sight."

"It is a tana'yondo," said Hyandai. "A speaking stone." Then she giggled. "We used to sell those to humans, as well, like the calyondos. They were quite dear, I am told."

After the speech, the festivities moved into gear again. Most of the underage participants, with the exception of a few of the eldest juveniles had departed for bed, and the revelries moved to a more mature level. Dance music was again played, and the clear patch of ground amid the glowing lamps filled with people moving with slow grace. A majority elven, but no few humans attempted the complex and rather demanding steps.

This entertained the elven folk a great deal, though the humans were quick studies, and the dance looked more complex than it, in actuality, was. Hyandai grabbed Wendy's hand and pulled her toward the dance area.

"You dance, too?" asked Harlen. This question was rewarded by a look from Hyandai and Wendy both of profound disbelief.

"Harlen," said Wendy, with infinite patience, "she's an elf."

Hyandai giggled. "Yes, Harlen, of course I dance," she said. "And you will too, very soon. For what man betrothed to an elf cannot dance?"

They ran into the dancing area and moved together, bodies held close and spinning about. Harlen soon figured out why this portion of the celebration had been saved for after the departure of the junior attendees. The moves were very sultry and some would have scandalized Morrovale society for weeks.

"If you hurt her, I will turn you into a fine stew," said the voice of Tammer from just behind Harlen.

The huntsman turned to regard his old mentor. "I would never consider it," he said. "Your granddaughter is as precious to me as Hyandai."

"I know," said Tammer. "That is the only reason I give you three my blessings." His old eyes were misty. "And even then, Harlen, it is not easy to say. My Oneian teachings scream that it is not quite right." He paused a moment, watching the two beautiful women dance. "She seems very happy, though, happier than since she returned from Ghant." His face took on a rather feeble stern look. "She moped for most of four months, since that day. I am gladdened to see her smiling and laughing, even if it means welcoming a lout into my family."

"And an elf," added Harlen.

"Yes, and an elf," repeated Tammer. "My poor family tree will be chock full of vagabonds and forest frolickers." His face took on a sudden look of hypothetical alarm. "Just how the hell does one represent a three-way arrangement in a family tree, tell me that, Master Harem?"

"More branches?" replied Harlen, shrugging. "Ask Hyandai, she's a scribe and an elf, and she says it's not all that rare in their communities."

"I'll do just that," said Tammer, his face now adopting a satisfied air, having been handed a quite sensible solution. "I only somewhat envy you, boy. You have heard the old saw about 'serving two masters'?" The elder huntsman chuckled. "You may find two Mistresses an even sorer trial," he concluded.

Wendy was fast approaching Harlen, and Hyandai was now twirling off with her brother leading, they seemed deep in discussion even while they executed the graceful motions of the dance.

"I cannot fault you, my sister, for your choice in a man," said Ceriandel. "He is a good man, from all I hear, and I will welcome him as a brother, should that be your choice." He dipped Hyandai with the grace and practice of two who learned to dance together.

Hyandai smiled. "Thank you, dear brother," she said. "He is a good man, and I love him, I will be wedding him after the year."

Ceriandel looked over at Harlen. "Why do you wish to wait?" he asked. "The year is a simple formality, one that is oft disregarded."

She spun away from him, then back, stopping with expert grace just short of slamming into him with her back. "There is much non formal in our relationship," said Hyandai. "I wish for as much to be 'by the rules' as I can manage."

Wendy took Harlen's hand and guided him onto the floor. "Now, your turn, lover," she said, giving him a toothy, predatory grin. Harlen was not much of a dancer, but he was agile enough and learned the mechanics within minutes. Soon, he was making passable, if not graceful, motions that resembled the dance steps to a large degree.

It helped a lot that Wendy was quite good, and had learned the dance well already. She was also quick-reflexed and avoided any missteps that Harlen committed that might have resulted in crushed feet. When Harlen spun her back in from the extended outward fling, he used a bit too much force, though, and they both went stumbling when she slammed into his chest at speed with her back and shoulders. This drew a smattering of applause from other dancers nearby and a few catcalls from other huntsmen declaring Harlen the 'night's most graceful moose'.

Harlen long ago learned that women responded quite well to the attempt of a man to dance, something most men were just not trained to do. If a man danced well, he would find himself at the end of a long line of women waiting to dance, and never be able to spend any time with any one of them. However, if he was JUST good enough, he would manage to keep a partner for several dances, and then resulting conversation and, with luck, companionship.

Most of the elven women seemed to have no compunction about dancing with one another, even the stimulating 'high contact' dances that were more intimate than some.

This led to much muttering among small knots of huntsmen. At least, until Tammer explained that it might just be better for one or two men to get in there and wedge themselves between the women before they get too interested in one another. Then the huntsmen find themselves keeping their wineskin company for the night.

Hyandai had managed to cut in on Wendy and was now facing Harlen. They moved over the soft grass. "My brother approves of you now," she said, smiling up at him.

"I'm glad. I was hoping I wouldn't have to tie him up for the wedding," replied Harlen, glancing over at Ceriandel, who was speaking to Maegan and Tessa again. He appeared to be unsuccessfully avoiding being fussed over by the two much-taller women.

She giggled. "I might pay good money to see that," admitted Hyandai.

The tempo of the gathering dropped down a notch. Many of the revelers broke off to watch the prisoners being escorted into a makeshift stockade by their huntsman guards. The added fifty humans among the gathering shifted the numbers where the human attendees outnumbered the elven now. Ten humans and ten elves were assigned to keep watch over the prisoners, and they rotated out every hour to ensure that everyone got a chance to enjoy most of the gathering.

The imprisoned Isolationists were beside themselves at the sight of humans and elves intermingling in a large group. They hurled curses and insults until a loyalist wizard silenced the lot of them with a well-placed spell that knocked them all unconscious. This drew cheers from all assembled for the somnamancer, who was given a hero's welcome back to the festivities.

By the time the moon was at the peak of its path, the number of celebrants was much reduced. Some were to be found scattered about the grounds, in various states of repose. More, it seemed, had wandered away from the main gathering in pairs.

Hyandai bit her lip while she guided Harlen and Wendy up the stairs toward her chamber.

"Something bothers you, beloved?" asked Harlen.

She gave a hesitant smile. "I was just doing some calculations in my head, dear," she replied. "I hope the village will not mind about half a dozen births in about nine months, perhaps more, given human fecundity."

Harlen blinked at her a moment.

"Humans get pregnant easier, or rather," corrected Hyandai, "make elves pregnant more readily than other elves would."

"A half dozen, half elven children?" asked Wendy.

Hyandai nodded, and smiled. "Only we call them half human."

"Perhaps that is one of the obstacles that needs to be overcome," Harlen said, his eyes distant. "They won't be half of anything. The name is misleading, from both sides."