Chapter 9

Catty was lost.

Not physically. The Elven Queen knew exactly where she was in time and space. She sat on a small bed on the second floor of a wooden building near a new human city. Her bare body occupied the exact middle of the quilt covered mattress, legs crossed before her. No, she knew where she was.

It was mentally, emotionally, and spiritually that she was lost.

She shifted a bit. The fabric was coarse against her skin. Stupid, barbarian humans.

It was their fault.

All their fault.

Their fault Mother was gone. Sister was gone. Country was...

No. That was the stupid, barbarian Elves' fault.

Catty had always been the emotional one. Quick to anger, quick to love. Where her mother and sister had sought peace, knowledge, understanding, she had flitted around them, a playing kitten to their knowing lionesses. They were the rock, the foundation on which her whole life had been secured.

Now she was adrift.

She didn't even know what she was doing here. The plan, her plan, had been to trick the humans into letting them come, get the book, cure her sister, then flee. Now, Jaka was dead, she had told the human King the truth- why had she done THAT? Certainly, it had not been part of the plan. Lies. She had wanted to tell lies. Lies were all these short eared people deserved.

No ... no. That wasn't right. They were ugly others, but that did not mean they should be treated worse than animals. Worse than some, yes. Obviously. But like the better class of animal, they had feelings, maybe even souls. At worst, they were to be disregarded, ignored.

Yet here she was.

There was a knock on the door.

"Your Highness?"

It was Far. Catty jerked her head down, looking herself over. Undressed, there was not much she could do to make herself more presentable, but she found her hands quickly trying to arrange her small breasts, half willing them to be firmer. Giving that up as a lost cause, she sent her thin fingers through her hair, giving the long red strands a hurried, mirror-less comb. Heart beating faster, she turned towards the door, forcing herself to be calm.

"Enter."

The Elven soldier entered. As always, when first seeing him, her eyes drank in his face. It was strong. Firm. Oval, almost, longer than most other males. A flat nose sat high up, separating two of the blackest eyes the Queen had ever seen. Even the iris, white on most of her kind, was more grey, lending a mystical cast to the low born Elf. His ears extended half their length above his head, coming to the most perfect points.

She watched him half turn, closing the door behind him. His limbs were slender, strong. Wiry. He wore just a cloth kilt, red, leaving his well muscled chest bare. And his back. Often she had stared at Far's back as the soldier did some work on behalf of her or her sister. Often she had tried to understand her feelings as she watched him. Thought of him. Dreamed of him.

Far turned to her, head bowing.

"Your Highness."

"Catty," she said, biting her lower lip. "Please. I'm not a Queen, not..." She couldn't say "not with you". Couldn't because she did not know what that would mean. Why could she never THINK around him?

"You are our Queen, Catty," Far said, smiling. "A good one."

She looked away, eyes unseeing.

"If I had been a better Princess..." She shook her head, returning her gaze to him. "Is everything OK?"

"Well enough. If we could have brought more from the house, instead of carrying that dead human..."

"He was the price of our passage," she said. "We left nothing behind we can't do without, or replace." She looked down at his kilt, her cheeks feeling warm. "I see some clothing was hidden among the satchels."

"Very little," he said, smiling. She saw his sharp yellow teeth come into view. "Maybe they will give us fabric. You will need something warm."

Her cheeks got even hotter, a dozen responses rising up inside her. Catty ducked her head, eyes focusing on her lap.

Moments passed in silence.

"I don't know what to do," She said, at last. Catty looked up, finding Far still standing near the door. "I was going to save Jaka, and, now..."

The soldier, HER soldier, sighed, moving around the empty bed beside her, sitting on its edge facing her. He leaned forward, arms on his knees.

"Either we go back, take sides in this war our countrymen are fighting..."

"They are NOT my countrymen! None of them!" Catty felt herself almost growling. "I'm not going back to them! Never!"

"OK," Far said, nodding, face serious. That's why she ... liked him. Yes. Liked him. He treated her like an adult. "Well, that leaves us with the only other option."

"What's that?"

"We start over."

Catty felt her body explode in unknowable feelings. Start over. Just like...

"Zea. Ger."

He nodded gravely.

"Just like Zea and Ger. We start a new nation, like our ancestors did when they found themselves in this land. You, Catty, will be our new Queen Zea, and we..." She saw him blush. It sent a rush through her. Far gave a small laugh. "Anyway, that's for later. For now, we play nice with the humans. Don't scare them too much." Now it was Catty's turn to laugh. Far grinned back. "We talk the young King into giving you the book, and then you can study it and decide our next move."

"I can do that," she said, confidence growing. He smiled.

"I know you can, my Queen."

The room Catty sat in, awaiting the King, was surprisingly bright, comfortable. Large windows ran along the northern wall, sunlight pouring into the rectangular chamber. It had the feel of a soldier's common room, a place for those facing death to relax, ignore their fate for another day, yet was like none she had ever seen. This was a room built by one who cared for her men. Cared for the soldiers they would be sending to be slaughtered. That Polish animals would create such a place...

Catty squirmed in her chair. It was not uncomfortable, not in the way the Kikker chairs had been. Elf and Pole were similar enough in that way, as loath as she was to think about it. She was just tired of waiting. Turning, she glanced once again at her four followers arrayed behind her. Their armor had been returned, Far looking splendid in his leather vest and kilt. A dozen Polish soldiers, armed, stood casually around the edge of the room. The brown skinned woman was with them, another armored female by her side. Female soldiers. These people were animals. The brown one, Shanna, came over.

"Anything you need, Your Highness? Something to drink?"

"Water?" Catty was so glad the spell was holding. Languages had never been something she had been able to learn, unlike her sister. Like Mother, Catty trusted in magic. Magic, she could control.

Something outside caught her eye. Through the windows, she saw a small group of riders entering the fort. They had wings of white and red feathers on their back.

Her eyes narrowed. Hussars. Evil Winged Hussars. Devils on horseback. It was said they mated with birds, the wings a sign they had consummated their immoral lust. Their bastard offspring were the Harpies of the north, foul eaters of carrion. To think she, an Elven Queen, was within even a day's walk of such creatures. Truly, the Spirits were testing her.

As the winged ones dismounted, she saw the Polish King with them. Memories of the previous day came to her, shame rising in the girl. She had let the Polock hold her. Comfort her. That was ... wrong. Degrading. She had to be strong. Strong like a Queen should be. She watched, silently, as the King walked towards the building, passing out of view. Catty closed her eyes, breathing deeply. Calm. Calm...

"Good day, Lady Catty."

The Polish King gave a slight bow, a smile on his face. She returned the smile, remaining seated. Behind him, one of the Hussars stood in the doorway, wings extending up above his blond head. Her smile faded, eyes telling her a lie. It had to be a lie. This ... she knew that one. That Polock. He had been with the humans who had brought her here. He had not worn his wings, so she had not known him for one of the defilers of birds. She had been on the same ship with him! Catty suddenly felt dirty. She needed to wash. The dusty filth of these people felt thick on her skin.

Catty blinked. All eyes were on her. Focus. She had to focus. Smiling again, she picked up the glass on the stand beside her. The cool water did wonders to calm her. Sending her attention again to the King, she saw he was already seated in a chair in front of her. Five feet of plush carpet separated them. She wished it was five thousand. He leaned forward, a position of power, confidence. She sat up straighter as he spoke.