How to Love Your Elf Page 3

  “Indeed,” the general agreed. “The artists here are definitely inferior to what we’re accustomed to.”

  “Look at this monstrosity.” The younger elf’s voice sounded very near, and Sorcha guessed he was standing only a foot away from her. “I guess these barbarians think the bigger the better.”

  “I suppose so,” the father murmured. From his footsteps, he seemed to be pacing about the room.

  “Did you see how many jewels they crammed onto those gaudy thrones? It took all my willpower not to wrench the princess off—”

  “Watch what you say, Griffin,” the general interrupted. “The walls could have ears.”

  The colonel was silent for a moment. “I think I did hear someone up in the minstrels’ loft.” He knocked on the paneling. “This seems solid enough, though. Besides, I don’t think any of these barbarians understand Elfish.”

  Sorcha smirked. Think again, bastard.

  Griffin pounded a fist harder on the paneling. “It’s bloody unfair! The princess was promised to me!”

  “Relax,” the general grumbled. “We must remain patient. So far, the plan has worked well.”

  “Not well enough,” Griffin whined. “It’s bad enough I have to take that half-breed after she’s already been bedded, but now she’s with child!”

  “Calm yourself,” his father growled. “A babe is not difficult to get rid of. It is her freakish husband that will be the problem. ”

  Sorcha pressed a hand against her mouth to keep from making a sound.

  The door creaked open, and a servant murmured in Norveshki, “Excuse me, my lords, I have brought your refreshments.”

  “Pour me a cup and be quick about it,” the general ordered in the same language. “Then take us to our rooms.”

  “Yes, my lords.”

  After a few minutes, footsteps clumped on the wooden floor and the door closed.

  Sorcha held her breath for a minute longer, making sure the elves were truly gone.

  “Did you understand what they were saying?” Annika whispered in the dark.

  “Yes.” Sorcha inhaled deeply. The elves planned to capture Gwen and murder her brother. “When Silas and Gwen travel to the border, we must go with them.”

  “All right,” Annika agreed.

  Sorcha pressed her fingers to her thumbs, making two circles that signified the twin moons. Goddesses, hear my vow. I will not stand by, feeling helpless once again, when my loved ones are in danger. Never again.

  Chapter 2

  “Are you all right?” Sorcha asked Gwen as she pressed a hand to her stomach.

  “Are you feeling nauseated again?” Annika asked.

  It was two weeks later, and Gwen was now certain that she was, indeed, with child. “I’m fine. A little nervous, that’s all.” She touched the silver necklace she was wearing. The gift from her mother. “After twenty-one years, I’m finally meeting my mother.”

  “I’m sure everything will go well,” Sorcha said, even though she was nervous, too.

  The three women were alone, sitting around a camp table inside the royal tent, just north of the Vorus River, which served as a boundary between Norveshka and Woodwyn. The meeting had been set for this evening at sunset. Gwen, Silas, and a dozen guards were to walk halfway across the nearby bridge. Gwen’s mother, along with General Caladras and a few guards, would meet them there.

  Annika patted Gwen’s hand. “It’ll be fine. There’s not enough room on the bridge for an actual battle.”

  Gwennore winced, and Sorcha shot her cousin an annoyed look. “That’s not helpful.”

  Annika scowled back at her. “You’re the one who told us what the general and his son said. Obviously, we cannot trust those two.”

  “I don’t. I don’t trust any of those elves.” After all, it was a well-known fact that the elves had a nasty habit of attacking villages in Eberon and Norveshka for no apparent reason other than a vicious desire to maim innocent people and destroy their homes. Sorcha leaned forward, her elbows on the table. “But I do trust my brother. He’s not going to let them kidnap Gwen.”

  “If they try something, it will be the end of the truce,” Annika muttered. “We’ll be at war again.”

  “Enough.” Gwen rubbed her stomach. “I want to have positive thoughts about today.”

  “Of course. Sorry.” Sorcha exchanged a sheepish look with her cousin.

  After hearing the general’s conversation with his son, Sorcha had quickly passed on the information to Silas and Gwen. Then, with newly inspired determination, she’d joined the army and spent the last two weeks laboring hard to learn her combat skills. She was now battered and bruised, but fairly adept at defending herself.

  She and Annika had been named Queen Gwennore’s official ladies-in-waiting, but in reality, they were her bodyguards. Even now, they were both in uniform with daggers strapped to their thighs and hidden in their boots.

  “I don’t care what Silas says,” Sorcha told Gwen. “I’m going on that bridge with you.”

  Annika nodded. “Me, too.”

  Gwen’s eyes glimmered with tears as she looked at them. “What would I do without you two?”

  Sorcha sighed. Gwen seemed to cry over nothing these days.

  “When I think about how much Silas and I love each other and how much we want this baby”—Gwen looked down at her belly—“I can’t imagine the pain and hardship my mother went through. The man she loved was executed. Her newborn baby was ripped from her arms and sent away. Then she was locked in a tower for seven years. How does someone survive that much cruelty?”

  Sorcha wasn’t sure how to respond, for she wasn’t convinced the sad story was even true. Granted, she had very little experience with elves, but from what she did know of them, it seemed abundantly clear that they could not be trusted. “We only have the general’s word that your mother suffered,” she began quietly, but Gwen shook her head.

  “My mother explained everything.” Gwen reached across the table to open the jeweled keepsake box that she had brought with her on the journey. “It’s all in here.” She removed the letter her mother had written.

  “May I?” Sorcha extended a hand.

  Gwen paused a minute, then passed her the letter. “It’s in Elfish, but you should be able to understand it.”

  Sorcha unfolded the paper and quickly scanned the contents. It did, indeed, chronicle a tragic story as Gwen’s mother described the heart-wrenching pain of being separated from her baby, and how she’d spent the last twenty-one years missing her daughter and praying daily for her safety and wellbeing.

  Gwen watched her carefully. “What do you think?”

  Sorcha hesitated. Knowing Gwen as well as she did, she figured her sister had focused on the words and their meaning. But Sorcha had always been better at artwork than composition. She leaned back in her chair and eyed the letter from the viewpoint of an artist.

  The script was elegant and flowing. Bold and carefree. Not what she would expect from someone who had been imprisoned or suffered for many years. It made her suspicious, but then again, she could be letting her distrust of elves color her interpretation.

  She knew all too well that she and her sisters had grown up with the pain of having been abandoned as wee babes. Fortunately for Sorcha, she’d learned several months ago that her mother had sent her away to protect her from a curse and a plague. Knowing that her mother had always loved her meant the world to Sorcha.

  Of course Gwennore wanted the same for herself. Who wouldn’t? The hopeful look on her face tugged painfully at Sorcha’s heart. It would be petty to let her suspicions spoil what might turn out to be a beautiful and joyful reunion.

  She folded the letter and handed it back. “It seems sincere.”

  “I think so, too.” With a smile, Gwen returned the letter to her keepsake box.

  Please don’t let her be hurt, Sorcha prayed to the twin moon goddesses.

  “Your Majesty?” Aleksi’s voice called from the entrance to the tent. “Permission to enter?”

  “Yes,” Gwennore responded.

  Sorcha rose to her feet, worried that something had gone wrong with the plan, but to her surprise, the captain entered with his arms filled with flowers.

  He bowed his head, his nose bumping into a bouquet of yellow and orange blossoms. “Your Majesty, my ladies, I . . . I . . . ah . . . ahchoo!”

  Petals flew at Gwen’s face, and she sat back.

  “Is this a new method of attack?” Sorcha asked wryly.

  “Forgive me.” Aleksi bowed his head again. “Where can I put . . . ahchoo!”

  “For Light’s sake, get your nose out of them.” Jumping to her feet, Annika grabbed the now-bedraggled flowers and dumped them on the table.

  Gwennore smiled at the captain. “Since Annika and I are both happily married, I can only assume that you intend Princess Sorcha to be the recipient of your lovely gift?”

  Aleksi’s eyes widened, and Sorcha groaned inwardly. Gwen was still trying her hand at matchmaking. As fond as Sorcha was of Aleksi, he had always seemed like an older brother to her. Much the same as Brody.

  Aleksi shifted his weight as he shot an awkward look at Sorcha. “Well, if Her Highness wants some flowers—”

  “I don’t,” Sorcha grumbled.

  Gwen gave Sorcha a disapproving glance at her refusal to cooperate. “Surely there is something that Aleksi could do that would impress you.”

  Sorcha thought about it, then smiled. “I’d like to go for another flight.” He’d taken her for a dragon ride once, and she’d loved it.

  He grinned. “We can do that.”

  “Excellent.” Gwen exchanged a knowing smirk with Annika.

  Sorcha rolled her eyes. No doubt the two of them thought romance was in the air. Aleksi was
a handsome young man, but he could never pierce the defenses of her locked up and closely guarded heart. No man could. “So why did you bring all these flowers?”

  “They’re for Her Majesty,” Aleksi explained. “A group of women and their husbands came from Vorushka and asked me to deliver the flowers to the queen. The women are all with child now, and they and their husbands asked me to convey their gratitude.”

  Gwennore rose to her feet, her eyes wide. “The tonic worked?”

  “Yes!” Annika punched the air with her fist. “We did it!”

  With a happy squeal, Gwen hugged Annika; then Sorcha embraced them both. The tonic, invented by Gwen and Annika, had been made in hopes of reversing the effects of a plague that had rendered most Norveshki women infertile.

  “Congratulations,” Aleksi said, grinning at them.

  “Oh.” Annika stepped back, releasing Gwen. “You should rest. You were nauseated before.”

  Gwen shook her head. “I feel much better now.” She snatched up some flowers and tossed them in the air. “This is going to be a wonderful day!”

  With a laugh, Sorcha tossed more flowers in the air. Petals rained down on them, landing on their hair and shoulders.

  Aleksi grabbed a bunch of flowers to join them just as Silas and Dimitri marched into the tent. He immediately stood at attention, along with Annika and Sorcha, but when he thumped his fist to his chest in salute, he crushed the flowers against his leather breastplate. “Ahchoo!”

  Silas gave him a wry look, then glanced at the women.

  Gwennore beamed at him. “We can explain.”

  Sorcha brushed the petals off her long braid of hair. “A bunch of grateful women gave the flowers to Aleksi. They’re with child now.”

  Dimitri looked askance at Aleksi. “You dog.”

  “What?” Aleksi’s face turned red. “I didn’t . . .”

  Gwennore laughed. “The tonic worked, Silas. Women are getting pregnant.”

  “By their husbands,” Aleksi added, and Dimitri snorted.

  “That is good news,” Silas said, and Sorcha wondered why his strained smile didn’t reach his eyes.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  He withdrew a letter from beneath his leather vest. “This message was secretly passed to one of our guards on the bridge. I couldn’t read it, since my Elfish is very limited, but I recognized the name at the bottom. Princess Jenetta.”

  “My mother.” Gwennore grabbed the letter and unfolded it.

  Sorcha peered over her shoulder to read the contents.

  “She wants to meet us in secret an hour before sunset,” Gwennore translated.

  “An hour before the meeting on the bridge?” Dimitri asked.

  “Yes.” Gwennore continued, “My mother says we can’t trust the general and his son.”

  Sorcha snorted. “We already knew that.”

  “But she’s admitting it’s true?” Annika asked.

  Gwennore nodded. “She wants a secret meeting in order to assure our safety. She says three miles east of here, the river is only a foot deep and we can cross easily on horseback. She will have refreshments for us in a tent about a mile south of the river.”

  Silas stiffened. “That’s in Woodwyn.”

  “She’s trying to lure us across the border,” Aleksi muttered.

  Dimitri nodded. “It could be a trap.”

  “No.” Gwen dropped the letter on the table. “According to my mother, the trap was supposed to happen on the bridge. This is her way of keeping us safe.”

  Sorcha grabbed the paper and read it once again. Gwennore’s interpretation seemed to be correct, but suspicion gnawed at her gut.

  “Aleksi, fly over the elfin encampment, then go three miles east to where the princess is setting up her tent,” Silas ordered. “See if any soldiers are moving toward the new meeting point.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” Aleksi saluted and hurried from the tent so he could shift into a dragon.

  “You don’t trust my mother,” Gwen said with a hurt voice.

  Silas winced. “I can’t risk losing you.”

  “But why would she cause me any harm?” Gwen argued. “She’s heir to the Woodwyn throne. How could she possibly benefit by hurting me?” When Silas was silent for a moment, Gwen pressed harder. “Since she’s going to be the queen of Woodwyn, shouldn’t we try to have a good relationship with her?”

  With a frown, Silas dragged a hand through his hair.

  “Shouldn’t my mother know she’s going to have a grandchild?” Gwennore pleaded with tears in her eyes. “Please, Silas. I just want to see her for a few minutes. Isn’t there some way we can do this?”

  Silas shifted his weight. “If Aleksi doesn’t spot any elfin soldiers around your mother’s tent, we could try crossing the river. But we would need several troops of soldiers with us.”

  Dimitri gritted his teeth. “We can’t do that. It would be seen as an invasion. They would have every right to attack us.”

  “We would carry white flags of truce,” Gwennore suggested, then motioned to the message, written by her mother. “And we’ll take this letter with us, since it clearly invites us into the country.”

  “The general will attack first and ask questions later,” Annika muttered.

  “If the general is still expecting to meet us on the bridge at sunset, he won’t be anywhere close to this secret meeting,” Gwennore insisted. “Please, I want to do this.”

  Silas sighed, and Sorcha knew he was going to cave in. It was too hard for him to refuse his wife anything.

  “If you do it, then I’m going, too,” Sorcha declared.

  “Me, too,” Annika added. “We’re her official bodyguards. It’s our duty to protect her.”

  Silas gave the women a wry look. “You’re going to insist on doing this, aren’t you?” When they all nodded, he let out a groan. “Fine, but I’ll have Lieutenant Kashenko go in first with an entire troop. And we’ll have another troop behind us. At the first sign of trouble, I’ll shift and fly Gwennore back across the border. Dimitri, you will shift and take Annika. Aleksi will take Sorcha. As long as we stay close to the border, we can be back in Norveshka in just a minute or two.”

  Dimitri nodded. “That should work.”

  Sorcha took a deep breath and exchanged a look with her cousin. They were going! But even as excited as she was, there was something about the plan that didn’t seem right.

  “Be ready to leave within a half hour,” Silas told them. “I’ll have Kashenko ready the troops.”

  As he and Dimitri ducked under the low entrance to the tent, Sorcha realized what was bothering her and rushed forward to stop her brother.

  “Silas,” she whispered, touching his sleeve. “If we come under attack and you and the others have to shift, the elfin army will see you. They’ll know your secret.”

  He nodded. “It’s a risk we’ll have to take in order to keep you safe. Besides, I have a feeling it’s no longer a secret. The Chameleon probably told them. That gift they gave us was a strong hint.”

  The carved dragon with the ruby eyes. Sorcha winced.

  “It will be all right.” Silas gave her a smile and a pat on the shoulder. “Trust me.”

  She smiled back, but her smile faded as he rushed after Dimitri. What if Gwen’s mother had orchestrated this meeting to make it look as if she was trustworthy when in actuality, she wasn’t? The elves not only wanted to kidnap Gwen, but they wanted to be rid of Silas. What if this was a trap designed to achieve both ends?

  * * *

  Perched high on a thick branch of an oak tree, the Woodsman scanned the elfin army encampment on the flat plain below. His spy had sent him a message late last night that the camp would be empty and easily infiltrated this afternoon. And so, he and his men were now hidden on a high ridge overlooking the camp.

  To the north, farther than he could see, the Vorus River marked the boundary with Norveshka. How long would the truce last this time? Not long if that bastard, General Caladras, had his way.

  The Woodsman turned his attention back to the elfin camp below and spotted several guards standing stiffly at attention in front of officer tents. He wasn’t the only one interested in the camp today. On his way here, he’d spied one of the Norveshki dragons flying overhead.

  It was gone now, and the camp was quiet. Too quiet. And too still.