When Elves Die : Episode One
CHAPTER 10
The castle of Wandacove anchored the horizon as the elves of Graceonna welcomed visitors from other tribes. During festival week, they held various events like jousting and horse racing. Elves filed in from several different tribes as the festivities began.
The Dark Queen arrived with Tholan at the edge of town. She could smell the herbs, spices and meats being cooked. The sounds of celebratory horns and laughter from the village set Ravalynn on edge. She couldn't wait to bring misery into the lives of the elves.
Ravalynn dismounted from her horse and tethered it to a tree just outside the village.
“Do you see that window?” A ferocious grin split the Dark Queen's face. “The one at the very top? I am going to hang Carella by her own silk sheets and dangle her dead body for all to see.”
Ravalynn checked to make sure she had a dagger hidden in her boots. Pulling out a vial from the pouch on her horse's saddle, she held the potion to the sunlight.
Mouthing soundless words over the vial, she kissed it and placed the potion in her pocket.
Dead leaves followed her feet as she made her way to the village of elves.
The two elves guarding the gate greeted everyone with an airy cheerfulness. Dressed in a halter top which showed off her cleavage and flat belly, Ravalynn caught the attention of the young guards as soon as she stepped in line.
“Hi,” the guard said, handing Ravalynn a parchment paper.
“Hi yourself,” she said. “This is my first visit to your fine village. I was wondering if either of you can show me around?”
Both elves looked in awe at Ravalynn, taken by her beauty.
“Well,” the taller one stammered. “We really cannot leave our posts. And the map is on the parchment I gave you.”
“But maybe we can make an exception,” the shorter one said.
“That won't be necessary,” Ricmorn called out.
The cleric leered at Ravalynn's cleavage as he interjected himself between the two young elves. “Welcome to Graceonna! I will gladly show you around town.”
“Well, that would be just grand,” Ravalynn said, winking at the cleric.
Thinking opportunity lost, the shorter elf kicked the dirt in frustration as he watched the raven haired beauty walk away, arm in arm, with the cleric.
“Some of the elves bring their own dishes. Some are prepared in the castle.” Ricmorn shot glances at Ravalynn's breasts whenever he could. “The festival doesn't really start in full bloom until mid-week. It ends on Sunday, with a jousting tournament. There will be hundreds of elves here.”
“I was wondering if you could show me around the castle?”
“I don't know,” he said. “Only a few are really allowed in. With the way things have been with the attacks, you know. We have had to make certain restrictions.”
“I understand.” Ravalynn rubbed his arm. “I just thought that we could be alone together and you can tell me more about the town. And yourself.”
Ricmorn blushed. “I suppose we can look around the castle a little bit.”
Two robust looking elves paced in front of the castle entrance.
“This is Gratil and Orogeon, two of our finest guards,” said Ricmorn.
They stood silent as the cleric led Ravalynn through the door.
The Dark Queen studied every detail of the castle's architecture. Multi-colored shafts of light shined through stained-glass windows. Ornate wooden chairs sat in the corners of the foyer.
Her eyes squinted as she gazed upon the rainbow of colors that adorned the castle walls into an artist's palette of hues.
Ravalynn needed darkness.
The paintings on the wall featured elves in various battle scenes. A portrait of Carella stood as the center piece. She fought back an urge to spit on the painting.
“As you may know there are a great many artists in the Kevfire tribe. I myself have painted a little,” he said, ogling Ravalynn's derriere as she turned her back on him. “I like to combine art with spirituality.”
The cleric swallowed hard as he caught a glimpse of the raven tattoo on the Dark Queen's lower back.
“Very nice,” she said as she took in a painting of a dragon attacking some elves.
“Indeed.” Sweat beaded on Ricmorn's forehead. “Like I said, I have dabbled in painting myself. I would love to have you as a subject.”
“I would be honored.”
They entered the kitchen pantry area. A pair of elves kneading dough nodded their heads in greeting.
“Our two finest chefs,” Ricmorn said. “Pandak and Arathon. They will prepare rare beef, vegetables and fruits. And we have some eel as well. Our fishermen got lucky this past weekend.”
“And upstairs?”
“Upstairs is forbidden, I'm afraid,” he said.
“The princess' quarters?”
Ricmorn nodded.
“Do you have a bathroom?” she asked.
“There is an antechamber down the hall and to the right,” he said. “But I'm afraid the moat has not been cleaned out in some time. I have to give you fair warning. It may be wise to hold your breath when you enter.”
Ravalynn made the right turn down the hall but opened a door that led to the side stairs.
She ascended the steps with excitement, reaching the top level. She opened another door which revealed a long, dusty corridor. Lined with statues, the Dark Queen knew that the figurines represented the warrior elves of Graceonna's past. Their eyes seemed to follow her as she walked down the hall.
Withdrawing her dagger, she reached a large door in front of the main stairwell.
Carella's bedroom.
Inside, she found a bed and little else. A painting of a cat framed the center wall. She rummaged through a drawer, hoping to find the book of Arcanscape.
Ricmorn waited in the castle foyer, pacing back and forth. He plotted what his next move would be with the raven haired beauty. There would be a feast later that day and he would invite her to dine with him. If he kept her wine glass full throughout the evening, then maybe...
A commotion coming from the castle entrance interrupted his lustful pattern of thought. Gratil and Orogeon stepped into the foyer, carrying a bloodied elf.
“What happened?”
“This man has escaped from the prison near Shaian,” Gratil said.
“So what are you bringing him in here for?” Ricmorn said. “Send him back to jail.”
“Everyone in the jail is dead,” the prisoner said.
“What?”
“The Killtooths. They massacred everyone. Every guard. Every prisoner. Their throats ripped open. I was in the pantry at the time of the attacks. There was this old elf in there who told me about a loose floorboard. I hid underneath until it was over.”
“If we find out you're lying,” Orogeon said.
“Visit the prison yourself. You will find a chamber of horrors that you will never forget. They showed no mercy. The Dark Queen came with them.”
“The Dark Queen?” Ricmorn asked.
“I saw only a glimpse of her. She came in after the Killtooths. Her hair was a dark purple and she had the blackest eyes. There was a tattoo on her back. A Raven. She was... The devil.”
Ricmorn led the guards through the castle. They entered the pantry first. The chefs reported seeing the black haired woman walk through the kitchen, muttering something under her breath.
They separated as they searched upstairs. Ricmorn timidly poked his head into each room. He feared what the Dark Queen could be capable of.
“Ricmorn!” Orogeon called out.
The cleric rushed toward the voice. He found the guard standing outside Carella's bedroom with his ear on the door. Gratil joined them.
“The door is locked,” Orogeon said. “From the inside. I heard someone moving around in there.”
Ricmorn backed away from the door and stood behind Gratil.
Both guards d
rew their daggers.
“We know you're in there,” Orogeon said. “There is no escape. Open this door and surrender yourself.”
Orogeon had his left hand on the doorknob and a dagger held high with his right.
They heard a rattling noise in the room.
“On the count of three,” Orogeon said to Gratil. The soldiers white-knuckled their daggers as Ricmorn took a couple of steps further back.
“One...two...three...”
Orogeon slammed his shoulder into the door. The sound of wood splintering could be heard but the entry remained shut. He tried again and the door blew off its hinges, propelling him to the floor.
Gratil leapt over his comrade with his dagger in hand.
A raven hopped on Carella's bed and crowed angrily at the elves.
The bird flew directly at Ricmorn. He held up his hands as the talons scraped his flesh.
Watching as the raven flew out the window, all three elves gagged at the smell of a large green dropping on the silk sheets.
Ricmorn ordered his men to have every home in the village searched. He then changed his mind as soon as he gave the command. The last thing Ricmorn wanted was for the elven folks to go into panic mode. Instead, he ordered the guards to patrol the immediate area outside the village for any sign of the Dark Queen.
Ravalynn raced ahead with Tholan through the valley until finally taking refuge a few miles away. The Dark Queen dismounted her horse and drank heavily from a flask of alcohol.
“Stole it from their kitchen,” she said, offering the drink to Tholan.
The barbarian took a sip. “Not bad.”
“I cast spells on their wine and food,” she said. “It is only a matter of time.”