He gave me a small pat on the shoulder and then dug into his rucksack to dress himself. His robes were dark, rich red and embellished with gold threads. Expensive leather sandals graced his feet, and his earring was slid back through the hole in the tip of his ear. He looked regal. I, on the other hand, was soggy with seaweed stuck in delicate places. Fortunately, the role of guardian did not require a refined ensemble. My sword, shield, and armor were my calling card.
“I suspect they know that we have arrived,” Teryn announced with volume, his voice carrying down a tunnel lit with flickering torches.
Several forms stepped from the shadows, tallest among them Jaska Ashwish. Immediately, I noted that the people here were not just Sandrayan. All manner of commoners stood at his side. Those from the Black Sands, the woods of the Glotte, the Witherhorn Mountains, and even the hardy russet-skinned people of the Bhaston Tundra stood shoulder to shoulder with the pale elves of the mainland. My hand went for the hilt of my sword as I lifted my shield, taking a protective step in front of Teryn.
“The Peacemaker and the Bronze Warrior. Welcome to our humble abode,” Jaska called, his arms out as if he were welcoming us to a palace.
Teryn placed a hand on my arm, stepping around me, his amber eyes meeting mine. “There is no need for worry. These people wish to speak to us, not battle us.” His sight left mine to land on Jaska—unarmored and without weaponry—waiting patiently as if he had ample time. Which he did. At the moment, he held all the cards in this game. “That is correct, is it not, Jaska Ashwish?”
“Aye, that is correct,” the large elf replied, his short blond hair still neatly clipped to his head as a royal guard would wear it. He was a large man, stalwart, and a vile kidnapper. “If we wished you dead, you would be dead by now.”
“The witch in the desert certainly gave it her best try,” I replied, still on guard, my sword at the ready. This was not an ideal situation. Fifteen enemies before us and a sheer drop to our death behind. Amended to my death for Teryn could sprout feathers.
“She was acting of her own accord,” Jaska was quick to reply. “Her role was to merely ride along to gather information if possible. To keep an eye on you two. I have notes written to her, and her replies, if you wish proof. Killing the envoy would do us little good.”
Teryn stepped forward, hand out. I tensed as he strode to Jaska. “I wish to believe your words to be true. No peace can ever be reached if the two sides cannot show good faith.”
Jaska strode out of the mass of rebels, clasped Teryn’s forearm, and shook it soundly. “Thank you, Mahouk. We wished no harm to anyone. We simply needed a way to show the ruling classes that our needs, the wants of the poor, cannot be ignored yet again.”
“Stealing a pair of innocents was your best plan?!” I barked, striding up with fire in my heart. Jaska stood his ground as I closed the distance, his hand falling from Teryn’s.
“Pasil…” Teryn warned, but I pushed my chest into the man who had caused such grief. I would not be called off, not now. I had watched those children grow from squalling infants to hearty toddlers filled with grace, good humor, and inquisitive minds.
“Ripping them from their nursery in the dark of night, drugging an old religious woman and a royal guard who is a noble, trustworthy protector that stands head and shouldersabove you even though her frame is small. I should run you through for nearly killing her.”
“That was unfortunate,” Jaska replied calmly. A rumble went through the masses at his back, the tension rising quickly. “We meant no harm to the pixie. I have always enjoyed her company. She fares well, I hear from my sources.”
“No thanks to you,” I snarled, itching to plunge my blade into his chest just to eradicate the smugness he oozed. “I will see the children.Now. The ambassador will not sit at a table with you until we are assured that the prince and princess are hale and unharmed. And mark my words, if either of the twins has even a scratch on their arm, I will rip through this throng of accomplices of yours like they were wheat falling to the scythe.”
“We have no doubt that you could, Slayer of Yeti.” For once, I did not argue that moniker. His gaze held mine for a long moment before he spoke to those behind him. “Fetch the prince and princess.”
“Pasil, you may step back now.” Teryn’s smooth voice somehow managed to wiggle into the red haze. I took a step back, weapons at the ready, eyes locked with the man who had betrayed us all. Jaska did not flinch, but I did notice the deep inhalation he took. So not as unaffected as he wished his followers to think. Good. Skewering the traitorous slug would please me greatly.
“Let us go to the main cavern. We have wine and cheese, a fire, and a table set up for the talks,” Jaska offered, waving an arm at the tunnel as if he were the head server at a royal dinner. “I am aware that the fare is not what you would find at the table of the grand advisor, but we are not able to procure delicacies such as rare pink oysters or tundra ox roasts that set the working elf back a thousand gold per platter.”
“We go nowhere until we see the children,” I stated, planting my feet.
“So be it,” Jaska replied and then turned at the sound of a high-pitched squeal. The people parted to allow Prince Al’fur and Princess Alfina to race to us. For them, I lowered my shield and slid my sword into its scabbard. The two flung themselves at me, clinging to my shoulders as I lifted them from the damp rocky ground to hug them. Tears rolled down their pink cheeks.
“Captain Pasil!! Did you bring Papa and Mama?” Princess Alfina asked, her face buried into my neck just as her brother’s was. They smelled clean and appeared to be in good health. Scared, surely, but unharmed. The bastard who had taken them should be counting his blessings. Her brother, always a bit shyer, whimpered into my shoulder around his thumb.
“I did not, for we had to travel quickly, and you know how slowly the queen moves in the morning,” I teased and got a tiny nod of a gold head. Alfina lifted her head to stare into my soul. “I am so glad to see you, Princess. And your brother. Have you been treated well?”
“They fed us stinky fish with eyeballs, but the cheese was good. Can we go home now? We miss our kitten,” she said with utmost sincerity.
“We will go home soon,” I promised, my sight flying to Jaska as if to dare him to say otherwise. He did not. He merely waved a hand to indicate a move into the cave. I glanced at Teryn, smiling at us with damp eyes. “This is a friend of your parents. Do you remember meeting Mahouk Nouradi at the castle?”
Both shook their blond heads. Al’fur mumbled something about a monkey eating a banana as we made our way deeper into the sea cave. It was damp. The stone walls slick from the moist sea air. Small alcoves of rock popped up here and there, the interiors dark aside from one, which had a single torch lighting a box in the middle of the craggy grotto. A box of plundered goods, perhaps?
“Did anyone harm you?” I asked the twins as the gloom of the long walkway slowly gave way to a large inner chamber, with rounded rock walls and sleeping pallets laid out around small cooking fires. A larger fire burned in a stone circle—several large fish being cooked over the flames on spits—burned brightly. About fifty people watched us. Some the greeting party, some small children or teens, and some elderly. No two were alike, as opposed to Celear, where all the noble elves had a similar look of elegance. There was not an elegant face among them. Just common faces, hungry faces, tired faces.
“No.” The princess rode on my right hip, her brother on my left. “We had warm milk and woke up on a boat. The sea was big. Grandpapa’s guard,” she looked right at Jaska, “told us we were going to a new land on an adventure.”
“I like adventures,” Al’fur said and shoved his thumb back into his mouth as Jaska and Teryn made their way to a deeply worn round table with two chairs. Bottles of wine, round wheels of cheese, and a few dark loaves of bread sat atop wooden platters. I took a step toward the table to taste the fare, but Jaska placed a hand on my breastplate. A low snarl rolled out of me.
“The food is not poisoned,” he said, waving a small boy from the masses. The child ate some bread and cheese, washed it down with wine, and then burped.
“It’s good, Papa!” the towheaded boy exclaimed and darted back to a young Sandrayan woman who was heavily pregnant. She gathered her son to her side. I had never known that Jaska had a child, let alone a woman from the Black Sands.
