Song

Of The Bow

By

Joyel Couch

 Song Of The Bow

It was all because of one little decree that Varchi was forced to retrieve
imaginary items from the waste pile. One, stupid decree.
Varchi sat on the baking ground, holding his breath in a vain attempt to
block out the horrid smell that rose in visible vapors. He rubbed the black
Mark on his neck; a constant reminder of why he had to follow the decree in
the first place. Casting a disgusted look around him, he went back to work,
searching the Captain’s “lost” pipe. Varchi knew the Captain was enjoying a
smoke from the missing pipe while Varchi looked for it.
A shadow fell on him, temporarily shading him from the unforgiving
rays. Looking up, he saw Duke Ahnager of Marveck standing over him with
crossed arms and a frown.
Though since the decree, the Duke had little more status than Varchi,
The Duke received a lot more negative attention from the soldiers because of
his once grand title. But for someone who grew up luxuriously, Varchi found
the Duke had adapted rather well to being publicly denounced by the King of
Rotheya and then sent to the Rotheyan colonies in Catam to serve as nothing
more than an errand boy for the Royal Army.
“Please tell me there’s tack to clean,” Varchi said, trying not to sound
over-eager.
The Duke glanced over his shoulder before speaking. “Hardly. Unless it
means you’re going to tell what you’ve been up to.”
Varchi’s heart began racing as he struggled to keep his composure.
“What do you mean?”
Varchi thought he heard the Duke growl, but he wasn’t certain.
“Don’t play games with me,” the Duke warned. “You know perfectly
well what I’m talking about. As soon as someone’s turned his back without
giving you orders, you take off and disappear for hours. You can play pretend
all you want with the soldiers’ ideas that you’ve found the perfect hiding spot,
but I know better.” He leaned closer. “You’re not hiding yourself, but you are
hiding something.”
Varchi’s palms started to sweat and it was difficult not to wipe them. He
returned the Duke’s intense gaze without blinking, keeping his face as relaxed
as possible. “What the heck do you think I’m doing? Fraternizing with the
Elves?”
At the mention of the enemy race a scowl flickered across the Duke’s
face. “I certainly hope not.”
“Well then, you don’t really have anything else to fear, do you?” Varchi
asked. “There’s not much else to do here. I’m up to nothing, really. Just
staying out of the way of the soldiers. Or else I get tasks like this.” He
gestured to all the piles around him.
Lying to the Captain and the soldiers about his whereabouts was one
thing, lying to the Duke was another. The Mark that Varchi, the Duke and any
other in the Army camp because of the decree bore on their skin bestowed to
them a certain power. While Varchi was highly aware of everyone’s abilities,
the Duke’s remained a mystery. If the Duke had the ability to detect lies or
read minds, he knew he was screwed.
The Duke narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Honesty is the best thing for
you right now,” he said, his voice cold. “If it’s discovered you’ve been lying
this whole, you better hope on your life that it’s something that will please the
Captain.”
“You’re suggesting that I’m lying in the first place,” Varchi retorted.
“Nothing can be discovered if there is nothing to hide.”
“Then why don’t I trust you?”
“Who do you trust?” Varchi shot back, standing up. “Certainly not your
own kind. But you seem to have some sort of attachment to the King, even
though he’s exiled you here merely because of a Mark on your cheek.”
The two stared at each other, silently daring the other to speak first.
Finally, the Duke said, “At least I know where my loyalties lie. I’m not
quite sure you do.” He was about to walk away when he said, “You had better
watch where you go. Being able to hear weapons isn’t always going to help
you.”
With that, the Duke turned on his heel and left. Varchi tried to keep his
expression as determined as possible, not wanting the Duke to know how
close to home he had come.
Even though the King had ripped every single Rotheyan Marked from
their home and dumped them into a warzone to serve as the slaves of the
soldiers, the Marked still did have certain patriotic stance for their homeland.
But the King was no longer the source of their pride.
Varchi was no longer sure that he still held the same pride. He looked
on past the piles of waste, towards the north. In the far distance he could see
the thick forest that guarded the country known as Lishea, which was
inhabited by the race of Elves. They were the enemies of Catam, he
constantly reminded himself. The Elves were trying to conquer all of the land.
But his mind wouldn’t fully accept the evilness the soldiers insisted the Elves
were made of.
But Lotus didn’t fit the description the soldiers gave any of the Elves.
And she was one of the Elven captains. At the very least, she wasn’t a ruthless
killer. In fact, the more Varchi got to know of her, the more he realized that she
was rather gentle.
Sighing, he took his eyes off the trees and looked at all the waste
surrounding him. Of course, if he didn’t find a way out of the pointless task
soon, his chance of seeing Lotus today would disappear.
Someone whistling a tuneless song caught his attention. He glanced up
and saw the person who would be his escape route. It was Krant.
Krant had the Mark on his hand, but power associated with the Mark
was denied him. Because of this, the soldiers tended to ignore him more. They
found no joy in abusing someone who was almost like them. Krant ended up
with more free time than he knew what to do with. He used it to mock the
other Marked, much to their annoyance, until they discovered he was easily
manipulated. They would entice him into games, betting the chores assigned
to them. Krant rarely won, and never caught on.
When Krant saw Varchi, he stopped and a wide grin spread on his face.
“Look who got stuck in the dung piles!” he called, laughing.
Varchi shrugged. “Just drew the short straw this time.”
“Oh, man, I’m not quite sure I want to know what you’re doing in
there,” he giggled.
“Actually, I’m finding something,” Varchi admitted.
Krant tilted his head. “Oh really? Like what?”
“Nothing much,” Varchi said, turning away. But Krant’s interest was
piqued and he wouldn’t back down.
“No, really, what?” he asked.
Varchi gave him a thoughtful look, pretending to mull over his answer.
“How bad do you want to know?”
Krant looked down at the piles, considering the question. “I really want
to know.”
“Alright, tell you what. If you can guess what it is in three tries, I’ll let
you know,” Varchi said. “But if you can’t, I’ll tell you what it is and you have
to search for it.”
 “Whoa, now. That isn’t fair. For starters, it could be anything. Also, I
don’t like what I’ll win if I guess correctly,” Krant said, frowning.
“Well then, what do you think you should get?”
Krant thought for a moment. “You have to do what I say for a week.” He
gave Varchi a satisfied smile.
Varchi shrugged. “Very well.”
“And I want some hints,” Krant said, crossing his arms.
“One for every guess,” Varchi said. “One, it belongs to the Captain.
Two, it’s something special of his. Three, it’s not very big.”
As Krant struggled, Varchi bit back some of his doubts. It felt like he
had given Krant too much. After all, the Captain’s pipe wasn’t a secret. Most –
if not, all- knew that the pipe was very special to the Captain. But then again,
he reminded himself, there were many things that were special to the Captain.
Also, Krant wasn’t known for his intelligence.
But there was still the chance that Krant would get lucky.
“Is it his sword?” Krant asked.
Definitely not known for his intelligence.
Varchi shook his head. “Two more.”
“Well, dang it!” Krant stroked his chin fiercely. “What about . . . his
button?”
Varchi made a face, wondering where that came from. “Uh, no. One
more.”
Krant crouched down, placing his head in his hands and muttering in
frustration. His popped up with a look of ecstasy. “I’ve got it!”
Varchi’s stomach sank. If Krant figured out it was the pipe, Varchi
wouldn’t be able to see Lotus for another week.
“It’s a love letter!”
Varchi’s jaw dropped slightly. Then a wave of relief swept through him.
“Nope! None of the above.”
Krant’s happy expression dissolved into one of sad shock.
“I’m looking for his pipe,” he said. He started to walk past Krant. When
he drew level, he stopped and said, “But not anymore, as that’s your task
now.”
Krant scowled at him. “And where are you going to go?”
 Varchi smiled. “Where I always do. Somewhere where the soldiers can’t
find me.”
Krant rolled his eyes. It appeared he was about to say something else,
but Varchi wasn’t keen on continuing the conversation. Waving at Krant, he
took off.
He zigzagged through the camp, dodging any of the soldiers who got in
his way. He constantly looked over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t being
followed. Every time he felt safe the Duke’s words came back to him and he
tensed.
Finally, finally, he arrived at the edge of the forest. His heart pounded
with excitement. Lotus was in there, he knew it.
Before entering the shade of the trees, he glanced behind him. He could
see no one, but that meant nothing. Especially with the Duke’s ability being a
mystery.
Shaking his head he stepped under the branches. The loud quiet of the
exposed world disappeared to the gentle hum of forest life. He paused again,
eyeing the camp through the leaves. It was difficult to believe that it had only
four months since he had met Lotus.
Four months. And yet it seemed like they were just getting to know each
other.
* * *
Healer’s Kiss. Healer’s Kiss.
He had seen it a million times before. Heck, he had even been taken
to its location many times by the army’s doctor.
So why couldn’t he find it now, when the doctor needed it most?
Varchi glanced around him, taking note of the notches in a nearby tree.
This was definitely where the doctor got his fresh herbs, but the most
valued plant couldn’t be found. He hesitated, wondering if he should return
and tell the doctor there was no more Healer’s Kiss. But the thought of the
consequences stopped him. The Captain’s life was on the line. Were it a
lesser soldier, Varchi would get off easier. But he had to find the Healer’s
Kiss at all costs.
He slowly turned to face the expanse of trees in front of him. Just a
little farther into the woods and Catam would end and the territory of the
Elves began. Varchi had a feeling that the Elves would not take kindly to an
enemy gathering herbs to heal his captain.
But according to the doctor, Varchi was standing in the one place in
Catam territory that contained Healer’s Kiss.
Varchi swallowed hard. Lishea it was, then. Taking a deep breath he
started forward.
It had now been an hour into his walk and he still hadn’t spotted any
Healer’s Kiss. At every noise he whipped around, searching for the source
with a pounding heart. But nothing ever revealed itself.
Just as he started to think that facing the doctor’s wrath was better
than going deeper into Lishean territory a bird cried out. The cry was so
close and so loud that it startled Varchi. He twisted around, his foot getting
caught on a tree root. He fell on his back, the wind forced out of him. As he
struggled to breathe he realized that he recognized the leaves his head had
fallen on. After air returned to his lungs, he sat up and inspected the plant.
Relief flooded through him. Once he dug up the Healer’s Kiss, he could
return to the safety of Catam. Happily, he set to work retrieving the Kiss.
Then he froze, hearing a song. It was the song of a weapon, but
foreign, like it was singing in a different language. Slowly, he turned
around to see who was there. But only forest life greeted him. He held his
breath in hopes of hearing better, but he could only hear the weapon’s song.
He determined the song was not threatening, but relaxed.
Cautiously, he went back to the plant. He paid careful attention to the
song, making sure it didn’t change suddenly.
When he had removed one Kiss from the ground, he noticed the song
became a duet. It was more intense now, as if holding its breath in
anticipation.
And then there was the release.
Varchi realized what it was and flung himself to the side. A loud
thunk! followed and an arrow appeared, embedded in the tree he had been
previously kneeling in front of. It quivered with the force with which it was
shot. Varchi could only stare at it in a terrified amazement about how close
he was to having his heart impaled. The song returned to a solo, and an
excited one at that.
He turned to the direction from where the arrow came. He could see
no one.
The song returned to a duet. His heart pounded hard against his ribs.
His brain told him to take the Kiss he uprooted and run. But running was a
bad idea. The arrow had almost hit him once- next time he didn’t think he’d
be so lucky.
The song became tense, preparing for another release.
 “Wait!” he cried.
The song faltered.
“Don’t shoot!”
There was another hesitation. Then the song relaxed, but remained
alert. One of the trees began rustling softly. Varchi held his breath, half
afraid, half curious as to what was in the tree.
A figure dropped from the branches and slowly straightened. When he
realized what he was looking at, all the air he was holding found a way out.
A female Elf stood before him, about his height. Long golden hair
that hung to her waist was pulled away from her face in a half ponytail.
She had bright, light purple eyes that stared at him with a quizzical
suspicion. Her face had sharper features as opposed to the soft round faces
Varchi often saw with the Rotheyan women. She had a lithe body which she
moved with cat-like fluidity. Moon-pale skin shone in the sunlight. Her
slim hands curled around an elegant bow, an arrow in place but not ready
to fire. More arrows sat waiting in a quiver on her back. But the only song
heard came from the bow and arrow she held. The song did not suggest
attack, but it was alert.
When she reached only a few feet away from him, she stopped.
“Esterga,” she said, motioning to the ground with her bow.
Confused, Varchi stared at her.
His lack of response seemed to annoy her. “Esterga!” she repeated,
gesturing to the ground again. When this still did not provide an answer,
her nostrils flared and she pulled up the bow with the arrow pointing at his
forehead. “Esterga,” she said again, her voice quiet.
Feeling she would most certainly shoot if he didn’t figure out what
she was saying, he dropped to his knees, hoping that was what she was
looking for.
Apparently it was, as she gave him a satisfied expression. She
glanced at the Healer’s Kiss he had dug up, then back to him.
“Kloergan?” she asked.
He looked at the plant, then up at her. “You mean the Healer’s Kiss?”
he said, pointing to it.
“Kloergan!”
“Fine, fine!” he said, throwing up his hands as the arrow waved
dangerously close to his face. He paused. “Kloergan,” he repeated, the
word feeling odd on his tongue.
She glared at him, her mouth twisted in an odd way. She remained
quiet for so long that he wondered if she was expecting him to speak.
Finally, she said, “Why?”
It took him a moment to realize that she had spoken in his language.
Her heavy accent made it difficult to understand.
“W-why?” he repeated. When she nodded, he continued, “You want
to know why I’m collecting Hea-ah, Kloergan?”
She tilted her head in confusion. She pointed to the plant. “Kloergan.
Why?”
Varchi bit his lip, trying to figure out a way to convey to her his
situation. “Um, I was sent to-” He stopped when her look of confusion
deepened. “Ah, someone,” he said, pointing in the direction of the border.
“Shot.” He mimed thrusting something sharp into his chest. “Uh, in
pain.”
Her look said she didn’t understand “in pain.”
“Agony?”
Not that one either.
He sat there, hands still wrapped around an invisible weapon
imbedded in his chest. “Um, ow?”
She gave him a look he couldn’t quite read. Then, she snorted.
Varchi stared at her as the snort became a fit of giggles.
“Ow,” she repeated. “Ow.”
It occurred to him that Elves probably didn’t use the same word to
express pain. “Ow” could even be word in their language that meant
something completely different.
Of all things he thought would happen if an Elf caught him in Lishea,
having her laugh at his word usage while he tried to explain being in pain
was not even one of them. The hilarity of the situation overcame any fear
and he found himself laughing with her.
For several minutes the two just stayed there, laughing. Then the Elf
took a deep breath and, brushing her hair over her shoulder, gave Varchi a
fierce look that was ruined by the laughter still in her eyes. In turn, Varchi
tried to be serious.
“So, yes,” he continued. “Someone. Shot. Injured.” He paused.
“Ow.” He imitated picking the Kloergan and rubbing it on his imaginary
wound. The Elf’s eyes lit up as she understood what “ow” meant.
Excitedly, she lifted her bow and aimed it at Varchi’s heart. “Ow?”
“Yes! Yes! Ow!” Varchi said, flinging up his hands to protect his
heart.
Having received her answer, a look of satisfaction crossed her face.
But she was far from done. Tapping her bow, she said, “Tablam?”
“Bow?” he asked. He imitated shooting one.
She shook her head. “Tablam.” She acted out using a sword, then
tapped her bow again.
“Oh, weapon? Tablam?” He pointed to the bow.
She nodded.
Then he pointed to the arrow. “Tablam?”
She gave him a look that said she wasn’t quite sure if the term fit.
Then she shrugged and said, “Tablam.”
He pointed to himself. “No tablam,” he said, shaking his head.
“Why?”
He pulled back the collar of his shirt to show her the Mark on his
neck. “No tablam,” he repeated.
Her eyes widened. She said something in her language too rapid for
him to pick out individual words. When she saw the lost look on his face,
she stopped talking. She pointed to him, tugged on her ear, pointed to
herself, then up at the tree where she had been hiding. Then she reached
out and tapped the Mark on his neck.
Had he heard her because of the Mark. He hesitated, wondering if it
was wise to tell an enemy the ability he was granted. But then again, he
didn’t fight. She couldn’t exactly use it to her advantage. He shook his
head, tugged on his ear and pointed to her bow.
Her expression was unreadable. Varchi waited for her to make a
decision. Her bow sang quietly to itself, which he took as a good thing.
Sighing, the Elf pointed to the Kiss he dug up and then to Catam.
“Go,” she said.
Her decision caught him off guard. He stood up tentatively, a part of
him wondering if she really meant it.
 His slow response frustrated her. She jabbed her finger towards
Catam more fiercely. “Go,” she firmly.
This time he wasn’t as hesitant. He scooped up the plant and took off.
When he was certain he had crossed the border, he stopped and
looked back. His hand gently touched his Mark as he remembered the
reaction she had upon seeing it.
It was fearless, unconcerned. She didn’t step back, she didn’t gasp,
she didn’t do anything except inquire if that was how he knew she was near.
It was so utterly different than how his own home town treated him. It
surprised him that the enemy, of all people, treated him no differently after
finding out he was Marked.
He realized that he had been gone for a near two hours. While there
would be relief that he had obtained Healer’s Kiss, taking so long to do so
would get him punished. He raced off to the camp, but his mind was still
back in the forest where the Elf was.
* * *
Varchi smiled at the memory. That would be why they were still
struggling to get to know each other. There was still a language barrier to
cross.
He took a path very different from the one he took the first time he
entered Lishea. He tried to keep his paths as different as possible so there
would be no trail. While his fellow Rotheyans may miss such trails, he knew
very well that it would not escape the notice of sharp-eyed Elves.
As he neared the border, he could hear the song of Lotus’s bow. The
tune was merry, expectant.
He stepped over one of the many berry bushes that marked the border
and felt something press into his neck.
“Ow.”
Smiling he turned around. Lotus had hooked herself to a tree branch by
her knees. She had her bow out, which she had used to get his attention.
Seeing his smile she smiled back and lifted herself up so she was sitting on the
branch.
“Came you,” she said, twisting herself so she could still see him.
He gave her a bow. “I did. Through much suffering.”
“Liar,” she said with a wink. She pushed herself off the branch, landing
gracefully on her feet.
 “You go searching- never mind,” he said.
She looked at him curiously. “Hard . . . day?” She cocked her head,
watching his expression to make sure she was using the correct wording.
He gave her a quick smile to let her know she had and said, “I’ve had
worse, though.”
A grin stretched across her face and she seized his hand. “I know what
do. Come me.”
She didn’t give him a chance to let him help her with her Rotheyan.
Ignoring his cries for her to slow down so he wouldn’t get whipped by the
branches, she dragged him through the forest. She brought him to a clearing.
The clearing was an almost perfect circle, fenced in by trees and bushes.
The grass was fairly level; no tree roots impeded the floor. She pulled him into
the center of the clearing and let go of him. She hurried over to a tree where
she carefully place her bow before turning to face him.
“Stersen!” she said happily.
He looked at her blankly. “Sters-son?”
“Stersen!” she repeated. She skipped closer to him, placed both of her
hands on her hips and twirled. She proceeded to circle around him with more
skips and twirls, her legs moving in a fashion Varchi knew he wasn’t capable
of. After circling him a few times she skipped right up to him and grabbed his
arms.
“Ah, ah, ah!” he said, trying to pull away.
She raised an eyebrow.
“I can’t dance,” he said, shaking his head.
She looked confused.
“Stersen?” he asked. “You were . . . stersen?”
She nodded eagerly.
He shook his head. “No stersen,” he said pointing to himself.
Lotus rolled her eyes. “You learn,” she said.
“But, no,” he said. “No stersen. No . . . song.”
“Song?” She laughed. “No song? I sing. You learn.”
With that she grabbed his hands again and began singing a fast-paced
song.
“Astira, astira!
 “Qoras seradas nobei ma!
“Astira! Astira!
“Nobeis, operl ar skersa.”
She guided him into the fancy twirls she had been doing only moments
before. He stumbled along, trying to imitate her footing with no luck. With
every verse she sang, the song became faster. The faster the song became, the
faster she moved him. His feet slipped underneath him and he fell to the
ground, dragging Lotus down with him. Upon seeing his expression, she burst
out laughing.
“Move feet!” she chirped jumping to her feet.
“No stersen!” he gasped, following a little more slowly.
“Move feet, move feet!” came her reply. “Stersen, stersen!” She seized
his hands again and began singing again. “Astira! Astira! Qoras seradas nobei
ma!”
She started out slowly this time. She kept indicating to her feet,
meaning for him to try to copy her footsteps. The slower pace certainly
helped, but it didn’t completely stop him from tripping. After a while Lotus
seemed confident that he was getting better and picked up the pace. She
remained oblivious to Varchi’s struggles with the footwork and the two
inevitably ended up on the ground again.
She was not be deterred, however, and she was up on her feet in a
second. “Move feet, move feet!” she encouraged him.
And so it continued. Lotus would try to get him to move his feet like
hers. Every time she sped up, he would get tripped up and fall. Until at last he
could no longer gather the strength to stand up, let alone dance, Lotus gave in.
She collapsed next to him and asked him a question in her language.
Varchi could only pick a couple of words, but his best guess was that she had
asked if it had been fun. He tried to reply, but only a small grunt could be
mustered.
It seemed to be enough for her, for she said nothing. Varchi closed his
eyes, intending to lay there only until he could stand up.
But the breeze that worked its way around the trees was soothing, the
grass was soft, and the songs of the birds was calming. A little sleep wouldn’t
hurt much, he was sure. Ten minutes, at the most. Maybe a bit longer.
Just a bit longer.
The King stood before them, eyeing them angrily. Several shuffled
guiltily, even though they had done nothing wrong.
Varchi stood as far away as possible, trying not to be noticed by the
King. Rotheya’s ruler should be esteemed beyond all else, he knew, but he was
finding it hard to do knowing that the man who stood before him had ordered
all the Marked to be exiled to the Catam colonies to work for the army or to be
executed for treason.
“Are you sure this is all of them?” the King barked at his guards.
“Yes, sire,” the Head of the Royal Guard answered. He stepped in front
of the Marked so the King could see him better. “All the ones who weren’t
executed, that is.”
The King nodded in a satisfied way, but there was still a sour look on his
face. He walked up and down the line of Marked, inspecting each one
carefully as if they were a line of horses he was considering buying. He
stopped at a young boy no older than six.
“And who is this?” he demanded.
The Head hesitated, not really sure who it was.
“Answer me!” the King said, ignoring the Head and glaring at the boy.
“R-rhic,” the boy answered. Varchi could hear his panicked breathing
from where he stood.
“And what are you supposed to do?” the King asked.
Rhic looked desperately at the older people near him, hoping someone
would come to his aid. But no one was willing to enrage the King farther. In a
small voice he replied, “I turn . . . I turn . . . .”
“Faster, boy! I don’t have all day!”
The boy jumped and paled. “I turn into a unicorn,” he said, his voice
barely above a whisper.
The King snorted in laughter and moved on. Varchi felt the urge to step
back as the King drew closer, but his feet would not move.
The King was level with him now, about to pass, when something about
Varchi caught his attention.
“You! Name?”
“Varchi,” he answered. He bit his lip until it almost bled.
The King squinted up at him and Varchi couldn’t help but notice how
unimpressive he looked up close. From a distance, the beard the King sported
looked elegant. But it only hid the King’s rather weak chin, as well as some of
his previous meal. The near-black skin that was said to be the color of the
gods appeared fake and covered in wrinkles. His completely black eyes held
no light and Varchi almost felt sucked into it. If the King’s horrid breath didn’t
kill him first, that is.
“And what can you do, Varchi?” the King spat, mocking his name.
Varchi was tempted not to answer, but he knew that he would instantly
regret staying silent. “I can hear weapons sing.”
This caused the court to burst into laughter. The King bent over, his face
turning red with a silent guffaw.
“And pray tell, how is that working for you?” the King asked, wiping
away a tear.
This time, Varchi kept his silence.
“Oh, I can tell, you’ll be useful down in Catam!” the King continued.
“You’ll be able to tell everyone just what kind of song the Elven swords sing.
Right before you die, too. Phyrus!”
The Head instantly scurried to the King’s side.
“Phyrus, fetch me a sword,” the King said. “I want this man to sing me
its song.”
“At once, sire!” the Head said. He motioned for a guard to relinquish
his sword and gave it to the King.
The King held out the sword to Varchi. “Tell me, what song is it singing?
A wedding song? A song of dance? The court wishes to know.”
Varchi reddened as he glared at the ground. The weapon in front sang a
song neither happy nor dance worthy. It was humming feebly, telling him that
it had a long and hard life. When he glanced up at it, he saw that it was
riddled with dents and nicks; it even had rusted slightly.
“Sing it for us! Come now!”
He took a deep breath. “I cannot imitate the songs of weapons. I can
only interpret their meaning.”
The King’s joyous face instantly slid away. “Are you denying me
entertainment?”
“I promise you, even if I were able to sing it for the court to hear and
understand, it would not be one of merriment,” he said, his voice much calmer
than he felt.
Stony-faced, the King handed the Head the sword. “I would slay you on
the spot,” he said, his voice dangerously quiet. “But the army will need your
sweat and blood, so you will be spared.”
He moved on in silence. The eyes of everyone in the throne room kept
flickering towards Varchi. Not a word was said, but Varchi knew everyone
believed that he got away with being rebellious.
The attention was removed from him when the King picked out a new
target.
“Name?”
“Werl,” came the reply. The man stood up straight, sizing up the King.
He said his name boldly, almost as if to challenge the King.
“And what can you do? Something more useful, perhaps?” the King
sneered.
“I owe you no answer,” the man proclaimed.
The crowd gasped collectively, then muttered in outrage. The Marked in
line stared at him in terror.
“What. Did. You. Say.” The King took a step forward, his nose almost
touch the man’s.
The man swallowed hard. “I owe you no answer.”
“Oh really.” The King backed off and walked to his throne. “You owe
me no answer, do you?”
The man nodded. “That is correct.”
“Does that mean you don’t have to go to Catam, as per the decree?” the
King asked.
He nodded again. “You can send me nowhere.”
The King sat down and leaned back. “I can send you to death.”
The guards acted so fast Varchi didn’t have to time to blink. He wished
he had, and had never opened them.
The guards came down on Werl like wolves on an injured deer. Their
swords danced in the air, singing a song of bloodlust. The song grew louder as
the swords became redder, showering the Marked in line with the liquid. The
only thing that matched the volume of the song was Werl’s screaming. Varchi
threw up his hands, trying vainly to block out the song and the screaming and
to protect himself from the hot fluid that dyed everything it touched.
And then it was over. The swords cried out for more, their lust not yet
sated. Varchi felt his stomach heave, but whether it was from the sickening
sword song, the wet feeling running down his skin, or the fact that something
that looked very much like an organ was sitting in front of him, he did not
know. He bent over, drawing deep breaths and averting his eyes away from
the misshapen lump only a foot away.
And there was laughter. Laughter. Looking up, Varchi saw the King
clutching his stomach as he laughed at the demise of Werl. Varchi felt another
urge to vomit and ducked his head again. For several minutes, the sound of
the King’s laughter mixed the lustful swords rang through the room. It
intensified with every second it lasted, almost drowning Varchi.
The King’s laughter died down. “This is what happens if any one of you
dares to defy me.”
Varchi felt the King’s eyes boring into him. But he wouldn’t look up. He
didn’t want to see the remains of Werl, the organ in front of him, and least of
all, the dark, fathomless eyes of the King.
“I’m done here,” the King said. “Take them away.”
A guard seized Varchi’s arm and led him away, his hands still dripping
with Werl’s blood.
Varchi opened his eyes to a dark world. He blinked rapidly several times
before he realized where he was. A small voice in his head told he should
hurry on to the camp, but the rest of him was still reeling from the nightmare.
The memory of Werl’s blood was still fresh on his skin and it took all of his
willpower not to wipe at his skin.
It happened ages ago, he reminded himself. Now you’re here, out of the
King’s reach.
The King’s eyes flashed back into his mind and he sat up, wincing.
Something stirred beside him and he jumped. He sighed in relief when
he saw Lotus’s white skin palely glowing. Her eyes opened and she looked up
at him. There must have been traces of fear still left in his expression for she
sat up and touched his face, eyebrows raised in concern. He placed a hand on
hers and smiled.
“Dream,” he said.
She frowned slightly, trying to interpret the meaning of the word.
“Sleep.” He believed she knew that word.
Her mouth opened slightly as she understood what he was saying.
They sat there, watching the stars that peeked through the trees. The
small voice in Varchi reminded him that he should get back to camp. Sighing
heavily, he stood up.
“I have to go,” he said softly. He pointed in the direction of Catam. “I
have to return.”
She nodded and turned her head away.
“I will see you again,” he whispered.
She got up and retrieved her bow, still keeping her head turned away.
The camp was brightly lit when Varchi returned. With a bit of luck , he
realized, he could slip into his tent without anyone really seeing him. Least of
all, the Duke.
But that proved to be wishful thinking. When he had come only halfway
between the forest and the camp he heard a voice call his name.
He froze. His mind immediately went to the Duke, but when the voice
spoke again, he recognized it to be Rhic’s. He looked around, not seeing the
young boy.
“Rhic?”
“Down here.”
He looked down, peering through the darkness. A few feet away he
could make out the boy’s crouching figure.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked, striding over to him.
“I broke the Captain’s lamp,” Rhic whispered. “They’ve been looking
for me for hours.”
“You sure they were looking for you?” Varchi said, kneeling next to
him.
“Yes. Well, yes?” Rhic’s face twisted in confusion. “They were looking
for someone, I know that.”
“I think they’re going to be more concerned with sleeping right now,”
Varchi reassured him. “It’s been a while, after all.”
Rhic nodded and wiped his eyes. Varchi straightened and offered Rhic
his hand. The boy took it and walked with Varchi back to the tent.
“Where were you?” he asked. “Krant said you had left after he took your
task. No one’s seen you since.”
“Staying away from the soldiers,” Varchi said.
“Can I come with you next time?” Rhic begged.
Varchi looked down into the boy’s pleading eyes. The tears that were
forming tugged at Varchi’s heart, but he couldn’t be sure that Rhic would be as
accepting of Lotus and playing around with her.
“We’ll see,” he said. He quickly glanced elsewhere so he wouldn’t have
to see Rhic’s crestfallen expression.
“Oh-ho!”
Rhic’s hand tightened around Varchi’s as one of the Marked spotted
them.
“Look who’s finally graced us with their presence!” he jeered.
Varchi ignored him. Brushing by the man he walked into the tent. His
bunkmates grew quiet and watched him carefully as he walked by.
“If you have an issue, I would rather you say it now,” Varchi said
irritably.
The Marked who had jeered at them entered and crossed his arms. “The
Captain found out what you did today.”
The blood started to drain from his face. Surely the Captain didn’t know
. . . . He and Lotus were completely alone. How could they have been found
out?
“Wh-what do you mean?” Varchi asked, trying not to sound concerned.
“Don’t tell me you forgot!” he said. “You know, leaving Krant with your
task and taking off?”
Varchi bit back the smile of relief. “So? What’s his problem?” He
released Rhic’s hand to arrange the meager blankets on his bunk.
“He’s absolutely ticked. He’s also found out that this isn’t your first time
taking off somewhere no one can find you.”
“He’d better get used to it,” Varchi replied.
“And the Duke’s been looking for you too.” The Marked thrust out his
chin in a proud manner.
“Good for him,” he said. “If he really wants to find me, then he can use
that power he’s been keeping so secret.”
“I will not.”
The Duke walked into the tent with a scowl. Everyone hurriedly
occupied themselves except for Varchi and Rhic.
The Duke strode over to Varchi. “What did I tell you just today?”
“Something about my loyalties,” Varchi said. “But to be honest, it’s been
a long day so I can’t be expected to remember.”
The Duke looked ready to hit him. “Your loyalties. And whatever you’re
hiding.”
“I told you, I’m hiding only myself,” he said coldly. “Just because you
like the menial jobs the soldiers give out doesn’t mean I do.”
“That doesn’t give you a right to do whatever you dang well please!” the
Duke snapped. Lowering his voice he continued, “You’re treading on thin ice
right now. What you do could affect everyone in this tent.”
“Last I checked, I wasn’t hiding everyone,” Varchi retorted. “Just
myself. So why do you care about what I’m doing?”
The Duke had no response. Instead, he glowered at Varchi before
leaving.
“What was that about?” Rhic asked.
Varchi gave the boy a tight smile. “Nothing. Nothing that should worry
you.”

But as the lights were blown out, Varchi started to wonder if it was
something Rhic should worry about.
What if seeing Lotus would really affect all of the Marked?
To say that the Captain was enraged was an understatement. His face
sported a red bordering purple as his cheeks bulged with anything he could fit
in his mouth. It gave him the odd appearance of a red praying mantis
imitating a hamster. It was a mere wonder he had not yet choked.
“Do you not understand your position, Varchi?!” he demanded, spewing
food all over the floor. Some specks landed on Varchi’s face, making him
flinch.
“Do you even realize why you’re here?” The Captain gestured to the
space around him.
Varchi figured this was not the best time for backtalk, but oh did he have
some good comebacks.
The Captain waved a bony finger in Varchi’s direction. “You are in
exile. Exile! And the King is highly merciful to let you live. Merciful, do you
hear me?”
“I don’t remember having done anything wrong while I was Rotheya,”
Varchi said with a hint of bitterness.
 The Captain spat out a fraction of the food in his mouth. “You were a
terror to the people! What do you mean you haven’t done anything wrong?
You should be thankful that the King saw that there might be something useful
in you.”
Varchi bit his lip, remembering how the King had mocked him.
“Thankful! That’s what you should be!” He finally swallowed his food.
But to Varchi’s disgust, he quickly stuffed his mouth again.
“I am utterly grateful to the King,” Varchi said sarcastically. While he
wasn’t thankful to the King, he was thankful that the Captain missed the
sarcasm.
The Captain nodded in agreement. “Then you should act like it!
Running off to who knows where is not acting grateful, you know! It’s not!
And you should be especially careful about where you run off.” He leaned in
closer. “You might think I’m harsh and cruel, but let me tell you. I’m being
kind compared to what those Elves do. After all, I’m living proof!” He
clasped a hand over the injury that caused Varchi to meet Lotus. “You
wouldn’t survive one minute in those woods, oh no! And the Elves are always
watching.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “The very trees have eyes, I’m
telling you. You can’t hide from them. Want to know why we’re not set up in
the forest? Because they’d use the trees as spies. Oh, yes, they would!” He
leaned back into his seat. “You should be ecstatic that you’re not fighting!
You don’t have to face the horrors that await us in that forest!” He waved a
hand in the general direction of the forest. “And all I ask is for your
obedience. I protect you from the Elves, I keep you away from the forest, and
even treat you better than you deserve. All I ask for is your obedience. But
remember this- I deserve your obedience.”
Varchi pursed his lips. The Captain paused to swallow and fill his mouth
again.
“Now for your punishment, you are to stay by my side all day,” he said,
wiping his hands. “And since I’ll be preparing a unit to attack tomorrow, you
are to stay with the doctor until he no longer needs your services. You are to
stay in the camp and wait for orders like the rest of you scum. Understood?”
Varchi nodded. Staying with the Captain while he organized a unit to
attack was definitely one of the worst punishments. Varchi would rather have
the Captain give him a more physical punishment.
But it was only until the doctor no longer had need of him. Then he was
free to go. For the most part, anyways.
“So, for your first order of the day,” the Captain said, his mouth finally
clear of food, “is to fetch me some more breakfast.” He held up the empty
plate. “Chop chop! Get to it. I’m not very patient!”
Varchi took the plate headed for the kitchens.
“Faster, boy! Run!” the Captain called.
So it begins, he thought as he raced to the kitchens.
Despite the Captain’s relaxed manner in the morning, he did not spend
the day in toil. For the rest of the morning, the Captain barked orders at
anyone who crossed his path, constantly sending Varchi out to fetch more
people for him to bark at. Varchi barely saw the Captain all afternoon as he
raced around herding the soldiers for the Captain’s next attack on the Elves.
The Captain had determined from information from a spy that an area
ten miles west from the camp was weak in Elven forces. He planned to sneak
through the woods and attack the Elves by surprise. He dismissed Varchi early
in the evening to work with the doctor, who would be arriving at the battlefield
later due to the Captain’s confidence in his plan.
The doctor did not hold the same confidence and had all of his helpers
prepare to leave as soon as possible. Varchi was tasked with loading all of the
equipment onto the medical wagons.
Between Lotus’s dance lessons, the Captain having him run around the
entire camp, and the doctor giving him heavy loads, Varchi couldn’t decide if
he would collapse or fall asleep first. When he was on the verge of doing both,
a Marked, Xerus, began to help him.
Xerus had been hand-selected by the doctor to help him on the
battlefield for his ability to create an invisible shield. That was all Varchi knew
about him, as he never spent time with the other Marked.
In the middle of loading one of the last wagons Xerus stopped and
motioned for Varchi to do the same. For a moment, he said nothing, only
watched the other doctor’s assistants rush around.
“You’ve never worked for the doctor before, have you?” Xerus said at
last.
“I have-”
“Not on the field,” Xerus interrupted. “You’ve done some collecting,
and you’ve only seen the doctor do aftercare work. You haven’t seen them just
after they’ve been injured.” He fell silent. Varchi waited for him to continue.
When Varchi thought he had to prod Xerus to finish, he said, “It’s not
something you can prepare yourself for. I’ve seen both sides of it; I have to
pull the injured soldiers off the battlefield. So I’ve seen the soldiers fighting
and I’ve seen them off the field, critically wounded. I’m not quite sure which
one’s worse.” He straightened and gave Varchi a hard look. “The doctor will
have you give the patients mersket and make sure that he’s got everything
where he needs it to be. And I hope for your sake that you’ve a strong
stomach.”
Varchi could not find an answer, nor any sort of appropriate response to
Xerus’s warning.
Fortunately, Xerus was not finished. “Find one of the wagons to get into
and rest. I’ll finish up the loading. You’re going to be up for as long as the
Captain keeps up the fighting.”
“You really think his plan won’t work?” Varchi asked.
Xerus snorted. “I haven’t seen the Captain’s plan to its fullest, so I don’t
know how good it actually is. But knowing what I know of Elves, and hearing
the gist of his plan, he’s either optimistic or just desperate to prove to the King
that he’s doing something. I’m betting on the latter.” He looked away, quiet for
a moment. When he spoke again, it was in low voice. “Politics has gotten
more people killed than war.”
For the briefest second, Varchi was standing in line with the other
Marked in the throne room.
Xerus took a deep breath. “Go, get some rest. I’m sure you’ll wake up
when we arrive.” He pushed Varchi out of the way and continued loading the
wagon. Varchi hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should really leave
Xerus to do the rest of the work. But after a stern look from him, Varchi set
off to find a somewhat comfortable wagon.
Surprisingly, the doctor let him sleep the entire journey. Only when the
wagons came to a complete stop did anyone wake him.
He pushed himself into a sitting position and instantly regretted it. All of
his muscles protested in agony after getting only two hours rest. Ignoring it to
the best of his abilities, he rolled out of the wagon and helped set up the area
the doctor selected to be his workplace.
Xerus stayed around to help for a part of it. When he felt he had helped
enough, he formed his invisible shield around him took off for the forest.
The doctor ordered for all of his assistants, including Varchi, to carry at
least one bottle of mersket. Without exception, Varchi learned, every patient
was to be given the mersket. It was a favorite of the doctor’s, rendering the
drinker voiceless for at least a week, sometimes even two weeks.
They had barely finished setting up when Xerus brought in the first
soldier. Depositing him on a bed, Xerus took off again. The doctor was
instantly by the soldier’s side, feeding him the mersket before setting to work.
The soldier’s groans almost immediately stopped.
While the doctor was still busy with him, Xerus returned with another.
This one was missing a leg and kept up a heavy flow of cuss words. Varchi all
too gladly gave him the mersket before darting off to retrieve the items the
doctor would need.
All too quickly the medical area was filled with soldiers. The ground
was slick with blood, making it treacherous to walk. Varchi could hardly keep
up with the new patients, their cries of pain nearly deafening him. Some of
the weapon suppliers abandoned their posts to aid Varchi in giving out doses
of mersket. A few of the patients had to be held down while the drug was
given to them.
When all the beds were filled and none of the vials remained, Varchi
took up post by the barrel the doctor brought and handed out more doses as
quickly as he filled them.
Quickly and silently they all worked, but the hours dragged on and their
ears were constantly filled with noise. The morning sun broke the darkness
and declined into the afternoon sun; the afternoon sun darkened to the evening
sun, and the evening sun relinquished its hold of the sky to night. Fires fueled
by anything from tree branches to amputated limbs lit the medical area. The
acrid smell hung in air, seeping into Varchi’s skin.
And yet the patients still came. One of the assistants had collapsed
some time back. The weapon suppliers were in constant struggles with the
newer patients. The doctor continued as swiftly as he could.
Because of the fights the soldiers put up against the weapon suppliers,
Varchi had time to fill several vials with mersket ahead of time. Xerus entered
the area with another patient. Upon sight it was clear that Xerus would not be
able to stand for much longer. Dumping the two vials he had just filled into his
pocket, Varchi darted over to help Xerus with the soldier, who was laughing in
a maniacal way. Varchi placed the soldier onto a bare spot on the ground.
Xerus staggered off a little ways before slumping on the bloody grass. Varchi
watched him just long enough to see that he was still breathing.
As he turned to give the soldier the dose of mersket, the man seized his
head and, bringing it close to his own face, said gleefully, “I got one! I got
one! One of ‘em Elves! I got one!” He wheezed in laughter. “Did you see it?
Beautiful! She’s dead now, she is!”
Varchi’s stomach dropped. Lotus led a band of Elves. She had told him.
What if she was out there now? What if she was . . . .
 The soldier started giggling again, elated in his victory. His glee
sickened Varchi worse than the stench of blood and burning flesh and the sight
of mangled bodies. His hand fumbled for a vial of mersket and he forced it
into the man’s mouth, almost breaking the container. The man’s laughter
stopped, but the grin remained.
Without really paying attention to what he was doing, Varchi got up and
returned to the barrel of mersket. His hands continued their work, but his mind
had already traveled into the forest. He needed to see her. He needed to make
sure she was alright.
He needed to know that she wasn’t a part of this battle.
Someone called for his help. Blindly, he stumbled in their direction,
carrying several bottles of mersket. Stepping on a particularly bloody patch, he
found himself hurtling to the ground.
There were calls around him, but he couldn’t hear them. In a detached
sort of way, he could feel the blood staining his skin clothes and smell the
burning flesh. It was fading, disappearing into a dark world.
The last thing he could bring to mind was Lotus.
He slowly woke to find no one had moved him. He sat up. People
moved around him, ignoring him. The bottles of mersket he had been carrying
were gone.
It took him several attempts to stand. The ground beneath him would not
stop spinning. He placed a hand on a nearby bed, trying to gather the thoughts
that were as scattered as he stood.
Patients. He had to give out mersket to the new patients. Taking a deep
breath, he set off in the direction of the mersket barrel. A hand gently grabbed
his arm. He turned to see Xerus shaking his head.
For someone who spent the past day dragging critically injured soldiers
off a battlefield, he was rather clean. But whatever he did to keep himself
clean, it didn’t remove the exhaustion.
“It’s over,” he said wearily. “Captain’s retreated. Said it was an
ambush.” He dropped his arm and appeared to fall asleep where he stood. He
shook himself and added, “We leave tomorrow at first light.”
He left Varchi. Varchi tried to process what Xerus said through his
fatigue.
It was over. The Captain’s attack was over. But why was it significant?
Why did Varchi care? He looked around him, hoping to find something that
would give him a clue. Someone laughed. It was tired, and probably forced,
but it reminded Varchi of the soldier.
Laughing. He was laughing at the death of an Elf.
Lotus.
He turned to face the forest. There was a hundred reasons why it would
be a bad idea to search for her. One of them being he would have to find a way
to slip everyone’s notice to even enter the forest. But the voice of reason was
silenced by the fear that she might be dead.
Slowly, he made his way to the forest. He stopped only when he
believed someone to be watching him. He saw the Captain arguing with one of
the soldiers. He ducked behind one of the doctor’s assistants. When the
Captain turned his back, Varchi slipped away.
Into the woods, he told himself. Into the woods. It did not matter that
being caught by either side meant instant death. What mattered was Lotus. She
had to be still alive. He couldn’t think of her as dead.
The acrid smell that wafted from the camp faded away into familiar
scents of forest growth. In the back of his mind he could hear the sounds of
wildlife. But he searched only for Lotus’s silvery voice.
There. Over there, he could hear it. The beautiful rise and fall of her
speech as she spoke in her native language. The song of her bow imitated her
tone.
Swiftly and soundlessly, Varchi headed in the direction of her voice.
She sat on a log, next to a brook. A hawk rested on her on arm and
stared at her fiercely while she talked to it. He came to a stop, realizing that
Lotus had not noticed his approach.
She finished talking. The hawk ruffled its feathers, cocked its head, and
replied.
He gasped and stepped back in shock. Lotus jumped her to feet. The
hawk launched itself off her arm and settled on a branch instead. Lotus had her
bow out, an arrow nocked and pointed at Varchi. The hawk stood poised with
its wings ready for flight. It screeched something to Lotus. Most of the words
were unfamiliar to Varchi, but he did understand the Elven word for
“Rotheyan.”
Lotus hesitated, looking from the bird to Varchi. Impatient, the bird
snapped at her again. Lotus stared at Varchi, her eyes wide with fear and
desperation. The hawk seemed to realize that Lotus struggled with killing him.
Disapproval emitted from it as it straightened and turned to glare at the Elf.
Slowly, she lowered her bow while shaking her head.
 In Elven, she whispered, “I can’t do this.”
With a shriek, the hawk sprang up. It flew straight at Varchi’s face. In
alarm, he threw his hands up and took another step back. His heel hit a tree
root and he fell over, his back landing against a tree. Lotus cried out and the
hawk landed in front of him. Keeping its eyes on him, the hawk responded.
For a moment nothing was done. Then Lotus made her way over to the
two. She had her eyes closed as she lifted her bow, the arrow only inches away
from Varchi’s forehead.
“You will explain yourself, Rotheyan,” the bird said. There was no flaw
in the bird’s Rotheyan. The words were spoken with perfection. “Why are you
traipsing in Lishea and why will Lotus not shoot you?”
Varchi’s voice refused to work. The best he could do was stare at the
hawk and form sentences in his mind.
“Answer me or she will shoot.”
“I-” He faltered, every answer he had sounding even worse than the one
before. “I- only came to see what had- had become of her.” He fell silent as the
hawk tilted its head in confusion.
“To see if she had died?”
“To make sure she had not.” His eyes flicked to the Elf. She had her
head turned away. The bow sang of its reluctance, but readiness to shoot.
“Why do you care? She is not on your side,” the bird said. Its tone
changed from cold to hostile.
Varchi had no reply. The bird gave him a sneer before muttering
something Lotus. Lotus shook her violently. She responded in a pleading
voice. The bird clicked its beak irritably and retorted harshly.
They use the trees as spies. The Captain’s word floated back to him as
the two continued their argument. It occurred to Varchi that the Captain was
not far off.
But instead of trees, the very birds were watching. If birds who could
talk watched the border, it didn’t matter where any of the Elves were. They
would always know. And why just birds? What if the entire forest contained
all sorts of animals who could communicate with the Elves?
Then Varchi had just stumbled upon a well-kept secret of the Elves.
He watched them without really seeing them. While death certainly
wasn’t something he wished to experience, it did not present itself as one of
the biggest concerns to him. What concerned him was the look on Lotus’s
face. Neither Lotus nor the bird could take him at his word if he simply
promised to not to say anything. The only sure way to keep his silence was to
be shot.
He pulled back an arm to adjust himself slightly. The movement caused
him to rub against something hard in one of his pockets. Confused, he reached
into his pocket and closed his fist around the object. His movements alerted
the attention of the Elf and bird.
“And what do you think you’re doing?” the bird demanded as he pulled
out the vial of mersket.
“What . . . is . . . that?” Lotus said, struggling with the pronunciation of
the Rotheyan words.
“Mersket,” Varchi replied quietly. His heart quickened. Maybe there was
a way other than death to prove to Lotus and above all, the bird, that he was
trustworthy. Even if temporary, perhaps it could work.
“Mersket?” the bird repeated.
Varchi nodded. When he was done observing the bottle, he looked the
bird in the eye. “I came here to make sure Lotus was still alive. I never
planned on telling the captain of the Rotheyan army what I’m doing, nor do I
intend to start. This,” he indicated the vial, “is a concoction that will prevent
me speech for one or two weeks.” He swallowed.
“And why would you do this?” the bird said coolly.
“To gain at least an ounce of your trust,” he replied. He paused, then
continued. “And I have a favor to ask of you.”
The bird gave him a look of angered shock.
“I want you to stay quiet about the two of us.”
Both Varchi and Lotus watched the hawk carefully. It clicked its beak
again.
“You, a Rotheyan, have wandered into Lishea and are now being
threatened. You have no weapons, you have proven yourself to be of no threat
to me and you have also extended my patience and hand of mercy. The only
thing you have going for you is that you have not yet revealed your meetings
with Lotus to your captain, and you hold a bottle of what you claim will make
you silent. Yet you want me to grant you a favor?”
Varchi and Lotus glanced at each other.
“That’s correct, yes,” he answered. He saw the bird’s eyes flick to the
Mark on his neck.
 “Do you believe your powers strong enough to beat me?”
“Actually, I believe my power to be completely useless against you.”
The more he spoke, the more confused the hawk became. It opened and
closed its beak several times, at a loss for words.
Finally, “Are you doing this to try to gain my trust so you can spy for
your country or are your brains severely addled?”
“The former, with the exception of spying,” Varchi said.
Bewilderment replaced all anger or hatred. The hawk turned to Lotus
and muttered in Elven. She nodded. The hawk replied with a question. Again,
Lotus nodded. The hawk watched her in silence, occasionally rustling its
wings.
The hawk took a deep breath and the glare returned.
“Let me be clear about this,” the hawk growled. “This does not mean I
trust you in any way. I will spare your life only in the presence of Lotus.
However, should you be caught by another Elf or Telethian-”
“What now?”
“Shush! Should you be caught by another Lishean, I will make no
attempt to save you. In return for your silence, I will keep mine for as long as
necessary.” The hawk leaned in so close its beak almost touched his nose. “I
will keep a close eye on you to make sure you do not go back on your word.
One mention of us Telethians of Lishea, and I will not hesitate to have you
killed. And remember, I do this only for Lotus. Do not think, not even once,
that I’m doing this for you.” It leaned back. “What are you waiting for? Drink
it already!”
Varchi shook his head, trying to recover quickly from the shock that
followed the hawk’s words. He pulled the stop off the bottle and downed it in
one go.
Bitter. With a hint of a flavor that might have been enjoyable on its own.
As it made its way to his stomach he questioned the ethics of giving the
soldiers the drug. He swallowed a second time, but the taste stubbornly stayed
in his mouth.
The hawk, however, gave him a look of satisfaction after observing the
expression he made. “Now that that’s been taken care of, I suppose I should
introduce myself. Lotus has informed me that you’re Varchi? My name is
Teyra, of the race of Telethians.” It bowed mockingly. “A pleasure to meet
you.” Teyra hopped onto Lotus’s shoulder. “Now leave. Unless you really do
wish to be caught by someone else.”
 Still wincing from the taste, Varchi stood up. He gave Lotus one parting
glance before proceeding to his side of the border. A whooshing sound told
him Teyra had taken flight.
His disappearance had gone unnoticed. The bustle of the medical area
made it hard for any one person to be noticed. The doctor and his assistants
attended to patients while the others were loaded into wagons. The soldiers
still well enough to walk on their own prepared the rest of the supplies for the
hike back to the camp.
Varchi spotted Xerus carefully stacking medical supplies around a
couple of patients lying in a wagon. He pushed through the sea of people and
helped Xerus. Xerus barely acknowledged his presence. Several times Varchi
felt the urge to glance up at Teyra, who he knew to be circling the field. But
something told him that looking up too often would give her away.
After everything was in place and secured, the two jumped off the
wagon and walked beside it. Only certain people were allowed to sit in the
wagons with the patients, regardless of how tired anyone was. If someone
collapsed on the way, the only hope he had was that another would help him
up and walk with him. Otherwise, he was left there. Varchi used it as a
warning and would grip the side of the wagon every time he felt himself
falling. There were times that he wondered if it would actually be better to
drop down and follow later when his legs were ready to continue. The thought
of being able to climb into a bed, be it as hard as a rock or as soft as a cloud,
became the only motivation to keep going.
When curling up on the desert ground sounded a lot more comfortable,
the camp came into view. A strangled cheer rose from a few in the weary crew.
Some found their second wind and rushed towards the tents. Varchi sighed in
relief at the sight, but stopped himself. It seemed rather busy for a camp
awaiting the return of many of its soldiers. That could only mean thing.
A supply ship from Rotheya had arrived.
“The Captain’ll eat well tonight,” Xerus muttered.
Varchi nodded in agreement, thinking of all the feasts that occurred in
the Captain’s tent after a supply ship came in.
When they reached the outskirts of the camp shouts sounded all around,
questions about who still lived and how the battled fared.
Varchi ignored the Marked that peered around the tents, their
expressions asking the same questions and helped Xerus with unloading the
wagons.
“Varchi?” a female voice asked.
 It was not the fact that a woman had said his name that made him turn in
surprise. There were a couple of women among the Marked. And occasionally
some of the colony women would venture into the camp with their husbands.
It was the fact that the voice was familiar.
Adaliago stood behind him, her head tilted and arms crossed like she
usually had them. The last time he had seen her, her hair had hung past her
shoulders. But now it was nothing more than a short bob, indicating her status
in the Royal Army.
She gave him a teasing smile. “What’s the matter? Has it been so long
that you don’t remember your own sister?”
Varchi opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out.
The mersket. He had forgotten that he swallowed mersket.
She pushed him playfully. “Come on, we both knew that they were
going to discover that we were both Marked sooner or later.”
Xerus noticed her and came over. “Who’s this?” he asked Varchi.
Varchi took a deep breath, wondering how he was supposed to
communicate to the two of them.
“I’m Adaliago,” she said with a slight curtesy. “Varchi’s sister. And
you?”
“Xerus,” he answered, throwing Varchi a questioning look.
“Pleasure.” She frowned in confusion when Varchi remained silent. “Is
there something wrong?”
Varchi returned Xerus’ gaze. He would know. Surely he would know.
Varchi tapped his throat and shook his head.
“Oh, you didn’t,” Xerus said, sighing in exasperation.
“Didn’t what?” Adaliago looked from Varchi to Xerus and back.
“He drank mersket,” Xerus explained. “So now he won’t be able to say
anything until the effects wear off.”
Adaliago’s frown deepened. “Why?”
Xerus shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time someone’s drunk it by
accident. Anything can seem like water if you’re tired enough.” He moved off
to unload another wagon.
Adaliago placed a palm on her forehead. “You drank mersket by
accident.”
 Varchi became very aware of Teyra’s presence overhead. Keeping his
eyes on his sister he nodded. Her look said she didn’t believe him. But she
did not pursue the matter. Hoping to get off the topic, he returned her frown
with a glare.
She rolled her eyes. “They caught me blowing up things and realized I
must be Marked, despite there being one already in the family. It was bound to
happen.”
When he continued to glare, she sighed. “Can’t really blame me, can
you? Ever since you’ve been banished, Papa’s been struggling the with the
carpentry business. Mama’s grieved herself into illness. And there’s very little
I can do. Blowing things up is something I can do to prevent myself from
actually going berserk. I know, I know,” she added hurriedly, “if you could
talk you’d berate me about how unwise that was. But ever since that decree
came out, we both knew it was going to happen someday.”
Varchi had nothing to say to that. So instead, he motioned her to follow
him to the Marked tent.
Varchi did not attempt to visit Lotus while waiting for his voice to
return. Teyra’s constant presence reminded him of the decision he had so
quickly made. Keeping information about the enemy from the Captain was
punishable by death if the information found a way out into the open. Also,
the fact that he kept the company of an Elf would by no means help his cause.
The soldiers took no notice of Teyra and passed her off as another bird.
But when their backs were turned she would cause minor troubles in the camp.
Items mysteriously got misplaced; tent pegs were uprooted, causing tents to
collapse; buckets of water were tipped over; the Captain’s pipe went missing.
Some started believing that a ghost was trying to communicate with them to
tell them how to win the war. Others thought it to be the Marked. The rest
merely ignored the happenings and considered them only accidents that could
be explained in another way.
But Adaliago suspected Varchi. Every time a tent fell over she gave him
a half-questioning glare. Whenever the Captain’s pipe was brought up, she
gave a pointed stare. Varchi found it hard to not respond to her glances. He
acted as if he didn’t notice what she was trying to say with her looks while his
stomach twisted in worry.
Visiting Lotus became harder than before. Convincing and escaping
Adaliago proved to be a harder challenge than avoiding the Duke. Most of his
visits with the Elf became nothing more than a greeting.
And Adaliago’s suspicion aside, Teyra’s constant watch made his visits
very different. While Lotus did not seem to think it should affect her behavior,
Varchi felt very odd doing anything under the intense gaze of the bird.
Varchi walked into the Marked tent after chasing around several escaped
horses Teyra released. It being the middle of the day, he expected to find the
tent empty. To his surprise, Krant sat in one of the bunks, watching him
eagerly.
“Is there something you need help with?” Varchi asked, puzzled.
Krant shook his head but continued to watch him as he walked over to
his bunk.
Varchi tried to ignore him. He carefully patted the sheets of his bunk,
trying to find the small knife he had stolen away earlier that day. He could
hear it singing, but was distracted by Krant’s unwavering gaze. Straightening
and turning around, Varchi asked, “Are you sure there’s nothing you need?”
Krant shook his head, smiling in an innocent, carefree way. “Is there
anything you need help with?” he said. “I can help, can’t I?”
Varchi was about to tell him he was fine when a thought occurred to
him. “No one’s been in here recently, correct?”
Krant shook his head again. “Only you.”
“If anyone asks if I was here, tell them I wasn’t, all right?” Varchi said,
holding his breath. Of course, he couldn’t put much hope in Krant; it was
highly possible Krant would forget.
“Why not?” Krant said, seemingly pleased to be part of some secret. He
leaned forward. “Are you hiding from the soldiers again?” he whispered.
“Yes,” Varchi said. He turned back to the bed and reached under the
pillow in a vain attempt to retrieve his knife. “I spent the morning chasing
after their blasted horses; I really don’t wish to spend the afternoon chasing
after something else.”
Krant laughed. He clapped a hand over his mouth. Glancing around the
tent, he said, “Don’t worry.” He made an impressive figure. “Your secret’s safe
with me.”
Varchi wasn’t paying attention. With a triumphant grunt, he pulled out
his knife. He pressed a finger to his lips as he passed by Krant. Smiling, Krant
copied him.
Cautiously, Varchi walked away from the camp. He kept an eye out for
anyone who would notice his attempt at escape, especially his sister. A pang of
guilt stabbed his stomach. Keepings secrets from his sister wasn’t something
he enjoyed.
 He reached the edge of the woods. Without a glance back he stepped in
and took off. His constant trips had made him surefooted, making it easy for
him to fly over the ground knotted with tree roots and branches. He only
stopped when he was sure he had crossed the border.
He paused, straining to hear the song of Lotus’s bow. However, he could
hear nothing but sounds of forest life. He waited a while longer, wondering if
he should go back. After all, not even Teyra could be seen.
He stepped back, his heart sinking. The one chance he would be able to
see just Lotus faded away.
A hand touched his shoulder. He jumped, whipping around and trying to
find some sort of excuse as to why he was on the Lishean side of the border.
But neither his sister, the Captain, nor any other Rotheyan stood before
him. Lotus doubled over, laughing at his reaction.
“You scared me,” he gasped, clutching his heart. “Thought . . . someone
. . . .”
She tried to take deep breaths, but the pronunciation of his Elven made
her laugh even harder.
“Bow?” he asked.
She shook her head, still gasping for breath. “Not today. No Teyra.”
Seeing his bemused expression, she stopped laughing long enough to
explain. “Teyra sent scouting. I . . . .” She frowned, searching for a word he
would understand. “I am not fighting today.”
“Oh.” He smiled at her, the shock wearing off. “Come with me; I have
something to show you.”
Her face brightened. “What?” she asked, following him closely. “What
is it?”
“I can’t tell you yet,” he said. When he felt they had gone far enough, he
dropped to his knees and found a broken branch. Neither knife nor wood were
ideal; nevertheless, it was something he could work with. He sat down and
began working on the branch. Lotus kneeled next to him, watching him while
he worked. He winced every time he made a mistake, but did not pause. Lotus
watched closely, her mouth slightly open as bits of wood fell to the ground.
The seven months he spent in the desert acting as a servant for the
soldiers made him forget his skill in carving. Seeing Adaliago reminded him
of the smaller things he had left behind in Rotheya.
And he wanted Lotus to share in that.
 He held up the wooden flower, its edges rough from the lack of practice
and proper equipment. He handed it to Lotus. She fingered it carefully, as if
fearful she would break it. Gently she took it into her own palm. For a while
nothing was said. Then, sighing, she leaned against him.
“I . . . .” she began quietly. “I . . . forget there is war, when you I see.”
Varchi opened his mouth to respond but Lotus sat bolt upright, looking
wildly in the direction of the border.
“Someone’s here,” Lotus said in Elven. She stood up, ready to run.
Varchi slowly got his feet, his heart contracting with every breath. Lotus
listened carefully. Nothing could be heard, however, so she shook her head.
“We have to go back,” Varchi said. “I’ll see if I can deal with whoever
that was.”
Lotus nodded and turned to take off. She paused and threw him a look,
as if she wanted to say something. But she decided against it and left.
Varchi watched her go before heading in the direction of the camp. At
the thought of being discovered his lungs no longer wanted air and his heart
would either pound or stop. Several times his legs begged him to stop but he
forced them to keep going.
A branch cracked and he froze. Perhaps they didn’t see Lotus, he
thought. Maybe he could pretend he was out for a walk.
“I thought something was up with you,” Adaliago’s voice said as she
came through the trees. “You were acting almost like a stranger.”
“Wh-what are you doing here?” Varchi said, his tone strained.
“Seeing what you were up to,” she answered. Her face was blank, giving
him no hint as to what she was feeling. “And I find that you’re hanging with
an Elf.”
Varchi tried finding an explanation –something- that would dismiss
everything. But she had already seen Lotus; the damage had already been
done.
She shook her head in disbelief, her eyebrows furrowing. “How could
do you do that? They are our enemies. We are fighting them! And you
befriend one?”
Still no answer came to him. He stopped trying and leaned against a tree,
waiting for her to finish.
“Varchi? I mean you do know that we’re at war with them, yes?” She
crossed her arms. “Have you been spying for them?”
 “No!” Varchi snapped.
She raised her eyebrows.
“No, I haven’t been spying for either side,” he confessed.
“So you thought it would just be a good idea to become a friend of the
Elves,” she said coldly.
“What do you want from me?” he demanded. “You’ve already come to
that conclusion, why does it matter what I think?”
“Because you’re the one breaking the law, Varchi! The law!” Several
birds took flight as Adaliago raised her voice. “Isn’t it bad enough that we’re
exiled because of who we are? Do you have to make it worse for yourself by
doing the absolute forbidden?” She stopped, breathing hard. When Varchi
didn’t respond, she continued. “And what about the rest of us? Did you think
about Papa and Mama when you started doing this, or did that not matter to
you?”
“Why should it matter?” he spat. “They’re miles away; and we’re stuck
here. Forever! Do you really think that as soon as the war’s over, they’ll just
send us back home?”
“Doesn’t meant that whatever you do here won’t affect them!” she said.
“Are you going to turn me in?” he said, lowering his voice but keeping it
cold.
She stopped with her mouth open.
“Just tell me; are you going to turn me in or not?” he said.
She stepped back and dropped her gaze to the ground. “And if I say
yes?”
“This is where we say goodbye.”
“If I say no?”
“Then don’t expect me to stop seeing her.”
Silence. Varchi bit his lip from saying anything else. Anything more,
and he would be begging her.
Then, “Do you love her?”
Varchi’s breath caught in his throat. His initial reaction was to say no,
but he recalled how he felt over the months. How happy it made him to see her
smile, and how scared he was at the thought of losing her.
He looked his sister in the eye and said quietly, “Yes.”
 She stared at him for a moment. Then, without another word, she turned
and walked away.
Adaliago did not report him, to his relief. But she treated him like a
stranger, which made him wonder if it would be better if she did. She wouldn’t
even talk to him, let alone look at him directly.
The only time she would look at him was when he returned from visiting
Lotus. But it was always a quick glare, then she was back to ignoring his
existence.
Her coldness towards him affected the other Marked. Adaliago’s
personality naturally drew them to her, and finding themselves having to
choose sides, they choose hers. Though they did not know the reason, they
found it easier to be around Adaliago, leaving Varchi isolated.
The only other in the camp who would talk with him was Krant, who
remained oblivious of the situation.
On the other hand, the lack of attention let Varchi spend more time with
Lotus. When he was with her, he abandoned the Rotheyan language and
attempted to speak only Elven. His rapid improvement pleased Lotus, and
even Teyra, who was unwilling to admit it.
Whenever he was not with Lotus or doing chores assigned by the
soldiers, he sat in his bunk and practiced carving. He had offered to redo the
flower he had given Lotus, but she refused. He found out later that she had
made a necklace out of it.
A slight smile came to his face as he remembered the look of horror on
her face when he brought it up. The tent flap opened and he quickly buried the
chunk of wood and knife in the sheets. Krant walked in. Seeing only Varchi,
he made beeline for him.
“What are you doing in here?” he asked, plopping himself in the bunk
across from Varchi’s.
Varchi shrugged.
“Are you hiding again?” Krant said.
“Isn’t much of a hiding spot, now is it?” Varchi said.
“It could be,” he answered. He leaned in closer, grinning. “I didn’t tell
anyone. No one asked.”
Varchi frowned, trying to remember what secret he asked Krant to keep.
“No one found out you were in the tent that day,” Krant said when
Varchi didn’t say anything.
 “Oh!” He faintly remembered how that day started. Most of what he
remembered involved his fight with Adaliago. “Oh, yes! Good.”
Krant sat back, looking satisfied with himself. “Did you hear?” he asked
excitedly. “Did you hear what happened?”
Varchi sighed. Getting rid of Krant was not going to be easy. Especially
when he had some idle gossip to share.
“Adaliago bested one of the soldiers at a sword fight,” Krant said. “So
the Capt-”
Varchi held up a hand, indicating for him to stop. Krant didn’t catch the
gesture and kept rambling on, leaving Varchi to strain to hear over his voice.
Among the constant songs of Rotheyan weapons there was one foreign
melody. One familiar foreign melody.
Lotus’s bow.
He stood up abruptly and rushed out of the tent.
A crowd had gathered close to the Captain’s tent. There were yells and
shouts, and even some cheering.
“What is going on?” Krant asked, following Varchi out of the tent.
Varchi ignored him and took off towards the crowd. He pushed through
the crowd, getting shoved back at some points, until he was at the front.
Lotus was between two soldiers, both of them triumphant. They grasped
her tightly while she struggled as they proudly presented her to the Captain.
The Captain inspected her carefully as the soldiers explained what happened.
“There she was, sitting on a log,” one was saying. “Tried running when
she saw us, but it didn’t do her much good. By that time, we had her good and
surrounded.”
“We didn’t kill her because we remembered seeing her lead a unit,” the
second continued. “We thought she’d be of some use to you, especially if she’s
a captain of sorts.”
The Captain looked up at them and smiled. “Good work, boys. I do
believe you’re right. And if that’s the case, well, the king of those Elves
wouldn’t want her dead any time soon, now would he?”
Laughter spread through the crowd at his words. Varchi, however, felt
ready to be sick.
“Take her to the pit,” the Captain said. “We’ll send a message to the
Elves soon enough that their captain is captured.” He smirked at her. “Wonder
how much her life is worth.”
The soldiers snickered as they dragged her to the tent containing the pit.
Varchi followed them from a distance. Others also followed, only to hurl
insults at her and mock her.
The soldiers reached the tent and pulled it open, shoving her inside. One
of them took her quiver and bow and walked off. The other looked around at
the crowd.
Spotting Varchi, he pointed to him and called, “You! Over here now!”
Reluctantly, Varchi came forward. The soldier motioned him into the
tent with one hand, the other gripping Lotus’s hair. An urge to accidentally trip
into the soldier welled up in him. Just one bump and Lotus would be free.
But he didn’t react quickly enough. The soldier dragged her into the tent
and pushed her into the pit in the center of the floor. The pit was taller than
two men with smooth sides, making escape only possible by the rope ladder
piled in a corner. Lotus hit the ground and Varchi winced at the sound.
The soldier turned to Varchi. “Get her some water. We don’t want her
dying of thirst before her time.”
The soldier walked out of the tent. Varchi made sure he was gone before
kneeling at the edge of the pit.
“I’m going to get you out, I swear,” he said in Elven.
She slowly pushed herself into a sitting position, shaking her head.
“Don’t try. You’ll get killed.”
“You’re not staying here,” he said firmly. Before she could say anything,
he got up and went to follow the soldier’s instructions.
As he was filling a bucket with water Adaliago approached him.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said.
Varchi ignored her.
“And you shouldn’t do it,” she continued.
“I don’t care if it’s illegal,” he said quietly.
“You’re going to get yourself killed,” she said.
The bucket filled, he headed back to the pit.
“Please, I’m begging you don’t do this,” she pleaded, chasing after him.
He stopped and glared at her. “I don’t care if I die. I’m not letting her be
used as bait. And we both know what will happen to her as soon as they get
what they want.”
Adaliago opened her mouth to answer but closed as several soldiers
passed by. When they were out of earshot she said, “This goes beyond just
being friends with her. This is an act of treason.”
“Like I said, I don’t care.” He started walking again.
“Well, I do,” she said. She grabbed his arm, stopping him once again. “If
you fail both of you will die. Will it have been worth it?”
“I’ll have at least tried.”
They stared unblinking at each other.
She let go of his arm. “You’ve changed a lot. You used to quietly follow
the rules, played it safe.”
“Following the rules now isn’t going to keep me, or Lotus, safe,” he
retorted.
“What about the rest of us?”
He stared at her. “What do you mean?”
“If you won’t think about how it will affect Mama or Papa, then what
about the rest of us?”
“How the heck will it affect the rest of you?”
She crossed her arms. “I’m not naïve, Varchi. They didn’t send us here
because we volunteered to help the Royal Army. We’re here because they fear
us.” She leaned in closer. “By rescuing the Elf, you commit treason. And
they’re not going to single you out. They’re going to suspect all of the Marked
of betrayal. What then?”
“If they don’t catch me, they can’t do anything about it,” he shot back.
“But you can’t even guarantee that,” she whispered vehemently as
another group of soldiers passed by. “You can’t be sure that however you help
her you won’t be caught.”
“Well, then, if they catch me and suspect all of us of betrayal, then let
them,” Varchi growled.
She looked at him in shock.
“What? You said it yourself. We’re here because they fear us. We’ve
given them no cause to fear us, so if they catch me, at least they’ll have a
reason this time.” He whipped around and began to march off.
“Wait!” She chased after him and caught his arm.
 He looked at her with impatient expectation.
She rubbed her neck and looked around. “You aren’t going to be able to
pull this off by yourself,” she said. “You’re going to need help.” She hesitated.
“As much as I dislike you committing treason, I hate the idea of losing you
even more. So I’m going to help you.”
Varchi stepped back in shock, almost dropping the bucket. “I-I’m
sorry?”
“This is how it’s going to have to be done,” she said, talking as if he
hadn’t said anything. “Since everyone’s convinced that everyone else hates the
Lisheans, security around her isn’t going to be tight. So I’m going to create a
diversion by getting into a fight with one of the soldiers. Once there’s a big
enough crowd, you’re going to slip into the tent to help Lotus out of the pit. If
you run into anyone, you’re to tell there’s a fight. If they shrug it off, you’re to
insist that it’s a big deal and their help is needed. Once you get her out, you’re
to take her to the woods. When you come back, I’ll stop the fight.”
“D-did you already think of this before you came over to me?” he asked.
She bit her lip. “I was hoping to convince you not to, but if I couldn’t,
then I knew I was going to help you, whether I liked it or not.”
“But . . . why?”
She looked him, startled. “Why?”
“Why are you helping me instead of ignoring me?”
She kicked at the ground, delaying the time when she had to answer.
“Because they . . . they . . . .” She took a deep breath. “They make it hard to
breathe. I can’t be myself because who I am scares them.” She hesitated.
“When I recognized Lotus and realized that you were going to try to rescue
her, I . . . I got excited at the idea of doing something rebellious. And for a
moment, it didn’t matter why I was doing it. It just meant that I had an excuse
to have some triumph over the soldiers.” She looked up, staring at him right
in the eye. “You’re also my brother. I can be mad at you all I want, but that
does not mean I want to see you die, whatever the cause.”
He gave her a small smile. “Thanks.”
She shook her head. “You should give her her water instead of wasting
your time here.”
He turned away and headed back to the pit.
Coming back to the tent he found two guards standing outside. He held
up the bucket as passage. They nodded to him curtly as he passed by.
 Tying the bucket to a rope, he gently let it down the pit. Lotus opened
her mouth to say something but he shook his head and placed a finger on his
lips. She nodded in understanding and took the bucket gratefully.
As she drank, he went over the plan in his head. He could think of a
thousand ways it could go wrong. All it would take was one person to catch
him helping Lotus. But he could think of no other alternative.
When Lotus was done, he pulled out the bucket and strode out of the
tent, hoping that everything would go well.
The next day came slowly, as if it were dragging its heels. Adaliago and
Varchi met up after finishing any morning chores the soldiers thought of. The
sight of determination on his sister’s face made him all the more nervous
about the plan. For a brief moment he considered sharing his concern with her.
But then she spoke and he tried to shake it off.
“Just tell me when,” she said.
Varchi took a deep breath and nodded. His sister squared her shoulders
and marched into the crowd of milling soldiers. Varchi took a few steps back,
preparing for when she started her show.
She walked up to one of the soldiers and said something. She placed a
hand on her hip and tilted her head in a mocking fashion. Her words gained
her a guffaw from the soldier. He brushed her off, continuing his conversation
with another soldier. Undeterred, Adaliago shoved his shoulder. When he
retorted angrily she crossed her arms. Whatever she said next aggravated the
soldier even more. He jumped to his feet and spat at her. Others stopped what
they were doing to watch the fight that unraveled before them. Please that she
had his attention, she retaliated with an answer that incited anger from other
soldiers.
When Varchi felt enough soldiers were focused on Adaliago, he set off
in the direction of the prison tent. He started off slowly, but arrived at the tent
almost sprinting. The sight of two guards standing in front of the entrance
made him skid to a stop.
When they saw him approach, one of the guards stood up excitedly. The
other glared at Varchi.
“Is there something we can help you with?” growled the guard glaring at
Varchi.
He opened his mouth, trying to gather his thoughts enough to remember
what to tell them. “Fight. That way.” He pointed in the direction where
Adaliago was fighting with the soldiers.
“A fight?” the guard’s companion repeated. He shifted anxiously.
“What’s going on?”
“One of the Marked is acting up,” Varchi replied. “And some of the
other Marked are following her example. They need help keeping things in
hand.”
“Look elsewhere,” the first said. “There is an Elf who needs watching.”
“Oh, c’mon,” the second retorted. “It’s not like she can go anywhere.
She’s stuck in a deep pit; what’s she gonna do?”
“It does not matter,” the first said. “Besides that, why would they send
you of all people?”
“Because I’m useless on either side unless it’s self-defense,” Varchi
replied truthfully. “But I should add the fight is escalating rather quickly.”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m up for anything that doesn’t involve
counting flies while guarding this Elf.” The second dashed off in the direction
of the fight.
The first contented himself with a scowl at both Varchi and his
companion before following. When they were out of view Varchi slipped into
the tent.
“Lotus?” he called softly, cautiously approaching the edge of the deep
pit that gaped before him.
He could hear movement at the bottom of the pit.
“Varchi?” came the reply.
He crouched down at the edge and peered in. Lotus stood in the middle,
looking up at him. Upon seeing his face, a faint smile came to her lips. She
brushed a tangled knot out of her face with a dirt-stained hand. Varchi bit back
a frown, remembering the times when her moonpale skin almost glowed and
her hair shone.
“I’m here to get you out,” he told her in Elven.
The faint smile disappeared. “No,” she said. “I can’t let you do that.”
He ignored her. He got to his feet and grabbed the rope ladder laying in
a pile next to a wall of the tent.
“No, Varchi? Varchi, please don’t. They’ll kill you.”
He dropped the ladder into the pit. “What do you think they’ll do to
you?” he challenged. “They’ll pretend to let you go once your king surrenders
and then murder you.”
She shook her head but began climbing the ladder. As she made her way
to the top Varchi checked outside the tent to make sure no soldiers approached.
She came up beside him and he took her hand. Together, they left the tent and
began navigating through the maze of the camp. Anytime Lotus’s sharp ears
caught anything, they hid behind whatever was available until they deemed it
safe.
The normal humming of the weapons in the camp grew into a song of
excitement, telling Varchi that the fight Adaliago started grew even more
intense. But something sounded off, as though one of the swords was singing
flat, or attempting a discordant harmony. At first he passed it off as Lotus’s
bow. But the bow sang quietly and mournfully; so while very different from
the other songs, it was not noticeable enough for the effect Varchi heard.
The error in the melody distracted him so much he did not see Lotus
freeze. He rounded the edge of a tent and stopped.
The Duke stood in his way, a sword in his hand. The sword sung a song
just contrasting enough to throw everything slightly off.
For a while, neither said anything. Lotus came up behind Varchi,
holding herself in a defiant manner.
Then the Duke shifted. “I will give you one chance, Varchi. And before
you so rashly choose to flee for the Lishean border with the Elf, I should warn
you of the consequences.”
“Well, now that you’ve caught me, I’m very well aware of the
consequences,” Varchi retorted. “I certainly won’t be allowed back in the
camp alive.”
The Duke narrowed his eyes. “That is not the only consequence. You
free her, and you condemn future generations of our kind to unbearable
suffering. Children will be murdered in the streets, men and women hunted
like animals. Watching those like us be burned at the stake will be the
entertainment of the villages. You free the Elf, and the blood of future Marked
will be on your hands.”
Varchi stepped back , confused and skeptical. “And what makes you
believe this?” he demanded.
The Duke’s jaw twitched. “I have been cursed with the ability see the
tragic future, and only the tragedies. And never by my will. I looked into the
future and saw that the choice you make will be beginning of the nightmare
for the Marked.”
“All because I saved a life?” Varchi said. He crossed his arms. “You can
say what you want, but I will not believe it.”
The Duke sighed. “If that is your choice, then I must stop you.” He
began to lift his sword. The sword sang with a powerful vengeance.
“Go,” Varchi muttered in Elven to Lotus. “Go home. Get out of here.”
She opened her mouth to protest. But she closed it almost as quickly and
bolted. The Duke lunged to attack her. Varchi leapt at the Duke, tackling him
to the ground
The Duke twisted himself and slashed at Varchi. He rolled out of the
way. The two men jumped to their feet. They circled each other. Varchi
listened for cues the Duke’s sword gave out and the Duke watched for a weak
spot. The Duke charged and Varchi dodged. The canvas caught Varchi. The
Duke swung his sword. Varchi barely had enough time to duck. The sword bit
into the canvas, carving a long tear and knocking an object down that had the
misfortune of being placed too close to the wall. Varchi rolled away, popping
up behind the Duke.
It crossed his mind to make a run for it, but the Duke spun around and
blocked him. It seemed the Duke knew exactly what he was planning and was
doing everything in his power to stop it.
In the course of dodging the Duke’s attacks, it occurred to Varchi that he
could easily defeat him if he himself wielded a sword. Just as this thought
came to him the Duke swung at him and forced him to drop to the ground.
Varchi swept his leg under the Duke and knocked him to the ground. The
sword fell and Varchi caught it.
He stood, aiming the point directly at the Duke’s heart. The vengeful
song of the sword quieted as it processed the change of hands.
“It is rather obvious you do not know much about swordplay,” Varchi
said. “You have a rather weak stance.”
The Duke’s eyes traveled from the sword to Varchi. “You don’t know
what you’re doing.”
“On the contrary,” Varchi said, “I believe I know exactly what I’m
doing. After dealing with you, I’m going to make sure Lotus is safe.”
“You’ve lost our kind our freedom!”
“Freedom?” Varchi snorted. “We were free? Being banished to Catam to
help with the war? Being treated no better than a dog or slave? Being hated by
people who pretend they care? This is freedom? Then I do not want it. You
can keep it.”
The Duke’s eyes darkened. Varchi pulled the sword back to stab him,
but hesitated.
The Duke was only trying to prevent a future from happening. Did he
really deserve to die?
Varchi let go of the sword. Its song of disappointment mingled with the
clatter as it hit the ground.
It happened so fast Varchi had no time to process it. Images of the Duke
leaping at him and reaching for his throat tried to catch up with the picture of
the Duke lying on the ground with an Elven arrow piercing his chest. The song
of Lotus’s bow rang clear, piercing through his mind.
“Come!” she called urgently.
Wiping away splatters of the Duke’s blood from his face, Varchi ran up
to her. She turned and headed towards the forest.
The song of an approaching weapon made Varchi dive behind a pile of
barrels. The sound of the weapon’s bearer made Lotus do the same. Moments
later, a soldier rushed by. Varchi peered through one of the cracks and saw that
they were not too far from the place of Adaliago’s fight.
Large red stains surrounded her, dotted with bits of flesh. A circle of
soldiers had formed around her. One soldier, ignoring the calls of warning
from the others, broke the circle and charged at her. Without blinking, she
raised her hand towards him.
The soldier exploded. His own scraps of flesh joined the rest and the
ground was showered with his blood.
Movement flickered through the crowd. The Captain walked up to the
edge of the circle and faced Adaliago.
Nothing was said. Everything was so very still while waiting for
something to happen.
Silently, Adaliago raised her hand, aiming it at the Captain. A grin
spread across her face.
“Fire!”
Arrows rained down on her from every direction. But even as they
pierced her body, she still grinned. She dropped, resting on the red-stained
ground.
“Find all of the Marked,” the Captain called. “Not one is to be spared.
Kill them in any manner you see fit, but it must be done quickly.” With that,
he turned on his heel and strode off.
Varchi pulled himself away from the crack, breathing hard. What he had
just seen was just fiction. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real.
Lotus gently touched his shoulder. He grasped her hand tightly.
 “She did that for me,” he gasped, stumbling over the Elven words.
“That . . . was . . . my fault. My fault.”
Lotus said nothing. After a minute of silence she tugged his arm, urging
him to his feet.
Slowly he stood, letting her guide him through the camp. If they had to
duck behind something to avoid being seen, he did not remember it. His mind
still played the scene of Adaliago’s last moments, the cacophony of songs and
screams providing background noise.
Lotus stopped abruptly and looked at Varchi with her eyebrows
furrowed. Varchi stared at her, trying to focus on the present. Lotus slipped
into a nearby tent. Confusion pushed shock to the side and Varchi followed
her.
He found her crouching by a pile of blankets that appeared to be crying.
Cautiously, she reached out and pulled the blankets back to reveal Rhic.
Startled by the sight of a child, Lotus cast Varchi a bewildered glance.
Rhic squeaked in surprise at seeing an Elf. He scuttled back. Lotus tried
to gesture to him that she wasn’t going to hurt him, but it only scared him
more.
“Rhic, it’s all right,” Varchi said, coming to her aid. “We’re going to
take you somewhere safe.”
Rhic looked from her Varchi, not sure if he could believe him. Varchi
stretched out his hand.
“Come with us,” he urged.
Gingerly, Rhic walked over to him, all the while glancing back at Lotus.
Having secured Rhic, they exited the tent and continued towards the
forest. A scream would mark the death of a Marked, but occasionally yells
could be heard. Rhic’s hand tightened around Varchi’s every time the sound of
death claimed another victim.
Varchi concentrated on the song of Lotus’s bow; its quiet melody
attempting to sooth anyone who could hear it.
When they reached the woods Varchi forced himself not to look back.
He didn’t want to see the horrors that occurred. Stepping into the forest,
silence reigned, blocking out the nightmare. Their pace slowed considerably as
they traversed invisible paths and approached safe territory known as Lishea.
Rhic’s hand slipped from Varchi’s. He staggered behind the Elf and Varchi, his
eyes barely able to stay open. Lotus took pity on him and scooped him up in
her arms. Rhic stiffened, unsure of her. But exhaustion won over and he
relaxed, almost falling asleep.
When Varchi felt ready to drop himself, the faint song of Elvish
weapons caught his attention. Lotus slowed to a stop and picked up her head
hopefully. A light smile touched her lips as she heard the sounds of her race.
Varchi hung back, shifting his weight from on foot to another.
The faint song became a sweet chorus, yet filled suspicion. There was
the whooshing of wings and Teyra appeared. She landed on a branch close to
them, her face unreadable. One by one, Elves stepped out of the shadows,
some dropping from the trees. They formed a circle around the three.
The circle of Elves rippled and parted to let in an Elf taller than the rest
of them. Though this Elf was dressed no differently from the rest, he held a
regal air. Piercing green eyes scrutinized Varchi carefully before flicking over
to Lotus, whose face brightened at the sight of him.
“Teyra informed us about the Rotheyans capturing you,” the Elf said, his
speech smoother than Lotus’s and Teyra’s. “We were on our way to free you,
but-” he glanced at Varchi “-I can see that it is not necessary.”
“Luandiel,” Lotus said, her cheeriness fading a little. “There is too much
to explain. Too much to . . . .” She trailed off, dropping her eyes to the ground.
The Elf continued to stare at her. Finally he nodded. “Then you will
walk with me to the village.” He motioned to another Elf. “You will take the
Human child.”
This Elf stepped forward and gently relieved Rhic from Lotus’s arms.
Rhic stirred but did not wake.
“But the man must be blindfolded.”
A cloth was placed around Varchi’s eyes. His hands were left free, but he
knew that escape was impossible.
“Let us go.”
Hands seized his shoulders and pushed him forward.
Muttering. Muttering surrounded him. A few words he understood. And
the words that he understood were about a Rotheyan in an Elven village. The
hands on his shoulders stopped him. A voice called out and the muttering grew
quieter. His blindfold was removed.
He stood under a roof held up by posts. There were no walls; one railing
wrapped around the structure, leaving an opening. The wind blew freely
through the large spaces between the posts.
The tall Elf, whom Varchi started to believe to be the king, stood at the
side opposite to the entrance. He had his arms crossed and watched Varchi
intently. Uncomfortable with his unwavering attention, Varchi looked around
for Lotus and Rhic.
He saw Rhic being carried away from the structure and into one of the
huts that stood some distance away. Rhic still had to wake up and see where he
was. Lotus walked by Varchi and settled herself next to the Elf king.
Someone guided Varchi to a railing where Teyra was perched. She
ignored his presence, watching the king.
The king cleared his throat and the Elves speaking with each other
instantly fell silent. The only sound Varchi could hear was the song of Elvish
weapons.
And the song of a Rotheyan weapon.
Varchi looked around, confused. None of the Elves carried Rotheyan
weapons.
The king began speaking. By the words Varchi understood, the king
spoke about him. Lotus’s name was thrown in several times.
“They’re figuring out what do to with you,” Teyra said in a low voice.
“They know that you know about the Telethians, so they would normally lean
towards killing you. But Lotus has vouched for you, so that complicates
things.”
“What about Rhic?” Varchi asked, still trying to find the Rotheyan
weapon.
“He’s still a child,” Teyra answered. “And given that the Rotheyans will
kill him if he returns, the Lishean community will raise him.”
The king finished speaking and other Elves began voicing their
opinions.
“Mm-hmm,” Teyra said, nodding. “There are quite a few concerns about
the issue.”
“Teyra, no one here happens to use a weapon from Rotheyan, do they?”
Varchi said, cutting across her.
She half-glared at him. “Unless you snuck one in, no.”
He frowned. “I’m hearing one, but I can’t see one.”
She shook her wings. “I’m sure if there was an enemy present, we would
know it. Very few can pass an Elf without being heard.”
She continued giving him an overview of what was happening, but he
stopped listening. He focused entirely on the song of the mysterious weapon.
It hummed quietly, waiting anticipation but refusing to reveal any clues as to
its whereabouts.
Then it changed. The song grew louder, singing with a murderous joy.
The king; its target was the king. But nothing was out of the ordinary up
by the king. The song became ecstatic, about to revel in the joy of blood.
Varchi bolted, not even sure what he was after. There may have been
movement to stop him, but he was untouchable.
He ran right past the king, slamming into something invisible. A sword
of Rotheyan make went soaring through the air, hitting the ground with a
metallic thud. Varchi’s force rammed the invisible being into the wooden
railing. The two slid down to the ground. Varchi’s hands searched for
something to grasp, to pin the attacker down. An unseen hand wrapped around
his throat and squeezed.
Now attempting to pry off the hand, Varchi found what felt like the
stomach of the attacker. He jammed his knee down hard. An audible “oof!”
escaped the assailant.
The song of Elven bows ready to fire surrounded Varchi.
“Show yourself, foe, lest you desire to learn what happens to the
unseen,” Teyra said, landing on the railing above Varchi.
For a moment, Varchi thought he wouldn’t show himself; the attacker
would prefer to die anonymous. But there was a brief hesitation, and the image
of the assassin flickered in front of them.
Were his throat free, Varchi would’ve backed off in shock. As it was, he
could only stare in shock at the face of Krant.
Krant smiled at him, taking no notice of the Lisheans who surrounded
him. He tightened his grip on Varchi’s throat.
“There are advantages to pretending to be dumb,” he whispered.
“People never watch what they say or do around me.” He sneered. “If I’m
going, you’re coming with me.”
The image of Krant wavered. Varchi’s lungs cried out for air.
Then he was released. He gulped in the air gratefully, all the while
staring at Krant’s body, peppered with Elven arrows. Hands grasped his arm
and helped him up. He looked to see Lotus at his side. She searched his eyes
carefully. Faintly, he could hear Teyra translating Krant’s last words and the
Elves discussing the turn of events.
 Without saying a word Lotus embraced him. He hesitated at first, not
sure what to do. Then he gently wrapped his arms around her waist. His lungs
still cried out for air. Exhaustion pulled at him. He gave in and kneeled,
pulling Lotus down with him. He focused only on her as memories of the
day’s events tried to invade his mind.
He heard the flapping of wings and Lotus moved her head slightly.
Slowly, reluctantly, he pulled away and turned to look at Teyra.
Teyra did not have her normal look of severity. Something had softened
it, if only by a little. When she had Varchi’s attention she ruffled her feathers
and straightened. “A decision has been made regarding you.”
Lotus grasped his hand, squeezing it gently.
“While they are still wary of you, stopping the assassination attempt on
the king’s life has certainly made them think differently,” she said. “They
have decided to send you away from the front lines and take you to the capital,
Nakis.” She was about to take off when something came to her. “Welcome to
Lishea.” There was a hint of a smile as she flew over to the king.
He leaned back against Lotus, closing his eyes and listening to the
peacefully affectionate song her bow sang.

Liked This Book?
For More FREE e-Books visit Freeditorial.com