The Last Elf of Lanis (22 page)

“Not very well,” Alrhett said with satisfaction, surveying the galleries of citizens who waved and smiled at her with desperate affection.

“They still can pass the death warrant upon you,” the other guard whispered. “Be very, very careful.”

“Court is in session!” A bailiff cried, and the crush of spectators silenced.

“You stand accused of the foul murder of Lord Argotine, abandoning your throne for nefarious purposes, conspiring to kill all the Lords of the Courts, and thereby destroying the whole government, peace and life of the people of the Weald, Alrhett, former Queen,” Judge Summeninquis intoned with a weighty, deep voice. “How do you plead?”

Alrhett rose to her feet and looked the judge square in the eye.

“I am not guilty,” she said with regal dignity. The citizens in attendance nearly broke into applause, but Judge Summeninquis banged his gavel.

“Silence,” he said. “Yulenth, former ambassador of Glaf, and still a Glaf citizen, and so not bound by Weald law, there are no charges against you. If you will testify against Alrhett and reveal her guilt, you may go free this very instant.”

Yulenth cleared his throat. “I suppose,” he said, “you’d best keep me in jail, since I can tell you, with the honesty of a man of Glaf, and you know we are honor bound to tell the truth no matter how unpleasant, that this woman before you is innocent.” The crush of spectators exclaimed so strongly that the judge quickly called for the trial to be postponed until the next day.

“Your honor!” Alrhett cried. “I ask that I be allowed to move about Rogar Li without restriction since I will not leave the city, so eager am I to prove my innocence.’

“Yes, yes,” Summeninquis said as he, and the other judges made a hasty exit from the courtroom, with the whole gallery about to explode.

“Alrhett! Alrhett!” The people cheered and carried her and Yulenth out of the courtroom. Alrhett begged the crowd to set her down.

“Let us go about our everyday lives,” she said to the throng. “We are earnest to tell Our whole story, and for you to hear it. But, let there be no commotion, nor unrest. The people of the Weald have always prided themselves upon their intelligence and learning, so let us not behave as animals, even in troubled times.”

With that, the potentially unruly mob dispersed with glad slaps on the back for their returned queen, and angry glances in the direction of the Great Judge’s court.

The guards who had escorted Alrhett and Yulenth to the trial hall were also assigned to protect them, and keep them within the city limits.

Alrhett was allowed to return to her royal palace with Yulenth. It was dusty and unkempt. Much of the furniture and art objects had gone missing. But, it still had a bed and some chairs and tables.

“Seems rather expansive” Yulenth said, “specially empty like this.”

“I’d trade it all for my own bed with you in Bittel,” Alrhett said hugging Yulenth tight. “Listen,” she said gazing deep into his eyes, “if anything happens to me, flee for your life. They will not spare you for a moment without my protection.”

“Hmmph,” Yulenth said holding her tighter. “They’ll have to get through me first, so there’s no worry about that.” And then he kissed her. “And besides, you got those two to look after you,” Yulenth motioned to the two guards, who loyally stayed close to their every footstep. “I think they could fend off a pack of crazed doderns.”

“What are your names?” Alrhett asked the tall, youthful guards.

“I am Matclew, and this is my brother, Drepaw,” Matclew said with a deep bow, his dark brown hair flopping forward.

“Brothers,” Yulenth said with musing approval.

“Our home is your home,” Alrhett said to them. “Matclew,” she said, “go out and invite as many who will come, to eat their dinners here. We have nothing to offer. But We would like to tell the people of Our journeys, if they wish to hear of them.”

“Yes, My Queen,” Matclew said with another bow, and quickly left to spread the invitation.

Right away, the citizens of the Weald began to arrive at the royal palace with arms loaded with bread, fish, cured meats, nuts, fresh vegetables and pots of stew.

Alrhett respectfully took a small bit of every dish or food offered her, while Yulenth sat, happy in a corner, gorging himself on the continually growing pile of food brought to him. Alrhett stood to address the crowded room.

“My dear fellow wealdkin,” Alrhett began, “I have so missed you and my home.”

Yulenth was not astonished to see how easily her mantle of authority fell once again onto her shoulders. She seemed to grow an inch, stand straighter, and gave an air of security and strength that he had not seen in over a decade.

An elderly man in tattered clothes shuffled in with the crowd. He seemed nervous and quietly agitated. His eyes were restless and always downcast. Matclew and Drepaw watched him carefully. Assassinations were all too common among the political vipers of Rogar Li.

“I must start,” she continued, “with the terrible civil war of the Weald, which as you know, lasted ten years, took half our population, and strained forever our relations with the wealdkin of the Eaststand. Many of you were children, or too young to fight, but I’m certain you remember the terror and destruction. The civil war ended with a peace agreement between aged Ergester, the High Lord of the Eaststand and my husband, Bosruss, who, you were all told, lasted long enough to sign the peace agreement, before he succumbed to the injuries he sustained in the war. This was not true. My husband, your king was murdered and his signature forged.”

A shocked murmur rippled through the crowd. Alrhett waited for this to sink in.

“I do not suppose he was assassinated,” she went on, “for I was there when Ergester and his foul killers took my
husband's
life. He insisted on my daughter’s hand in marriage to consolidate his power. As you know she was barely nineteen years of age, against his more than eighty. I had to flee my friends. I had no choice. I found a small, hidden village in the Eastern Meadowlands. We have lived there in safe, happy seclusion for over sixteen years with my second husband, Yulenth.”

The
elderly, tattered man, who still had a powerful frame, stood, tears streaming down his face.
Matclew and Drepaw tensed ready to tackle him if he leapt forward.
“I was one of the murderers who took your husband’s life,” he said. “My soul has been in torment ever since. I am glad to have life, only for this moment, to confirm your words, Great Queen.” With that, he stepped to a window, and threw himself out to his death, on the forest floor far below.

The shock of the wealdkin was replaced only a moment later by chattering and gossip.

“What of your daughter Wynnfrith?” A lord with an angry, red face asked
, trying to quiet the murmuring throng
.

“She married a sober, young man in my hidden village,” Alrhett answered. “They have a boy, fifteen years of age.”

Another shocked murmur ran through the crowd.

“An heir! An heir to the throne!” The crush of people muttered to each other in happy astonishment.

“But,” Alrhett held up her hand, “he is lost somewhere, possibly here in the Weald. He seeks a young woman stolen by the garonds.”

“We must find the heir! Find him!” A cry went up.

A gangly young man stood, and the crowd quieted in respect.

“I will use all the resources of the Messenger Guild to find him,” he said.

“I humbly thank you and the Guild, Hermergh,” Alrhett said.

The crush of people took turns thanking and greeting their Queen, then hurried out to spread the word.

Yulenth shook his head. His wife was so powerful, yet she was no tyrant, nor a despot. He loved her all the more.

The room refilled with another crowd, and Alrhett told her story all over. She did this four more times until guards from the High Court forbade her speaking anymore to the citizens of the Weald. But, the damage to the politics of the High Court was already done. Alrhett had spoken to her people, and the suicide of the assassin sealed her words as truth.

Matclew and Drepaw cleared the last
well-wishers
and bowing lords,
and then
positioned themselves at the only two entrances to the royal palace. That night Alrhett and Yulenth slept soundly for the first time in many nights.

The next morning, Alrhett and Yulenth woke to a great alarm. The city was abuzz with the news of a garond army massing on the south bank of the Bairn River. They were attempting to take the Three Bridges of Rogar Li. Every citizen was given arms and rushed out to defend the ancient bridges.

Yulenth readied himself to go, as well.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Alrhett asked.

“If they take the bridges, your trial and all of Rogar Li will be irrelevant,” Yulenth said with a huff.

“Then I will come with you,” Alrhett said.

“You are not to leave the city,” Yulenth said, looking over at her nervously shifting guards.

“If I do not go out,” she said loudly for the benefit of Matclew and Drepaw, “with the wealdkin, to fight for the Three Bridges, then I most assuredly will be abandoning my city.”

Matclew smiled at her logic, and the four of them rushed out and down, with the host of fearful citizens who were emptying the city, down to meet the garond army at the Three Bridges of Rogar Li on the southern side of the Bairn River.

Hundreds of humans from the capitol of the Weald rushed down through the towering trees to the open place where the River Bairn boiled in rapid turmoil. The sight was frightening.

Thousands
of garonds swarmed on the south bank, bristling with spears and swords, black clad and bellowing war cries, their human slaves bringing weapons and supplies to the front lines. The late afternoon sun beat down on the vicious struggle playing out on all three bridges.

The Three Bridges of Rogar Li were old, erected in a bygone age when men had more skill and knowledge. They gracefully arced over the white, angry water and were covered in ornate, swirling designs, of gods and animals at play. The bridges were wide. Ten men could easily walk abreast, and this made holding even just one bridge vital.

Yulenth approached a captain of the Weald army.

“It looks bad,” Yulenth said. “If they take but one bridge, their numbers will spill onto our shore until they have all three.”

“If that happens,” the captain said, “then all the Weald is lost.”

Human archers on the northern shore peppered the garonds with arrows and supported the troops hacking at the heavily armored garonds trying to push their way across.

As human or garond fell from the bridges into the water, evil fish, churning the river below, tore their bodies to pieces.

“Marowdowr!” Yulenth exclaimed.

On the south side, the garonds had no bow and arrows, but they did have a few machines which would launch large stones over the river into the human ranks, crushing with blood curdling screams.

“We have to destroy the bridges,” Yulenth called to the captain over the din of battle.

“My Queen?” The captain asked Alrhett.

“Yulenth is right,” she said. “It is better to destroy our beautiful bridges than lose all our lives.”

“But how can we do it?!” The captain yelled as another large missile struck close by. “If we destroy one they surely will focus all their efforts on the remaining bridges and take them. As they try to take all three, we have kept them at bay.”

Yulenth gnawed on his knuckle. His brain worked furiously.

“Have you any oil?” Yulenth shouted to the captain as an idea struck him.

“Yes,” the captain said. “Mostly rendered oil, for lanterns-“

“Perfect!” Yulenth cried.

Then with hasty instructions, he and the captain gathered several men to spill as many barrels of oil as they could on their sides of all three bridges.

The oil made it very difficult for the humans to hold their places on the bridge. But, the brave and stalwart soldiers did their best.

The garonds felt the weariness of the humans and the growing strength of their numbers, and they pulled back to their side of the river to make a final rush. All was momentarily quiet.

“Now is our chance,” Yulenth whispered to himself. He turned to a battery of archers, and hissed, “
On
my signal, and only on my signal. All three bridges must burn together at the same time or all is lost.”

Yulenth made his way down to the middle bridge and yelled across to the garond warriors preparing for a massive onslaught that would almost certainly take all three of the Bridges of Rogar Li.

“We have had enough of your murders and violence!” Yulenth cried to the garonds on the other side. “This is our land and we will keep it! You vile beasts go back!” Yulenth raised his fist, and then aggressively dropped it. “Now!”

At his command, hundreds of arrows wrapped in oil soaked, flaming cloth struck all three bridges. The fire was immediate and explosive as the bridges were very dry.

The garonds rushed forward to try to put out the fire, but it was too late. The Three Bridges of Rogar Li burned like a harvest bonfire.