I shared all of this with Waldinor, the lockets and everything. He was gradually growing used to the concept. It was obvious that his inclusion meant a great deal to him.
We went to the zoo and saw a very young pair of Copper Dragon siblings. We watched a play in the park, a comedy with some bawdy humor in it I hadn't been prepared for, but Waldinor seemed to understand all of it.
We stopped at a little cafe for , a sort of flat bread with honey glazed fruit wrapped in it and fried, an Elven delicacy. To top the day off, I had one of our young Wizards cast spells on us both and we soared over the Boulevard, perched on high limbs, swooped down over the heads of the Gray Elves going about their daily routines, and landed safely back on the veranda of our rooms.
Waldinor had never experienced anything like that, and his laughs and smiles were infectious.
“How was your day, young man? Did you enjoy yourself?"
“It was the best day of my life, Your Majesty! Thank you so very much!"
“If you think the other kids would like it too, maybe we can make it a regular event. Say once a month?"
“Oh, I should think they'd love it, Your Majesty. That sounds splendid."
“If I make it back this evening alive, I'll make that happen. You fellows do remarkable work and you should have a chance to get in some fun every now and then. I'm sorry if I seem to be thinking more about myself than about things like that. I'm in a position now to make those around me as happy as I am and I want to take advantage of it.
One of these days, I'll be calling on you boys to do what we're doing now. You're part of this little family of ours.”
"Do you mean becoming a god, Your Majesty?”
"Yes. If that's something you'd like to do.”
"I'll have to ask my Mum if it pleases you, Sire.”
“Well, not just yet, Waldinor. This would be some years away. And it's all still very hush hush. Just between the two of us.
Tell me, Waldinor, have you given much thought as to what you'd like to be when you grow up?"
“Oh, yes, Your Majesty! I would very much like to be a Ranger. Become expert with the bow, tracking, scouting, doing reconnaissance. All of those things."
“Then you're well familiar with the story of Milost Phaeronyón?"
That caused the boy to blush noticeably.
“Yes, Your Majesty. He's my hero. I want to be exactly like him. Not a Barrow Elf, Sire, just the Ranger part.”
"I understand. He's quite the warrior. It gives me peace of mind knowing he's around.”
"What would you say if we started getting you headed in that direction? I think many young boys and girls should like to be Rangers. Maybe we can talk Milost into starting a program to educate these young Rangers from an early age. Riding and shooting, tracking and fencing?"
"It would be another dream come true, Your Majesty.”
"Very well. I'll get with Milost and begin to put that all together. For now, we must part ways. I have a very important appointment to keep at sundown you know.”
He became downcast at the mention of the duel. We both had been putting off confronting that reality all day. But time was growing short and it would have to be done.
"I very much enjoyed our time together today, Waldinor. Here's to hoping we can do it again soon. Now off with you! Enjoy the rest of your day.”
The boy ran over and put his arms around me, hugging me as tightly as he could.
"Please come back, Sire. We need you here with us. And thank you again so very much for what you did today.”
He backed away, wiping tears from his cheeks and turned to leave me alone.
It was just past two bells. Sundown was at six bells in the Taliswood. It was much earlier in the Waste. Especially in its Eastern region. I would need to leave in two hours to be punctual.
Everything was ready on my end. My armor was freshly cleaned, my rapier and dagger sharpened and polished. There was nothing for me to do but wait. That would be interminable.
I decided to go to the chapel to spend some time communing with élois. That would go a long way in calming my nerves and helping me center myself.
Kneeling there as I did, the time flew by me. I cleared my mind and just allowed what I knew of the teachings of élois to slowly enter and leave my consciousness. Taking and holding on to what I needed for this duel.
And then there it was. The tower bell rang four. It was time to go. Though he hasn't been there physically, the presence of the spirit of élois was strong in that small sanctuary. I knew he would be with me for the fight.
I quickly got back to our rooms and donned my armor with Timmins' help. And then it was time. I thought of the Daggers, and I was there. The dying orange light of the sun dimmed by the millions of particles of sand tearing through the air.
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As soon as I had made it out of the wind, there he was. Once again, Lasca was the second and May appeared as well.
She ran to me, hugging my neck and giving me a deep, long kiss.
“I love you, My Prince. More than life. I'll be here when you're done, or with you in the Flat Fields soon enough. Now, go make them know they're on the wrong side.”
"I love you, too, My Queen. I'll win this for us. You just stay right there. Maybe you'll learn something.”
"Just send him to Hell, Darling. There's no room for him here.”
One more kiss and I began the walk to a halfway point between us, the Monk and me.
I stopped there and drew steel. My rapier and dagger glimmering in the waning sunlight.
Lasher began to step toward me, making a grand show, punching the air, kicking around himself, with every move he yelled something unintelligible, like barks. Whether to instill fear or to amplify his exertions, they were annoying, echoing off of the many red rock spires around us. Finally, he arrived at his spot, put his hands together, and bowed to me. I returned the gesture with a nod.
“Begin!" he yelled.
Unexpectedly, he began to do back handsprings, one, two, three, approximately fifteen feet away, he pulled his whip from his belt. A well worn thing made of braided strips of black leather with a frayed cracker at the end of its length. He pulled it back and brought it forward. Just before reaching my face, he jerked it back with a flick of the wrist making a popping noise like a lightning strike.
I would have to pay better attention than that. Like most show offs, he could have seriously hurt me just then, but his move had been made for show, for me, for May and Lasca, for the gods, to stroke his own ego.
“You don't know, Mister Bascombe, how much I've anticipated this moment."
“Why is that, Mister Lorquayón?"
“Because of Carca, Sir. She's obsessed with you. With the perceived adaptability of Humans."
“What do you mean, Sir?"
“All she can talk about is how you've grown and how quickly you've done it. Oh, she's followed your every move. Thinks you're the greatest asset you have — you who call yourselves the Eleven."
“Well, I'm terribly flattered, Mister Lorquayón, truly. But I don't see what that has to do with anything."
“It's important because I've been given this opportunity. In the next few minutes I'll conclusively demonstrate that Carca's sentiments toward you are rubbish. Her assessment of your abilities, your strengths, your talents, all rubbish.”
"You make it seem terribly personal, Sir. Have I done something to offend you personally?”
"You've married the most beautiful woman in all the kingdoms. You. A Human. It's an honor that should have fallen upon an Elf.”
"So it's jealousy then?”
"It's an outrage. An outrage for which you'll die and for which she'll grieve. I really shouldn't blame you, I know. You're in this situation because of May's embrace of the perverse. You were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Now it's come back to bite you. Apologies to you, Mister Bascombe. I'll make it quick.”
As he said this, the Monk assumed god form and I did as well. Putting my left foot behind me, I assumed a defensive stance and waited for him to begin playing his hand.
His opening move was to drop to the ground and attempt a leg sweep which I leapt over without much problem. He got up and came at me with a flurry of punches aimed at my chest and head, jab after jab, backing me up until I saw the opportunity to strike back. His left fist fell just short of my face and the right was right behind it. I raised the blade of my rapier and sliced him across his hand wraps. Blood spurting freely to the ground.
He backpedaled ten feet away from me but I pursued. Drawing my blade across his left thigh, I caught his left fist with my dagger, cutting that badly as well.
The Lasher ran out of my range and brought out his whip. Dodging slightly to my right, the pop of the cracker mere inches from my ear stole my hearing on that side, all except for a high pitched whistle. If not for my gift, that would have been my eye.
The whistling didn't seem to abate as I had expected. Rather it was slowly increasing in volume, beginning to affect my vision and my thoughts. What was going on here?
The Lasher was the God of Punishment. Perhaps any pain he inflicted grew with time instead of fading. I had to find a way to stop it lest I not be able to defend myself at all.
In an act of desperation, I prayed,
“élois, if you hear. Please, My Lord, grant me relief!"
Miraculously, within moments, the whistling stopped. My head was clear, and I laughed.
The Lasher was furious. He cracked his whip at me again, and this time I caught it between crossed blades and sliced off a good five feet.
"Damn you, Human!” he shouted at me across the sand.
Throwing the whip aside, he went to his knees, eyes closed as if he was meditating.
Something was amiss. He was preparing for something unexpected. Something for which I didn't know how to prepare. Then the space over his head began to glow a vibrant red. My senses were trying to tell me something.
The red circle was twirling as with the passing of the sun, in a rightward spinning blur. The Monk's eyes sprang open and the circle stopped spinning, rather it was pulsing fiercely.
I flicked my dagger to my right hand and threw it at that spot with all my might. As it left my fingers, the Lasher began to transform into some kind of Dust Devil twisting about on its tail in a chaotic frenzy. And he grew right into the path of the dagger.
He was not yet fully formed and the blade sped through the nimbus of dust circling about him and lodged firmly in his gut. The dust fell away and his now fully corporeal body slumped to the sand.
Grasping for the dagger, he pulled it out releasing gouts of blood. Hopping to his feet he said
“Surely you don't think I'm done so easily, My Prince."
"No, Mister Lorquayón. I'm sure you have several more pints of blood to give before you expire. But I'd suggest using them wisely. You haven't long and the Flat Fields are calling.”
The sneer on his face was corrosive. So much hatred. How easily that could lead to one's undoing.
Once again he began to come at me doing handsprings, surprisingly unhindered by his grievous wound.
Ten feet from me, he sprang forward from his feet with his left leg tucked and his right extending before him in what would be a devastating blow. But I had seen it. I saw the maneuver a full second before he launched.
I ducked and ran my rapier’s point up through his groin as he passed over my head.
Screaming, he fell to the ground rolling across the sand in agony. I looked over just in time to see Lorca vanish with a look of disgust on her face.
I went over to the Lasher's squirming form and kicked him hard enough to put him on his back.
He looked up at me, our gazes meeting, the enmity palpable, as I swiftly ran my blade across his throat. We both shrank to normal size again, him gasping for air, gurgling noises indicating he was getting very little. And the light left his eyes.
May was at my arm immediately, dousing the body with her oil flask and using her cantrip to light it ablaze.
“I've never been more proud in my life, My Prince."
“I expected more from him, May. I built it up so big in my mind. Yet here am I without a scratch. I barely broke a sweat."
The sun had finally shrunk from the sky and the stars were putting on their nightly play — a comedy this evening.
“Let's get back to Nez Ambril, My Love. A hot bath and some rest sounds divine.”
"Yes it does. And speaking of divine, élois saved me back there.”
"I know, Darling. I heard your prayer.”
"What worries me, May, is the ease with which we're winning these fights. It won't be this way against Carca and the Black King. We can't allow ourselves to get lax, not for a moment.”
“That's a thought for tomorrow, My Love. I think tonight we should just think about us."
“I'm glad I married a woman with her priorities straight. To us."
“To us."