The king and I continue on horseback despite more suggestions from the elves to enter a wheelhouse. They don’t mean anything insulting by it; it’s just the custom of elven nobles to travel ‘covered’ through Elfdom. But we are not elves and I want to see everything I pass, to take in as much of this world as possible. It’s such an elegant mix of trees and homes. It has a sort of fairytale quality to it, and is part of what makes the elves so endearing to me. Even if the magic faded a little after hearing Lord Erriam explain how much work it took to construct it all.
It’s sweat and tears whether you’re making a fairytale castle or a giant skyscraper. No magic wands involved. It’s just plain, hard work either way.
As the days pass the pleasant views start to shift to something darker and older. The trees are thick with roots that are so long and wide they disrupt even the path we trod, and slow both horse and wagon on their journeys. Fewer houses are seen as well and eventually they disappear altogether as the canopy of leaves above us becomes so thick I can hardly tell the difference between night and day.
“What is this place?” I mutter.
“It’s the oldest part of the forest,” replies the king. “An area so wild that even the elves have not succeeded in taming it.”
“And this is where the dryad is? What is she even doing out here?”
“Causing trouble apparently,” the King replies quietly. “The elves have lost whole detachments of their soldiers in the woods looking for her.”
I quiver a little. “And I’m supposed to succeed where the elven army failed?”
“Not just you,” the king reminds me.
My heart sinks remembering ‘the fiancé’. “You mean the princess’s future husband?”
“Indeed. Myran Telos is quite the fighter I hear. Made a name for himself hunting sharks in the grass when no else would bother. Saved a lot of travelers that way apparently. Human and elf alike.”
Well, that’s something I guess.
“He’s not the one I’m interested in though,” the king continues.
Not the one?
“They’re bringing along a cleric. A human cleric.”
I nod. “Yes, I met him once before.”
The king raises his brows. “Did you now? And what did you make of him?”
I shrug. “Not much really. I only spoke with him briefly. He came across as a bit….aggressive.”
The king chuckles. “Well that doesn’t surprise me.”
“Do you know him?”
The king strokes his chin and gazes into the distance. “I do. He’s a deserter from the Astrian army.”
I almost fall-off Dauntless I’m so shocked. “A deserter?”
“Quiet,” the king says, glancing around. “You want all of elfdom to know?”
“Sorry, Majesty.”
The King sighs. “Though it’s likely that many of them do, and certainly Lord Erriam does. It may be part of the reason he was chosen for this quest.”
“As a punishment?” I ask.
“I don’t think so,” the King muses. “Eriam is clever, even sly at times, but not typically vengeful or vindictive. It wasn’t the elves the cleric abandoned. It was us.”
“Should I refuse his aid then?” I ask. “Since he dishonored himself.” Not that I like the idea of going to battle with only Myran at my side.
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Leo scoffs. “Can we afford to reject anyone’s aid at this point? Still I appreciate the question. And it is ultimately your decision, but I suspect you may value his skills. Even I have heard rumors about Cyrus the Vicar.”
I wonder what those rumors could be but the king doesn’t elaborate, and I do not press him.
Full of surprises is his majesty – like Mr. Baggins himself.
But this is not Lord of the Rings and I am neither Aragorn or Gandalf. I could be Frodo I guess but the hobbits were quite good at cooking and most of my vittles came from the frozen food section of Kroger.
I do miss those tombstone pizzas though. Especially pepperoni.
Our caterpillar slows as the last of our road fades to dirt and our progress is further hindered by travelers moving in the other direction. Elves that are marching, hobbling, or even being carried back to civilization. Their faces are grim, their armor chipped and sullied, some are still bleeding with red spots seeping through thick bandages. The king scowls.
“They look like they’ve been through a war,” I whisper.
“Who’s to say they haven’t?”
Well, there’s a pleasant thought.
We eventually arrive at a structure of sorts, a makeshift fort resting deep in the wilderness. The structure looks like it’s falling apart even though the King says it was recently built.
“That’s what happens when you try to build in the elder wood,” the King says. “The trees fight back.”
The king talks like the forest is not just alive, but has a will of its own. I wonder what that will might be. Whatever it is, it doesn’t seem friendly.
An elven sentry approaches us at the fort’s entrance. “Wait a moment if you please, Majesty. We have to get his Lord Erriam situated in the fort and will be with you directly.”
“Certainly,” the king responds. “There’s no rush for us. Maker knows there’s lots of interesting things for us to do out here.”
The elf gives the smallest of smiles and then bows respectively and leaves. We wait upon our horses as there is actually nothing else for us to do in the meantime.
“He seemed to like your joke, Majesty.” I say.
“Yes, he liked it because it’s true. Unless you count fighting and dying as interesting.”
“Well,” I say with my own smile. “I certainly wouldn’t call them boring.”
The king laughs and soon enough the sentry returns and ushers us inside. The interior of the fort is dirty, disorganized, and unkept. Very unlike the elves. There are also whole trees still intact inside its walls. They are giant things that must have trunks too tough or too time consuming to bring down. The roots I see running along the ground are so thick I can only imagine how big they are underneath.
“These trees can walk,” says the king.
“Walk?”
He nods. “Not a lot. A foot a week maybe. But they can move if they want. The root system is that powerful.”
So they’re Ents basically. Maybe this is Lord of the Rings after all.
“That will be your cabin, sir,” the elf says to me as he points at a humble wooden box several yards away. “It may not be what you’re used to, but it’s all we can offer at present.”
I can’t tell if that’s a dig at my presumed nobility or not, though it would be funny if he was. I’d love for him to see the apartment building I lived in. It’s an absolute hole in the wall compared to the center of his elven world.
No one would mistake me for a noble back home.
“This will be fine,” the king speaks for me. “We don’t require much. I can stay there as well in fact.”
The elf waves the suggestion away. “No, no, majesty. Our Lordship is sharing his personal cabin with you.”
It’s good of Erriam to share his cabin like that. It shows he considers my king an equal. Plus, it’s also just a kind thing to do.
“But before either or you settle in,” the sentry continues, “his lordship has asked me to take you to the meeting.”
“The meeting?” The king says. “What meeting?”
“All the leaders are there, Majesty: his Lordship and his officers. They are discussing his plan for the dryad I believe. Is that not why you came here? To kill her and save our woods from invasion?”
Invasion? That’s the first I’ve heard of an invasion. An invasion of what? Wandering tree roots?
“Yes,” the king says slowly, as he also mulls the words over. “Yes, of course. Please lead on.”
The sentry leads us deeper into the makeshift fort. There’s a lot of foot traffic here as people bustle from building to building. Some cooking, others fetching a healer, some just chatting. It feels like some camp out of a Hollywood war movie but with elves and swords instead of nazis and machine guns.
We reach the largest cabin and the elf stops before it. He gestures to the door. “At your pleasure,” he says. “I believe they’re waiting for you.”
The king dismounts but I pause for a moment looking at Dauntless. “What about our horses?”
The sentry looks at the king and then they both look at me. I guess it’s a strange question.
“They will be stabled, sir. Not to worry, we will care for them as if they are our own.”
I dismount myself and give Dauntless a smack on his neck. “Take care of yourself, you hear?”
“Always,” the horse neighs back, “and you do likewise, sire.”
The sentry looks at me a little strangely, but I couldn't care less.
“Alright,” I say, and glance at the king. “I’m ready to go.”