Chapter 16: Mischief

Nero held Rina’s hand as they rushed away from the inn. No stupid adults were sending them back to Elvar. Nero glanced behind him while he ran, his ears wobbling as the breeze challenged their forward pursuit. People had to step out of the way as he carelessly ran through past them without regard.

“Nero, Rina is scared. What if Mistress Cah’lia becomes angry with her?”

“Don’t worry. My sister isn’t gonna do anything to ya. It’s me she’ll blame for this.”

They ran past a narrow merchant’s district, venders from all walks of life halting their negotiations to give awkward glances to the two fleeing children. One even tried to call out to them, asking if everything was all right. Nero sped past him without bothering to answer.

“Where are we going, Nero?” Rina seemed to have no problem keeping up. The former slave girl was fast on her feet.

“I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out when we get there.”

They sped past a courtyard filled with outdoor dining tables and young Elven maidens serving tea and crackers to rich merchants, and in some cases even nobles. Nero sprinted past them, running into another area filled with lush gardens and homes so big he wondered how people didn’t get lost inside them.

They paused to catch their breath, panting with the exertion of their flight. Rina’s eyes lit up.

“Nero, it’s beautiful here,” she said.

Nero looked around. They were in a vast garden with lush and exotic plants, trees with multicolor fruits, and swimming areas as large as ponds.

“I guess we’re in some rich Human’s backyard,” he said. “I wanna play!”

Rina gave Nero a disappointed look and crossed her arms. “Now is not play time, Nero! Rina and Nero must think of what to do next.”

Nero shrugged; the girl was all business. “We could always try traveling to the next city on our own. That would force them to allow us to stay with them when they finally catch up.”

“It’s too dangerous. Rina does not want to travel alone.”

“You wouldn’t be alone; you’ve got me. I’m the disciple of the Great Sehn!”

Rina gave Nero a doubtful look, but seemed to leave it at that. The two walked at a slow pace, admiring the creations of those with wealth. Everywhere they looked, they saw beauty. Whoever had designed the gardens had spared no expense to make sure that every last inch of land was perfect.

“Why do you think they don’t trust us, Rina? Why do they want to send us home?”

“Rina does not know. She only hopes that she will not be killed for running away. Running away from Master is the worst thing Rina can do.”

Nero gave her a sour look. “You need to stop with this Master thing, Rina. Don’t you get it? You’re not a slave anymore. You’ll never be one again.”

Rina trembled upon hearing this. “Rina does not know how to be anything else. She just wants to be useful to Master Sehn.” Nero sighed. He’d have to work on her a little bit at a time.

After a few minutes of walking, they emerged from the garden and back into the busy streets of Koringrath. People were engaged in loud conversations, bartering, and trying to secure the best deal they could on a multitude of items.

They walked into a narrow alley between two large inns. Nero was surprised upon entering, as he was sure all of Koringrath was beautiful. Yet it seemed that in the alleys of Koringrath, things were filthy and rundown.

There were beggars everywhere, broken bottles, discarded paper, and even half-eaten rotten food was smashed on the blackened pavement.

“Hey, little boy, can yas be sparin' some change for a lad?” a beggar asked.

Nero tried to ignore the beggar; he smelled like rot. Nero grabbed Rina’s hand and walked through the alley, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. There were things here that really bothered him. Men and women were lying on the ground with their eyes closed, more than likely dead or dying. No one stopped to help them or even seemed to care.

Rina held Nero close, shivering into his side. “Nero, Rina is starting to think this was not such a good idea.”

Nero tried to swallow his pride and be truthful. “I know what you mean.” He wasn’t sure, but it looked like the beggar from earlier was following them, his uneasy steps clattering against the filthy pavement. Only, he was not alone; several others were in tow.

Nero increased his grip on Rina’s hand and walked faster, the small girl offering no protest at the gesture. Each step he took made him more and more certain they were being followed. Nero had no idea how long the alley went on for, but he hoped it ended soon. Now almost six men were walking at a fast pace behind them.

Before he realized he was doing so, Nero was once again running with Rina. He looked behind him, and the beggars were following in close pursuit. They were in ripped, torn, clothing. Unshaved faces and looks of misery complemented their ragged garments and unwashed bodies.

Nero bumped into something hard, falling to the floor with Rina. He looked up into the face of an old, wicked beggar. The man was missing over half his teeth, and his breath reeked of alcohol.

“Nero!” Rina cried. “Rina is scared.”

The six men converged on them, and the one in front let out demented laugh.

“Hey there, little sweetie-children, whatch’a doing here? Gots yas any money we’s can be having? I sure do hope so.”

They closed in on the two, the stench alone an assault on Nero’s senses. They all carried knives or other makeshift weapons.

“We’s only be hurtings yas a little bit, Elfey. Come on, come gives us what yas got. Maybe we’s takes the little girl for ourselves,” he added with a smile.

Nero tried not to cry; he wouldn’t allow them that victory over him. He was the disciple of Sehn. These peasants would not lay a finger on him. With all his strength, he kicked the old disgusting beggar, but it only caused the man to laugh at him.

“Ohh, we gots a feisty little Elfey, does we boys? Garrith likes them so, he does he does he does.”

Nero tried to back up but fell to the ground, crawling backward on shaking palms, sliding across the rough, worn pavement, but still he refused to cry. The beggar, Garrith, reached a hand towards him: an old, wrinkly, and disgusting hand.

Nero spotted movement from the corner of his eyes. An Elf leaped down from an archway above them. There was a cry of pain as the extended hand was severed from the beggar’s wrist, causing blood to splatter on the floor around him. The knife went with the hand, coming to lie in the middle of the growing pool of blood. The man looked at the Elf with both fury and terror.

“What has yas done to old Garrith, Elfey!”

“Sehn!” Nero called.

The Elf turned, and Nero almost bit his lip when he saw the Elf’s face. It wasn’t Sehn—it wasn’t anyone he knew. It was a young Elf, around Sehn’s age, but his eyes were dark red versus Sehn’s passionate green, and he had a look of nobility to him that was normally only seen in the Elven royal families.

The butchery was so fast and so thorough that in the time it took Nero to end one breath and begin another, the Elf had already leapt at the seven beggars, dagger in hand. His moves were graceful, reminiscent of Cah’lia’s, but there was a fury behind them as he danced from man to man, slitting throats, puncturing lungs, and dealing death to those around him. All this he did without getting so much as a single drop of blood on his elegant black tunic and golden necklace.

When the slaughter had ended, he turned to the two children. “You are Nero, yes?”

Nero didn’t know how to respond. He was trembling. He had never before seen men killed. It was horrible. He cried like a newborn, sobbing along with the frantic Rina.

The Elf appeared to remain patient. “You are Nero, yes?” he asked again.

“Ye-yes,” Nero said. He had no clue how the man knew who he was, but he was far too shaken to ask.

The Elf extended both of his hands. Nero remained still a moment. With a deep breath, he and Rina grasped a hand each and were pulled back to their feet.

Nero forced saliva into his mouth and tried to phrase his questions with care, so as not to cause offense to this powerful Elf. He spoke in the formal tongue. It had been a while since he used it, and he hoped his words were proper.

“With the same grace that night turns to day, too have you shown to me, kind Elf. Mine life that thou hath saved, actions for if naught, would myself be such as those that lie before us now.”

The Elf smiled. “That was very good, young Elf. I’d have worded it slightly different, but well done nonetheless. But please, call me Saerith, and speak with ease, young Nero.”

Nero trembled at the Elf’s name. He grabbed Rina and forced them both to the ground, the little Human showing great confusion. He placed both of their heads on the dirty pavement.

“Your highness!” Nero shouted at him. “Forgive me, I had no idea.”

Saerith laughed. “Now, now, children, this floor is filthy, and it wouldn’t do to have you sickened by it. Please, on your feet.”

Nero cautiously rose to his feet, dragging Rina up along with him. He had to force himself to breathe. This man was the prince of all the Elven people, first in line to the throne. Of all places in the world where one would expect to find Saerith, a filthy alley between two Koringrathian inns numbered the lowest.

“How do you know who I am?” Nero asked, hoping the question was not rude.

“I know all about your little band of travelers, young Elf. Speaking of which…” he trailed off.

“Nero! Rina! Where the hell are you two?”

Sehn and Cah’lia came scrambling into the alley, stopping in an instant upon seeing the dead bodies and the unharmed forms of Nero and Rina.

“Oh, Nero!” Cah’lia ran to him, and Nero had to struggle as she clung to him for dear life in one of her bear hugs.

She turned to the Elf that had rescued them, and much like Nero had, she lost her breath. In the same quick manner as Nero, she threw herself to the ground and bowed before him.

“Sehn!” she called. Sehn walked over. “Bow, you fool! It’s the Elven prince.”

Sehn eyed the Elf with suspicion, before nodding his head. “Ah, you’re right. It is.”

Formally, the prince spoke, “Sehn, son of Suhn, heir to Chief of Elvar, mine pleasure upon our greetings, for at peace I am, to have met thee.”

“Yeah…” Sehn mumbled. “Look, I don’t really go for that shit.”

Nero watched as his sister squawked—actually squawked in surprise. She shouted at him, her voice such a high pitch that it came out as a broken whisper. “Sehn, watch what you say, you fool!”

Cah’lia got to her feet, and pleaded with the Elf. “Forgive him, your highness, he is but a foolish Elf and understands little of these affairs.”

Saerith laughed and waved off the remark. “Please, it is fine, I am just glad to have finally stumbled upon you two. I have been looking for you since you left Elvar. I have spoken with Suhn, and I believe there is a great mistake about to be made. Cah’lia, as prince to the throne, I demand you speak to me plainly and without formality. I must admit it is far too difficult to discuss matters of importance with the Elven formality. The same goes for you, Sehn. As your prince I demand that you also—”

“You dare make demands of the Great Sehn!”

Nero was speechless. Was Sehn actually disrespecting the prince of their race? Even for Sehn, this was going too far.

Saerith gave him an annoyed glance and turned to him. “Sehn, son of Suhn, why do you disrespect me so? Not only do you not bow, but you speak to me with such a rude tone. I am your prince.”

“And I am your God, peasant! I demand you bow before me this instant and remove one of your own body parts in apology!”

Saerith seemed to shake with anger. “Excuse me, my good Elf, but are you quite mad? I ask you again: do you know who it is you are speaking with?”

Cah’lia and Nero both made to diffuse the situation, while Rina watched clueless. The prince held out his hand, a silent order telling them not to intervene. Nero would not disobey the prince, and he suspected that neither would Cah’lia.

Sehn laughed at the prince. “Hah! I am quite sane, thank you. I know who you are, Prince Saerith. I find it insulting that you do not know me, for I am the man who shall crumble each one of your statues outside the holy city of Elvadin, and replace them with my own.”

Saerith ran his finger across his dagger, a rage beginning to form in his eyes. “I have come to you, Elf, because there are very important matters occurring under your very nose. I did not come here to quarrel, but if you continue to disrespect me, I will be forced to enact royal justice. Now, please, let us go somewhere less filthy and speak.”

“You want to go somewhere, do you prince? How about you ‘go’ fuck yourself with the pointed horn of a roaming Cockalith? Come, Nero, Rina, I want you two back at the inn at once! I’m not playing around here.”

Nero watched in awe as Sehn turned to walk away. Saerith grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around, forcing him to meet his gaze. His dagger was in his hand, and his face was a mask of fury.

“You not only turn your back to your prince, but you make such a grave insult? I should cut out your tongue for such disrespect to the throne!”

Cah’lia looked like all the blood had drained from her face, bordering on passing out.

Sehn laughed yet again. “Nero, where is my care-cup?”

Saerith held the dagger to Sehn’s neck, his dark red eyes promising death. “So, you wish to die, do you? You are too important, fool, but I might just cut one of your eyes out to teach you a lesson.”

Nero knew that a fight was going to break out; it was no longer avoidable. Sehn was going to raise a hand to royalty, among the most serious crimes an Elf could commit.

“Sehn, cease this at once!” a voice cried out.

Patrick, Rillith, and Daniel, followed by almost fifty men on horseback, rode single file through the narrow alley.

Sehn turned to him. “Patrick, do not presume to—”

Patrick rode alongside Sehn and, leaning over in his mount, punched him in the face, causing everyone, even Saerith, to gasp in surprise as Sehn landed hard on the ground, his eyes staring daggers at Patrick.

“Forgive me, your highness. My name is Patrick Vasilis, prince and heir to the Kingdom of the Seven Pillars. I am both honored and flattered to have you in our fine city, and I beg you to please direct all attempts at diplomacy to me. This moron you have been speaking with is incapable of acting any differently than you have just witnessed. One cannot make a tree sing, nor can they make a cat grow wings and fly. Sehn is Sehn, and I implore you to disregard his actions. Furthermore, I respectfully ask that you refrain from murdering any more of my citizens. My men have already found the beggar you have slain on the other end of the city. I do not know how Elven customs work, but slaughtering someone, even a lowly informant, is a crime to my people.”

Saerith nodded at the prince. “My subject has been most rude with me, but I see he travels with you. Very well, please lead the way out of this disgusting place, and perhaps we can engage in respectful dialogue.”

Sehn rubbed his head and sat up. “Patrick! For your crimes against the almighty Sehn, you shall—”

He was knocked to the ground yet again; this time it was Cah’lia who hit him over the head.

“I think I know what this is about,” she said.

Saerith nodded. “Good, then you shall accompany us, Cah’lia.” Cah’lia gave Rillith a look, and the tall, scarred man nodded.

“I’ll take care of Nero and the girl…and Sehn, of course. You two do what you need to.”

Nero watched as Patrick, the prince, and his sister sped off, and turned to look at the cursing, angry Sehn.

“Sehn,” Rillith began, “you were bound to find out sooner or later, so I’ll let you know now. Patrick is the prince of our Kingdom. I understand if you’ll need a moment to take this all in. “

Sehn spat on the ground. “Like I care about something like that! He shall pay for his disrespect.”

Rillith sighed. “Somehow I had a feeling this wouldn’t shake you. Ah well, please, let’s get out of his disgusting alley.”

Nero couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Patrick was a prince of all the Human people? It was amazing. All this time, Patrick was someone so special. Nero had a feeling that things were going to be very different from now on.