The Solitary Arrow Ch. 21
Wendy pressed into him and put one hand upon his encircling arm. "Hyandai certainly has taught you smooth words," she said with an appreciative sigh. "I cannot wait to hear them in elven."
"Probably not too long," ventured Harlen, "before you can do just that." He looked around the crowd. "I've been learning quite a lot of elven from Hyandai."
A slow nod from Wendy was his reply. "I wish to learn it, as well," she said. "It's a lovely language."
"Are you really happy with the 'handmaiden' arrangement?" asked Wendy.
Harlen blinked at her, having, himself, for once, been caught flatfooted by a non sequitur.
"Why wouldn't I be?" he asked. "I mean it when I say you two are the most desirable women in the land."
Wendy chuckled. "That would make me a distant number two of the top two, then," she murmured. "Hyandai is gorgeous."
"Bullshit!" spat Harlen. "You're extremely pretty. Hell, had I known you were in town, I would have come to see you right off, even if Tammer had tried to bribe me away." Harlen let out a low laugh. "I thought, when I was fourteen, that my heart would break in two when you left."
He paused a long moment. "It rather peeves me a bit, actually," said Harlen, "that there is not a bit more difference in the looks of you two, Hyandai and you. A bit of variety, if you will."
She giggled at that. "Well, I have round ears," offered Wendy, "and a bigger bu . . . "
Wendy was interrupted by Tammer mounting a table and ringing a small bell. The old ranger reached into his pocket and pulled out that odd glowing green stone that Harlen had seen before the battle. He held it to his throat and began speaking.
"People of Embalis!" pronounced Tammer. "Hear me. This day, a glorious day, where an old alliance of men and elves has been tried once again, and has been shown to amount to more than the sum of its parts." He was turning to take in the gathered folk about him, revolving in a slow circle. "I have been asked to give leave to allow some portion of the company of Rangers of Morrovale to stay in Embalis, for manifold reasons. This I have the authority to do, but only for a year and a day, as stipulated by the old agreements."
Harlen felt Hyandai's hand upon his arm. He turned to look at her smiling face.
"Fifty volunteers have offered to stay, and I feel that is a manageable number that the duke will not be too wroth to surrender," continued Tammer. "However, it is necessary for the people of Embalis to provide them with training in exchange for the time they sacrifice from their professions."
"Among other, less tangible, benefits," said Hyandai, in a low stage whisper at Harlen's elbow. Harlen put his arm around his betrothed and pulled her to him.
"Shush," murmured Harlen, pulling Hyandai close, "you'll ruin his moment."
Hyandai whispered into his ear. "The elves are eager to have them, Harlen, let them not fool you," she whispered. "There is already a bit of hen squabbling going on between some of the women over the fifty that are staying."
"Did so many men die?" asked Harlen in a low voice.
"Not quite," replied Hyandai. "Those men are heroes right now; a very desirable commodity. There will be elf-lads unaccompanied to bed tonight, though, admittedly, not many. The fool Isolationists forced many more people into the Warwolf camp, though. Most of them would now be either dead or displaced, were it not for human assistance. It rather drives the point home."
Harlen thought a moment. "And a Warwolf precept is the intermingling of human and elven bloodlines and cultures," he said, his eyes widening in recognition.
"Exactly," said Hyandai, with a smile.
"Why do I feel I may have been manipulated?" accused Harlen, his eyes gaining a small measure of real suspicion.
"No, beloved," replied Hyandai, stroking his arm. "You have not been used. Perhaps I was, but given the outcome, I resent it not."
He looked down at the exceptional woman on his arm and at her deep green eyes. There was no duplicity there; all he saw was affection for him, and for Wendy, when Hyandai turned her eyes to the younger woman.
Wendy had been listening to their conversation and leaned in. "Will not the elven blood thin among us more numerous humans?" she asked.
"Somewhat," said Hyandai. "But not utterly. Elven blood is thick, indeed, and signs of it may appear far into the depths of even the most dispersed bloodline."
Tammer had finished his speech to a polite applause from the humans and elves about him. He stepped down from the table and put the green stone in his pocket. "What is that thing?" asked Harlen, looking at Wendy. "The glowing stone."
"It translates words into the native tongue of the hearer," replied Wendy. "I used it when we were moving alongside the traitor forces before the gates to speak with their commander's aide."
Harlen nodded. "I saw that," he said. "You would be the only human among the lot who could pass for an elf on sight."
"It is a tana'yondo," said Hyandai. "A speaking stone." Then she giggled. "We used to sell those to humans, as well, like the calyondos. They were quite dear, I am told."
After the speech, the festivities moved into gear again. Most of the underage participants, with the exception of a few of the eldest juveniles had departed for bed, and the revelries moved to a more mature level. Dance music was again played, and the clear patch of ground amid the glowing lamps filled with people moving with slow grace. A majority elven, but no few humans attempted the complex and rather demanding steps.
This entertained the elven folk a great deal, though the humans were quick studies, and the dance looked more complex than it, in actuality, was. Hyandai grabbed Wendy's hand and pulled her toward the dance area.
"You dance, too?" asked Harlen. This question was rewarded by a look from Hyandai and Wendy both of profound disbelief.
"Harlen," said Wendy, with infinite patience, "she's an elf."
Hyandai giggled. "Yes, Harlen, of course I dance," she said. "And you will too, very soon. For what man betrothed to an elf cannot dance?"
They ran into the dancing area and moved together, bodies held close and spinning about. Harlen soon figured out why this portion of the celebration had been saved for after the departure of the junior attendees. The moves were very sultry and some would have scandalized Morrovale society for weeks.
"If you hurt her, I will turn you into a fine stew," said the voice of Tammer from just behind Harlen.
The huntsman turned to regard his old mentor. "I would never consider it," he said. "Your granddaughter is as precious to me as Hyandai."
"I know," said Tammer. "That is the only reason I give you three my blessings." His old eyes were misty. "And even then, Harlen, it is not easy to say. My Oneian teachings scream that it is not quite right." He paused a moment, watching the two beautiful women dance. "She seems very happy, though, happier than since she returned from Ghant." His face took on a rather feeble stern look. "She moped for most of four months, since that day. I am gladdened to see her smiling and laughing, even if it means welcoming a lout into my family."
"And an elf," added Harlen.
"Yes, and an elf," repeated Tammer. "My poor family tree will be chock full of vagabonds and forest frolickers." His face took on a sudden look of hypothetical alarm. "Just how the hell does one represent a three-way arrangement in a family tree, tell me that, Master Harem?"
"More branches?" replied Harlen, shrugging. "Ask Hyandai, she's a scribe and an elf, and she says it's not all that rare in their communities."
"I'll do just that," said Tammer, his face now adopting a satisfied air, having been handed a quite sensible solution. "I only somewhat envy you, boy. You have heard the old saw about 'serving two masters'?" The elder huntsman chuckled. "You may find two Mistresses an even sorer trial," he concluded.
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LADIES IN NUDE
Russian Brides
LADIES IN NUDE
Russian Brides
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