Chapter Nine: The Education of Alessa

Tranith Argan: Book 4

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Freed by the elves, the travelers found themselves outside of the village.

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In the confusion of the moment, the only thing Felanar noticed was a flurry of activity all around him. There were yells of anger and panic from inside the village, now a hundred feet behind him, and there were calls of action from the elves that surrounded the group.

A dozen elves served as a shield to the former prisoners as they stood between them and the village. The other six elves had taken up flanking positions to their right and left and were prepared with their bows to rain down arrows on any villager who chased after them. It had been a swift, well-executed, precise rescue that left nothing to chance. Felanar felt, once again, the security he had always known from being in the presence of the elves. The surprise of the rescue, and his annoyance that Alessa had planned it without conferring with him, faded into the exhilaration of feeling he was almost home. He was safe at last.

Pross and Jela, in contrast, felt very afraid of what had just happened. Not only were they still reeling from the sudden rescue, they were also surrounded by elves and that made them feel very uncomfortable. Pross kept close to Kara, and Jela to Felanar, as if shrinking away from this band of elves could make them safer.

Jela kept looking up at Felanar to see if he was worried, and when she saw that he looked confident, she grew in confidence herself. She trusted his opinion above all. She also noticed Kara seemed relieved, and that doubled her feeling of safety. Nevertheless, she avoided eye contact with any of these strange elves with their fierce appearance and bold actions. She did not want to be noticed by any of them if she could help it. She mostly kept her face to the ground and hoped for the best as this sudden activity swept her along.

Alessa was too busy viewing the details of the rescue to notice her emotions. She thought she recognized one or maybe two of these knights from times when they had met with her brother Dalonír in Elaria. She noted with pride how they moved in unison with very few orders being given by their captain. Her people knew what to do and when to do it and needed little direction in order to achieve the most efficient results.

Noise behind them caught her attention. After the initial confusion the guards from the village had regrouped and were advancing. Alessa wished they wouldn't. For as much antipathy as she felt for these villagers who had so insulted her people, she had no wish to see them killed now that they were safely out of captivity. Yet onward they pressed, seeming to be oblivious to the danger they were facing. Could they not see the archers on the flanks? Did they not realize how futile it was to fight Findáran troops?

Arrows and spears now flew from the guards toward the main group of elves and former prisoners. As the elves guarding them swiftly moved into position with their shields to block the incoming arrows, the archers on the flanks let fly with an answering volley. The guards stumbled backward against this counterattack and successfully blocked only half the arrows. Three guards fell dead. Behind them came more guards and even some ordinary villagers carrying whatever ragtag weaponry they could lay their hands on. Alessa felt sorry for them. This began to look like a last stand for the village, and it was so unnecessary. Did they not realize that if they just backed off they would be safe?

In the distance, deep within the village, Alessa saw that hateful Rutond directing more villagers toward the fight. She scorned him in that moment for being willing to talk about action and then forcing others to actually take the action instead. Then something caught her eye that made her heart sink in fear. Lemual came out of a hut running toward the front. He was yelling something that she could not yet make out over the din of the chaotic battlefield, but he seemed intent on reaching them as fast as his legs could carry him.

At that moment for Alessa, time fractured, each moment crystallizing into sharp, terrible clarity. She later endlessly replayed those fragments searching for the instant when tragedy became inevitable. It was a series of slow-motion events leading from strife to madness to despair.

The arrows had briefly ceased flying from the village guards, and even the villagers carrying makeshift weapons paused in their run. Lemual was yelling for them to stop fighting, Alessa could clearly hear now. As the villagers stopped, the elves paused. Alessa's senses heightened at this moment and took in everything at once.

The only movement now, other than Rutond getting red in the face from his continuing exhortation to advance, was Lemual who had never broken stride from the moment he left the hut, not even when he was told by the guards to stand down. He ran past them and into the open field between the two groups of combatants. When he was halfway across, about fifty feet away, he stopped and began to pant loudly. At his age, this was probably the most running he had done in quite a while. He held his hands in the air to indicate that he was unarmed and he kept breathing heavily.

Alessa took in the whole field of action with her peripheral vision. Her focus remained on Lemual and she felt an urge to run toward him to tell him to go back. He was in danger! Then Lemual moved. His right hand lowered itself toward the breast of his tunic while his left hand remained suspended as before. Alessa's emotions jumped at this action, and out of the corner of her eye she saw motion from the flanked elves.

Before she could articulate what she saw coming, her body flew into action. Breaking free from the group she began racing toward Lemual. The elves and Felanar yelled but she paid no heed. From her left she perceived one of the elves breaking formation and pulling back his bow. “Noooooo!” she yelled as she ran, and thinking long afterward how her voice broke what seemed to be an utter silence. The only thing in her world that she saw now was Lemual about twenty feet in front of her pulling out from his tunic a scroll and looking at her approaching with a face that indicated more surprise than fear. Alessa also saw the movement of the arrow arcing through the air toward the helpless elder who did not see it coming. “Fall back!” she yelled toward Lemual, but this made no sense to him for he saw nothing of the flanks but kept his eye on this elven woman racing toward him.

As he again began to raise his right arm, this time with the scroll in his grip, the arrow first neatly sliced the scroll in half. Then much to Lemual's surprise and Alessa's horror, the arrow continued into his chest. As Alessa reached the elder he looked down in surprise at the arrow sticking out from his body, and then he looked up at Alessa and cocked his head curiously. He even seemed to smile as Alessa held him in her arms, and a line of blood spilled from his mouth, and then he slurred one word, “Peace,” and died in her arms.

Alessa let out a wail of anguish. Tears streamed down her face. She heard nothing of the commotion behind her, or saw any actions in front of her. As she shuddered in grief, she suddenly felt herself being yanked backward and flung to the ground by an elf knight. As she fell backward she saw that knight's body riddled with arrows from the guards in front of her. They had been aiming at her from the moment they realized Lemual was dead and this elf knight had given his life to spare Alessa. In shock she saw arrows being returned and the guards falling over dead. More arrows followed and the first wave of villagers fell down either dead or wounded.

“Stop!” yelled Alessa to the elves. She had regained her voice. “Stop! Halt your attack! I command you!” She stood up in safety for no villager now advanced, but they were all fleeing back into the center of the village. “Stop!” repeated Alessa, and then the elves stopped for their captain repeated the command.

Alessa stumbled forward onto Lemual's body and looked down into his still open eyes that were now void of life. Tears welled up again as she began to wail over his loss. Her body shook with despair even after Felanar approached and put his arm around her shoulders. “He wanted peace and we killed him for no reason,” she sobbed to Felanar. “No reason!”

“I know,” Felanar said soothingly as Alessa buried her face in his chest and continued sobbing.

The captain of the elves stepped forward and looked down at the dead knight. He knelt in front of the knight's face, paused to take in the eyes now empty of light, and respectfully closed the eyelids and removed his helmet. The captain stood up and turned toward Alessa.

“My lady,” he said stiffly, “I have followed your orders, though it is out of respect for your father and brother. Can you explain this command? Why should we not defend ourselves against this unprovoked attack?”

“Unprovoked?!” cried Alessa, tears still falling from her eyes. “What did Lemual do to provoke this attack?”

“Who is Lemual?” asked the captain coldly. He was tall and muscular with eyes that, though elven, seemed to Felanar to be unfriendly. His eyes seemed narrower than other elves and his manner more brusque, especially dealing with someone such as Alessa.

“Here!” yelled Alessa pointing at the dead body. “This is Lemual! Or at least it was him before your knight killed him without any provocation.”

“He was reaching for something, and given the events we just witnessed it was reasonable to assume he was reaching for a weapon. Your safety is paramount to us and we had to protect you before he could cause harm.”

“You could protect me against him even if he pulled out a weapon,” Alessa charged. Her tears had stopped while her anger arose. “They were shooting arrows at us before and your knights deflected them with their shields without trouble. They could have done so again!”

“But you had broken free, lady, and were no longer under their protection.”

“I broke free when I saw the archer beginning to act, so it had nothing to do with my movements. Do not put the blame for this on me!”

“My lady has been through a terrible experience. I understand your emotional outburst.”

“You killed an unarmed man! That is the cause of my 'outburst,' not because I am a lady, and not because of what I have experienced. We have all experienced far worse than this over the past few weeks. How dare you suggest that I cannot take such experiences without resorting to emotion!”

The captain bowed and said nothing, but his lip curled slightly — not quite a sneer, but carrying centuries of ingrained superiority. Every line of his posture said what his silence wouldn’t: he viewed her objections as childish sentiment. As he walked away Alessa called out again.

“He wanted peace, nothing more. That was the final word he said to me, just 'peace.'”

She looked down at the dead Lemual and saw again the scroll that had been bisected. She knelt down and gingerly took the scraps of paper from his dead hands, unrolled them and read their contents solemnly. When she was done, and a new tear had fallen from her eyes, she looked at Felanar and said, “It is a peace treaty.”

“Between whom?” asked Felanar.

“Between the villagers and my people,” Alessa responded sadly. “It is dated many seasons ago and it called for a cease of mutual hostilities. It was signed by a knight and by Lemual. Not Rutond, not the other elder, just Lemual. He thought it might bring peace between our people and that is why he came running to stop the fighting. He wanted us to be at peace!”

The elves once again formed a shield between Alessa and the village. The flanking archers had come in at the order to cease fire and were awaiting further commands. The captain stared at the village looking for any threats. They all saw the villagers hiding behind huts and stalls in the far part of the village, too afraid to approach this band of elves. There was no further threat.

“Let us finish the job, captain,” said one of the archers. “Let us be rid of this intruding village once and for all.”

The captain glanced at Alessa and then said, “No, we will leave them.”

“Captain, this will be an ongoing problem if we leave them as they are. They are angry and scared, but once we leave they will just be angry. The next patrol to pass this way will come under attack.”

“There is nothing I can do,” sighed the captain.

“What are you saying?” asked Alessa of the archer. “Are you suggesting you go in and kill the rest of the villagers?”

“It is the only way to eliminate the threat, lady,” said the archer.

“By killing innocent men, women, and children?” asked Alessa accusingly.

The archer looked uncomfortably at his captain and then said, “They are not innocent, lady. Our people have come under attack time and again.”

“In response to attacks by you!” cried Alessa.

“We only attack when attacked,” said the captain.

“That is what the villagers say about themselves,” countered Alessa. “Can you not see the cycle you have found yourselves trapped in?”

“We can end this cycle right now,” said the archer to the captain.

“Enough,” said the captain. “We have people to escort. Now is not the time for military operations. We are in a defensive position. The village can wait.”

“Wait for what?” asked Alessa.

“For what must be done,” said the captain stiffly.

“I will speak to my father about this,” said Alessa.

“He will appreciate that we saved his daughter,” said the captain as he used hand signals to order his men forward, marching north away from the village.

“Maybe so,” said Alessa, “but he will not like to hear about how life is treated on the frontier. This is not elf-like behavior.”

The captain did not respond but his facial expressions clearly showed his distaste for what Alessa had said.