Chapter Two: The Warrior

Tranith Argan: Book 2

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Felanar has been captured by the saarks, and is prisoner on their ship. Kara with her family and Bren on their fishing boat had used her elven horn for the first time in her life.

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Felanar was more aware of his surroundings now. The sun was sinking and the western sky was alive with color. The ship continued its furious pace northward as the drum beat unceasingly. Felanar stared at the drummer. It was the same man he had seen earlier in the day, but looking more haggard than before. Their eyes met for a moment and in that brief instant Felanar had a window into the soul of a man bereft of hope. There was such sadness and resignation in those eyes that Felanar shuddered, little thinking of his own desperate state.

Still lying bound on the deck, he looked around. He craned his neck to the side and looked for the three saark guards but they were not to be seen. He then heard a commotion on the port side and turned his head back to see the cause. The drums continued to beat, the slaves continued to row, but the saarks paid no heed to this. Dozens of them lined the port side, pointing wildly and cursing in their tongue. They had seen something that had upset them greatly. One of them went running over to the drummer and told him to quicken the pace. As the drummer did so, the oarsmen matched the tempo.

They are trying to outrun a ship, Felanar thought. Who might it be? His mind went to Kara and for an instant thought she was coming to rescue him. But he quickly realized the futility of this idea. How could she and the others overcome the speed of this ship? Besides, why would the saarks now be afraid of the small fishing boat when earlier they had overrun it with such ease?

Still, Felanar thought, something has them scared. Saarks were now running this way and that, gathering up weapons and equipment. They’re gaining on us, he thought excitedly! The saarks are preparing for battle. That thought then worried him, for would they kill him now that they were under attack? He tried again to loosen the rope that bound him but it was as useless as before. Whatever was to occur now, he was completely at their mercy.

The yells of the saarks grew more intense and then they all ran away from the port side at the same time. Felanar craned his neck some more and he realized that arrows were flying over the side. Elven arrows, he thought! The elves have come! That happy thought was cut short as an arrow thudded into the deck just feet from his body. Felanar tried to slither along the deck to get under some overhang for protection. Meanwhile the oarsmen had stopped rowing and were trying to shield themselves from the rain of arrows with their chained arms, some unsuccessfully.

The saarks, in a frenzy now, yelled out battle cries. Evidently the elven ship was close to the saark ship for the saarks now threw over their loops of rope as they had done with the fishing boat. The saarks poured over the side and down the ropes to the unseen ship below. One of them, however, came running over to Felanar, who had wedged himself behind a barrel for protection. The saark, one of the three guards from before, bent over Felanar and began to fumble with the ropes that bound him.

“Tell those filthy elves that I aided you” was all he said between puffs of heavy breathing, and then fell over dead, an arrow in the middle of his back.

• • •

The ship of the Llaráin Erenár maneuvered next to the fishing boat and one of the elves called out toward Kara in a loud, but controlled, voice.

“I know thee not and yet I perceive thou art a friend of the Llaráin. How come thee to have a horn of my people?”

“It was given to me by Alessa, daughter of Llarand, lord of the Findára. I was told that if ever I blew the horn I would receive aid from the elves, and I bless the day she gave us this gift.” In saying this, Kara looked up at the Erenár who were now lining the side of their ship.

It was a sleek ship with tall, narrow sails. On the main sail was an elven inscription that Kara could not make out, and a design of water flowing in a circle. Neither Kara nor Bren were used to dealing with the Erenár. Other than being ferried across the channel to Elaria, neither of them had ever seen one of their ships before. It was clear that the leader of this band was not used to dealing with men, and seemed little inclined to begin now.

“We recognize the authority of Llarand, though we would that he kept his daughter in check. Careless is she in her gifts if the daughters of men receiveth them.”  He looked coldly at Kara and the others in the fishing boat. His light blond hair blew in the breeze, as did his pale blue cloak. The other elves standing to the side also looked down with indifference.

This was too much for Bren who now stepped forward and cried angrily, “Elves of the sea, perhaps you would be more inclined to look favorably upon this gift if you knew that the lady who bears it is a queen among men.”

The elf looked from Bren back to Kara with a flicker of interest and then turned cold again.

“High born thou art?” he said to Kara. “High born thou may be – to men. Thy age is tender and thy wisdom is sparse. High born to men may not be high born to Llaráin.”

“Stop!” cried Kara with a commanding voice, holding up her right hand. “I do not wish to argue the merits of men versus elves. We are in great need and ask your assistance. Shall we have it, or shall I report to Llarand that the Llaráin do not keep their word? For I have a mission to accomplish and I mean to carry it out, with your help or not. Please, will you aid us?”

The Erenár captain looked at Kara with amusement. “Thy speech is as a queen among men, full of importance. Stay, taketh not offense, for what I perceive and how I act may be different. I know not thy claims nor thy heritage. Still let it not be said the Llaráin keepeth not their word, even if that word be hastily given. Come, tell us thy plight.”

Kara’s anger burned at his insulting words, yet she kept her feelings in check and responded calmly and clearly.

“My brother has been kidnapped by saarks and we chase them. Our boat is not swift enough to overtake theirs and even if we did, we have not men enough to overwhelm them. Please, let us board your ship and you can overtake them.”

The Erenár briefly spoke quietly among themselves and then their captain called down to Kara, “It is not our way to allow strangers on our ships. Even if we did, I think thou wouldst find it for naught. We know this saark ship and it is why we are in these waters. Hours ago we heard of it and set chase. We were closing in when we heard thy horn. Our ship was sent to seek the source of the call whilst the other ship went to destroy the saarks. Cursed creatures! Klaubyn! To think they would dare foul our waters with their stench!”

“What! You mean your other ship is on its way to the saarks already?”  Kara cried out in gladness.

“Nay, lady, by now the saarks must already be destroyed, for we were almost upon them when we turned course to meet thee.”

“Then Felanar is rescued! Oh, we must find him! Please, take me to wherever your people would have taken him.”  Kara’s joy was great and Chafrar and Sera embraced tightly at the news.

“Didst thou not hear my words?” asked the Erenár captain. “It is not the way of my people to have strangers on their ships. Go, find him safely at Elaria, for surely that is where our brothers would have taken him.”

Bren and Kara thanked the Erenár for the news and were about to set sail for Elaria when the Erenár began to act strangely. All of them cocked their ears to the north and concentrated. Kara, seeing this, strained to hear something over the splashing of the water, but could not. Suddenly the Erenár rushed about their ship and started to hoist their sails again.

“What is wrong?” asked Kara. “What have you heard?”

The captain responded, “The call of my brothers. Didst thou not hear the sound of the horn?”

Kara tensed at this turn of events. If the other Erenár ship was calling for aid, then Felanar may not yet be safe. She felt her panic returning

“Please, I must join you!” she yelled out.

“Nay, lady, for thou art a stranger to us!”  The captain seemed irritated now and was busy giving orders to his crew.

Not waiting to continue this argument, Kara leaped overboard and swiftly swam over to the Erenár ship and began climbing up the anchor rope to the deck. Two elven sailors assisted her aboard as the captain angrily strode over.

“Shall I throw thee overboard to make my point, lady?”  Up close, the elf had the same inner light of the Findára in his eyes. Those eyes shone brightly with anger.

Dripping wet, Kara looked up with anger of her own as she held forward the elf horn. She gripped it tightly and stared hard at the captain. Her words came out through clenched jaws.

“This means I am an elf friend, though you seem no friend to me. I care not what your rules and customs say. My brother’s life is in danger and I must try to save him. Do not hinder me.”  In saying this, she put her right hand on the hilt of her sword. Swiftly, several Erenár reached for their bows. The captain held up his hand.

“Stay! We will not shed blood on this vessel.”  He looked in Kara’s eyes for a moment. The two stared darkly at each other.

“Yea, I see thou hast the inward fire of a friend of the Llaráin. It is not our way, but I allow thee to stay on board. Nevertheless, thy friends may not board. I perceive not any horns of my people among them, and they hath not thy fire. This is final.”

Kara stared hard at the captain for another moment and then broke away. Leaning over the side she called out to the fishing boat, “Sail on to Elaria and meet Ravesfel. I will accompany the elves to make sure Felanar is safe. If you hear word of trouble, follow Ravesfel’s instructions. Do not worry, I will soon join you.”

Bren objected to letting Kara out of his sight, but Kara insisted, ultimately ordering him to protect her parents and see them to safety.

“I will be perfectly safe with the Llaráin, Bren. Mother, father, go with Bren and I’ll join you soon.”

Reluctantly Chafrar and Sera agreed, and they sailed off to the west as the Erenár sailed north. For all her brave words, Kara also knew that the other Erenár ship had run into difficulty. Trouble was not over yet.

• • •

The saark ship was in chaos. Many of the oarsmen had been killed where they were chained, and arrows littered the deck. The drummer still lived, cowering behind the drums. Scattered around the ship lay dead saarks, including the one who had started to loosen Felanar’s bonds moments before he was struck down.

Felanar huddled behind a barrel and continued to loosen the rope binding his hands. No one paid any attention to him. The saarks had descended to the elf ship and could not be seen by Felanar, though he heard the sounds of their fighting. His wrists were rubbed raw from the rope, but finally he was free. He quickly undid the ropes around his ankles and then crouched behind the barrel.

The rain of arrows had stopped and evidently all the fighting was now confined to the elf ship. Seeing no saarks, Felanar crawled over to the port side and peered over. He saw an Erenár ship lashed to the saark ship. It was not as tall as the saark’s, though every bit as long, and much sleeker. It had many white sails and flags fluttering in the breeze. Below, on the deck, a savage fight was in progress. Felanar had never witnessed elves fighting before. He had seen the knights of the Findára practice their swordplay and their archery, but this was the first elf battle he had witnessed.

Felanar watched in fascination as he realized that these tall, thin elves were every bit as strong as those brutish saarks. In personal combat, they attacked the saarks with ferocity that startled him. It was no wonder the saarks reacted as they did at the sight of their ship. The saarks wanted no part in a fight they could not win. Saark bodies littered the deck as one by one they were brought down by the elven swords and arrows. Finally there were just two saarks left and they were quickly surrounded. Falling to their knees they began to beg for their lives. It was to no avail as two elves stepped forward and swiftly thrust swords into the saarks who then fell over dead. The battle had been quick, brutal and one-sided. Felanar had a renewed respect for the elves after this sight.

Realizing again that he was now free, Felanar crawled over to the drummer and tried to loosen his chains. He struggled with the lock as the drummer looked at Felanar with empty eyes. The man appeared to be in middle age, but he was so broken that he might well have been a young man, for all Felanar could tell. Their eyes met again and Felanar said to him, “I need a key. Did the guards carry the key?”

The man looked back with his empty eyes and said nothing but slowly nodded his head. Felanar looked around and saw one of the saark guards lying on the deck and stumbled over to him. His strength was beginning to come back but he was still unsteady on his feet. He had been bound for a long time and his muscles ached.

He grabbed the side of the saark guard and, with great effort, lifted him up and over to his front. The red-rimmed eyes were closed but it was clear that this was Tral. I wonder if he would like some grank now, thought Felanar angrily. He grabbed a set of keys attached to Tral’s belt and stumbled over to the drummer. He found the right key and opened the chains. The drummer’s arms and legs were red and raw where the chains had rubbed against them. He looked up at Felanar, blinking and looking confused.

“You are free,” said Felanar. “The saarks are all dead and you are free. Take this ship and sail home.”  As he said this, the man’s eyes lowered and Felanar wondered how long he had been away from home and whether there was any home or family to go back to. “Or sail wherever you will. You are a free man now.”

Felanar looked over to the oarsmen and saw that perhaps half still lived. Most were staring at Felanar with interest. Felanar turned to the drummer and continued, “Here, take these keys and free them all. Then take this ship and sail to Elaria if you have no other place to go. Just sail to the west until you come to the green land. They will aid you and give you strength.”

Still looking at Felanar blankly, the drummer tried to stand but fell down again. Then trying once more, he slowly walked over to his fellow slaves.

Felanar went over to the port side again and saw that the elves were dumping the bodies of the saarks overboard and cleaning up the blood from the decks. He also saw that two of their number had been killed in the fight. A group of elves knelt around the dead bodies, hanging their heads in sorrow over their fallen comrades.

Climbing over the side, Felanar hung onto one of the saark ropes and lowered himself onto the Llaráin vessel. Reaching the deck with a thud, he found himself suddenly surrounded by elves with outstretched swords. Felanar raised his arms in surrender and cried out, “Stay! I am Felanar, heir of the throne of Argan, friend of Llarand and Heléste. I was a prisoner of the saarks and you have saved me from death.”

Breathing hard from the exertion of climbing down the rope, he also had in mind the picture of the two pleading saarks. He looked warily at these Llaráin.

At a signal, they all lowered their swords. One elf stepped forward and addressed Felanar with kindness, if not warmth.

“Thy life is spared, for our quarrel is not with thee. I have heard of thee, Felanar, from my brothers, the Findára. I know thee to be a friend of the Llaráin, and I will suffer thee to be onboard our vessel, though it is not the way of my people. I am Narón, and you are aboard my ship, the Faris.”

“I thank you, Narón, both for saving my life and for your hospitality in my time of need.”  Felanar breathed a sigh of relief.

“For now, Felanar,” said Narón as he glanced upward, “wait here ere we see if any klaubyn remain alive.”

Felanar followed Narón’s eyes and said, “If you mean saarks, I saw none left. There are slaves onboard still and I told them to sail to freedom.”

Narón looked at Felanar with wonder. “It has not been said among my people that men act with kindness. Cruelty and brutality have been thy ways, and giving up slaves has not been thy custom.”

“I am no saark!” said Felanar. “These men have been treated cruelly and I would grant them whatever happiness in life they may yet find.”

“I perceive thy kingship to be a wise one, Felanar. The ways of kindness compliment the ways of strength. Thou art destined to be a popular king.”

“Thank you, Narón, but I’ll not be a king at all if I don’t get to Elaria safely. Will you take me there? I lost my family when I was captured, but I’m sure they would make for Elaria, for that was our destination.”

Narón nodded his head in agreement, and gave commands for the saark ropes to be severed and to get underway. Looking up, Felanar caught a glimpse of the former slaves helping undo the ropes. Several of them waved at Felanar and the elves. As he kept looking, he saw several of them peer skyward and shade their eyes. Just then some of the Erenár cried out, “Draigú!”  Felanar wheeled around and saw, far off, a sight that gave him chills.

A dragon approached.