Chapter One

Chapter One

Desmir idly wondered how his father might react if he just stabbed his knife into the table, groaned with sheer boredom and dropped his head down into the bowl of soup before him. He could fathom a fairly likely guess. The Elf Lord might pause in talking to stare at him for a moment before gently reprimanding him and sending him to go wash up. That would be it. No question, no inquiry as to why he had suddenly abandoned every lesson of manners ever taught him and plunged himself on a downwards collision with his supper. Desmir’s head sank lower, vastly tempted to test his assumption. Instead his forehead settled in his palm, fingers splayed over his cheek and around one eye. Slouched forewords, a hand holding the butter knife he aimed a droopy eyed glare at his eldest brother Elborn. How can he make all this talk about councils and papers seem so engaging? Eneldreth he’s been going on about his for one hour, twenty-three minutes and forty-five seconds. I’m going to die! Ah…now it’s been one hour twenty-three minutes and fifty-seconds. I’m going insane.

“…I did finally manage to make contact with the neighboring kingdom. It seems they have been having some conflict in their ranks for a few months. They don’t require aid in the terms of military support but did request…”

Desmir’s head sank lower as his elbow slipped along the smoothly polished tabletop. The rich cloth of his sleeve didn’t provide much purchase.

“…That a small convoy be sent to work out negations. I went through the available councilors who have enough skill in taking on such a task. I cannot go as the things here have me weighted down. Obviously you cannot go Father. The city needs you. So I thought that, since this is a small mission, we might send Furendir. My youngest brother could use the experience.”

“I agree with you son,” replied the tall, crowned elf lord at the table’s head. He sat hands folded and chin on them back straight in the chair. “However I do not wish to send your brother alone. As a prince he requires more than the usual guards.”

“Why of course. It’s his first real mission and he may need some backup.” Elborn made a motion with one hand. “I thought we might send the fifth platoon. They have enough experience on their hands to easily keep things under control if the meetings get messy.”

“You don’t expect them to do you?”

Desmir lifted his half shut eyelids just long enough to glance at his mother who leaned on the back of his father’s chair her fair face creased with a gentle frown of worry over the prospect of her youngest child departing on a mission.

Elborn was quick to reassure his mother. “No, no, this should be a simple thing with no complications.”

“The fifth platoon I deem to be a good choice. Have you notified them yet of this new assignment?”

“No Father, I have not even told Furendir yet and since he’s late for supper yet again, he knows nothing of it.” A smirk curled Elborn’s lips. “I suspect he’s asleep on some tome in the library like last time.”

Lord Pharom rubbed one of his wife’s hands that rested on his shoulder. “Desmir,” he turned to face the middle son. “Would you mind fetching…are you alright?”

“Ugh?” Desmir exclaimed as he blinked.

Elborn sighed shaking his head with a smile. “Have I bored you yet again brother?”

“You’ve been talking about this for one hour, thirty-one minutes and fifteen seconds,” Desmir stated flatly.

“Oh my, you counted?” Lady Cellica laughed.

“He beat his earlier record of one hour, fifteen minutes and ten seconds.” Desmir veered his eyes to look at his mother as he answered her.

Lord Pharom chuckled. “Go on, get out of here and fetch your brother. I release you from this untidy torture,” he joked.

“Thank you!” Desmir leapt from his seat so fast that he sent the chair tumbling to the floor. Not hesitating or sparing it a glance he vaulted like a stag over the toppled furniture and ran from the room, long silver cream hair flying out behind him.

Elborn watched him go before turning back to his parents. “Maybe we should send Desmir along with the fifth platoon and Furendir,” he commented lifting his goblet and taking a sip.

Lord Pharom tilted his head. “It would do him good. He’s been cooped up here too long. He thinks I don’t notice but I’ve seen how restless he’s become. This city held him when he was a boy but cannot confine the young warrior he’s becoming.”

“I worry for him,” Lady Cellica sighed. “I don’t want him to become injured.”

Elborn looked up at his mother. “I believe he can take care of himself. Desmir is a faster thinker and better strategist then we give him credit for.”

“And how would you know that?” asked Cellica.

“I don’t. It’s my expectations of him,” Elborn tipped back the goblet finishing the wine as he listened to the final echoes of his retreating brothers, boot heels on the marble floored halls.

The same echoes Elborn could no longer pick up even with his sensitive Elven ears bounced all around Desmir as he ran pushing himself to a greater speed before bracing his legs and skidding across the floor arms out flung for balance. For a half minute of bliss, he flashed along at top speed devouring the thrill of sliding as if he were on ice. Then he slowed and the feeling of freedom faded, so he repeated the process even though he knew it was very childish for a male his age. He would be mortified if anyone ever found out. All too soon the double doors of the library loomed up before him and he came to a boot heel shrieking halt as he leaned back. Pushing the slightly ajar door open he stepped in quickly assaulted by the musty scent of too much dust and old parchment. Combing the shelves he called out in a low voice.

“Furendir, where are you?”

Reaching a secluded back corner he spotted the youngest of the three princes. Furendir sat, knees to his chest holding a book on them. His head had sunk onto the old pages and rested there, a few strands of silver hair flouting up every time he breathed out. Desmir dropped to one knee beside him and shook his shoulder.

“Wake up brother. You’re late for supper again and Father wants you.”

Furendir stirred, head coming up slowly, the grey eyes disoriented. “What? Who?”

“It’s me,” Desmir replied.

“Oh, Desmir,” Furendir stretched his arms with a yawn. “What were you saying?”

“Father wants you.”

“Alright I’m coming,” Furendir closed the book and tucked it onto a shelf. Rising he stretched again before following his brother. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“The usual, Elborn’s prattling about delegations and the history of all three elven raises Melains, Lunorens, Aqualgus and Eneldreth knows what else while father and mother listen,” Desmir shrugged.

“While you fall asleep in your dinner. What was Elborn’s time?” Furendir asked.

“How do you know I count?” asked Desmir surprised.

“I picked it up last time. Your lips were moving,” Furendir answered.

Desmir blinked. “You pick up on details that’s for sure.”

Furendir pushed the dining room door open. “I suppose one can say that.”

Entering, they were waved to their seats by their father. Taking his place Furendir looked expectantly at Elborn. Desmir just let his head sink onto his crossed arms and got comfortable hoping Elborn didn’t try to break his new record. Once was enough for a single evening.

“I hear there is some kind of mission being planned?” Furendir asked to open the discussion.

“Yes, it’s to the neighboring kingdom of Esen and…” Elborn eagerly launched into his prepared speech as Furendir listened, attention fully engaged.

Desmir sighed and started counting under his breath again until his mother suddenly nudged him just as he reached a minute and thirty-three seconds. “What?” he lifted his head enough to see her standing by his chair.

“You may want to listen,” she whispered. “This time it concerns you, Son.”

Desmir grumbled but graced his family with the gift of raising his head fully and supporting his chin with one hand.

“..A few days. I’m judging it to be a simple mission. So there is not much to worry about. The fifth platoon under Desmir’s command will be escorting you so-”

“What?” Desmir yelped in excitement springing from his chair so it crashed to the floor again. Suddenly he was all ears, soaking in every word that was being said around him like a parched sponge.

Lord Pharom chuckled. “You’ll be leading the guards.”

“When did you decide this?” Adrenaline was already coursing through him.

“While you were fetching your brother. Sit down again, Elborn needs to brief you on the mission.” Pharom made a calming gesture.

Desmir righted his chair and sank into it, whole body tensed like a coiled spring. His eyes were riveted on his eldest brother.

Elborn laughed. “The mission is simple enough. Tomorrow you and the escort will leave the city and follow the main roads to the human kingdom. There Furendir is to take charge and aid them in the negotiations that need to take place. Once that has been accomplished you are all to return here. The allowed time is one week. If you require additional time then send a messenger. If you don’t we’ll have to assume that you all ran into trouble and come after you.”

Desmir’s brain was whirling. Instantly he shifted over from exasperated prince to the lessons he’d learned at the barracks about leadership and command. “Are there any dangers that might cause a problem on the roads?”

“Not that we know of. The route will be mapped out along the safest paths and recorded in an assignment letter so you know just what the orders are and can then reaffirm them when needed.”

“What about supplies?”

“The guards will have enough for a weeklong trip, more than enough to get to the kingdom, re-stock there and travel back in style.”

“Right,” Desmir agreed. “Can I tell my men?”

Lord Pharom made a slowing gesture with his palms. “Calm down young one. They will be notified of the mission through the usual means and be assembled to switch under your command tomorrow morning. You need to rest this night. It’s your first assignment after all.”

Desmir’s face showed momentary disappointment. Then his expression cleared again. “Very well Father. May I be granted permission to leave for my chambers and prepare?”

“You may Son,” Pharom nodded. “Elborn, you and Furendir had best head along as well. It’s getting late and you both need your rest despite the argument that you’re adults now. Only one of you is twenty and five after all.”

Elborn smiled.

“We’re close,” chorused Desmir and Furendir indigently.

“There you go, acting like children again. Go on,” Pharom waved his hand in dismissal.

The three obeyed, inclining their heads to their parents and hurried off. At the door Elborn paused in his task of shepherding out his siblings. “Father? May I speak to you for a moment please?”

Lord Pharom looked up hearing the change in the Crown Prince’s tone. “What is it young one?”

Elborn let the heavy door slide shut and turned back around. “I have found myself greatly attracted to Andula lately. What are your thoughts on this?”

“Sit down Elborn,” Pharom replied.

Silently the eldest complied.

“Why this question?” asked the Elf Lord.

“She has caught my eye,” Elborn stated bluntly, though his tone remained relaxed. He had no worries when bringing this subject up to his father.

“Why would that be?” Pharom leaned back.

“She’s hardworking, always giving, she’s kind and knows her own mind. I admire her abilities,” Elborn responded thoughtfully. “I’ve known her all my life. We played as children.”

“As I well recall. It is good of you to note her personality and talents instead of her looks. Had you done so I would have had to ask you to distance yourself from her. Looks are not the base you want in this sort of attraction,” Pharom cautioned.

Elborn nodded. “As I have been taught.”

“Good,” Pharom laced his fingers together. “So long as it does not affect your duties, this attraction is perfectly natural. You’ve reached an age where your mind and emotions will begin to consider a woman. So long as you control this drive, nothing shall occur to shame her or you. Remember Elborn, happiness lies in hard work and perfection. To gain a perfect love, one has to perfect himself and his actions. By this I mean you must have a strong enough control over yourself that you can pull away at any moment no matter how emotionally attached you may get. If you love her, then you’ll be willing to leave her if it is for the best. I will address her father on this matter and ask for his thoughts. If he allows it, you may speak to Andula about the possibility or courting her for a time.”

Elborn nodded. “Thank you father, I appreciate being able to speak on this with you.”

“Of course Elborn, now go prepare for the councils tomorrow. If you have any further concerns speak to me of it.”

“Yes father,” Elborn inclined his head and exited the room. In the hall he spotted Desmir standing near, waiting.

“Desmir you know not to eavesdrop,” Elborn crossed his arms.

“My apologies brother. I wanted to wait for you and could not help hearing a few words,” he smiled. “So the fair Andula has an admirer?”

Elborn waved a hand. “She’s gentle and dependable. There is nothing wrong with this.”

Desmir fell in step with his brother. “I agree. Though I would advise caution.”

“Caution must be used in all things,” Elborn replied. “Especially this. When considering marriage one cannot take it slowly enough.”

“As mother always said,” Desmir replied.

“Well it works does it not? Our parents are quite happily married are they not?” Elborn lightly shoved the other.

Desmir put his shoulder down and pushed back. “Indeed, with one chatterbox, a handsome warrior and a scholar as the result!”

“I am not a chatterbox and you are not a handsome warrior!” Elborn joked.

“Indeed, I’ve had my own admirers.”

“I’m sure you have, but you have no interest in a relationship. You only learn of weapons and in the field survival traits,” Elborn noted looking over his sibling. Desmir was just as tall as he with thick creamy silver hair that reached the bottom of his shoulder blades. The intelligent eyes were a soft black and the face angular and fair with tanned skin. His shoulders were broad and his body showed the signs of active training in weapons. Dressed in a light grey tunic and black pants with heeled boots he did make an impressive sight. A belt circled his waist and a small band of silver was in his hair marking him as the second prince.

Desmir shrugged. “It is what interests me. The woods are my companions and my family. I need no other.”

Elborn paused. “What of Furendir and I? Are we not your family?”

“Of course you are Elborn, no matter how many hours and minutes you talk or how often you bore me,” Desmir grinned.

“Ungrateful brother, had I not taken an interest in politics and kingship then you would have to have taken the throne. As the eldest I can chose my fate but you cannot,” Elborn jabbed.

Desmir frowned. “I don’t like that law. One would think that if the eldest can choose his fate so can the others instead of the unwilling second eldest being forced onto the throne should the Crown Prince decide to leave the seat of power.”

“It’s a way to ensure a ruler in the ancient bloodlines has the throne.”

“Well I don’t like it.”

“Then you make a document over throwing the rule and present it to father.”

“I think I will, if you ever try to give me the thron,” Desmir laughed.

“You won’t get past trying to write the heading on such a document.”

“Oh and you can?”

“Easily so.” Elborn slapped his brother’s shoulder as the other scowled. “You walked into that one brother.”

“I dare say I did. I’ll have to plan our verbal sparring in advance,” Desmir stopped outside his chamber and leaned an arm on the wall.

Elborn moved so he could see the other’s face. “You’re worried about this assignment.”

“I am not.”

“You are. Don’t be concerned, you’ll be fine. This will be a small quiet mission.”

“Knowing my luck I’ll die from council procedures on the first day,” Desmir jested.

Elborn shook his head though he was smiling. “What are we to do with you?”

“Turn me loose in the woods with a horse for a week. I’ll be happy then,” Desmir answered a light dancing in his eyes like dappled sun rays through tree crowns.

“You really do love the forest don’t you?” Elborn asked softly.

“I feel safe there among the trees. Here everything is cold stone. I often feel caged in. But in the woods everything is warm and alive,” Desmir explained his eyes taking on a far off look. Lips curled at the corners into a gentle smile. “You can touch a tree or sit among the ferns and spot hundreds of smaller lives all about you. Each unconcerned about the preceding of us. They only worry about their food, homes and families. In a way we are alike. Both elves and ants have similar concerns.”

Elborn slapped the other’s arm. “Perhaps you’d like me better if I were an ant. How I feel about the marble walls of this castle is how you feel about the woods. I know this place. I understand the ways of a ruler. In the woods everything is games and guess work. You can die falling from a tree just as easily as being mauled by a boar.”

“Here you can fall down the stairs and break your neck.”

“Unlikely.”

“Not really, with these long trailing robes. I have expected it to happen on some days. It nearly happened to me.”

“You need to work on your balance then,” Elborn chuckled. “Good night brother, sleep well and may you be rested for your mission tomorrow.”

“Thank you Elborn, it will be good to escape a few days.”

“Indeed, you need the freedom of open spaces.”

“What can I say? I was born in the woods under the trees and wind. You were born here among the stone walls. We both have our strongholds, mine is just wilder than yours.” Desmir shrugged.

Elborn nodded. “You’re right. Sleep well Desmir.”

“And you brother,” Desmir entered his room quietly as Elborn moved off down the hall, boot heels ringing lightly against the marble floor. The sound bounced off the walls, carried back to the pointed Elven ears.