Revanth asks his uncle to end the war and retreat. Just Olster agrees, a burning missile is launched from the castle. Several more hit, but suddenly one goes out, then another, before they hit.

Looking around for Alton, he spotted a pale, terrified face at the edge of the camp. “Astrid! My love!” Running over to her, he tried to hold her, but she shook free. “Astrid!”

“Here comes another,” she whispered. “No!” she commanded, pointing at the fiery ball. This went out, falling with the others.

Haggard and weak, she stumbled. Revanth rushed to her side, catching her as she fell.

“My love! Stop. You’ll kill yourself.”

“I must. I can’t have you hurt,” she whispered.

Another fireball flew straight toward them. It stopped in midair, spinning wildly until it went out. It crashed to ground like the rest. Alton stood outside the tent, leaning on the standard pole. Teeth gritted, he pushed himself upright.

“Fugging stop!” he bellowed at the night, pointing both hands at the castle. The flaming orb was in the catapult, ready to fly, but it went out and the catapult didn’t release. “That’s it, Astrid. You and I are going there now, to see if we can put a stop to this nonsense.”

“Not at night,” Velda said, emerging from the trees. “They’ll kill you at night.”

“She has a point,” Revanth agreed.

“Then, I suppose, it must be light enough for them to see us.” Alton twitched a hand at the pile of pitch covered orbs. They burst into white flames, but were not consumed. The night grew bright as noon. “Horses!” Alton bellowed.

“Four of them,” Revanth commanded a nearby sentry.

“Only two. You aren’t going and Velda will stay here to make sure you stay put. I won’t put you in harm’s way by taking you to the enemy camp. Stay here, watch after your uncle.”

“But Astrid!”

“Will be fine. I’ll protect her.”

“Alton—!”

His friend pointed to the blazing balls of pitch. “Do you have any doubt I can do as I say?”

Instead of speaking, Revanth kissed his wife, hugging her close. Velda did the same. She could feel the energy thrumming through Alton’s body.

“Be careful, my love. Such power can consume….”

“I know, my sweet. Don’t worry. For the first time in my life, I feel as I’m supposed to feel.” He kissed her deeply, and went to meet the man with the horses. Helping Astrid mount, he saluted Revanth and followed her up the hill to the castle.

They were met at the gate by a worried captain of the guard. “Princess! We saw you coming from the enemy camp. Are you all right? Have you been held hostage?”

It took some explaining, and repeating, because no one wanted to listen to the entire explanation. Everyone wanted to ask questions. After Astrid repeated herself three times, Alton had had enough. Fingers to lips, he whistled sharply.

“Be still!”

Amazingly, they were. Adopting an imperious demeanor, Alton ordered the men about.

“Take us to King Hels and his lady wife. The Princess owes you no explanation.”

“Of course, my Lord. Begging your pardon, Sir,” the captain bowed and scraped.

Leading them personally to the king’s quarters, the captain took up a post outside. Alton suspected he intended to listen. That was fine, as long as he was quiet about it. The king and queen were in their dressing gowns, having been woken from a deep sleep when the first of the missiles went out.

Racing forward, Queen Sarai hugged and kissed her daughter. The king’s reaction was far less overt, but he was just as glad to see her.

“You are well, child? He didn’t—harm you?” her mother asked, ducking her head.

“No, Mama! I love Revanth. We’re married. So, you see, all this fighting is unnecessary. We can go back to the way it was—only with us together, not apart.”

“You’re what?” The Queen wasn’t happy. “To that rapscallion? How has this happened?”

“Mama, Papa, I love Revanth more than my own life. He has saved me from harm more times than I can count. He and Alton came to save me and Velda when we were prisoners….”

This took more explaining. Alton grew weary of all the talk. He wanted the matter settled, over, done. There had been too much killing and he’d had his fill. Not only humans were suffering through this. The animals, as well as the magical folk, were being harmed. When they army cut down trees to build their siege engines, they killed the dryads who were a part of them. The land and water ran red with blood, saturating it for years to come. After, perhaps, twenty minutes of talk, he cleared his throat.

“Astrid?”

She understood what he wanted and nodded. “The war is over, Papa. Declare it to your men. Release any prisoners. Let Prince Olster go home with his injured, and call it a draw. No loser, no winner. Revanth and I have gone through so much to prevent this war—yet here it is anyway. For me, Papa. Stop it for me.”

King Hels sighed heavily. “For you, my daughter. I should have stopped it before it began.”

“It’s my fault,” her mother sobbed. “I pushed and goaded. Queen Melisande and I should have allowed you to wed whomever you like. I suppose it’s too late now to hope that you’re still pure.”

Astrid laughed, kissing her mother’s cheek. “Not for many weeks. I am happier than I have ever been, Mama. I love Revanth, and he loves me. And, unless I am very mistaken, he and I will welcome a tiny prince or princess in a few moons’ time.”

“Already?” Sarai smiled, taking her daughter in her arms. “What are you waiting for, Hels? Send a messenger to Olster. Now! And invite my son-in-law to visit. A baby!” Clasping her hands, she started babbling about plans for nursery, leading Astrid toward a chair.

“What a night,” Hels said.

“Indeed. This is a good thing, Sire. A fine thing.”

Alton rode out with the messenger, only to meet Revanth with one of his own. The leaders were sent for. By dawn, king and prince were seated in a field near the burning mound of pitch balls. The queen had sent out breakfast to them and their generals, who gathered there.

“Will those ever go out?” Revanth asked Alton.

“Any time I like,” his friend replied. “But they give a festive air. Besides, it’s cold and I don’t have a cloak.”

After many hours, an agreement was drawn up and Prince Olster’s army broke camp. Revanth stayed with Astrid at her father’s castle, but his mother and uncle would return in a month’s time to celebrate their marriage. A huge party was planned. The queen would have liked another wedding, but settled for a formal blessing by their priest.

© 2019 Dellani Oakes

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Alton and Revanth enter the camp where Revanth’s uncle is laying siege to Astrid’s castle. They meet his uncle Olster, who appears to be wounded.

“Revanth!” He tried to stand, but pain shot through him. Falling back onto the cushions, he gasped for breath. “Leave us!” he told the sentry. “Send word to his mother.”

“Yes, sire.” The man bowed and left.

Alton knelt by his uncle’s side. “You’ve had a bad time of it, My Lord.”

The prince’s glance would have withered the ears of a lesser fae. “Do you think so, boy? Who is this, Revanth?”

“My friend, Alton. He’s hardly a boy, Uncle. He’s older than both of us together.” He knelt by the bed. “And he’s a good healer, despite what he says to the contrary.”

“May I, Highness?” Alton asked, holding up his hands.

“Why not? I’m dying in any case.”

“I beg to differ. Even without my help, you are not. But I imagine you wish you were, just to make the pain stop.”

The prince snorted, but it hurt him. Gasping, he held his side. “Do what you must.”

“Give me some wine,” he ordered Revanth.

“You really think that’s wise? Won’t it hamper your powers?”

“It’s for your uncle. Drink it all, sire. Then get him something to bite down on. This is not gentle, but it’s quick.”

When the wine was gone, Revanth got a strip of leather for his uncle to bite on.

“Hold him down,” he ordered his friend.

Doing as he was told, Revanth held onto his uncle. He was stronger than he’d been a few months ago, partly from being a horse, and partly from living rough. When he had his uncle pinned, Alton put one hand on the wound, the other on the man’s head. Forcing the healing energy from him, he felt it flow into the prince.

Back arched, Prince Olster screamed, writhing in his nephew’s grip. Guards came in, but stood watching as red and gold flames danced over their leader’s body, flickering over his wounds as they healed. When it was over, Alton fell to the floor, landing in a heap. The guards helped him lie down on a nearby cot and got food and water. Revanth knelt by his uncle’s side, amazed to see the wounds almost completely healed. Prince Olster and Alton slept a long time.

When he woke, Olster talked extensively with his nephew. Alton continued to sleep unimpeded. Revanth checked on him from time to time, but he was in a deep slumber.

Revanth told his uncle of his adventures, glossing over Alton’s powers. He wanted his uncle to believe that the wood sprite’s skills lay in healing, not in destroying. For some reason, that was very important to him. Though he loved his uncle, he was not above using Alton, if he thought it would help him win.

“I think that Astrid and I should approach the castle tomorrow….”

“No. They’d kill you on sight,” Olster warned.

“Then you should retreat.”

“No.”

“Uncle, there is no need for this war. Astrid and I are married. Whatever argument there is between you, it can end. We won’t be marrying anyone else. I love her more than my own life.”

“You’re a spoiled princeling,” his uncle grumbled. “You’re hardly old enough to make up your own mind.”

“I’m twenty years old. I’ve been a man, by every standard, for five years now. I have loved women, killed men, probably sired a son or two.” He didn’t mention that this last was probably with naiads. “I’m fully capable of deciding who I want to marry, and I have done so. Tomorrow, you need to decamp and head home. This war is over nothing.”

“We have been insulted!”

“Is our honor worth so many lives? We saw a soldier, hardly more than a boy, in the medical tent, his guts dangling from his body. Alton couldn’t save him, so he gave him a peaceful death. Is honor worth that boy’s life? He could not have been more than fifteen.”

Olster puffed out his cheeks, pouting and frowning. “Give the order,” he muttered.

“Thank you.”

Revanth ducked through the door to give the order, but saw a glimmer of light from the castle wall. Raised on a motte, it was easy to see. The glimmer grew brighter, ducked and disappeared.

“Did you see that?” he asked a guard.

“See what, Your Highness?”

“That! By the gods!”

The flicker grew even bigger, rising rapidly as it shot in to the air.

“Take cover!” He ran back into the tent, yanking his uncle onto the floor. He pulled Alton down with them. “Wake him!” he commanded.

Olster did what he could to wake the sleeping wood sprite. As Revanth got up, Olster was slapping Alton in the face, bellowing his name.

Dashing out into the camp, Revanth saw the missile hit near the latrines. Exploding when it landed, it sent men and tents flying. Not long after, another thudded nearby, scaring the horses. Those who could wrench free, did, screaming as they ran away. Desperate and worried, Revanth watched as yet another flaming missile came their way. This one stopped at the height of its arc and went out, falling harmlessly to the ground. It bounced and lay still. A flurry o f activity at the castle, showed that this had been noticed. The next burning missile met the same fate.

© 2019 Dellani Oakes

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