Date: Sat, 16 Nov 2013 10:24:07 -0500
From: George Gauthier <georgegauthierdc@gmail.com>
Subject: Elf-Boy and Friends Part 10

				Elf Boy and Friends
				Part 10 of 10
 				by George Gauthier

				Chapter 41. Travels

The next morning the chief topic of conversation around the breakfast table
was the Duel of the Titles, as the incident the previous evening would be
called in local legend.

Aodh promised to compose a satirical ditty about the Duel and debut it at
the summer festival. He also mentioned how gratified he was with his own
modest title. As the legal spouse of a count, he already bore the courtesy
title of Sir and thanked Balan for nominating him for one of the
Commonwealth's orders of chivalry, as a reward for leading the spy
mission. Once conferred by letters patent, Aodh's title of knighthood would
become official.

"Sir Aodh!" I rather like the sound of that." [as always, he pronounced his
name like the vowels in vein.]

"Oh, I don't know." Karel ventured. "I rather like the sound of Sir B or
Sir C."

"Very funny."

"Seriously though," Karel continued, "from what I heard yesterday it sounds
like Dahl and Count Klarendes have considerable judicial powers. What
exactly does that all mean, the High, the Middle, and the Low Justice?"

"Well Karel," began the nobleman. " t is like this. As Chief District
Magistrate I sit in judgement on civil matters and on minor crimes and
misdemeanors, which carry penalties of no more than a moderate fine, a year
in jail, or equivalent public service. Anything beyond that, including
capital crimes, constitutes the High Justice. Now my authority comes from
the state, that is the government of the Commonwealth. In addition, by the
laws of every realm, Druids like our friend Dahl have concurrent
plenipotentiary authority across the globe. Should he choose to, a druid
can bypass the local authorities and courts entirely. He can make his own
judgments about guilt and innocence and impose penalties including capital
punishment. Just look what Dahl did to that army of Amazons and to their
entire society for that matter."

Balandur continued the explanation.

"As a Hand, I have unrestricted discretion too, but I am answerable to the
Chief of the Hands and to the Ruling Council. We Hands always report our
actions and decisions. I cannot remember the last time a Hand exceeded his
authority and was disowned by his superiors. Not even when, as happened
last year, one of us provoked two corrupt battalion commanders to attack
him, which allowedim to settle the issue without all the bothersome
procedures."

"You mean he killed them." Aodh stated flatly. Balan nodded.

"Lopped their heads off is what he did. In legitimate self-defense, I
should add. Had the miscreants surrendered, they would have have had their
day in court. Having said that, we Hands do sometimes commit murder to
avoid nasty political consequences or to rectify miscarriages of
justice. It comes with the job. None of us is a bloodthirsty sort. We dare
not be. We need the cooperation of the civil and military officers of the
state. These men and women cooperate with us readily -- not out of fear but
because we can solve problems they themselves could not resolve with
regular measures."

"Many is a time our investigations have cleared men and women who were
unjustly accused or convicted. You would be surprised how often officers of
the law make snap judgments, then stop trying to find out what really
happened. Because they were sure they knew what had transpired and by whose
hand the evil deed was done, they bent their efforts to building a case
against the hapless accused. That meant putting the worst possible
interpretation on ambiguous or incomplete evidence, ignoring other possible
suspects and investigative leads, over-reliance on informants with axes to
grind, and so forth."

"Very often such miscarriages of justice are the fault of local officials,
demagogues really, clamoring for a quick arrest. Now a quick arrest is easy
enough -- if you don't care about guilt and innocence. Just pick some
plausible scapegoat and chivvy him down the road to a conviction."

"It falls to the Hands then to investigate miscarriages of justice and
recommend commutation of sentence or pardons with compensation. That is one
of my most satisfying duties. In one case I was sure of my facts but could
not prove in a court of law that the local authorities were perfectly well
aware that a man serving a long prison sentence was really innocent. The
investigators in the constabulary and the local magistrate had taken bribes
to convict him and to protect the guilty party, an influential landowner. I
granted the convict a full pardon and made him a financial settlement. The
corrupt officials and the actual culprit later met with unfortunate
accidents. I am quite good at arranging accidents, even if I do say so
myself."

"Wow!" the youngsters breathed.

A year went by, pleasantly and largely uneventfully.

Although all the young males added a chronological year to their official
ages, none of them aged physically thanks to the various magics which
maintained their youth. Dahl and Aodh looked seventeen and sixteen
respectively, the impish Ran fifteen or sixteen, the twins about eighteen,
as did Owain. And all of them would stay that way for centuries. Thanks to
his elven heritage Klarendes was unchanged as well. So were the long-lived
giant, though he, like the count, looked like a man rather than a boy.

Dahl visited Elysion for a month. Klarendes graciously shared his boy with
the young elven druid. The two younger males had been lovers before Aodh
ever met the count, who was wise enough to see that Aodh's love for Dahl in
no way diminished his bond with Klarendes. The two youths went swimming and
canoeing at the lake, visited the scenic waterfall for which Elysion was
famous, and even lent a hand when scholars examining the ancient henge of
standing stones took ink rubbings of the carvings and dug exploratory
trenches in search of artifacts. Quite a few of the local males took a
fancy to these two nude youths of surpassing beauty and wished fervently
they could bed one or both of them. Regardless of sexual fantasies,
everyone thought they made a cute couple.

After that pleasant interlude, Dahl left to see how his friends the
brontotheres were getting along. The young ones had matured and started to
mate though there were no births as yet, given their long gestation
period. The beasts were keeping to the transition zone between the
mountains and the open plains. But then they liked to both graze and
browse. The sunny and treeless grasslands occupied by ranchers held little
attraction for them. No signs either of incursions by Frost Giants or
centaurs nor did he expect any for some years to come.

Dahl returned to the Commonwealth proper via the tunnel through the
mountains connecting with riverboats south to the mouth of the Long River
and across the Great Inland Fresh Water Sea to check on his success in
controlling an invasive species in the Ashokan Archipelago. Two years
earlier Dahl had imported an epiphytic vine to control the Emerald Ash
Borer which was destroying the forest cover and watersheds on the islands.

The twins and Ran, the so-called three twins, went on walkabout, visiting
the lands around the Great Inland Fresh Water Sea before an extended visit
with the druids of the Great Southern Forest. The Commonwealth financed
their travels during which they were charged to update the very poor maps
that existed of those regions. The small states along its shores had never
let a survey team into their territory. The twins relied on their sense of
direction and their magically enhanced skill at dead reckoning to establish
reference points. They took detailed notes and drew sketch maps. From these
they would later construct professional maps.

Their travels also took them to an enchanted vale inhabited by forest elves
who dwelt in tree houses raised high off the ground to catch cooling
breezes. Many of the trees and shrubs bore blossoms in season or at least
were adorned with ornamental bracts or leaves. Babbling brooks threaded the
whole area, supplying fresh water for gardens and for domestic use. A hot
spring fed both baths and cooking basins. Ran introduced his game with the
pie tin to the local youths who adopted it enthusiastically, both for the
sport itself and for the chance it gave to show off the svelte and lissome
bodies elven youths were noted for.

Later the trio visited the caverns of the dwarves of the Limestone
Basin. Clever in business dealings, they had opened a portion of their
scenic caves to visitors, creating a lucrative tourist industry that
offered tours, lodging, food and drink, and souvenirs like geodes and other
mineral specimens and crystals as well as trinkets and memorabilia the
dwarves themselves manufactured.

The dwarves feted the three dwarf-friends as visiting dignitaries. Of
course, cordial as their welcome was, there was no spark between the boys
and their hosts the dwarves. Things were quite different with the
elves. The social calendars of all three visitors were full during their
sojourn in the vale of the elves. The local boys and adult elves could not
believe their luck. Three blonds at once had come calling! They buzzed
around the trio like bees around honey.

The only sour note was that sounded upon their arrival in the vale. The
fastidious elves insisted that human visitors undergo a thorough purging
and cleansing, inside and out. The twins had undergone this once before,
but had assumed that, as they were now elf-friends, that rule no longer
applied to them. Unfortunately it did. Nothing personal of course. Willy
nilly, the twins had to comply.

They were handed over to four bath attendants who looked to be in their
mid-teens, though with elves age was hard to tell. All four were cute lads
whose eyes sparkled with more than a hint of mischief, a predilection that
was borne out by the enthusiasm with which they carried out their
duties. First they had the twins kneel with a bucket set in front of
each. The attendants tickled the inside of the twins' throats to make them
upchuck the contents of their stomachs. Then they had to swallow a
purgative which ensured that their stomachs were entirely empty. A draught
of cool spring cleansed their palates and settled their stomachs. After
that, the attendants twice filled the the boys' bottoms with a warm enema
which made them evacuate their bowels explosively. After this rather
unpleasant episode came a bath which featured a good deal of hard scrubbing
with soap and pumice stones.

A much more pleasant phase followed. The boyish bath attendants rubbed
sweet smelling oils into their skin, taking care not to miss any nooks or
crannies. Their attentions to the twins' manly parts produced a predictable
reaction. Actually that part was a lot of fun. The bath boys helped the
young humans out, relieving their arousals with their oral
ministrations. All four attendants were cute kids, but then they were
elves, weren't they.

Lastly the twins' heads were clipped extra short. True, the boys normally
went about close-cropped, but this was ridiculous. Ran pointed at the
hapless pair then laughed and laughed, holding his ribs.

"You should see yourselves, my friends, your skin are practically glowing
red from the abrasive action of the pumice ,and you have little more than
fuzz on your skulls. How fortunate it is, that I, as an elf, am exempt from
such indignities."

Jemsen frowned.

"Isn't that because our hosts didn't realize that you were one-quarter
human? Now since you thought to tease us in our time of tribulation, I am
thinking we ought to correct that particular oversight. Bath boys, seize
him!"

Poor Ran struggled uselessly, his tiny body snatched up by the four
attendants, gleeful to have another victim to work on. Since he wore his
dark blond locks a bit longer than the twins, he looked that much more
forlorn afterwards, his shorn locks littering the floor. After which he
suffered one personal indignity after another just like the twins had till
he too was glowing with oils and good health.

That aside, their sojourn with the elves was a lot of fun. The ate well,
slept late, and frolicked with the lively elves. Though the twins also got
serious studying maps the elves kept in their libraries, that left plenty
of time for fun and frolic in congenial surroundings. Virtually everyone
offered hospitality to them as elf-friends. Singly or together, the twins
and Ran had some of the best sex ever.

Finally the trio traveled to the stronghold of the druids and settled in
for a long stay.

"You mean the Forest would not mind if we brought a deer down with our
bows" Jemsen asked Owain at breakfast one morning.

"Not at all, as long as it was for food and not merely for sport. The
Forest holds sentient species like ours to a higher standard that the
animals. Nature is red in tooth and claw. Cats and shrews and wolverines
often kill wantonly, but then they do not know any better, being driven by
their instincts. Only sentient species are morally responsible for wanton
killing."

The twins took the opportunity to improve their field craft under the
tutelage of the druids. No one could track like a druid or knew the use of
medicinal plants whether growing wild or in herb gardens. They also knew
which ones were poisonous, and the best remedies to counter them.

Since the boys were now as long lived as their friends, the druids shared
some of their philosophy and practical wisdom for living on when others you
have befriended start dying on you. In time the twins expected those losses
would include their friend Arik and the twins' kin in their native
village. The twins resolved to make at least one more trip there before
their own unchanging youth was noticed and provoked jealousy. Even a
level-headed sort like their uncle might wonder why them and not
himself. It was only human nature.

Jemsen, Karel and Ran were socially popular among the druids. Their sexy
bodies and cute faces and outgoing personalities made for a welcome change
of pace. The stronghold of the druids was a cheery place during the visit,
though by the end, some of the older druids were glad to see or rather hear
the end of the twins' endless questions. Didn't those two kids ever shut
up?

Ran, scamp that he was, kept a running total of the druids he bedded,
announcing at the end of their visit that only seven of twenty has escaped
his net, three of whom were away on various missions. The other four
preferred to consort exclusively with females. Their loss really, in Ran's
not so humble estimation.

				Chapter 42. The Raid

The "three twins" eventually went back to Elysion for an extended
stay. That gave Ran a chance to renew his affair with Arik. Ardent though
their feelings were for each other, both youths had now put their
relationship into proper perspective. What they had was more serious than
puppy love, but both youths also knew they were not each other's life
partners. They were two good friends who enjoyed sharing their bodies
whenever they could get together.

Also in residence was Balan, on a long-overdue and well-deserved vacation
from his arduous duties as a Hand of the Commonwealth. The truth is that,
at nearly one thousand, Balan was starting to feel his years. Oh he had a
mission or two or three left in him, but already he could sense the onset
of what, in only a handful of years, would be his kind's swift decline into
decrepit old age. An unenviable prospect, he didn't mind admitting to his
old friend, the count. He had left retirement till too late. There went his
plan to spend his sunset years among the natural philosophers at the
capital.

Balan and Klarendes spent long hours together talking, reminiscing, smoking
their pipes, and playing a board game whose pieces represented cavalry,
infantry, chariots, and olifants all of which moved in different ways. The
object of the game was to capture the opposing army's general. Now
Klarendes was considered to be quite good at the popular game, he had a
real knack for strategy, but he was no match for his friend's centuries of
experience. Still the count did sometimes win a match or two. Innate talent
did count for something after all. Aodh merely watched. For all his keen
intelligence, the boy just couldn't get his head around the subtle game of
strategy, possibly due to the feline component of his nature.

All was well that spring in Elysion. The valley was peaceful and
prosperous; its people were healthy and happy. The yields of wheat and rye
and oats looked likely to set records. The boughs of the trees in the
orchards bent down, heavy with fruit and nuts. Even the weather was
unseasonably cool, still hot of course, but a welcome relief from the
usually oppressive tropical heat. Life was good.

Till the day of the raid.

One fine morning in late spring, Arik went out to the forest to select and
mark trees for lumberjacks to fell and drag to the sawmill. Their wood was
destined for Master Justin's workshop.  Arik still worked for the master
carpenter who was also a joiner, that is a maker of furniture. The working
of wood was in Arik's blood. It gave him a good deal of satisfaction to
produce something tangible and useful. It was something he was good at, and
his skills and hard work were appreciated by his community. Happy to have
his former journeyman back with him after his adventures with Balan, Justin
set him to working on his finer pieces, leaving the new apprentice to the
humbler tasks.

For this outing task Arik wore a deerskin loincloth, the handle of his
hatchet stuck through the thong around his hips. He had the horn of the
Frost Giant slung over his shoulder intending to signal the lumberjacks
when to set out with their gear. Ran went along with Arik to mark the
trees, happy as any elf-boy should be, to find himself wholly surrounded by
nature rather than the works of man. Ran was in the nude or, as the elves
would have it "skin clad".

Off by themselves, halfway up on the slopes that ringed the green bowl that
was Elysion, the two youths were the first to see the raiders that the
Adversary had dispatched to Elysion, a mixed force of Frost Giants and
Centaurs. A trio of Trackers led the way with five slash bears lumbering
along in their wake. They were just cresting the lip of the bowl that held
the secluded valley when the boys spotted them.

Arik raised the horn to his lips and sounded the alarm and call to
arms. Ran took off at top speed to carry the specifics of the threat to the
village and manor, leaving the much heavier and slower Arik to shadow the
invaders. Here was where Arik's hard-earned field craft paid
off. Completely unobserved by the raiders, Arik watched as four Frost
Giants and twelve centaurs headed downslope toward the settlement in the
center of the green bowl.

Looking very different from mythological centaurs, these creature were
insect-like monsters who nevertheless walked on their four hind limbs while
in front their bodies angled up to a torso with long arms and a head,
whence their name. Their four hind limbs ended in hoof-like structures
formed from fuzed digits, but their arms had large hands with three fingers
and a semi-opposable thumb. The centaurs could and did make and use tools
and weapons. In battle they slashed at their foes with a curved saber in
each hand. Joined directly to their bodies without a true neck, their heads
could not swivel. To compensate, the beasts not only had two large eyes in
front for binocular vision, they also had two small eyes in the back of the
head. These small eyes could not move, but they extended the centaurs'
peripheral vision to 360 degrees.

Left behind atop the ridge was one lone figure standing on the rim of the
valley, the leader of the raid, a human wizard in a cowled robe. Arik crept
toward him as stealthily as he could. Nevertheless, just as the youth
settled into what he thought a good spot from which to observe the man, the
cloaked figured turned directly toward Arik.

"You might as well come out of the woods, young man. With my magic I can
sense that you are crouched behind that split boulder. No doubt it was you
who blew the horn to sound the alarm. My compliments on your courage and
quick thinking. My raiders will now have their work cut out for them,
attacking a militia mustered and braced for attack. Meanwhile, you interest
me. Let's have a chat while we wait till my forces finish what I have sent
them to do. I am afraid our talk will be a short one. Once I satisfy my
curiosity about you, I will have to kill you. Nothing personal, of course."

"Also, though I do not know what your magical gift might be, I must warn
you: don't try anything. Besides my own magic, I wear a charmed amulet that
shields me from any magical attack."

There being no point in further concealment, Arik stepped out in plain
sight.

"My oh my. I do so admire a big strapping youth such as yourself. I think I
will spare you long enough for a proper shag. Meanwhile, why don't you get
rid of that loincloth. There's a good lad."

Arik complied and stripped, turning slowly so that the man could get a good
look at him. Meanwhile, with the wizard's attention focussed on his nude
body, Arik used his gift to raise a good sized rock that lay on the ground
behind the wizard to a position fifty feet above the man's head. Then Arik
let it go. It fell and connected with a crunch. The wizard's head burst
like a ballon, brain matter spurting from his crushed skull.

Arik had reasoned that while he could not have flung his poisoned
arrowheads against the man even if he had brought them along, that amulet
of his likely protected him only against direct attack by magic. All Arik
had to do was to lift that rock into the air, turn his magic off, and let
gravity do the rest.

Hearing Arik's signal the village militia had mobilized and formed up three
hundred strong in a field just beyond the built-up area. The slinger boys
lined up behind the shield wall, ready to throw oil-filled globes at the
enemy. The women gathered up the children and forted up in their stout
homes arming themselves with repeating crossbows. As captain of the
militia, Klarendes climbed the watchtower to direct the battle. Aodh in his
panther form went up there with him as his bodyguard, while the count's ten
Molossian hounds stood guard at the base of the tower. Klarendes had to be
protected at all costs. He was the key to victory with his ability to rain
fiery destruction on the enemy.

The twins went around and distributed small bottles of Balan's silvered
lacquer to some of the better bowmen, explaining that silver would burn the
Trackers' flesh. The twins had coated their own arrowheads with it as well.

At Klarendes' request, Balan took command of the militia reserves, forty
men stationed in a compact block a little behind the axe men and bowmen and
slingers. Also under the giant's command were a dozen riders, Klarendes'
arms men, who took the field mounted on war horses, their feet secure in
the stirrups they had trained with over the past two years. The riders were
armored and armed with lance and sword. Facing his forces, the giant raised
his voice and told them:

"Men of Elysion. You don't need a speech from me to know what you are
fighting for. Just remember this: we are the reserves. So we won't be the
ones to start this fight, but we may well be the ones who finish it. Stand
your ground no matter how much you want to rush forward and help your
friends and neighbors when they clash with the enemy. Remember, they are
depending on us to counter any surprises or turning movements or
breakthroughs and to finish the enemy off. We can't let even one of these
creatures get away. Can't have frost giants and centaurs and Trackers and
slash bears lurking in the forests. I know, these creatures are fearsome,
but believe me I also know from experience that they are mortal. Cut them
and they bleed. They can die. We can kill them."

At their general murmur in the affirmative, Balan brandished his two-handed
sword, confident that its silver inlays made it the weapon of choice
against Trackers and its steel the best counter to Frost Giants.

The defenders could not know that Balan was himself the prime target of the
raiders. Through his spies in the Commonwealth capital the Dark Prophet had
learned that Balan was planning a strike at his own capital and center of
power, a plan based on the intelligence gained more than a year earlier by
the spy mission conceived by Aodh. Hence this preemptive strike to kill the
giant before he could assemble his strike force. It was fortunate then that
the giant commanded the militia reserves. Otherwise he would have stationed
himself front and center where even he could have been overwhelmed as the
raiders concentrated on him, no matter anyone else did.

The twins started things off; their long bows far outranged any
crossbow. The Trackers were fast and did not run straight at the defenders
but jinked left and right. It took a couple of missed shots for the twins
to see the pattern, then they put arrows into two of the foul beasts. Both
were lucky shots. Karel's arrow pierced the Tracker's heart killing it
outright. Jemsen's arrow cut an abdominal artery, causing massive internal
bleeding, taking most of the fight out of the demon beast. Next the twins
shifted their aim to the bears, skewering three but to little effect. The
bodies of the bears were just too big; their vitals protected by too much
muscle and bone.

The slash bears surged forward, aiming to break the line and get at
Balan. They failed. FIrst the bears and the single remaining Tracker ran
into a storm of crossbow bolts shot by the crossbowmen. In terrific pain
the bears nevertheless closed with the militia roaring and slashing. The
militia roared and slashed right back with their axes, losing several men
killed or wounded for each bear they stopped. It was over quickly with that
last remaining Tracker and the slash bears literally chopped to
pieces. Klarendes signaled the men to dress their lines and brace for the
main attack.

The Frost Giants were bigger and more formidable than slash bears. They
wore armor and carried shields and huge swords far outreaching the short
handled axes of the villagers. The centaurs were nearly as massive as the
giants though built lower to the ground. Though their chitinous armor
protected their innards from arrows except at very close range, their limbs
were vulnerable to axe blades. As the raiders got closer, the slingers
flung volleys of glass globes which Klarendes ignited as they fell among
the enemy. The flames had little effect on the armored Frost Giants who
anyway blocked many of the globes with their shields.

The centaurs were another matter. The heat really got to them. First they
had left the shade of the forests to march several miles under the grueling
tropical sun. Now they had to contend with fire raining down on them from
the sky. The burning oil clung to their chitinous armor, and the flames set
fire to the field of ripe grain they were crossing to get at the
militia. Scorched and enraged, they charged the line aiming to break
through where the slash bears had tried. The doughty militia fought
stubbornly to hold the line but were pushed aside by the sheer weight and
savagery of the centaurs. Right behind them strode the Frost Giants. The
slinger boys broke ranks and ran back to join the reserves with Balan.

That was Klarendes cue. He cast great balls of fire at the centaurs who had
broken through the line and were now in the clear. The stricken creatures
screeched horridly as the flames consumed them, literally cooking them
alive, like lobsters in a pot.

Two Frost Giants turned toward the count up in the tower intending take him
out of the fight. The Molossian hounds threw themselves at the giants,
trying to hamstring their huge foes. Their attack hampered the giants, but
the thick leather leggings the giants wore kept the hounds from inflicting
disabling wounds. The hounds would have been more effective against the
bears, had any survived.

The Frost Giant in the lead came close to the platform only to have Aodh
leap on his head and tear his face off with claws and fangs. The wounded
Frost Giant managed to grab the shapeshifter and fling him bodily against a
stone wall, which left the wir stunned. The second Frost Giant moved toward
the downed panther and raised a booted foot to stomp him into the earth.

"Oh no you don't!" Klarendes cried.

With a downward slash of his arm, Klarendes unleashed white fire at the
Frost Giant cutting his foe in twain diagonally from shoulder to hip. The
grisly halves fell apart and lay smoking. Then the count turned his white
fire on the giant Aodh had blinded, cutting him in half at the waist.

Next Klarendes gave Balan the signal for the reserves to advance against
the remaining centaurs, the ones Klarendes dared not target because they
were too mixed in with the defenders. Axe men from the main line turned
about and came at the centaurs from their rear. The riders circled to the
right and charged the centaurs with lances lowered. With the momentum of
horse and rider behind them, the spearpoints of the riders penetrated the
chitinous armor of the centaurs to reach their vitals. The infantry then
joined the attack from front and back. Their fighting spirit up, the men
first hacked the limbs off the centaurs then crushed their skulls. The
twins fought with the militia. Working as a team, the pair would thrust
their long quarterstaffs to fend off a centaur with his flailing scimitars
while the militia chopped away at its legs. Soon all the centaurs lay dead
though at the cost of heavy casualties.

Balandur took on the remaining pair of Frost Giants. His two foes met him
confident in their advantages of size and strength and numbers.  Once again
Balan's uncanny speed and magically enhanced strength came as a nasty
surprise to his enemies. The Frost Giants learned, to their cost, why Balan
and his kind were known as the Dread Hands of the Commonwealth. Balan not
only killed them, he chopped their heads off and kicked them contemptuously
toward the pile of dead centaurs.

"There, join your friends on their funeral pyre."

The villagers dragged the headless bodies and those of the other fallen
giants and slash bears and Trackers and piled them on top. Klarendes set
them alight and kept the flames burning till nothing was left but ashes.

The good count was relieved to see that Aodh was all right. The Frost Giant
had broken some of his ribs, but his transformation back into human form
fixed that handily.

The worst of it was that nearly thirty villagers had died, and twice that
number lay wounded, many seriously. The healers did what they could for
them, but those with the worst injuries died anyway.

Just as the count was absorbing this sad news, Arik came running up.

"Sorry I couldn't get here in time to join the fight, Captain Klarendes,
sir. I did take out their wizard up on the rim of the valley. And I got a
good look at the battle as I circled around to get here."

Klarendes nodded.

"You did your part and then some Arik, sounding the warning with that
horn. Thanks to you and to Ran we were braced for their attack. And now you
tell me that you killed their wizard too. Good work. Your actions saved
many lives today. Never think otherwise."

"Speaking of Ran, where is he? Anyone seen him?" Arik asked anxiously.

"I have." Karel answered, his voice choked with emotion. "I went looking
for him, and I found him."

Karel paused to gather himself to impart bad news.

"And??" Arik asked impatiently.

"It seems one of the centaurs tried to break into the school house where
many children had taken shelter. Everyone else was occupied with other foes
so Ran took it upon himself to defend the school. Taking up a spear, he
climb the next roof over then jumped off, his spear aimed downward at the
creature's armored carapace. Driven by his weight and momentum it
penetrated and pierced the centaur's vitals but not before the dying
creature lashed out at Ran. I found his broken body lying by the
schoolhouse door. All the children inside were safe, thanks to him."

The boy then broke down, his grief overwhelming him. Jemsen held him, both
twins sobbing and crying. Arik was stunned. He had never thought Ran would
die before he did, not a long-lived elf-boy. That was so wrong. Such things
should not happen in a well-ordered world.

Tears streaming from his eyes, Arik went over to the school and retrieved
Ran's broken body, cradling it in his arms as he took Ran to the manor
house where he cleaned the corpse and laid it out in the sitting room
covering it with a sarong. It seem the versatile piece of cloth had found
yet another use — as a shroud. As the news spread of what Ran had done
and the price he had paid villagers filed in to pay their respects to the
boy who had saved their children. With the shroud covering his broken body,
Ran's face showed no trace of the trauma of his death. He lay as if in
sleep, in death as in life, a pretty little elf-boy.

As his closest friends, the twins were inconsolable. So was Arik who vowed
that someday he would make their Adversary pay. He asked Balan to include
him in any strike planned against the foe.

This was not mere bravado from a grief stricken lover. Arik did not want to
live in the shadow of Adversary, waiting for the inevitable blow to fall,
always knowing that nothing anyone did mattered in the least. It would all
be destroyed in fire and blood. What point then for a master joiner like
Justin to produce quality furniture and cabinetry intended to be passed on
down the generations as family heirlooms. A life lived in fear of impending
doom was no sort of life at all.

Arik also pointed out that the power of his own magical gift, allied to
Balan's strength and prowess with weapons, made them a formidable team. The
two of them might do much together.

Balan agreed. He had been impressed by the way boy used his magical gift so
cleverly and so flexibly. Look how he killed the wizard who thought himself
protected against magic. Balan also felt the loss of Ran keenly. He had
taken a real shine to the elf-boy; the pretty little imp was the sort you
are happy to have around you. Then suddenly he was gone, slain by an evil
creature. Gods, what a shame.

The funerals were held the next day, a necessity in that tropical climate,
the bodies interred in the village cemetery, a sandy patch of ground half a
mile distant from the village. Most of the populace were on hand to bury
friends and neighbors. One of the mourners was a local girl and her
year-old son, called Little Ran. Against all odds, the elf-boy had gotten
her pregnant, and she elected to keep her baby. Klarendes provided a dowry
and arranged a marriage with a decent lad who did not mind raising someone
else's child. The young man wanted a big family and was pleased at this
proof of the girl's fecundity.

The fallen were not buried in a mass grave but as individuals in their
family plots, their names and dates to be inscribed by masons on stones set
flat into the ground. Ran was laid to rest in the Klarendes family
plot. The count had come to regard the irrepressible elven poplet as a sort
of scapegrace but lovable nephew.

Klarendes spoke the eulogy for the fallen. No fancy words, just simple
truths. He promised that the families of the fallen would never suffer from
want. Elysion took care of its own.

Then Balan with Arik at his side spoke about Ran, about how, though an
outsider he had put everything at risk to save the forty children
barricaded in that school. It had cost him dearly, not mere decades but
centuries of life. Nor was this the first time Ran had been so brave and
selfless, for had he not done the same thing at Stone Mountain. That is
what made his loss, his sacrifice so special. Arik described Ran as a
bright ray of sunshine in the lives of all those who met him. Let no one
forget his humor, his love of live, and yes, his impertinence and
rambunctiousness. It was all a part of what made Ran who he was.

As Klarendes and Aodh left the cemetery, they saw Esmeralda settle herself
down next to the twins who were keeping vigil over Ran's grave. She too was
mourning the loss of her good friend and sometime partner in mischief.

				Chapter 43. The Mission

The next spring Balan returned to Elysion for a final visit before heading
off into the lands of the barbarians. With him came an unlikely ally, a
tall skinny youth with gangly arms and legs dressed in a sleeveless
tunic. Not particularly handsome nor yet unpleasant to look upon, he was
well spoken and clearly well read and intelligent. More of a bookworm than
an adventurer, he seemed ill-suited to venturing into enemy
territory. While reticent about his past and abilities, he was friendly
enough but seemed to have something weighing on his soul. He named himself
Rolf.

"This cannot be your entire strike force, just you, Arik, and this Rolf."
the count asked his old friend.

"No, Taitos, we have a military escort as well.There an entire battalion of
mounted infantry under the command of Colonel Urqaart waiting at a
rendezvous up north near the trade road. Dahl and Merry will go with us
too. From the rendezvous we proceed east till we peel off from the
soldiers, taking just five men disguised as caravan guards. We ourselves
will be merchants from the North Country dealing in amber, aromatic gums,
and medicinal plants which I asked you to supply."

"Your trade goods are gathered, as we agreed last time you were here."

"Fine. And since we have a little time, I hope you won't mind our imposing
on your hospitality for a few days."

"Of course. Is it really true, my old friend that you won't be coming back
to us?"

"I can guarantee it." the gawky visitor interrupted. "It is the only way we
can prevail against the dark power that threatens the world."

"And just why is that?"

"We now know so much more about our adversaries than we did before, thanks
to Aodh and the wirs he recruited. The enemy of old, the barbarians, are
under new management, a new leader, much smarter than the former Dark
Prophet, has displaced the original leader of the cult. This new leader,
this Urloch is the head of both a cult and a great state built upon the
original barbarian confederation. His capital is the political religious,
economic, industrial, and military heart of our enemies. That is what we
must destroy, not just the man himself who might be replaced in turn, as he
superseded the Dark Prophet."

"His capital is ringed with army camps where they train and drill regular
armies. Not just foot soldiers in formations, but officers in military
academies. And they are equipping their armies not only with weapons but
also supply trains and siege engines. Artificers and engineers work
steadily at improving their equipment. Meanwhile they are building military
roads west and south.

"Surrounding the capital are satellite cities that manufacture the
implements of war and factories that turn out tons of rations that last
indefinitely without spoilage. Meanwhile they keep shipping supplies to
that staging area the Frost Giants are building, the one that Arik and
Balan found nearly two years ago. Plus they supply the centaurs as well,
who are still rebuilding after their losses on their long march across the
Western Plains and the Hot lands."

"I estimate the population of the capital area, just the built up zone,
including army camps and satellite cities, at over million, with two
million more in the surrounding agricultural zones and industrial towns,
mines and mills. And there are tens of millions in scattered settlements in
their vast domain whose population must be nearly three times that of the
Commonwealth."

Balan then added:

"If they all came against us at once, barbarians, Frost Giants, and
centaurs, wave after wave in a war of attrition, I am afraid even the
Commonwealth might fall. Even your final strike with white fire, Taitos,
could not stop the forces they could bring against us, much less destroy
their heartland."

"Then what can your small team do much against such vast power?"

The visitor spoke up again, his voice full of sorrow.

"That is where I come in -- to fulfill what I now know is my destiny. I
will visit Death upon them, those who live in the capital zone, all of
them, three million souls: soldiers, civilians, workers and farmers, all of
them: men, women, and children. Even their dogs and cats. Wipe out their
center and all will collapse. The confederation will shatter, the faithful
will lose their prophet, the newly established state apparatus will
wither. Soon the centaurs will starve, and the Frost Giants will disperse
and return whence they came."

"Do you really have such awesome power?" Aohd asked.

"I am afraid I do. I am a death wizard, a sort of anti-druid, if you
will. It is my magical gift, which turns their own life force against
them. A fraction of a living being's life force suffices to kill him. I
take the rest and I grow stronger as my power accumulates. I have been
gathering this power to me for many centuries. Understand, despite my
lethal gift I am not a heartless killer. I do not take pleasure in hurting
people, much less killing them, but sometimes it is necessary. Let me give
you a couple of examples."

"There was once an island in the Great Inland Sea that was quarantined
because of a deadly plague. Even as the disease raged, word got out that
gold and silver had been found there. Fortune hunters flocked there to mine
the gold in its hills. They overwhelmed the small flotilla quarantining the
island and its doomed population and set about unearthing precious
metals. Afterwards the gold miners would have taken to their ships and
scattered to the winds, carrying the pestilence with them to all the lands
around the Inland Sea. To prevent that, I sailed out alone to the island
and sterilized it. From the topmost hill to the shore line nothing lived,
not a human, not an animal, not a plant, not even the smallest animalcules
natural philosophers have seen with their microscopes. Nothing."

"Similarly I once stopped the spread of the red pestilence from a castle
where the "quality" folk of the countryside thereabouts had retreated,
trusting to isolation to protect them while leaving their dependents to die
miserably in the surrounding villages and towns. Fortunately Healers and
herbalists organized the populace and identified and isolated the carriers
of the disease, sparing most of the people from the infection. Finally the
red pest broke out in the castle as well but no healer would enter to help
the selfish aristocrats. In panic, they readied themselves for an armed
breakout to scatter and flee for their lives. I stopped them. That time I
did spare the cats but nothing larger."

"For a while there, I became an avenging angel, going from town to town,
slaying street criminals and road bandits or those moral monsters whose
wealth and power put them above the law, but I stopped because I found
myself enjoying it too much. Wielding Death is a heady power, best kept
restrained lest it corrupt the soul."

"As to what happens afterwards, that will be up to the living to decide. I
myself will die in that cataclysm as will Balan and Arik whom I need to get
me into the throne room to confront this Urloch. Once I loose my final
strike, killing everyone and every thing above the physiological level of a
mouse out to a distance of half a day's ride, no one will escape, least of
all us three."

"Nor would we ourselves want to survive and live with much blood on our
hands, so many lives." Balan and Arik admitted. "We would be mass murderers
on a scale never before surpassed. We take such a monstrous sin upon
ourselves only to spare the world much worse, a future of unending
darkness."

"Is that truly the only way?"

"I only wish it were not." the anti-druid replied for them all. "We have to
strike now while their power is concentrated in one locale. The alternative
is endless war and wholesale slaughter of populations in the tens of
millions and after that the arbitrary rule of an undying dictator and the
imposition of an intolerant and evil religion on everyone who is left. That
is what we are willing to give our lives to stop. It is a sacrifice which
all three of us are ready to make. Try not to think too harshly of us for
what we must do."

"Never!" Klarendes and Aodh assured them. "You are courageous and moral
persons trying to save all that is best in this world of ours."

As if to indorse their words Esmeralda climbed onto the giant's shoulders
and rubbed her face against this cheek. Having marked the giant as one of
her own, she settled down companionably on his shoulders and purred.

That evening Aodh slipped into Balan's room. No words needed to be
said. They realized this was their final tryst. The boy melted into the
giant's arms, determined to express physically the love and admiration he
had for Balan. And so he did for the next three nights till they left on
their mission.

Balan gave Klarendes a copy of his will by which he bequeathed his landed
estates and personal effects to his brother but left his substantial
financial assets to a trust he had set up for all the boys: Dahl, Aodh, and
the twins. Ran would have been included too but for his untimely
death. Count Klarendes would act as trustee for each beneficiary until he
reached the age of twenty-five. With their financial futures secured in
this way, each of them could live quite comfortably for the rest of their
long lives. Of course, neither Dahl nor Aodh really needed Balan's
money. With his earth magic, the young druid could draw precious metals
from deep within the earth. And Aodh had his legal union with Klarendes,
but having their own fortunes would establish all four youths as
substantive persons in their own right to go along with their titles and
continent-wide reputations.

The strike team's leave-taking was hard on everyone. The count and the
giant had been best friends for twenty years, and Aodh was one of the great
loves of Balan's life. The couple maintained their decorum even though
their eyes were shining. Once the travelers drew away, Klarendes and Aodh
wept in each other's arms. Sensitive to their moods, even Esmeralda felt
forlorn.

As he rode off, Balan looked back and waved a final farewell to Klarendes,
very likely the best friend he had ever had and to Aodh, his last great
love. He was glad the two of them had each other. As for himself, a
thousand years of life and adventure was a good run for anyone, even a
giant. The grey coming into his hair was the first sign that he had reached
an inflection point toward a physical decline that would accelerate in less
than a decade. He was resigned to sacrificing his remaining years to save
the world from unending darkness. Who would want to live in such a world
anyway. Not Sir Balandur of Leinster.

Their trip north was not uneventful. The trio of travelers was set upon by
bandits on their way to the trade road. Balan slew four with his sword and
Arik blinded three more Fetching their eyes before finishing them off with
his long knife. Meanwhile, trying to conceal his power from hidden
lookouts, Rolf made it seem like his own pair of kills were the result of
his skill with a blade. He stabbed his foes just after he cast death on
them.

Arik and Balan were pleased when they joined up with Dahl and Merry at the
rendezvous. Though the pair would not be joining them in the final assault,
they would escort them a good deal of the way. Dahl and Merry were there to
make sure the three reached their jumping off point into the lands of the
barbarians. They were also the strike team's line of communications. Dahl
and Merry would be watching through Balan's and Rolf's eyes when they
finally confronted Urloch.

Balan introduced Rolf to his friends who explained the plan and his part in
it.

"So are you really the Death Bringer of legend. Is Rolf your real name?"
Dahl asked.

"Yes, it is. I have used many names over the centuries, but the one I was
born with and soon shall die with is Rolf. That young elf-boy who went by
the name of Rolf has faded almost entirely except for one treasured
memory. The one shining highlight of my youth was a bittersweet love affair
with another elf-boy my age. His was named Meirionnydd or Merry, like your
unicorn friend. He had a good heart my Merry did and a sharp mind. I loved
him inordinately, but his life magic lead him down a different path from
mine. For all our love for each other, our magics were simply
incompatible."

<But now that incompatibility had drawn us back together, Rolf.>

"What? M m merry?? Is that you in there? You're the unicorn!"

<Yes it is me, Rolf, Merry, your Merry. I am in my second life so I am
unrecognizable in this equine form, but I have never forgotten you nor what
we once had. I was so sorry we had to go our separate ways. I have to say
that even after so many centuries you look much the same, only a little
older and rather care-worn.>

"I come by that look honestly. I must say you are very handsome as a
unicorn though it does look strange."

<I am accustomed to this form by now though I do very much miss having
hands, especially those times when I want to pick something up off the
ground, or to turn the pages of a book, or to caress a pretty elf-boy.>

"Ha! Some things never change!"

<It really is a small world isn't it, Rolf? I am so glad we have come
together if only for this short while.>

The two old friends went off together and communed till late. After two
magically extended lifetimes apart, they knew it was impossible to simply
pick up where they left off, but they could be friends once more and share
a final adventure. When Rolf and his strike team finally separated from the
main party. he told Merry that through his magic he would bequeath the
unicorn a gift, though he would not say just what it was.

			Chapter 44. Destruction and Rebirth

The strike team peeled off from its escort just inside barbarian
territory. Using forged transit papers, they passed the
frontier. Unfortunately a few days later at a market town their guards were
overheard speaking the language of the Commonwealth. When the town watch
tried to arrest them, a running fight broke out. During the pursuit, the
strike team lost contact with their men.

From that point on the three members of the strike team, Balan, Arik, and
Rolf, were on their own. They made their way south, guided by the maps and
the intel Aodh's team had developed the year before. They tried to avoid
contact, but this proved impossible. In the fullness of time, after clashes
with enemy patrols and many deaths among their pursuers, the three heroes
were cornered and forced to surrender on a promise that they would not be
slain out of hand. Finally they were led in chains into Urloch's richly
appointed throne room.

The soldiers paraded their prisoners across a long marble floor and
deposited their captives' weapons and gear at the feet of their Prophet and
Ruler then withdrew, leaving only their captain remaining to explain the
circumstances of their capture.

Urloch was a surprise. Not at all the man or the living fiend they expected
to meet. About thirty he was soberly dressed looking rather like a
barrister or a keeper of accounts, not the head of a great state and
religion. Aside from a dozen guards in half armor, a scribe and two
servants standing nearby, the Prophet met his "guests" by himself.

With a theatrical gesture the ruler lit a dozen candles in their sconces,
then smiled wryly and admitted:

"With my modest gifts of calling light and igniting flame, my little
demonstration is just about all I can do magically, though I can fling fire
at an attacker's face, so be warned."

"You are probably wondering why I had you, my would-be assassins, brought
before me. It is simple enough. I just could not resist the chance to
gloat. Balan, did you really think you could keep your mission a secret
from my spies in the Commonwealth? A strike against me was the obvious
follow-up to your recent spy mission. No surprise that you would be its
leader Balandur, being a Dread Hand of the Commonwealth and all that. I
don't know this gawky fellow with you. Why is he along? And why ever did
you drag a carpenter with you into this. As far as my spies could tell,
there is nothing special about young Arik."

"Now here you are and have seen with your own eyes the heart of my
power. It is an overwhelming complex of military, industrial, and economic
power inspired by a proselytizing religious faith. Mostly done without
magic on my part, just my own shrewd insight into character and
organization. Well my unlamented predecessor, the Dark Prophet as you call
him, did lay the foundation. He actually had a formidable magic, the power
of compulsion, which got this enterprise started and well along before I
took over more than a year ago. Alas he was no prophet, nor his god, the
so-called Adversary no more real than any of the other gods of Haven, or he
would have foreseen my coup against him."

"If such was his gift, why did he not compel your obedience or loyalty?"

"Because compulsion destroys initiative. As his vizier, he needed me to be
energetic and clever.  It was on my initiative that we dispatched that raid
on Elysion as well as the attempt to poison the druids. Anyway, your
mission is pointless, even if it succeeded. Killing me would not stop this
war any more than the death of the Dark Prophet did. The key religious
beliefs and state structures are now in place. If I fell, another leader or
leaders would take over. No, this juggernaut we have created now has a life
of its own and will not be so easily turned aside by killing a single
person."

"I should tell you that this throne room you are standing in is strictly
for ceremonial purposes. I actually work in an office beyond that
door. Still, there is a place for pomp and circumstance in running an
empire, which is why I have received you in this chamber. Yes, I said
empire even though I do not call myself an emperor. That title is so
shopworn. There have been so many emperors over the centuries, often with
the same name so they have to assign numbers to distinguish one from the
next. Absurd."

"I am unique and not really a human being despite outward appearances. I am
very likely the last life-leech anywhere on Haven. I can suck the vital
force from a young man to restore my own vitality. Understand, this power
is an innate part of my being, not a magical gift. I only wish I could use
it as a weapon, but it only works one on one and only when I need a
recharge, which happens about once a year. In this way I will stride down
the centuries forever. I am Urloch the Immortal, soon and forever
afterwards Ruler of the World."

"Give me ten years, maybe twenty and all sentients on this continent will
bow before me. In time the entirety of the planet will be mine. All will
serve me. All will exist to serve me."

"Is that all the rest of humanity and the other races are good for: to be
your servants? Did you never think they might want to serve their own
ends?. To choose those ends too?" Arik challenged.

"But my dear Arik, the common herd often chooses so badly, even against
their own long term interests. Here I am bringing this benighted land into
the modern world, creating a functioning state apparatus staffed by
competent administrators. I have suppressed inter-tribal warfare and blood
feuds, introduced new crops on the farms and sewerage and sanitation in the
newly built cities, and developed mining and manufactures. My regime
provides schools, roads, and bridges."

"Yes," Arik affirmed, "you do those things but for your own benefit not
theirs. Sewers and sanitation protect your workforce and military
recruitment base from water borne disease. New crops feed your professional
armies and legions of functionaries. Roads carry your armies to the borders
and beyond to wars of conquest. You spend the lives of the male in endless
wars. As for the women in your so-called modern state, even here in your
capital city, they are treated as brood mares and drudges without minds or
wills of their own. They suffer from the arbitrary authority of their
menfolk. I would hate for my sisters to share their unhappy lot."

"Anyway, Urloch. What would you get out of world conquest beyond pride of
ownership? You are already rich beyond the dreams of avarice. How much food
can you eat, how many more girls, or is it boys, would you take to your bed
were you the ruler of the world. Why not quit now? Be satisfied with what
you already have. Lift these barbarians up to a civilization worthy of the
name, not this sham of one you have created, nothing more than a
military-industrial-religious nexus for conquest."

"Ah the cry of the downtrodden down the ages. No vision to see beyond the
parochial and the immediate. As for me, it is not in my nature to be
satisfied with less than I can seize. You ask why not quit. That is getting
the question precisely backwards. Why should I quit?, I ask myself, and the
answer I give myself is that there is no reason I should. Instead I shall
push on and rule the entire planet, myself, alone, now and forever, world
without end, amen."

Arik shook his head:

"And that sort of selfishness is why I decided to give my life to stop you
and to save my homeland, my family and my friends, good people like Master
Justin and Count Klarendes and his lover Aodh, and to avenge my lover Ran
whom you murdered."

"Stoutly spoken, young Arik. though it was my predecessor who dispatched
the strike force to Elysion, admittedly at my suggestion. Their target was
Balan of course, not some no-account over-sexed elf-human hybrid. Maybe I
will have your defiant words inscribed on your gravestone, something for me
to look at from time to time as I contemplate eternity. Meanwhile in your
last few moments, look on my works, Arik and mighty Balandur, and despair
for your precious Commonwealth."

Rolf who had been silent up till then spoke up, interrupting the man's
gloating.

"Only a madman would seek to conquer a whole world. Only a fool would want
the burden of governing it. That is why you must be stopped. And we three
are here to do just that."

"Even a so-called immortal like a life-leech can die or rather be
killed. Know then that these are not only our own last moments but yours as
well. I will let you live just long enough to despair as you see all your
works crumble into dust.  I am afraid that for all of your dreams of
immortal glory, Urloch, 'Forever' will be a very short time indeed."

"Arik, the guards."

Arik reached out with his gift to Fetch poison arrowheads from the pouch
lying at Urloch's feet and sent them flying at the guards before they could
react. Like tiny black insects of death they flew down the length of the
room and into the faces and necks of the armed men. Most of them dropped to
the floor, their limbs quivering in a death rattle. Still, with so many
arrowheads to control and so many targets, it was no surprise that three
guards avoided Arik's attack. They drew their weapons and charged.

With a gesture, Rolf made their shackles rust through and fall away. Balan
grinned as Arik Threw a sword into his hand. He met the remaining guards
and cut them down.

"Nicely done." Urloch conceded, "but here in my throne room, I am prepared
for any contingency."

He started to call for help but before he could say anything the gangly
youth named Rolf raised his arms for dramatic effect and sent out a wave of
psychic power, careful to shield the four of them in the throne room from
its deadly effects. They came through unharmed, unaware that everyone else
in the castle had just died.

Worried at the strange sensation he had just felt and by the two servants
inexplicably fallen dead at his feet, Urloch called out in a strangled
voice:

"Archers!"

But no arrows shot from hidden slots in the walls to impale his enemies.

"Guards! Urloch called desperately, but no one rushed in with weapons
drawn. Rolf shook his head.

"No concealed archers behind the false wall, no squad of guards on call,
nor any reaction force to muster in support of them. There is no one to
succor you, Urloch. Every human being in the castle is dead except the four
of us in this room. Their deaths gave me the last increment of power I
needed to fuel my final strike. Look on your works, mighty Urloch and
despair as they crumble all around you."

With that Rolf released his final strike, a wave of death that spread
across the land, killing everyone and everything within half a day's ride
of the castle. They died in an instant, unknowing, without pain or fear,
dropping where they stood or sat or lay.

Very soon afterwards untended cook fires got loose and set the city of the
newly dead ablaze, turning it into a gigantic funeral pyre for its
populace.

Dahl and Merry witnessed all of it through Balan's and Rolf's eyes, for the
giant and the anti-druid were the very last to die.

Immediately afterward, over their psychic link, came a rebound of life
force from those whose lives Rolf's magic had extinguished. The surge was
not a harbinger of death but of new life. Dahl's and Merry's inherent
magics merged it, as he hoped it would, and transformed the unicorn back
into the lovely elf-boy he had once been --except with hair turned snow
white. This was Rolf's parting gift to his first love.

Merry ran his hands over his new body then held them out in front of him,
looking at them wonderingly, his face reflecting his utter astonishment at
his transformation back into an elf-boy. He opened and closed his fingers
experimentally then clenched them into fists and raised them over his head
shouting:

"Yes!"

Turning to Dahl he asked: <Did you know this would happen?>

"No, though Owain always hoped for something like this, to free the elf-boy
living within your unicorn body."

<I am so very glad. Thank you Rolf. Be happy wherever your spirit might
be>.

"I hope his spirit in now with those of Balan and Arik."

"Well said, Dahl. We all feel their loss, but they made the supreme
sacrifice so that others would live. As did Ran at the schoolhouse."

Then he looked over to Dahl and asked.

<I don't want to sound vain, but I am curious to see what I look like
now. If only we had a mirror.>

The young druid shook his head.

"Trust me, you are absolutely lovely, Merry. You are exactly the comely
elf-boy I always sensed living within your equine form. I don't know how to
describe you other than to say that you are so beautiful, I find myself as
much in love with your new form as with your old."

<So what happens now that I am an elf-boy once again.>

"Well for starters, you haven't realized it but you still have the power to
speak mind to mind. I think you likely retain your other magical gifts as
well. Well, maybe not that killer screech. Why don't you try calling a ball
of light and starting a fire."

Merry did both handily. Then he and Dahl grappled in a test of strength,
finding theirs matched pretty well.

"Now try making that shrub over there bloom out of season."

<But that is a task for a druid!>

"Try it anyway!"

Merry's pretty face scrunched up in an almost comical scowl as he
concentrated on the bush. To his astonishment its buds split open and grew
into bright yellow blossoms.

"You see. You absorbed some of my druidical magic as well. It is likely
that with some months of study at Owain's feet, you could become a druid in
your own right."

<Great, but what of us, Dahl.>

"Nothing is changed there, as far as I am concerned. I want the three of us
to continue to be lovers: you, me, and Owain. We shall be life-partners,
the three of us, living, learning, and loving together. And think of how
much could we can do together for Haven and its peoples. Are you with me?"

<Yes, Dahl, count on it. I am with you and with Owain, the three of us
together, now and forever after."

			Author's Note

If you have enjoyed this story and others like it, consider making a
donation to the Nifty Archive. It is so easy. They take credit cards.

This is my first pure fantasy tale for the Nifty Archive. It is entirely
fictional, with no resemblance intended to any person living or dead.

I decided to wind this tale up before I or my readers tired of it. I
sometimes wish certain professional authors, who shall remain nameless, had
refrained from extending a fantasy series to fourteen thick books. I mean,
enough already.

I am sorry that I had to kill off that lively elven poplet Randell to
provide Balan and Arik with a plausible motivation to sacrifice themselves
to rid their world of the tyrant Urloch. I liked Ran a whole hell of a
lot. It was not easy for me to write of his death. Sentimentalist that I
am, the tears in my eyes made it hard to see the computer screen. I
consoled myself with the thought that this fine boy would nevertheless live
on in fond memory.

I really like all my characters. The youngsters are good kids, one and
all. I think I might bring them back in a series of stand-alone tales,
something on the order of 'Elf-Boy's Friends' where a single character from
this novel becomes the protagonist of a particular story. We shall see if
inspiration strikes.

Readers who like these stories might want to try my two series 'Daphne Boy'
and 'Naked Prey' in the Gay/Historical section of the Archive. The newer
series 'Andrew Jackson High' relates the trials and tribulations of five of
its gay students. For links to these and other stories, look on the list of
Prolific Authors on the Archive.

Comments and feedback welcome.