Eaglethorpe Buxton and the Elven Princess (8 page)

“All the important details will come out in
the trial,” he replied. “Our only purpose at this moment is to
introduce ourselves. I am King Jholhard and I will act as your
judge.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” I sighed. “I know
that I will be treated fairly by Jholiera’s father.”

“This is Iidreiion, Jholiera’s betrothed,
who will act as the prosecutor.”

I didn’t know what to say to this fellow. I
looked into his face and didn’t see any obvious malice. Maybe he
would simply present the facts as known. I certainly hoped he was
dedicated to the truth and not to seeking out a conviction at any
cost as is so often the case in human societies.

“And this is Iidreiior and he will act as
your defense counsel.”

“I am very pleased to meet…” I stopped and
looked from my defense counselor to the prosecutor, back to my
defense counselor, back to the prosecutor, back to the defense
counselor, back to the prosecutor. They looked exactly the same.
They were twins.

“Um, well when is my trial to begin?” I
asked.

“In one hour,” replied the king. “You should
take your rest until then.”

I was not going to rest until then. I defy
anyone to “rest until then” in a similar situation. Try this with
someone you know. Tell them “I’m going to tell you something that
will change your life in one hour. Rest until then.” See if they
rest. Or tell them “In one hour you will find out if you live or
die. Rest until then.” I will wager that they won’t rest. Or tell
them “In one hour I’m going to give you a pie. Then don’t give them
a pie.” They won’t rest. That may not be exactly the same, but they
won’t rest. Watch and see.

“What are you doing now?” asked the
king.

“I’m pondering the future.”

“Such as it is,” he said, nodding sagely.
Then the three walked away, leaving me to my own thoughts.

An hour later I was marched out of my cell
and taken to an open glade within the wood. This space had
obviously been used as a ceremonial center for many years. Covered
areas had been built for spectators as well as individuals involved
in whatever ordinance was being performed. The awnings were made of
wood, but they were covered with many layers of vines, while here
and there trees grew up through them. Most of the seats were
intricately carved of stone and had been worn very smooth by
extended use. I was led to a spot on one side, where Iidreiior
waited. On the other side of the glade, stood his twin.

A few minutes after I arrived, a whole crowd
of elves began filing into the open forest area. There must have
been about two hundred of them. Though I carefully watched for her,
Jholiera was nowhere to be seen. At last King Jholhard appeared and
took his place in a stone chair raised only slightly higher than
the others.

“What is the charge?” asked the king without
any preamble.

“The prisoner is charged with the abduction
of a princess of the royal blood,” said Iidreiion.

“How does he plead?”

“Guilty,” said Iidreiior.

“What? Wait.”

“After having weighed all the important
details,” said the king, placing far too much emphasis on the word
important for my liking. “The prisoner is hereby found guilty as
charged.”
“What? Wait.”

“Recommended sentence?”

“Death,” said Iidreiion.

“Agreed,” said Iidreiior.

“What? Wait. What kind of trial is this?” I
demanded accusingly, my back straight, but without my arm being
outstretched, as it was still tied to the other arm.

“It is a show trial,” said the king. “It is
called a show trial because it is only for show. There is no real
justice involved.”

“I know what a show trial is,” said I. “I’ve
been in enough of them.”

The two hundred or so elves in attendance
watched mutely as I was dragged back to the cell in the cave and
left there once again. All in all, it was hardly worth being
dragged to the glade in the first place. They could just as easily
have told me I was guilty and condemned to death right there.
Sitting down, I leaned against the wall of the cave and winced as
my back came into contact with the stone. After a few minutes the
king appeared outside the bars.

“Why bother with a show trial that lasts
three minutes?” I wondered.

“As I said, it is for show,” he said.

“But why? I never kidnapped your daughter. I
was helping her come home.”

“Yes I know. It’s her punishment. She needs
to learn that she can’t run off. There are consequences. Your trial
and your execution tomorrow morning will remind her of that
fact.”

“You’re going to execute an innocent man to
make a point to your daughter?”

“It’s not as though you were an elf,” he
said. “You’re only human.”

I was given another bowl of the delicious
mush, which I ate, this time with more difficulty because my back
really ached when I bent over to eat like a dog. I certainly didn’t
sleep though. Oh you can be sure of that. I didn’t sleep. Knowing
that you are going on trial in one hour is not nearly the cure for
sleepiness that knowing you are to be executed in the morning
is.

“Eaglethorpe,” a voice called.

I turned to see Jholiera bathed in the light
of the setting sun as it diffused through the trees. She was no
longer dressed as a boy. She had on a leather dress cut in an elven
style with a leaf motif carved into it. It left her shoulders bare
and though her form was slight, there was no longer any question
that she was a young woman. She had golden jewelry on her arms and
a delicate golden crown on her head.

“Eaglethorpe, how are you?”

“I’ve a pretty nasty stab wound in my back,
and my arms are aching from them being tied behind me. I think I
skinned my knee when I was trying to eat from a bowl like a dog,
but there’s no way to check. Oh yes, and they are going to kill me
in a few hours. Other than that, I’m fine.”

“Come here, close to the bars.”

I did as directed and she reached through
the bars and cut the bands that were holding my wrists together. My
muscles cried out as blood rushed back into them, and a shooting
pain went from my back straight into my heart.

“I think I shall die before they have a
chance to kill me,” said I. “Serves them right.”

“Don’t say that. I’m going to get you out of
here.”

“How?”

“I’ll be back after midnight. In the
meantime, try to get some rest.”

“You have no idea, girl,” said I, as she
went off into the trees.

Remarkably I did sleep this time. I must
have. I don’t remember falling asleep or even sitting down. But
when I was awakened by small pebbles hitting against my face, I
found myself sitting against the wall of the cave.

“Ow! Stop it,” said I, as one of the small
pebbles hit me in the eye.

“Quiet you,” said Jholiera. “I’m almost
ready to rescue you. Get over here and wait by the cell door. You
have to be ready at a moment’s notice.”

“Why aren’t you rescuing me now?”

“I don’t have the key yet.”

“You don’t have the key?”

“Calm down. I’ll be back in a few
minutes.”

She did return, but it wasn’t in a few
minutes. It was quite a bit later. In fact, by the time she did
return, I was beginning to fear that the first rays of predawn
light might make escape impossible. But when she arrived, Jholiera
did have the key. She quickly opened the cell door, and taking me
by the hand, led me through a maze of trees. We hurried around
massive trunks and over fallen logs, through curtains of trailing
vines, until we came to another small glade. Here was my beautiful
steed, which is to say Hysteria.

I can tell you I had a hard time saddling my
horse due to my injury. But with the elven princess’s help, the
deed was soon done. As I prepared to mount, Jholiera stopped
me.

“Thank you Eaglethorpe,” she said, and gave
me a tender kiss on the cheek.

“You are coming with me, aren’t you?” I
asked. “You can’t live with such a horrible father, or marry such a
horrible husband.”

“Don’t worry. My father is not so bad. And
Iidreiion probably won’t want to marry me anyway after he finds out
what I had to do to get the key away from his cousin. Besides, I’ve
had enough adventuring for now. I just want to stay home and be
safe.”

With that she gave me an even tenderer kiss
on the cheek. I climbed into my saddle and took off through the
woods, just as the early dawn was beginning to break. And I never
saw the little elven princess again.

Three years after the events in this tale, I
was sitting beside the fireplace in the Singing Siren Tavern in the
city of Antriador, having just finished telling the tale of
Eaglethorpe Buxton and the Elven Princess, when I heard a voice
calling out. “Gah! You are the worst story-teller ever!”

It was Jholiera. She was no longer dressed
as an orphan boy. Nor was she clad in her leather elven-style
princess dress with a leaf motif carved into it, and lots of gold
jewelry. She was dressed as a traveling warrior, with armor
carefully tailored to her short and feminine form, and a sword on
her back that was nearly as large as she was. Her golden hair, now
almost reaching her waist, was styled into dozens of thin braids,
each adorned with beads of bone and ivory. She threw her arms
around me and pulled me close in a tight embrace, then released me
before continuing.

“You are the worst story-teller ever. None
of that was right—the pies, the goblins, the elves. None of it
happened that way at all. Only that bit in the Inn with Ellwood
Cyrene was remotely true. And I most certainly did not kiss you.
Not even once.”

“A little romance makes for a better story,”
said I.

“I’m surprised you didn’t have me throw
myself at you.”

“I had to keep it proper,” said I. “You were
dressed as a boy most of the story.”

“Come here, you great fool,” she said, and
taking my face in her small hands, she pulled me down to her eye
level and kissed me, this time deeply, on the lips, and with great
passion. It was such a shock that for a moment I couldn’t
speak.

“What are you doing now?” she asked.

“I am pondering a new ending to the
story.”

“You’re not thinking of making up an ending
where I show up in a tavern dressed as a warrior and, taking your
face in my small hands, I pull you down to eye level and kiss you,
this time deeply, on the lips, and with great passion, are
you?”

“Of course not,” said I. “Perish the
thought.”

THE END

Wesley Allison (seen here with Cissy the
Iguana) lives in Henderson, Nevada with his wife Victoria, daughter
Rebecca, and his son John. He has taught English and History at B.
Mahlon Brown Junior High School for fourteen years. Eaglethorpe
Buxton and the Elven Princess is his sixth novel.

Mike Smith's life was crap, living all
alone, years after his wife had died and his children had grown up
and moved away. Then he saw the commercial for the Daffodil. Far
more than other robots, the Daffodil could become anything and
everything he wanted it to be. M
ike's life is about to change.