No One's Chosen (31 page)

Read No One's Chosen Online

Authors: Randall Fitzgerald

Tags: #fantasy, #epic fantasy, #elves, #drow, #strong female lead, #character driven

BOOK: No One's Chosen
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Aile

Aile's eyes shot open at the first noise she heard,
but it wasn't the sound of a door opening or the scrape of steel
across her window or anything so ominous. It was morning, and the
summer songbirds were whistling their cloying tune. She almost
didn't believe it. Perhaps she'd been killed and this was some
horrible hell for people who hated the sun and songbirds. She moved
to rise from the bed and the pull of her leather against sore skin
told her that this was all too real.

She stood and stretched her aching limbs, looking
around the room. They had not come. It was rare that she misread a
group but if they were willing to ignore her, so much the better.
Even if they had just given her the night's rest, she would gladly
accept it. The rain had stopped and there were spots of sun shining
through the window. She hated mornings. Sunny mornings doubly
so.

Aile had no need to change, nor did she care to waste
the time. She gathered her packs and put them on, looking around to
ensure she had anything she needed from the room. The door pulled
free and the sounds of the main room of the inn came flooding in.
Breakfast, from the sounds of it. Clanking plates and chatter.

As she made the main room, she did not so much as
slow to address the innkeeper. The three from the night before were
there. The huge elf where he had been the night before as though he
were planted in the spot. The smaller male and his companion were
at the table across the room, still bantering as though they'd
never met. The woman's face was in plain sight now. Her features
were sharp and she watched Aile longer than she had cause to as the
Drow made for the door. She was being sized up. Aile knew the look
as she'd given it a thousand times, maybe more, though she did not
require near so long to get what she needed as she did when she was
younger. The muscled desert elf watched her the whole of the way
across the room. It did not matter, she figured. She knew what she
needed to know now. The three of them were together and likely held
to some code of honor if they had not attacked her in the
night.

Outside, she made for the horse covering as fast as
she could manage with the packs. She would have to wear them lest
the three corner her among the beasts. The tight quarters would be
dangerous enough against the giant beast of an elf that seemed to
like the look of her, but she figured one of them for an archer at
least. The girl's eyes suggested a scout's practice, likely her,
but the thinner man seemed capable enough himself. There would be
no escape. With that thought ringing in her brain, she did not move
to untie the horse from the hitch at which it stood. She pulled a
dagger and cut the reins loose and mounted the animal. It was still
saddled and there were three. They had meant to ride her down if
she fled, no doubt. They would be coming soon.

She mounted the mare she'd cut free and yanked the
reins to pull it around. Having pointed it in the right direction,
she dug her heels in and the horse exploded into a gallop. She had
made round the back of the inn and onto the main road from there.
She could not see if they had spotted her or the direction she rode
off into, but it was worth assuming they had. She rode the horse as
hard as she could but the animal was not well trained and the more
she pressed it, the more it meant to buck her away. She cursed her
mount, trying her best to keep control of it. The still muddy road
and the undisciplined beast were slowing her. At this rate they
would— she looked over her shoulder and saw it. Two black
silhouettes in the light of the morning.

"Worthless mule!" she cursed, kicking the horse with
all she had. For a moment, it leapt to a strong gallop. She was
gaining ground. It may have been too late already, but it would at
least give her a few more moments to figure how she would deal with
them. The horse slowed again just before losing its footing on the
wet clay of the road. The front end of the panting beast went down
spilling Aile hard onto the road. For a moment she was blind, face
to the ground under the shadow of the collapsing horse. She could
feel the gravel of the road grate on her skin.

She came to a stop, she did not know where or exactly
in what position. She did know that they would be on her in a
matter of seconds and she was not intent on being ridden down by
and overgrown oaf and his companions. She shoved her arms forward
and found ground beneath. A bit of luck, at least. She pushed
herself up, head still spinning from the impact. She could hear the
hoof beats. They were gaining too quickly. She threw her arms back
to loose herself of her packs. They splatted into the wet clay
beneath her and she brought her arms around to wipe her eyes. As
she reached to clear the mud and dirt from her face, she made for
what she imagined to be the wood. She hoped her ears could be
trusted, at the least. The whir of arrows and a pair of thumps
sounded wet into flesh beside her as she ran. The horse screamed
out and kicked, clacking and splashing in the gravel and mud. The
mud was cleared and she could see the road's edge. They were only
steps behind her as she hit the soft dirt of the road's shoulder
and pounded into the trees.

She ran for the depth of the wood as hard as she
could manage, patting the sheaths of her leathers as she ran. The
knives were all in their proper places, secure and ready for use if
a bit muddied. They might slip in her hand and she would need to be
ready. She plunged forward, the trees whipping by. She knew they
would be behind and she couldn't afford to look back. The trees
thinned ahead she could see. It would give her a chance to get her
bearings. She ran forward and stopped abruptly.

"Damn it all!"

The reason for the thinning trees made itself clear
to her. A river, ten yards wide and rushing with the rains of the
past days. She could not cross it, not fast enough. Aile felt the
giant elf as much as heard him. She spun to see him thudding toward
her, a mass of muscle. He had removed the linen shift that had
covered his chest in the inn and somehow it'd made him seem all the
larger. The muscular torso of the elf was a painting of scars, all
rough strokes and deeply cut. He bled from his shoulder even now.
Aile suspected he had caught a tree on his way to her. As he
entered the clearing ahead of the river, he pulled up to examine
her.

"Where are the others?" She had no interest in
waiting to see if he would attack, but it would not do to have an
arrow put through her while she dealt with this one.

"We have honor," he grunted and offered nothing more.
There was an irony to those words coming from a being more than a
foot taller than her and twice as wide. He wasn't the tallest elf
she'd ever put eyes to, but he was wider than most. Shoulders
broader than any thinking creature had a right to. There was no
grace in him, though. If he had ever been taught to fight properly,
it did not show in his movement.

Aile slid a dagger from the sheath at her back. It
was the largest she had and she would need every inch of it if the
poison she put to all her blades had been washed off in the mud. As
the blade slid clear and glinted in the sun, the massive elf
crouched and spread his arms wide as if he meant to catch her as
she ran by. The Drow did not move from her ground. His reach would
negate the bulk of her speed if she moved first. He would have to
come to her. His eyes locked onto her and he stood, waiting.

The sound of the wind in the trees and the rushing
water behind flowed into Aile's ears, but neither spoke or moved.
He was stupid— it was plain to her from the look of him— but he
knew his weakness well enough. She would have to coax him.

"It must've been hard on your mother, avoiding your
father's hooves while he flailed around inside her."

The large oaf raised an eyebrow. He had not
understood the implication.

Aile rolled her eyes and tried again. "Your mother
fucks horses," she said, cocking her head to the side as if to ask
if that were plain enough.

The brute's wheels were turning now. His breathing
intensified. Had that really been enough? Goddess be, she'd heard
the big ones were dumb but this was too much.

Face flushed red, the large elf bellowed a roar and
ran at her. He swung his massive arms at her, but he was slow, a
fact he'd forgotten. Aile flattened herself to the ground as his
arms swung over. The feet would not be far behind so she rolled to
the side, swinging her dagger with every piece of force she could
gather. It caught something on his leg, she hoped the tendons
behind his knee, but she would not be sure until she stood.

She heard the roar turn to a cry and pain and righted
herself as the great lummox thundered to the ground. Aile kept
still and silent, eyes locked on the great elf. He let go another
scream, deep and filled with rage. She had hit her target. The
desert elf pushed himself up from the ground. He meant to stand,
she could see. The leg she had not cut went under him first, then
the other. He put weight on it and there was a sickly snap, the
tearing of ligament and muscle. He screamed but forced himself to
his feet.

He spun to face her, blind with rage and hate.
"Goddess." It was all she could say. The leg should not have been
able to move, let alone bear weight. It was the muscle, she
realized. He was so covered with meat that even with the structure
of the joint destroyed he held it together with sheer bulk.

The wall of flesh lurched at her, this time more
slowly but with the same fearsome power. He set himself low this
time. Whether he meant it to counter her small size or if it was an
effect of the cut, she could not say. She leapt into the air with
tremendous force as he reached her. He flung his arms upward to
catch her but missed by less than an inch. She spun as best she
could and brought the dagger down into the middle of the back of
the charging elf. It parted the flesh above his ribs, clicking on
the bone and when it had cleared them ran down into the flesh. She
felt the dagger sink deep and tear muscle and organs as his
momentum pulled the blade across the length of his lower back. She
had to let it go there, lest she be dragged with it. She landed a
bit off balance but ready to move if she needed to. The great tan
beast sputtered to the dirt again, this time he was not quick to
try to rise. Aile had a moment and she would take it. She sprinted
at the hulking body, pulling a dagger. She ran up his lower body
onto his back. He roared as she did, spinning to swat at her as an
animal would a fly. The spin had been to her favor as she pulled
her feet upward from his back, hanging in the air above him and his
now exposed throat.

She swept the blade backward across the side of his
neck pulling apart meat and veins as it went. The blood sprayed as
if a fountain had exploded underneath her. It washed over her face
and clothes in a strong, thick stream. She had put herself off
balance to make the strike and fell to the ground awkwardly. Aile
righted herself as quickly as she could manage and kept low in case
he swung again. He did not. The blood was pouring from him in spite
of his efforts to cover the wound. The look in his eyes was
surprised and desperate. He had been cut, deeply even, but now he
could feel the life flowing from him and the fear rushed in to all
the places the blood was leaking out.

There was no time to watch. She pulled the blade from
the dying elf's back, turned, and made into the woods. The others
must have been watching. She did not know from where, but if she
could get ahead of them, she could make off with a horse and kill
the others in her own time. Her planning was cut short when the
root of a tree shot up from the ground and caught her foot. The
ground was soft, but not soft enough to keep the the breath in her
chest. She gasped, letting out a groan of pain. Her lungs did not
want to take air but she had to get up. Where had the root even
come from, she wondered? Looking down, she saw it move to cover her
leg. Aile yanked her foot toward her just in time to avoid the root
whipping down into the ground.

"Earth magic," she whispered, air filling her lungs
again.

"That it is." The slim elf from the inn stepped from
behind a nearby tree holding a rapier. He was more well covered
than his large friend, she could see plainly. Aile made it to her
feet and took stock of her enemy. He looked well-bred. Handsome
with stubble framing his square jaw. His lower body did not appear
to be armored at all, in contrast to the gorget and cuirass
covering his chest and neck. Underneath he wore a padded doublet of
green and gold check.

"Let me leave and I will not kill you." It was only
half a lie. He was not likely to let her leave even if it were the
whole truth. She had killed his compatriot and the giant elf had
said there was honor in them. A troublesome trait.

"I'm afraid I have given my word that you will
die."

"In exchange for coin?" Plants rustled at Aile's
feet.

"Indeed. And you've slain my friend. It wouldn't
serve to let you go without attempting to avenge him."

"As you say, elf." Aile lunged forward just as a
hammer of roots and dirt shot at her foot.

The trap flew through the place she had just stood
and the thin elf fell into a brisk retreat. He made a shape with
his hands, grunted, and flung his arms upward. Aile stopped where
she stood, a flurry of dirt and debris flying up in front of her
face. She hopped back a step, expecting a cut to come through the
dust. Her opponent did not disappoint, lunging through and hitting
nothing but air. She understood his armoring now. He had only the
barest grasp of dirt magic but it likely proved enough to trip up
most foes with little trouble. The ground could be manipulated so
he had no good reason to armor the legs. This left him free to keep
his speed and armor the chest. It was a formidable combination even
if the magic was crude. Footwork was nearly everything in a fight
with that sort of range.

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