The Elf-Queen's Bounty

Joshua Calkins-Treworgy

A Novel of Tamalaria

BooksForABuck.com

2010

The Elf-Queen's Bounty

(Free Excerpt only)

Copyright 2010 by Joshua Calkins-Treworgy, all rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated, transmitted, or stored in any form without the express written permission of the publisher.

Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and locations are fictitious or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or people is coincidental.

BooksForABuck.com

November 2010

ISBN: 978-1-60215-134-5

Prologue

The city of Whitewood, capital of the Elven Kingdom, sat peacefully and quietly under a blanket of darkened sky, the moon providing only a vague glimmer of lunar light on the city below. With most of its residents able to see quite well in the dark, a natural ability for the Elven people, torches and street lamps were left doused on most nights where the moon provided light to the city. For this night, several would regret this custom, in the long run.

Atop one of the city's Historical Society buildings, a pair of crouched figures crept toward the squat block atop the building that opened on the stairwell leading inside. Wrapped in dark green tunics and with their weapons tucked in soft, black leather sheathes, the shorter of the figures reached into a compartment on his deep, cerulean-shaded belt, and withdrew several blackened steel instruments. The taller, more slender man remained crouched a few feet away, scanning the surrounding rooftops for anyone who might be looking at their activities from the distance.

"All clear," he whispered to the shorter figure, who had already started manipulating his tools on the lock of the door to the stairwell. The tall man in the green tunics took a deep breath, enjoying the odors of the forest that surrounded the city. I almost miss this scent, he thought.

After a few minutes, the shorter man finished his work and eased the door open on its hinges.

No sound issued from the iron fittings, and moving in a half-crouch, the two men entered the Historical Society building. Silence filled the stairwell as they entered in plush cotton shoes, specially fitted for such work as theirs.

Down two flights of stairs they slunk, neither man making a sound. Deep, regulated breaths inflated and deflated their lungs, their nerves undeterred by the work at hand. On the second lower landing from the roof, the taller man once more deferred to the little fellow, who cracked the door on the landing open a few inches, and removed another tool from his belt. The tool appeared to be a thin, jointed pole of steel with a tiny mirror attached at an angle.

"What the devil's that for," the tall man whispered.

"Checking for guards around the bend," answered the short fellow. His voice was high and nasal, but kept low so that it only carried between the two burglars. The shorter man angled the pole into the barely opened doorway and peered at the mirror. After a moment, he pulled it away, and tucked it away. He looked up at the tall man, and made a series of hand signals. He put two fingers to his eyes, then made a hooking sign. Then, he held up two fingers again, this time in front of his chest, and made a flat hand with his palm up toward the ceiling.

Having spent plenty of time in the military, the taller fellow, an Elf who was very familiar with the city of Whitewood, nodded. He mentally translated the signals in his mind: I see two men, facing away from us.

Finally, the smaller fellow, a Human, made a little walking motion with his fingers, and then held up eight fingers.

Eight feet from the door, the Elf thought. Facing away, good. He nodded to the shorter fellow, and the two of them pulled the door open silently, and moved out into the corridor beyond.

The mixed scents of dust and aged parchment filled their nostrils as they crept into the hallway. No torches were lit here, and to the right of the door, down near the bend in the hall, stood two young Elven men in military uniforms. They faced away from the intruders, and could be vaguely heard whispering with one another.

Hmm, the Elven intruder thought, the uniforms haven't changed much from my time. His heart began drumming just a little harder in his chest as he drew a long knife from his leather sheath, moving on bent legs toward the building's guards. They wouldn't be the only ones on duty, but the Elf and Human breaking into the building only had business here, on the fifth floor.

The Elven intruder, decked out in his dark green garb, blended almost seamlessly with the darkness of the corridor. Across the hall now from him, moving in the same crouch, the Human intruder drew his weapon as well. Both weapons were made of tempered black steel, the only reflective surface being the honed edges of the knives. With only an occasional window letting in lunar light, the two burglars were all but invisible as they crept up on the two young Elven guards.

"Don't worry about it too much, Sam," one of the guards said to the other, neither man aware in the slightest of their near fate. "You have to give these things time to develop on their own."

"Yeah, easy for you to say," the other guard replied. "You've already gone through the whole mess. I'm just afraid my parents are going to do something to completely embarrass me."

The conversation might have gone on like this all night, but the intruders chose that moment to make their move. The Elven intruder swung one hand around the older guard's mouth and rammed his long knife home into the guard's kidney, pain exploding in a firestorm through the guard's lower body as waste product and blood flooded his body and the floor of the hallway.

The Human intruder made his own strike much quicker and deadlier, pushing the younger guard's head forward as he ripped his long knife along the man's throat. From years of practice, the Human intruder had learned that pulling a man's head back before slashing the throat actually striates the muscles in the throat. That, in turn, requires a deeper, stronger slash of the throat, and the Human intruder knew he wasn't very strong, physically speaking.

Blood spewed from the younger guard's throat, and his hands flew to his lacerated neck, clawing and grappling with his wet flesh as he dropped to his knees, his field of vision blurring swiftly. He'd planned a wedding for this upcoming weekend, his own in fact. Until a few moments ago, his biggest concern had been what his parents might do to embarrass him at the rehearsal dinner. Now, his biggest concern was trying to get fresh oxygen to his lungs and brain through the ragged tear in his throat.

The other guard, older by three years, had lost all of the strength in his arms and legs, and was going limp as the Elven intruder's long knife struck home a fifth time. The first two stabs had gone to one kidney, the third and fourth into the other kidney, and the fifth and final stab hit him in the right lung.

Losing blood onto the hardwood floor at a pace that rivaled running tap water, the older guard fell forward onto his face, his life flashing before his eyes. His childhood, his adolescence, and finally, his young manhood, all blurring past as Death hovered near, waiting for the very last moment. His dying thoughts were of his wife and the child she carried for the last four months. Who would guide their son now, he wondered?

Both intruders had used their free hands to grab the collar of each guards' upper tunic, guiding them slowly, soundlessly to the floor to die. The deed done, they sheathed their weapons, and darted around the corner the guards had posted themselves at, moving silently and stealthily.

In the northern corridor, guided by the blueprints of the building that the Human had stolen from the Tax and Excise office, both intruders halted before a sealed door. Using the keys lifted off of one of the dead guards, the Human cycled through the keys until he got the one that opened the sealed door, and popped the lock.

The chamber on the other side of the door held various weapons, armors, shields and other artifacts that had long since been named national treasures of the Elven Kingdom.

"You know what to do," the Elven intruder said.

The Human smiled broadly, his rat-like face wrinkling at the corners of his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I've got the picture. How many should I take?"

"Pick a number between three and ten," the Elven intruder said, his eyes sweeping over the walls and the pegs that held the various collected items. There, on the left wall, the Elf spotted a bow with a plaque beneath it. The name on the plaque, and the bow itself, sent sparks lighting through his mind. He knew that name, he knew that weapon. A hatred that had been forgotten for years rose from its mental grave, filling his mind entirely. He crossed the short distance to the wall, and his eyes widened at the description beneath the name of the bow's owner. "Councilor? He's a Councilor now? Since when does the Elven Kingdom allow Cuyotai to be Councilors? No, this won't do," the Elven intruder growled mostly to himself, taking the bow down from the wall and feeling the magic of the weapon flow through his fingers.

"What you got there, boss," the Human asked.

"Something I should have taken from a dead man a long time ago," the Elven intruder said, looping the bow over his shoulders. "Come on, our work here is done, Sean." The Elf headed out of the room and back into the corridor.

The Human followed after stuffing a few more artifacts into his rucksack, and they moved back toward the stairwell. As the two men passed by the dead guards, the Elven intruder looked down at his racial kinsmen. "Sorry, kid," he whispered. "Sometimes, shit happens."

Atop the building, the Human prepared the rappelling equipment on the edge of the building, and looked up at his employer. The Elven man had insisted upon coming along himself, instead of sending any of the Human's three younger brothers. Sean Browler, the Human intruder, wondered how his brothers were holding up at the moment, serving as distractions for the other guards throughout the city of Whitewood. He checked his wrist timepiece, and estimated that they had about another ten minutes before his brothers retreated to the rendezvous point, where the five of them, four Browler brothers and their employer, would then further retreat on horseback to their hideout.

"Tell me something," Sean Browler asked of his employer as the Elven man secured his rappel line. "Why are you doing this?"

"Even though it's none of your business, Mr. Browler, I'll indulge your curiosity," the Elven man said with a glib grin. "I am doing this in order to secure the interests of a former compatriot, a man who knows how things are supposed to be in the Elven Kingdom," the Elven man said.

"So you've been hired by someone else too?"

"Yes, in a manner of speaking," the Elf said. "You see, I used to be a major in the Elven Kingdom's military. By helping my, er, friend, accomplish his task, I will be securing my return to the kingdom. He shall grant me a pardon for my previous offense."

"The one that got you booted from the area, you mean," the Human asked as they began their descent.

"Yes," the Elven man said. "With my help, this friend of mine shall be able to move into a position of high authority. At that time, I shall be reinstated into the military forces. Yes, Mr. Browler, I shall once again be James Svelk, major of the Elven armies."

"So the weapons and artifacts, they really were just a cover for that other building we hit up," the Human asked.

"Indeed, Mr. Browler," Svelk said as his feet touched the floor of the alley between the Historical Society building and the neighboring apartment building. "Now let's get the hells out of here before we're spotted."

Without another word or noise, the two intruders made their way through the alleys and streets, and out into the woods. There they met up with the other Browler brothers and their horses, and they rode slowly off toward the kingdom's borders, away from the scene of their crimes.

The bodies of the two guards wouldn't be discovered until the next day.

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