23

Elven Prisoner

The crew settled as comfortably as they could into the packed living room of their host family's house.

It wasn't that the Brewer's accommodations were necessarily small, but more the fact that there were so many of them in the space. Tory and Gorplin fought over a small couch in the corner, while Ealrin and Holve settled themselves at a small table with two chairs that was pushed against a wall. Felicia propped herself up against the wall and Urt set cross-legged on top of a coffee crate. Jurgon and Jurrin were rapidly catching up with one another as they sat down on a rug. They had been separated for the longest period in their entire lives.

Blume went off to help out with the baby, who was crying for one reason or another, and was upstairs with the Mrs. Brewer.

The house was mostly stone, the most available resource in the area, with a few wood furnishings here and there. The couch was the only such piece of furniture in the entire room. Even though it was ancient and threadbare, Tory and Gorplin swore there was no other more comfortable place to sit.

Everyone had a steaming a mug of coffee out in front of them and the aroma filled the room.

Ealrin was glad for the drink. Lily, the Brewer's baby, had been up late again last night. He was low on sleep. The gathering was cheering him up, however. No matter how cramped the house got, he was glad to have these companions back.

A single window was open, letting in the early afternoon light as Holve cleared his throat, calling for order.

"I take it you found something worth telling about," he said looking over at Felicia and taking a sip from his steaming mug.

"Yeah, but it took two months," Tory interjected, drawing a glare from Holve that shut him up.

"Aye," Felicia said with a look of annoyance on her face. "Tory is right. It did take several months for us to find any thing of interest. We didn't uncover any stories or local legends about trees or anything that came even close to a tree. Lots of stories about sailing and the three Nobles of Darrion."

She sniffed the contents of her mug and turned up her nose at it.

"They have any sugar?" She asked.

Jurrin hurried up off the rug to go and fetch her some.

"A week ago we were sailing up to Bestone and found it near burned to the ground. We didn't even have time to get a good look at the place before pirates attacked us. We made it out of there by the skin of our teeth and took two with us as prisoner. One of them got sick right afterwards. His fever took him and there wasn't a thing we could have done to help. Probably did more than his old buddies would have, at least."

Holve looked at her inquisitively.

"The city was burned?" he asked.

"That's not the strangest part," Felicia said, accepting the spoon and container of sugar from Jurrin and adding some to her mug. "Whoever did it didn't bother to take a single thing from the city. It looked like they just came to burn the place down and left all the loot."

"Have you reported any of this to the nobles?" Holve asked.

Ealrin knew that Holve had wanted to keep as good of a relationship with the nobles of Darrion as they could by informing them of this.

"Sent a message on to them as soon as we got to port," Felicia said, taking a sip of her coffee and, by the look on her face, appreciating the new sweetness.

"Looked like they were pretty busy though. They might not get our message for some time," she said as she smacked her lips. "The port's filled to the brim with those ships. Where are they from?"

"Down south," Holve answered. "Elves from the Empire of Enoth. According to the books in the library, they're the oldest nation on Irradan and take up a considerable part of the southern continent."

"Bah," Gorplin said, gnawing on some hard bread. "Seem like a bunch of pampered brats to my eyes."

Holve ignored him.

"I'll make sure the message gets through. Now what about these pirates?"

"Urt here tried to get as much information as we could from the remaining prisoner," Felicia said pointing over to her first mate.

Holve look over at her and raised an eyebrow.

The skirlx just shook his head.

"Apparently he's not willing to talk," Felicia added.

Ealrin sat back in his chair and sipped on his coffee.

Pirates in the waters to the east. A city burned to the ground but not looted. Elves from the south make an appearance in Darrion. Wrents outside the city gates.

It seemed like the continent of Irradan was beginning to offer up more questions than answers.

Before anyone else could add to the conversation, a herald was heard in the streets. This wasn't terribly unusual. Since Lone Peak was a city of so many levels, it was hard for news to travel from the House of Nobles down to the lower parts. Professional heralds would walk the streets, clad in the traditional colors of the leading Noble House and give their message at several intervals.

Ealrin lifted himself up out of his chair and went to the window to listen.

“Hear ye, capital of Darrion! On the first day of the week, two hours before midday, a speech will be made in the amphitheater by His Excellency, Rophilborn the Eternal, Emperor of Enoth. Attendance is mandatory for all citizens! Hear ye, capital of Darrion!”

A speech from the Emperor himself?

Ealrin wondered what that might be about.

The herald's voice floated in through the open window repeating the message over and over again with the date and time of the speech before fading into the general sounds of a normal day in the lower levels.

"What do you reckon we can find out about those elves in a week?” Gorplin asked with the scowl on his face.

"Not nearly enough, I doubt," Tory said.

As sour and argumentative as Tory normally was, Ealrin couldn't help but agree with him just a little.

"Let's go have another conversation with our new pirate friend," Holve said as he drained the last of his coffee and set it down on the table.

“Should we get Miss Blume, sir?” Jurrin asked as he and Jurgon rose up from their cross-legged position on the rug.

An unusually loud cry from Lily came from above them and Felicia rubbed her temples.

“Best leave her to the work at hand,” Holve replied, with a small wink at Ealrin.

With that, their meeting was over. The companions began making their way through the streets of Lone Peak, following the herald as he shouted his message for all to hear.

The ports were a flurry of activity. The elven vessels had dropped off their crews some miles away so the army could march up to Lone Peak impressively. Now the ships were unpacking in full force.

Huge white vessels with purple sails and gold inlaid into beautiful runes lined the docks.

It took much longer than normal to navigate the docks. Elves were running in all directions, seeking to obey the orders of their officers. The usual dock workers and fishermen had their normal routines demolished by the arrival of such a force and seemed to be in a generally grumpy mood. Some were cursing at their bad luck.

Ealrin saw two Darrion boats laden with fish but with no where to unload their cargo. Their two captains were cursing at each other as well as the overwhelmed port master who was trying to direct them down to a further spot to make port.

Curious citizens of Darrion made everything more difficult by standing and gawking at the sight.

Once Ealrin and company arrived at their vessel, the crew made their way down below deck to where the prisoner was being held.

Ealrin had to appreciate that it didn't seem like the rogue elf was being mistreated. He was being kept in one of the smaller rooms, Felicia explained, but not in the stocks that the pirate ship they had commissioned provided.

Urt retrieved the key and inserted it into a keyhole towards the top half of the door. This allowed a small space, no bigger than Ealrin's palm to swing forward. The hallway outside the door was cramped with all the people inside of it. Holve ordered up Jurrin and Jurgon as well as Tory and Gorplin since three of them already knew the story of the elf and the other could get filled in along the way.

He made his way forward and peered into the opening.

Ealrin could see that the elf had not tried to escape, nor had he struggled much against his bonds: light shackles held his wrists together. He sat rather relaxed in a simple wooden chair next to a set of bunks. Ealrin glanced in just long enough to see the elf had a defiantly resigned look on his face.

His hair was white, though he didn't seem like an elder, and had pronounced features. Unlike most of his race, whose skin was typically pale and white, the sun tanned his a light golden brown.

The most striking feature about him was his stunningly blue eyes. The elf just sat there, not acknowledging them in the least.

"So I hear you and your mates decided they wanted to attack my captain's boat," Holve started off, nudging Ealrin out of the way so that he could speak to him clearly.

Silence.

"That's about as much as we got out of both of them," Felicia said as Holve looked over at her. "Not a very talkative prisoner."

He looked from Ealrin to Felicia and back again.

"What do you think we should do with them?"

It was the second time Holve has asked Ealrin his opinion on someone they had captured. The first time, Ealrin had prescribed a light sentence to repay for the trouble of stealing a simple locket.

This time, however, he was not the one who had apprehended the villain, but he did have an idea anyways.

"Did you know there a lot of elves up at Lone Peak right now?" Ealrin asked, nudging Holve over in order to speak directly to the elf. "I wonder if the Empire of Enoth would have anything to say about you raiding boats and burning down cities?"

"We didn't burn anything," the elf said, taking everyone by surprise. "And we don't have much to do with any of the other land dwelling elves around."

With that, he closed his eyes and reclined against the wall. But his face was slightly less defiant.

"Must've hit a nerve, Ealrin," said Holve sideways to him.

He turned his attention back to the elf inside the cabin and Ealrin stepped out of the way.

"We'll see if we might be able to change your mind about that," the older man said before shutting the opening himself and motioning for Urt to lock it.

They all returned to the top deck and saw that the suns were setting.

"What do you make of that?" Felicia asked the crew at large.

"I say give him a rowboat and watch him sail over the horizon," Tory suggested.

No one paid his response any attention.

"He doesn't seem to like the other elves," Ealrin said. "I wonder if we could get them to help us make him talk?"

Holve sighed as he looked up the cliffs at the still bustling city.

"I don't have any better ideas," he said. "Get him something to eat. We'll be back for him in the morning."

"Bah. And what about our supper?" Gorplin asked, impatiently.

"Should be ready for us by the time I get back up to the house, sir" Jurrin replied. "I saw Mrs. Brewer working on something over the stove as we left."

Leave it to the halfling to notice the food, Ealrin thought.

He and the crew headed back for the small house. Ealrin was sure that they would be able to get some information out of the elf tomorrow with the help of the new visitors.

What he wasn't sure of was what exactly they would find out. The connection between this pirate and the other elves intrigued him.

Maybe there's a connection that they, being strangers to this land, hadn't quite put together yet.

Through a flurry of activity and bustling all around them, the crew slowly made their way back through the busy port and up the steps to the first lower level.

Tory was just getting started complaining about climbing stairs all day long, when a flash of white raced past them.

It was enough to cause them to turn their leisurely pace into a run.

Holve cursed and began climbing the stone stairs furiously.

Their prisoner had escaped.