The newborn's scream shattered the stillness of the night.
In tree houses and ground huts, the neighboring elves heard the cries of the
baby and took note with both joy and sadness in their hearts. They closed their
eyes and tried to return to sleep, but most of them lay awake with feelings of
shame and dread.
Not far from the newborn's home, King Saratoya sat up and
stared into the darkness. For several long minutes he listened to the cries of
the infant, and a bittersweet smile crept across his lips. The elven king
glanced out the window at the stars hanging in the inky black sky.
"A couple of hours before dawn," he murmured to
himself as he stood up and got dressed. "They could have timed that a bit
better."
The king sighed deeply, the burden of his office feeling
especially heavy as he remembered his joy at the birth of his own son. He shook
his head and left his sleeping quarters. Saratoya made his way to the eating
room and grabbed a piece of bread. He sat down quietly and listened to the faint
cries still coming from the nearby hut. As he listened, he heard soft footsteps
approaching. The king's face darkened and his posture stiffened as he realized
that his twenty-year-old son was approaching.
"So you heard it, too," the elven prince greeted
his father.
"As did everyone for quite a distance," King
Saratoya replied stoically. "The birth of an elf does not go
unnoticed."
"It might," Prince Elengal retorted hopefully.
"It just might."
"Do not start this again," scowled the king.
"You know the law."
"The law?" balked the prince. "It is not our
law. It is the empire's law."
"And we of the Elfwoods are subject to it," the
king countered firmly. "How many times must we have this
conversation?"
"As many times as it takes until you agree to act like
the king you are supposed to be," snapped Prince Elengal.
King Saratoya stiffened visibly and his hands curled into
fists, but he did not strike out at his son. For a brief moment, the two men
glared across the table at each other. Eventually, the king sighed and shook his
head.
"Sit down," he ordered authoritatively.
The prince hesitated only a moment before obeying his
father. He knew that he came dangerously close to crossing the line with his
comments, but he felt strongly that he was in the right.
"You have been a good son to me, Elengal," the
king said softly, "and you will make a fine king someday, but there are
some areas where you need refinement. Being a king means more than doing
whatever you want to. Sometimes it means doing things that you detest, but you
do whatever must be done to serve your people."
Prince Elengal began to glower at the coming lecture, and
the king reached across the table and grasped his son's hand.
"I know that we have talked about this before,"
the king continued, "but try actually listening to the thoughts behind my
words this time. You owe it to our people to understand how things are in
Elfwoods. Will you try to see things through my eyes?"
Prince Elengal felt his father's comforting grasp and knew
that the king was sincere in his desire, no matter how misguided he might be.
The prince's glower softened, and he nodded silently.
"Good," smiled the king. "I know that you
find the laws of the empire distasteful. We all do, but the repercussions for
violating them are severe. It is the law that we must give up each newborn to
the empire. Do you know why that is the law?"
"So the emperor can taunt us with his power," the
prince snapped a little too forcefully.
"He has no need to taunt us," the king replied
with a slight shaking of his head. "He takes our children so that we will
obey his laws and do his bidding."
"But why should we do his bidding?" retorted the
prince. "Why should we slave in the mines for an emperor who despises us
and steals our children?"
"Because if we don't," the king replied, "we
will all die. Do you really wish to bring about the extinction of the
elves?"
"Perhaps that would be better than being slaves,"
answered the prince.
"Would it?" retorted the king. "Ask that
question of a dwarf when next you see one."
"The dwarves are all dead," countered the prince,
"and good riddance to them."
"Indeed," nodded the king. "Good riddance to
them, but the point is, they are gone. It is easy enough for a young man to be
obstinate and bold such as you are, but what about the people we serve? Do all
of them agree with you? Are they all willing to die to satisfy your stubborn
pride? Will you be the type of ruler who can watch over their deaths without
shedding a tear?"
The prince fell silent with a confused look on his face. He
had not considered how the other elves might feel, and the king recognized his
son's hesitancy for what it was. He pushed onward.
"Are you willing to explain your defiance to a man
watching his wife die?" asked the king. "Or a woman watching her
brothers and sisters being sacrificed to make a political statement? Can you
truly be so heartless?"
"But we are slaves," the prince retorted with
less defiance than before.
"Quite true," the king agreed. "We are
slaves, and our masters are cruel, but unlike the dwarves, we still have life.
Our hopes for a better future are slim, but still we cherish those dreams. Do
not let your harsh reactions take away those small slivers of hope. They are all
that our people have to cling to."
The king squeezed his son's hand before withdrawing his own
hand. The prince looked up with teared eyes and nodded to his father.
"I do understand what you are trying to do for our
people," he said haltingly, "but I cannot see myself ever doing the
same. Half of the elven children taken from us never return."
"But the other half does," countered the king.
"We are told that those who do not return have chosen to remain among the
humans."
"And you believe them?" scowled the prince.
"I choose to believe them," the king replied.
"While I understand that the Baroukans may not be telling us the truth, I
would have a hard time coping with the misery the truth might bring me. So yes,
I believe their lies. The fact is, I am glad when a single one of our people
returns, for that is more than I expected from the empire."
"Perhaps I am not fit to be king then," Prince
Elengal declared. "I love you dearly, Father, and I know that you believe
that you are doing what is best, but I could never bring myself to give up our
children. I just could never do it."
"You can," the king smiled thinly, "and you
will. I understand the passions of youth. I once had them myself. You are a fine
man, Elengal, and the elves will be fortunate to have you on the throne someday,
but I advise you to walk softly and cautiously until that time. You have much to
learn yet."
The king rose and the prince quickly stood.
"Where are you going?" asked Prince Elengal.
"I am going to remind Befraya that her child must be
presented at dawn," stated the king. "Even as tired as she might be, I
thought she might want to stay up and at least enjoy a couple of hours with the
baby before it is taken from her."
"I will go," offered the prince. "If I am to
learn how the people feel about our current customs, I should start right
away."
The king's gaze narrowed slightly, and he remained silent
for a moment, as if he were weighing a mighty decision. Finally, he nodded.
"Very well," the king said softly, "but
remember our talk. There is much more involved here than a single child."
"I understand, Father," smiled the prince.
The king reached for a piece of paper as the prince left
the room and headed to a small hut not far away. Prince Elengal knocked lightly
on the door. Hushed voices drifted out the window, and a frown fell over the
prince's face. He raised his hand to knock again when the door opened a crack.
"Now is not a good time to visit," a man's voice
declared. "The baby has finally gotten back to sleep. Come back in the
morning."
"Morning is only two hours away, Lanole," Prince
Elengal stated as he peered through the crack. "I was just coming to remind
you to present the baby in the morning. Father thought you might want to stay
awake and enjoy whatever time you have."
"We'll do just that," the baby's father replied.
"I will talk to you later today, Elengal."
The door closed and the prince stared at it in surprise.
Lanole was only a few years older than the prince, and they had become fast
friends when Lanole returned from the empire. Something was amiss. They had
never had such a curt conversation before. Besides, it had appeared to the
prince that Lanole was fully dressed. The prince backed away from the hut in
confusion.
For several long minutes, the prince stood silently,
staring at the small hut. He heard the baby's murmurs as well as hushed
conversations. Nodding his head in understanding, Prince Elengal turned and
headed into the trees. Hiding in a thicket alongside the path, the prince
waited.
A few minutes later, Prince Elengal saw the couple
stealthily moving along the path. Befraya carried the baby, and Lanole carried a
heavy pack on his back. The prince stepped out of the thicket and blocked their
path.
"I thought you might be leaving before dawn," the
prince said accusingly. "You know that you are violating the law."
"What if we are?" Lanole retorted defiantly.
"I am not going to send my son to the emperor as I was sent by my parents.
Get out of our way."
"You can't do this, Lanole," countered Prince
Elengal. "I understand how you feel, but others will pay a heavy price for
your actions."
"You understand how I feel?" snarled Lanole.
"Don't make me laugh. You never had to be turned over to the empire. Oh,
no. You are the royal son after all. You are exempt from the law."
Prince Elengal was taken aback by his friend's comments.
While it was true that the royal family was exempt from that particular law, it
surely wasn't Elengal's fault that he had been allowed to stay in Elfwoods.
"I thought we were friends," the prince replied.
"Your tone to me is one of hatred."
"Not hatred," Lanole shook his head, "but
there is a certain irony that one so privileged as you would be the one to stand
in my way. You of all people should be helping us to escape."
"I wanted to," admitted the prince. "I just
argued with my father to let you hide the baby, but he is adamant. I think I
finally understand why."
"Well, good for you," scowled Lanole. "I am
sure you can accept the reasons given, as your child will also be exempt, as you
were. You and I used to talk about having a king with guts. Now you appear to be
following in your father's footsteps. I pity the people who will have to follow
you."
"That is harsh," frowned the prince. "And
unfair. You know that I hate the empire as much as you do."
"Hardly," snapped Lanole. "I spent twenty
years with them. You have only heard stories of the misery. I have lived
it."
"Help us," pleaded Befraya. "Help us escape
or get out of our way. I will not surrender my child to the empire. I would
rather die."
Prince Elengal turned to stare into the young woman's eyes.
She also had spent twenty years outside the bounds of Elfwoods. There was fear
in her eyes, and yet a glimmer of something else as well. It was hope, a hope
for a better future, and the king's words flashed through the prince's mind
again, although the meaning had changed slightly. The couple standing before the
prince had a glimmer of hope that they were clinging to. It was just such a
glimmer that the king had mentioned, and the prince could not bring himself to
crush it.
"Run hard and run fast," the prince said softly
as he stepped aside. "I will try to cover for you."
Befraya stepped close and kissed the prince for only a
moment before Lanole tugged her arm. Elengal watched the couple run through the
trees until they disappeared into the darkness.
Thoughts raced through the prince's mind as he turned and
headed back towards the village. One part of his mind hoped that the empire
would just not notice the absence of a pregnant elf, while the other
contemplated what he would say to his father. The latter thoughts sent a chill
up his spine, but he mentally vowed to be honest with his father.
Still, he was not anxious to rush back for the confrontation.
Prince Elengal walked slowly, meandering through the
village as the sky began to lighten. As he approached his father's home, he saw
the king standing in front of it. A quick glance at his father's eyes told the
prince that his secret was a secret no longer. He cast his eyes at the ground
before him as he walked towards his father.
"Tell me about it," the king said softly.
"I tried to stop them, Father," Prince Elengal
said. "Truly I did, but I am too weak. Both of them have known the horrors
of being taken away, and I do not. How could I argue when they said that they
preferred death to complying with the law?"
Prince Elengal expected his father to be furious, but the
king stretched out his hand and placed it comfortingly on the prince's shoulder.
Elengal looked up and saw a deep sadness in his father's eyes.
"It is important that you tried to stop them,"
King Saratoya said calmly. "While you may have been weak-willed this night,
that soon will pass. The important thing is that you learn what sacrifices must
be made to ensure your people's survival. You will learn that soon enough."
The prince's brow creased in confusion, and a cold dread
invaded his every pore. There was an ominous tone in his father's voice that he
had never heard before.
"Maybe the empire will not notice them gone,"
offered the prince.
"The emperor always knows more than we credit him with
knowing," the king replied with a shake of his head. "There will be a
heavy price to pay for the deeds of this morning, but perhaps that payment will
ensure the survival of our people for another generation."
The prince didn't understand his father's words, but he did
not have time to dwell upon them either. A loud commotion rippled through the
wakening village as the sun rose over the horizon. Elves rushed to the center of
the village as gray-clad soldiers entered from every direction. King Saratoya
marched dutifully to the village square, and Prince Elengal followed.
The soldiers halted as they formed a ring around the
village square. The ring opened briefly to admit a huge creature. The creature
was a thing of the deepest black, but its skin twinkled with reflected sunlight,
as would a shiny piece of coal. The creature was human, yet not human, for it
stood taller than any man, and its eyes were devoid of life.
King Saratoya immediately dropped to one knee and bowed his
head to the creature. Its head swiveled, taking in the rest of the gathered
villagers as if waiting for them to do the same. And do the same they did. One
by one the elves mimicked King Saratoya and dropped to a knee and bowed their
heads.
"The laws of the empire have been broken,"
bellowed K'san. "Bring forth the violators."
Prince Elengal glanced towards the commotion as a woman's
scream rent the air. King Saratoya rose and Prince Elengal followed suit. He
watched as soldiers shoved Lanole and Befraya roughly towards the square. Lanole
stumbled and fell, and two soldiers picked him up and propelled him forward. The
small procession halted directly in front of K'san. The elves all rose to their
feet to watch what would happen.
The beast's hand shot out with amazing speed and snatched
the baby from Befraya's arms. The young woman screamed in horror, but the
creature ignored her. It casually tossed the baby to a soldier.
"Befraya and Lanole have violated the laws of the
empire," the creature declared. "Who knows the penalty for this
crime?"
The entire village was frozen in silence. No one dared to
answer the question, and the creature merely smirked at their humiliation.
"The penalty," declared the beast, "is the
death of ten elven children in the custody of the empire. Can any of you deny
that?"
No one spoke.
"K'san," King Saratoya broke the silence,
"the young are often impetuous and foolhardy. As the sun has just broken
the horizon, and you have the baby in custody, no harm has really been
done."
The creature cocked its head and stared at the elven king.
"No harm?" it bellowed. "No harm? It is clear that the couple
sought to take what belongs to the empire. Further," K'san added as his
eyes pierced into Prince Elengal's eyes, "they had help."
Prince Elengal's blood chilled, and his throat swelled with
fear. Never in his lifetime had one of the K'sans appeared in the Elfwoods, but
he had heard stories about the creatures. He had dismissed those stories as
myths, even when his father had stated otherwise. The prince looked at his
father with a new profound respect. Suddenly the prince understood exactly why
the king had been acting the way he had, for the methods of King Saratoya were
the only ways of ensuring the survival of the elves.
"Who among you want to offer up your children in
payment for the crimes of Lanole and Befraya?" asked K'san.
Most of the couples in the village had children held by the
empire. Not surprisingly, no one volunteered, and the beast cackled.
"Then kill the criminals and their crime will be
punished," challenged K'san.
The villagers remained frozen, expressions of shock and
fear plastered on their faces. None of the elves wanted to kill the young
couple. After a few moments, K'san shrugged his shoulders as if the punishment
must be carried out with the deaths of elven children. Suddenly, an elven woman
screamed in anguish as she picked up a rock and threw it at Befraya. The rock
missed Befraya, but her action had broken the spell of indecision. Suddenly
dozens of rocks were sailing toward the criminals, and Lanole and Befraya cried
out in pain as the missiles struck their targets. Prince Elengal glanced at his
father and saw tears running down the king's face. He began to understand more
of his father's words of advice.
The stoning was over in mere moments. The crumpled and
bloodied bodies of the two young elves lay entangled in each other's arms. The
villagers bowed their heads, unwilling to gaze into the faces of their
neighbors, for they were ashamed to have placed their own children above their
neighbors. K'san smiled and nodded as he surveyed the crowd. He was pleased with
the results.
"There is still one matter to be resolved," K'san
said loudly. "Lanole and Befraya did not sneak out of the village without
someone knowing about it. That crime is punishable by death."
The creature stared at Prince Elengal again, and the prince
knew that somehow the creature was well aware of his actions. The prince had
made a fatal mistake in judgment, and one that his father had repeatedly warned
him about. Elengal's limbs shook with uncontrolled fear as he stepped forward
and opened his mouth to speak.
"K'san…" Prince Elengal began.
"Silence!" shouted King Saratoya as he whirled
and slapped the prince. "How many times have I told you not to interrupt
me?"
As Prince Elengal staggered backwards, King Saratoya
stepped before K'san.
"I gave the young couple permission to flee," the
king declared.
K'san frowned at the king and lifted his eyes to gaze at
the prince. Elengal's eyes were wide with shock, and the creature nodded
knowingly, but Saratoya was not done. He knew that the empire demanded a
demonstration to keep the next generation in line, but he would not let his son
be that example.
"Only through the guidance of the king will the elves
adhere to your laws," declared King Saratoya. "If I have strayed from
that guidance, then I am prepared to pay the price, for if it is not I who pays
the price, you will have no hold over my people."
K'san narrowed his eyes as he stared at the elven king. He
knew that it was Prince Elengal who had broken the law, but the king had just
thrown down the gauntlet. The message was clear: Spare my son, or I will lead my
people in revolt.
K'san looked once more at the elven prince and then his
eyes shifted back to the king. There was potential value to the king's offer.
K'san nodded slowly.
"So be it," he bellowed as his hand streaked out
and smashed into the king's chest. Ripping the king's heart from his body and
holding it up for all to see, K'san continued, "The elves are in need of a
new king. May the next one ensure that the elves obey the laws of the
empire."
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