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“Ride on and defeat the elf troops while I keep the mothers occupied. If they are engaged, the mothers cannot bother you,” Erin hissed to Rand. She was barely able to speak but he heard her and called for all the riders to move forward and attack the elf fighters. Erin could hear the ring of metal swords and the grunts and groans of the battle echo off the walls of the gorge as she kept her focus on twisting the lines.

  As the shadows moved across the rocks, Erin continued to struggle against the mothers. Neither side was able to succeed in twisting the lines against the other. She could not check on the progress of her riders’ battle as she concentrated on fighting the mothers. With Alec, this would have been an easy battle. Erin felt the sweat roll down the sides of her face. She felt one of the mothers disengage from the confrontation; now she could gain on the other two. Slowly the lines started to twist in her favor. We have them now. The lines quickened, then swirled as one of the mothers collapsed, releasing her hold on the lines. The lines rebounded and spun wildly around.

  Erin twisted the lines and deflected the rebounded lines. The dark energy responded to the deflection of the twisting lines with an unstable oscillation. “Ride the oscillation waves and make them decrease, like my Great Wizard does,” she grunted to Colin.

  “I don’t know how to do that,” Colin answered, uncertainly. Erin could feel him trying, like smudges of energy against the lines. Then he cried out, “Help!”

  Erin felt the flow of dark energy stop. She looked over at Colin. He had fallen to his knees in the dirt and was holding his head in his hands, shaking.

  “You have done well,” she grunted to him, breathing heavily. It was hard to talk while she was engaged with the mothers, but she needed to encourage the youth. “The oscillations could have killed you, but they only left you with a splitting headache. My Great Wizard would be proud of what you did. The headache will pass in a few minutes and your vision will return. As soon as you can focus again, rejoin the battle. Until then, I can hold them off.”

  Her chest heaved with the effort as she continued to hold her focus. With just two mothers, if that first one is still around, I should be able to prevail, if the riders give me enough time. The lines suddenly twisted, then spun around as the next mother dropped. Erin took an instant to check her surroundings. It is too quiet. The sounds of fighting had stopped. There were three of them – what happened to the other one?

  Erin twisted the lines, searching, and then felt them twisting around the third mother. The third mother engaged and slowed the twisting lines. Erin continued to make the lines move slowly around the mother.

  “Colin, I think this mother put our riders to sleep. Our riders’ battle seems to have stopped; I do not hear anything. If you can send me dark energy, I can quickly finish her off before any of the elf fighters reach us.”

  Colin was still on his knees in the dirt, “I can’t. I can’t focus.” He was still shaking. “The rebound when I lost focus … I’m weak … I can’t even stand up.” Colin raised his head and looked between his hands down the gorge, where the sounds of battle had rung out only moments before. Now there was an eerie stillness. Then, the sound of scrambling feet.

  “Sis! The elf fighters are coming over the barricade,” he exclaimed.

  Erin looked up at the caves above them, high on the side of the gulch. The caves would give us a chance for you to recover, but we don’t have time before they are upon us.

  “Grab your sword! We will have to do this the old-fashioned way!” Erin split her attention and no longer concentrated only on twisting the lines. The lines stopped twisting as she turned towards the approaching elves and with a smooth motion drew her sword and engaged the first elf clutchman; with a practiced display of swordplay she dispatched him. She slashed at the second and the third. Three down. Just disable, don’t waste time killing. There is not enough space for them to surround me. She viciously attacked two more.

  She felt the lines start to twist around her. There are two mothers twisting lines; one must have recovered enough to fight again. Focus against them. The force against her was strong; she struggled to resist the twisting and gain mastery over the elf mothers. The effort forced more and more of her attention away from her assailants. She was hard-pressed to resist the mothers twisting the lines at the same time she fought the clutchmen. Even so, she managed to bring down another clutchman; the remaining elves backed away from her. She stepped forward and heard a sound from the hillside above her. Several elves had climbed up the steep face of the gorge and were dropping down behind her.

  Then she heard the ring of metal behind her. Colin, you found your sword!

  The mothers twisted harder and Erin was forced to pay more attention to the lines of energy twisting about her. She launched an attack against an elf who had stepped forward and was rewarded with a disabling blow. Her sword stuck in the elf’s armor for an instant. The double distraction of the twisting lines and the stuck sword caused her to lose her rhythm, giving an elf behind her the opportunity to press an attack.

  She never saw, only heard, the rocks as they cascaded down from above. One caught her and grazed her head, knocking her to the ground. Now on the ground, she had her sword firmly in her grip and rolled into another elf, knocking him down.

  The impact of her body slamming into the burly elf caused her to lose her focus on the twisting lines. She tried to regain it but trying to move away from the elf’s sword and simultaneously resisting the lines became impossible. The lines became slick and she could not get a grasp on them. On the ground, unable to regain her footing, she looked around – she could see the feet of a dozen elves standing around her with spears poised above her. Then the lines spun and snaked around her and her world became fuzzy as her vision blurred and her eyes closed.

  6 – The Cull

  The next thing Erin felt was a pain in her side. She opened her eyes to a blurry world. A man with a spear was standing over her. He poked again with the butt end of his spear, and she again felt the pain of a deep bruise. They have taken my ring. Her eyes continued to clear, but her head throbbed. She saw two sets of boots near her face. Elf boots.

  “On your knees,” a voice commanded.

  Erin felt around for her sword. No sword. Her head hurt. Pain permeated through everything, clouding all her senses, continuing to intensify. She recognized the feeling from the last time she was captured by elves, years ago. I have been banded! The pain increased until she had to do something to stop it. Anything.

  “Your knees! Up!” the voice barked again.

  Erin rolled onto her knees, and the pain stopped. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a line of naked individuals, men and women, each wearing a metal neckband, being chained together as they stood on the path. A woman in a flowing robe stood nearby. Another captive man was brought before the woman. That is one of my riders. The woman touched him, and he quickly undressed and was chained to the line. An elf mother. Probably one that I was fighting. Erin knew the elf language and understood the conversation between the mother and the clutchman; she strained to hear as much as she could, but the voices were muffled as they discussed the man.

  Next a woman was brought before the mother. Is that my brave rider who faced the dragon? The mother looked at her for a second. “Keep her.”

  The kneeling position was extremely uncomfortable, but anytime Erin tried to move, the pain returned. Her head hurt so much that she could barely think. What would Alec do in this situation? He would know how to escape. The mother touched the woman standing in front of her and she undressed; she was led to the line of captives and chained. The clutchman brought another woman to the mother. The mother looked at her for a brief moment. “She is too old to produce many more pups. Kill her.” Erin watched with a sick feeling as the clutchman slashed the rider’s throat and she was unceremoniously dumped to one side of the clearing. My rider!

  The clutchman walked towards Erin, no emotion on his face. I have had pups! Will they kill me? Am I too old? She began to trembl
e, but the resurgence of pain stopped her. If she looks at me closely, she might know that I am a cross-breed, so I can only have three pups. And I’ve already had two. So I wouldn’t make a good breeder. But maybe she won’t know that. Her eyes flitted around nervously. Think. Alec was able to outsmart the elf bands, when they were captured before, but he had not been chained.

  Then it was Erin’s turn. She was unceremoniously pulled up to her feet by her hair and brought before the mother. The mother touched her. “Stand still and look down.”

  Erin could not resist. She wanted to do whatever the elf asked of her. If the elf wanted to slit her throat, then Erin wanted to make it easy for her to do it. Her only desire was to perform whatever the mother asked.

  The male elf said, “Mother, another female. Shall I kill it?”

  The mother looked at Erin for what seemed like forever. Erin held her breath, but raised her throat to make it easy for the clutchman to reach it. She tried to not show any emotion. “Keep her.”

  Two words decide my life or death. That’s all. I don’t get any explanation?

  The mother said. “Undress.”

  Erin’s every desire was to please the mother. She could not imagine doing anything except what the mother directed. She stripped off her clothes and stood obediently, ready to do anything else the mother wanted. “Chain her with the others.”

  Erin obediently turned towards the chainline. As soon as the mother released her touch, Erin no longer felt the overpowering desire to please the elf. She started to struggle, but the two elf fighters held her tightly and roughly pulled her to the chainline. She was the last one added to the line; as soon as she was chained with the others an elf ordered everyone to not talk, and to look at the person in front of them and follow them. Although the others in the chainline were her riders, none looked at her or acknowledge her presence. Some Princess I am, Erin thought ruefully. My riders. Herded like beasts. Her head still throbbed, and it was hard to think, but she followed the line as they started walking back past the site of her mental battle with the elf mothers. Colin, she thought in despair, glancing around. She did not see him. I have lost my brother.

  ✽✽✽

  By late afternoon they reached the end of the gorge where the dragon squatted, paying no heed as the line of chained captives walked past. As the sun fell behind the trees and the moons shone high in the sky, they reached a camp with several wagons pulled together in a semi-circle. A dozen or more banded workers crisscrossed the open area, tending to the tasks of the evening routine.

  Drones, Erin realized. Those are domesticated elf drones. At the order of the lead elf, the chainline knelt and stayed in place as he left them. A lone drone walked down the line giving each captive one swallow of water from a single ladle. The drone then dolloped out a scoop of porridge-like gruel on the ground in front of each of them. A clutchman, apparently assigned to watch them, ordered them to eat it all. Erin resisted, but the pain returned. Can’t escape as long as I am chained. Better to avoid the pain. She sighed. Alec would have a plan for escaping. Several of her chain-mates were eating directly from the ground. Like dogs. Erin used her hands to scoop up the gruel, but by the time she had eaten it all she had ingested almost as much dirt as gruel. The gruel was tasteless; only the dirt provided any flavor. Eat it. I will need to have my strength when there is an opportunity to escape.

  As dusk fell, Erin was able to raise her head unnoticed and get a good look at her chainline. She counted. Thirty people including me. All riders. At the start of the day she had set out with forty riders, fifteen of whom were women. She looked carefully down the line. Neither Rand nor Colin were there. They must have been killed. I don’t think any of us escaped.

  Even though it was now evening, the attendant clutchman started training the captives, speaking in an unfamiliar language, barking commands, and prodding them with a long gaff. At first many of the riders resisted, either through pride or because they did not comprehend the orders, but the clutchman exerted his power over them and the captives writhed in agony until they no longer resisted. The clutchman waited until everyone obeyed the command and then issued a different command for them to learn.

  He must be speaking in Dronish. That makes sense; if we are to be turned into drones, we won’t need to understand Elvish. Dronish was a simplified version of the elven language; Erin could understand the commands but her riders obviously did not. Erin wanted to help and tell them what the elf was saying, but she had been instructed not to talk and if she found her voice it created an intense pain. Finally, the clutchman tired of the training and allowed the captives to sleep, still chained, lying on the uneven ground. Erin slept fitfully. She dreamed of Alec and of her children. Will I ever see them again?

  At first light, the naked captives were prodded awake. The elves’ drones were already working and had prepared food. A drone dumped another scoop of the gruel on the ground in front of each of them and gave them water. This time she didn’t hesitate to eat the mush. At least it’s warm. And oddly filling. After that, they started to march.

  About mid-morning a caravan of wagons and drones passed the shuffling column. As they scrambled to get out of the way of the heavy wagons one of the captive riders tripped and the wheel of the last cart ran over his shin. The herding clutchman quickly determined that the man could not walk, removed him from the chain, slit his throat, and tossed him by the side of the trail. The rest of the captives were prodded to proceed, passing gamely by the bleeding body at the side of the path. Erin wanted to at least provide a proper departing ceremony, but there was nothing she could do except respond to the elves’ commands.

  By early evening, their chainline was brought into a larger camp. Erin saw several other chainlines of captives, similarly naked and banded. The lines of captives were herded into an open area in the center of the circled wagons.

  “Where are you from?” Erin managed to whisper to a man in an adjoining line, jostled against her as they waited while the elves gave orders to the drones. ‘Whispering’ is not speaking, she thought, remembering how Alec had explained that following the elf commands must be very precise.

  “Pome, in Theland,” the man answered uncertainly, eyeing her suspiciously, not able to tell if she was friend or foe. “We were fleeing a dragon when we were taken. Our Princess was supposed to save us, but – she did not.” Then his line was jerked away and she could no longer see him.

  Erin bit her lip. ‘She did not.’

  As the half-dozen or so lines of chained captives milled about, Erin could tell by their manner and accent that at least two sets were from Gott; she could not tell if the others were from Theland, Gott, or the Grasslands beyond. From the terrain around the camp, Erin knew that they were in the foothills bounding Gott, moving moonward towards the Elf Mountains. We’ve moved in a big crescent, she thought, out of Theland and alongside Gott. She could see the ridgelines of the Elf Mountains but could not pick out any peak that she recognized. I don’t know where we are.

  The next morning the carts and camp drones left first, following a newly-established trail cut through the wooded hills. The chainlines followed, captives sometimes walking double or triple along the path, stepping as carefully as they could to avoid the recently-hacked limbs and tangles of underbrush along the route. As the day went on the path became steeper and rougher and it was difficult to walk barefoot along the rocky path. Erin’s feet were becoming calloused and she was sore, tired, and dehydrated, but she knew she was still in better shape than many of the others.

  Towards evening they came upon a large encampment; Erin recognized the same wagons from their prior camp as her line passed by. The layout of the camp was similar: a circle of wagons with a cleared space in the center. But here, the clearing was large and crowded with a mass of chained, naked, banded people – dirty, smelly, but oddly quiet. Erin’s line joined them.

  We must be in the elf lands now, Erin realized. This must be their permanent camp. That other camp must have been mere
ly a temporary collection point. She sadly watched the moons rise over the ridgeline above the camp, the same moons that so recently had bathed her in gentle light as she chanted to her little Leon.

  ✽✽✽

  As darkness fell, she realized they were not going to be fed; apparently it was too hard to make way through the hundreds of captives just to provide the luxury of a scoop-full of gruel. Here in the mountains the night was cool but the body heat of the packed captives made it possible for her to sleep.

  The warmth of the morning sun was welcome; Erin felt hungry and groggy as she woke but realized that there were fewer people huddled in the center of the camp. One by one, lines of chained captives were taken from the center of the camp and led off to one side. With her limited knowledge of Dronish, Erin could make out a few words: “obscuring field” and “bracelet” were words she heard repeated many times. The intensity of pain for disobedience seemed to have increased. The captives now silently followed the elf commands without question. Erin could not see where the captives were taken; it caused extreme pain to raise her head to look.

  Finally, it was her line’s turn. They were hustled out of the central area to a smaller clearing on one side of the camp. One by one they were removed from the chain, force-fed a small amount of watery gruel, and led behind a wagon. Erin was last. She was unchained; a drone appeared to collect the chains and neatly pack them for future use. Then she was taken to a large wooden block. She could see that there were other blocks lining the area, with captives approaching them.

  “Lie down,” the clutchman said, and shoved her onto her back on the block. “Spread.” He poked her with his gaff, and she lay spread-eagle on the block, legs apart, arms out to her sides. “Wash the animal,” the clutchman said, and a drone appeared with a hand mop and cold water. The drone splashed the cold water over her frontside and scrubbed with the little mop; then at the clutchman’s command she rolled over and the drone scrubbed her back and buttocks. The cold water made her shiver but she held still; anything else would have resulted in unspeakable pain. Next, she felt a razor sliding through her hair and saw her long dark locks dropping to the ground. She was directed to roll over and the rest of the hair was removed from her body. Then she was doused with an odd-smelling liniment. No lice now, she thought.