First Cleansing: Part II

When morning came, Gunedda had Bleddig bring the highest-ranking human captives to her tent. They were a mix of defiant and sullen faces, all except for one man, the oldest among them, who met Gunedda's eyes with calm acceptance of his fate.

"You are all free. Take what men you have left, bury your dead and go home."

The humans stared at Gunedda unmoving for several moments before the meaning of her words struck home. The oldest looked at her intently. "What is it you expect of us in return for your mercy, Lady Craulann?"

Gunedda grimaced at the name, but nodded. "Aye, you have the right of it. What I expect is for you to act as my messengers to your leaders. Tell them the Blood Sword offers peace."

"Peace at what price, elf?" someone asked.

"We will discuss that, your leaders and I, when we meet. Tell them I ask for a flag of truce and a meeting, two days hence, at the Swift River Ford. Each may bring two men to serve as guards and witnesses to the terms of the treaty. But think on this: could the price of peace be anymore dear than what the cost of war has been for both our peoples? How many more lives can you afford to lose?"

When the humans had left her tent, she turned to Bleddig. "Where is my father?"

"A day's ride to the north, chasing enemy cavalry. Here." He pointed to a spot on the map spread atop a table.

Gunedda nodded. "Send riders with a message about the meeting. If father starts back right away, he should be able to attend with us."

"Very well, milady." He hesitated before going on. "Why are you doing this, Gunedda? We've beaten them. One more battle and it could take generations for the humans to recover."

"And then what, Bleddig? You and I ride out to face their grandchildren? When does the cycle stop, my friend, if no one tries to put a stop to it?"

Two days later, the two sides met at the appointed place at midday. Lord Thallion had not arrived in time, and although Gunedda had delayed as long as she could, in the end she, Bleddig, and another noble of the clan rode to the ford to meet the leaders of the Children of the Flame. When the name Tiren of East Shire was called out by a herald, the elder who had stood so calmly in her tent stepped forward to bow with a slight smile. For some reason, this brought hope to the elven princess as they sat down and began to talk. Perhaps terms could be arrived at before her father's arrival.

The day wore on, and finally all agreed to withdrawals back to their original borders and an exchange of any prisoners still held on either side. A yearly meeting of the two races would be held back at Swift River Ford to iron out any disputes. The terms were written out by some scribes, and one by one, the humans set their marks upon the parchment.

Still, the Lord of the Silver Rose had not arrived. Finally, Gunedda added her name to the treaty as the Heir, and it was done.

A few moments later, as the humans and elves drank a toast to the new peace, riders were seen approaching from the elven lines.

"Treachery!" some hothead shouted, but Tiren bade his companions be silent until the purpose of the newcomers could be learned. There were six elven warriors, one leading a horse bearing a body, and one holding the reins to another mount with a human rider whose hands were bound. Tiren gave a groan of dismay.

Gunedda stepped forwards as the riders halted before the assembly. :"What is the meaning of this? Where is my father?"

The lead rider dismounted, and the bow he gave to Gunedda was that given the Lord of a clan, and she knew. She looked over at the body and recognized the cloak that covered it.

"How did it happen?"

"Your father died in battle, Lady. This one, " he pointed at the captive, "was the one who killed him."

Her father's killer was little more than a boy, and Gunedda saw how he looked calmly at her. She turned to Tiren, who nodded.

"Aye. This is my son."

Gunedda wanted nothing more than to draw Kil'mannin. Her fingers flexed as she looked at Tiren' s son. "Was it fair combat? Did you meet my father face to face?"

It was the leader of the elven riders who answered. "Bravely done on both sides, milady. Our force outnumbered theirs two to one, but they nearly won free. Only this one lived, and we brought him here to face your vengeance."

And so silence fell, as the humans waited for the woman they called the Blood Sword to claim the life of the young man who had killed her father.

Gunedda turned to Tiren, whose face was pale. "How many of those with your son were your bloodkin?"

"All, milady. One was my other son." His voice shook.

"Then I think we've both paid more than enough. Don't you?" She ordered the boy released, and then rode back to camp, and that night, sent her father to the Summerlands on wings of flame.

It was not until a few days later that she had cause to draw Kil'mannin from its sheath, Bleddig found her sitting under a tree by the side of the road, the blood blade across her knees, tears rolling down her cheeks. She pointed wordlessly at the sword, and her shield bearer looked.

There at the tip was a hand's width of pure steel, shining brightly in the sun.

*********

"And such was the first cleansing of Kil'Mannin, the Star Sword."
Calen made a disgusted sound. "That's all? She let him free?"
Shane nodded. "Aye, she did."
"That's a dumb story! Why would she do that?"
Conn nodded in agreement with Calen. "We want another story! Wyss at the Walls of Malarossa, let's hear that!"
Shane frowned. "I told you a story, and you promised to leave me alone if I did."
"Didn't promise, just said we would if you did. Now…"

Arista swooped into the room and took each twin by the hand. "Now you will leave our bardling brother alone to sleep and keep your word as good knights should." She winked at Shane, then moved her younger brothers towards the bedroom door. "Besides Mother and Cook have made sweet rolls for breakfast."

"Thanks, Ari!" Shane gave his sister a grateful smile and then lay back to close his eyes.

A wonderful aroma lingered on after his sister, and suddenly Shane's stomach rumbled in hunger. His eyes opened. "Sweet rolls?"

He jumped out of bed, grabbed a robe, and ran downstairs for breakfast.