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*NOTE*** This story isn't edited. It is an extreme rough draft. Suggestions on the comment board would be greatly appreciated.
Tales of Inanis: The Gardener's Tale
The garden was a rather large one, with many plants, flowers and trees. The variety of plant life was often astounding to the various people who visited. It was an open garden, something of an oddity among the elves who were intensely private and protective about their personal spaces. The garden had many paths meandering through it, which visitors could spend entire days on, without having to repeat a path or cover territory seen before. This garden was on the outskirts of the capital city of the elves, Naytawis. The city had been in existence for millennia, one of the first that had appeared near the beginning of time. The garden belonged to 2 of the rulers of the elves, high lords of the Dianid. They employed the keepers of the gardens and were seen by the citizens of Naytawis, and indeed the entire elvish nation, as a bit odd. Their origins had much to do with this, as they were not born into ruling. They were two simple people, a farmer and his wife, when they were elevated to the Dianid by the great dragon Malachise. They weren't exactly popular among the other high class of the elves for this reason, but they held off the animosity of the people by their public gardens and donations. They hired all the workers themselves for these projects and funded them out of their own pockets, which had been amply lined by the dragon before he disappeared. So the people tolerated the differences.
This particular garden had only one keeper, regardless of the size. The most skilled gardener in the elven kingdom had been tapped to work it. There were rumors as to the amount that he was paid, but not even he would talk about it. Some lesser heard, closer to reality rumors told tale of how he was working for a pittance, just so he could work with such a magnificent project. The gardener's name was Ultimat.
Such was his skill that he was the only person needed to work the garden, though it took him an entire month to work his way through all the plants in it. He was meticulous in his planning, and careful in his pruning. If there were a person hired to tend a gardener's garden, it was him. His love of growing things showed in the flourishing of the garden.
There was one other person who helped him, though was not hired to do so. The child followed him around, carrying things and helping with the minor tasks like watering and picking. Usually though, Ultimat took care of the place so well that there was little need for extra watering and very very few weeds. Because of this the child usually just asked questions in the way that a child usually would. This child had no name yet, in the way of the elves. Until the coming of age the child was known only by a pet name. Once old enough, the child would pick his own name. This child was known affectionately as Weed, because of his constant questioning.
The rumors also followed the child in the way they followed Ultimat. The people of the city wondered at his parentage, first of all, because he looked nothing like Ultimat. He was a very thin child, with an angular face and high pointed ears. Ultimat, on the other hand, was a plump old elf with short ears, whose points were barely noticeable. His hair was close to completely gray, but showed enough of the former color to show that it was nothing like Weed's close cropped jet black hair. Weed and Ultimat were extremely different in most every way.
While Ultimat was slow and careful, always watching and learning, Weed was quick to act and quicker to talk. Weed's patience had yet to be learned, and it showed in the way he helped out. Rarely did Weed like to stand and watch Ultimat's pampering of a certain plant, rather he wandered ahead to see what new insects or animals might show up. Weed was a precocious eight year old. That is another thing that perplexed the people of the city. What was such a child doing helping at work, instead of running free among the plants? Such was the way of the elves, until the coming of age, children were expected, if not forced, to have care free lives. Not being tied down to one spot or place, it was thought that they would learn much better if they were allowed to explore outside anywhere. The only rule placed upon their wanderings was to stay out of people's private gardens and homes. To see this child follow around an elder and work was a source of much curiosity.
This curiosity might have been satisfied if Ultimat were questioned, but the elves did not do that. The one standing rule in the gardens was that the gardener and helpers were never to be bothered. This rule was respected by the visitors, as they understood the need for privacy. So, regardless of the amount of curiosity, they'd never break the rule.
The visitors could hear the conversations between the two often though. Weed's talking preceded them and followed them everywhere. Ultimat's answers were always slow in coming and calm, in counterpoint to Weed's fast questions. Weed was the characteristic eight year old, and his questions had much to do with his surroundings. Ultimat being the gardener was able to answer most of his questions without problems. Had any of the visitors followed the conversations, they would have learned much about both gardening, Ultimat's disposition and Weed's life.
It was a normal day for the two garden dwellers. Ultimat had stopped at a section of the garden that was resplendent in bright red flowers. The petals shown in the morning dew, and some few of them had spots of brown upon them. The brown did not belong and because of this Ultimat worried at them for longer than Weed could handle.
"Ultimat! What are we doing here! The flowers just have small stains on them, they'll recover! They always do! Let's get moving!"
"Hush Weed, and listen to me now. This is perhaps one of the most important lessons I'll impart to you: In curing the whole, nothing is more important than caring for the parts. If you don't care for the smaller bits and pieces, then the whole will suffer. It is the same in gardens as it is everywhere else."
"Ultimat! You always say things like that! Why don't you ever make sense?" Weed sighed, and his shoulders slumped. He knew that they would be in this place a while more at the very least. There was nothing to either water, or to pick here.
"Weed, to make sense to you I have to talk much faster. Which I will not do. You'll understand in time. But what I mean is easy to deduce, should you give thought to it. Now while I am thinking, I'll make you think."
Weed fidgeted. He didn't like it when Ultimat became like this. It meant that the while they spent in this spot could become the entire day. The sun was only out for so long...
"What are these brown spots on the flower?"
Weed shrugged his shoulders and sat down. "I don't really know. It could be spots from a passing animal, marking it."
"Could it be? I don't think so. Turn over the petal and tell me what you see..."
Weed did so, and saw that the stain went all the way through the petal. "No, its not an animal. It is on the other side!"
"Exactly. Now, for the sake of argument, what would happen if we left it like this?"
Weed scowled. "Nothing would happen. It'd get better, and we'd be able to go on..."
"Now you know that is not the case. Does this remind you of anything?" Ultimat said in a doctoral tone, and he pointed at a plant near the red flowers.
Weed looked that way and noticed that on the stems of the other plant had the same brown marks. Weed forgot his unhappiness and spent the next few moments checking the other plants in the area. He only noticed the brown spots on the one or two plants in close spots to the original flowers.
"They are on these plants as well!"
"Yes, they are. Now tell me, are the flowers, or these others, the ferns, do they look as fresh as the other plants in the area?"
"No, they don't. They look more...dead."
"Yes. Now, what might have happened had we done what you wanted, and left them be?"
Weed sensed the answer, but stubbornly shook his head. "They could've gotten better..."
"You are just saying that. You know that wouldn't have happened."
Weed sighed. "Yes, sir."
Ultimat smiled. "Eventually you will understand the necessity of being careful. Now, fetch me out of the pack some of the blue powder."
Weed went to his chore willingly enough, but it was obvious that he was unhappy that he had been shown his error.
Ultimat shook his head. Soon enough, Weed, you will be sent out into the world. Then I hope you will be ready, and that my small lessons will be enough to help you along.
****
Another day, another spot in the garden. Weed was fidgeting again, this time over Ultimat's decision to rest beneath one of the side trees to the garden.
Weed walked ahead a ways, and then doubled back and walked behind them. Ultimat began to snore gently. Weed walked up to the spot once more, and rolled his eyes when he heard Ultimat. He was bored, and there was nothing at the moment to do. He knew the garden inside and out by now, and knew of some great hiding places. At times like this, when Ultimat wasn't watching, he went to these places and overheard the conversations of some of the visitors to the gardens.
There was an excellent spot that sat directly behind a bench, and it was only a short way from the tree where Ultimat was napping. Weed scuttled through the various underbrush, and came to rest at a small opening. It was undetectable unless they knew exactly where to look, and Weed was sure that only he knew about it. He rested several meters back from a bench put there for tired walkers. It was several minutes before a couple of passersby took refuge on the bench. Weed recognized them as nobles in the government by the insignia on their cloaks. That and the fact that they were young and on the portly side labeled them as high born with a life of ease.
Weed stayed still as they sat on the bench, and stifled a giggle as the wood creaked with the weight.
"This garden becomes more beautiful as time passes, Bendarus." The speaker was younger than the other, and he pulled an apple and a small knife from his cloak to snack on.
"Yes, I suppose it does. That and the fact that there is no listening magics employed here makes it a very attractive spot." Bendarus said, eyeing the apple with some wistfulness, "A perfect spot to speak, Gendar. Now what is it you wished to discuss?"
Gendar cut a slice of the apple, and passed it to Bendarus who took it with an appreciative smile and nod. "Besides the weather, our family's health, and the state of our aging bones?"
Bendarus laughed. "Come now, we aren't in the Dianid's chambers now, we can speak plainly. No need to resort to allegory. What brings us out here?"
"Well, I just wanted to gauge your reaction on certain things and I believe that this garden is probably the best place for precisely the reason you just offered. Things are happening, what with the human armies fortifying their positions, and the Dianid's posturing..."
Bendarus laughed, and swallowed his apple slice. "Well, since we are out here, I will tell you the truth right now: The Dianid is, in my opinion, split on the matter of the humans. Lycanthis seems to want to pull out all the stops and crush the human armies before they become a problem, while the farmers just want to wait it out. My opinion, well..." He eyed the apple in Gendar's hand.
Gendar took the hint and handed him another slice. Bendarus smacked his lips, and said "These apples are delicious. If the farmers can't rule well, at the very least they can grow things well."
"Bendarus, you're right."
Gendar finished slicing the apple and apportioned it out. They sat in silence for a few minutes, appreciating the garden around them. Weed scratched an itch that had appeared on his toe. A stick snapped under him, but neither of the two in front of him took any notice. Weed grimaced and then settled back, somewhat interested in the topic of conversation.
Bendarus shifted, again causing the bench to creak. "My opinion is that the farmers are not fit for rule, and probably should have not been lifted to the position. But the dragon is dead and gone now, so what are we to do?"
Gendar glanced around, as if to make sure that there were no eavesdroppers. No one appeared on the path, and leaned towards the other. "Then you agree with my thinking. There is always a minority in matters of war, but usually they don't have the clout of having someone in power. The farmers should probably be taken care of..."
"Assassination? My dear sir, I can hardly believe that you'd plot such a thing!" Bendarus mocked, with a glint in his eye. "Especially in their own gardens!"
"I just wanted to make sure you knew what I was thinking. Whether or not to act on it, that is the matter for the council to deliberate. I wanted to figure out beforehand the amount of support such a motion would have, before making a fool of myself." Gendar tossed the core in the bushes. It hit Weed in the head. He was smart enough not to make a noise though, if they were talking about killing adults, then they'd not care if they killed a child.
"You're careful, Gendar. That is always a plus, just make sure that caution doesn't slow the hand when action is needed. Lycanthis is always watching. If the farmers are killed, then he will be in complete control. Council or no council, the people believe that God gave it to the Dianid to rule. If only one is left, Lycanthis will have near total control. If your plan succeeds, you will reap huge benefits from it." Bendarus looked down at his folded hands. "But now, I do believe that we must be getting back. It was an enjoyable afternoon, Gendar. God go with you."
"If there was one, then perhaps He'd look twice before traveling with me..." Gendar laughed. He got up and walked down towards the nearest exit out of the gardens. "Ah, but what will happen to these gardens..." Bendarus muttered to himself as he also got up with a groan, and explored more along the path. Weed watched them both go, and when he was sure that they wouldn't hear him, he headed back towards the pine tree where Ultimat slept.
****
When Weed had woken Ultimat, and Ultimat had cleared the nap's cobwebs from his mind, he realized the trouble that was brewing. But he also knew Weed, so he had to be sure. Weed took him to the bench where Ultimat saw the leavings of the apple, and the core near where Weed had been sitting. It was then that he began to believe Weed.
"Ultimat, who are the 'farmers'? They talked about killing them, but they must mean just some people, not every farmer out there..." Weed looked around.
"They are the Lord and Lady who own this garden. You've met them once or twice Weed. I don't know of this Bendarus and Gendar though. Perhaps they will. I think I shall have to talk with the so called 'farmers'."
"They can't kill them! They're nice people! They're always kind to us!" Weed said. He sat down, and began to rub at his eyes.
"Why are you crying Weed?" Ultimat looked at him.
"Because this is so horrible!"
"Stand up. Now." Ultimat told him.
Weed looked up through blurry eyes at him. He had never heard this tone of voice before, even when he had been caught painting some of the duller plants in the gardens when he was younger. Weed stood up.
"Now stop this foolishness. They are not dead yet, nor can we be sure they CAN die. This is not the time for crying. When nothing has happened, and we may yet be of some use, to sit and cry is useless. Do I make myself clear?"
Weed stared, and nodded.
"Now come along. I will take care of talking to the Lord and Lady. But now there is still work to do right here in the garden."
They walked down the path and began again their work started that day.
****
"Why do you need to see them, Ultimat? Visitors digging in the garden again? More than likely those damned humans...like rodents!" Captain Tellor was a large elf, muscled, and scarred from his time in the mountains.
"No Captain, it has nothing to do with the gardens and little to do with humans. This matter does require your presence though, which is why I came to you first instead of using my privilege to talk with them privately."
"Oh ho! Is there some snake or insect you can't handle with that spade of yours gardener? Perhaps a plague of locusts you want me and my men to guard the plants against!"
"Don't mock me, Tellor. You'll understand soon enough, now please let's go speak with the Lord and Lady."
"Where is Weed? Your tail seems to be missing. I'm telling you, you should turn him over to me, so I can train him properly."
Ultimat smiled and shook his head, he knew of Weed's opinions. Weed never really liked Tellor, the elf always seemed much too brash and angry. But Weed always treated him with respect, due to his position in the household. As Captain of the guard contingent assigned to the family Lapthalla, to displease him was not intelligent.
"No, Tellor, he isn't ready for your training. He has to grow into his bones yet."
"As you will, Let's go. I think they've got a short break in between their appointments today. Whether or not this business is worth taking that time away from them is another matter."
They walked through the house. Ultimat had been present at its building, and had witnessed the construction of the over fifty rooms. The carpet was soft like grass, and the hallways were simply decorated. A picture or vase stood near each window, but it did not approach the opulence that Ultimat had heard described in other ruler's palaces. It had a nice feeling to it, like you would belong there. People visiting enjoyed that when they were inside the house.
Lord and Lady Lapthalla were seated in a side study quietly sipping tea. The study was one of the smaller in the house, one which the Lady claimed more suited their tastes. They looked up as Tellor announced them.
"Lord and Lady, the gardener Ultimat."
The Lord Lapthalla smiled. "Thank you Tellor. Judging from the grave expression on the face of our esteemed visitor, perhaps you'd better stay."
Ultimat nodded. "Yes, my lord. It requires Tellor's presence, and perhaps more secrecy than you normally afford yourselves."
The Lord Lapthalla nodded, his expression growing more serious. He muttered a few words, and the lamps in the room dimmed a little bit. At a gesture from his hand, the door closed and the lock could be heard clicking into place. "Ultimat, you rarely use this amount of seriousness unless something very wrong were to happen. Please, let us know what it is."
Ultimat nodded, and told them the tale as he had heard it from Weed. He left nothing out, and made certain to name the two conspirators in the garden.
"Well, this is certainly something we must be careful of.", the Lord started.
"Yes, dear, we must make sure we're protected. That way Lycanthis will not be the only voice heard by the councils. I've not heard of this particular council before, one which includes both Bendarus and Gendar."
Tellor cleared his throat. "Pardon the interruption, madam, but I have. There are rumors in the bars and street corners that there has been another council convened, one that from the shadows disagrees with the Dianid's rulings. There are various rumors, from attributing the creation of it to Lycanthis, to cavorting in the night against God, and other...unsavory activities that would be better kept to silence."
Lord Lapthalla sighed. "Yes, I've heard the rumors too. But unfortunately there is nothing we can really do at the moment to combat this council. Ultimat, are you certain that everything that Weed overheard was correct?"
"Yes, sir. I've trained Weed to be extra careful and attentive. I'd trust next to no one to be as sure as he is."
The Lady smiled. "Well, that is a relief. His training does both his parents and his teacher proud."
"Well, I thank you, my Lady. But there is much work still to be done in the day light that is left, and even more on the morrow. I must take my leave." Ultimat bowed and headed out the door.
Tellor cleared his throat. "Sir, and Lady, do you think the boy is telling the truth? And can he be trusted to keep his mouth shut? It wouldn't be prudent to let your hand slip that you know about this."
The Lord smiled. "You still doubt Ultimat, do you Captain? Don't worry. The boy's bloodline and Ultimat's teaching guarantee that he was both telling the truth and that he will be prudent."
"But what IS his bloodline, sir?" Tellor asked.
"That is not for you to know Captain. It will be known to you in time, perhaps sooner than you would wish it."
"As you will, my lord. I will return to my duties now, given your leave."
"As you were, captain."
****
A week passed with work in the garden keeping Weed busy, and his mind far from worrying. Nothing out of the ordinary passed, and life was normal. During the next week Ultimat no longer had to answer Weeds worries about the Lapthalla family.
It was an evening shortly after that Weed and Ultimat were finishing things up in the garden when a servant came up to them. Breathless from running, and disheveled in his uniform, he took longer than Weed had the patience for.
"Well! What is it! C'mon!" Weed said.
Ultimat held out a hand to Weed, motioning for quiet. "Weed, he has come a fair distance from the Mansion, by the way his clothes look. While he catches his breath, finish pulling those trimmings into a pile. Do so now, so that if need be we can leave right away."
Weed groaned, but did as he was told. Ultimat poured a bit of the water from a bucket into a ladle, and offered it to the servant. The servant looked worriedly at it, unsure of whether or not to drink. "Come now, lad. Weed drinks it all the time, and other than his rambunctiousness, it hasn't done him any harm. Have some, it will bring some calm."
The elf gave in, shrugged, and drank the ladleful. By the time the water was gone, his breath was back.
"An attack! On the lord and lady!"
Weed ran over from his trimmings. "Oh no! What happened! Were they killed? Injured? Who did it? Why was..."
Ultimat held his hand over Weed's mouth. "Quiet Weed. This isn't the time for your questions. Now is the time for silence. Learn the difference now, and it will help you later in life." He turned his eyes to the servant. "Have they survived?"
The servant looked a bit bewildered. "Yes, yes they did. But it was the most strange thing! I saw it with my own eyes! The swords in them both! They must have been stabbed a dozen times a piece! But they live!! In fact, they were recovering when they told me to summon you and the boy!"
"So the dragon did imbue them with immortality. That is comforting at the least. Has Captain Tellor been notified?"
"Yes sir. He was the one responsible for the death of half the assassins himself. Myself and the few others around just kept the rest busy until he could deal with them. Right now he is interrogating the ones left alive. But the summons for you and Weed were quite to the point. They probably will not be happy that I've kept them waiting this long even to catch my breath."
"No matter. It will give them extra time to recover their wits after such an attack. Balance and calm are needed now. Weed and I will be going forthwith. Rest here a while, and then make your way back. You won't be needed for a while yet."
"Yes sir. Thank you." The servant sat down on the ground gratefully.
Ultimat and Weed began the long climb towards the mansion. Ultimat kept his silence and Weed, sensing his teacher's mood was silent as well. Weed's thoughts raced here and there, and he wondered at what the scene might be. He imagined Captain Tellor's wrath unleashed, and shivered. The idea was not a pleasant one.
He also thought to the Lord and Lady Lapthalla. He hoped that they weren't at all hurt, and he was happy that they had somehow survived. He couldn't understand how much damage that the wounds could have inflicted, but he caught the awe that the servant had when it was described. To instill that much feeling, the Lapthallas must indeed be powerful!
Then they arrived at the mansion. A guard at the door showed them in and then went back to guarding it, his stony gaze carefully watching the shadows for the possibility of a renewed attack. Weed and Ultimat walked through the place. No one guided them, they basically followed the trail of red to where they needed to be. Weed's eyes grew large at the carnage that appeared in the room.
There were three forms covered with cloth on the ground, with a pool of red stretching out beneath them. Captain Tellor was assisting in tying up the two still struggling forms. Various pieces of armor and cloth, mixed with flesh were scattered around the room. Tellor looked up, leaving the forms in control of his soldiers. "God's Sake!! Ultimat, what are you doing bringing Weed in here! Its carnage!"
Ultimat nodded coolly. "Yes it is Captain. But something tells me that Weed will have to get used to seeing things like this before his whole business is over. Are the Lord and Lady ready for us?"
Tellor nodded. "Yes, they are. They've recovered quite well! Dragon's magic, Ultimat. Strange and wonderful! It covered for my poor guard attempts! They're just through that door. You'll have to prepare for a shock though, their clothes are a bit...ragged."
Ultimat nodded, and took Weed's hand. Weed couldn't help but stare at the scene around him. He was extra careful not to step in any of the battle's detritus on the way through the room. They entered in the alcove where the Lord and Lady waited. They appeared none the worse for wear, a little pale perhaps. Their clothes showed the true barbarity of the attack. They had removed them in favor of robes, but even Weed could tell that they shouldn't have been alive, with the amount of rents, shreds and blood covering the cloth.
Ultimat bowed. "Lord, and Lady."
The Lord nodded. "Ultimat. Do you think its time? Even though we may be immortal, it can only be a matter of time before some way is found to neutralize us. Weed must know."
"Yes, sir. It is time he knows who he is, where he came from, and how this will affect him. I wish that fate had given me more time but, it is not to be. The words are best from yourselves."
Weed looked at them with bewilderment. Ultimat's training this time did not hold up, and he couldn't help bursting out. "What are you talking about! I am who I am! I've been helping with Ultimat in the gardens for as long as I can remember! I don't understand!"
Ultimat pushed a chair nearer so that Weed could sit down. Lord Lapthalla sat opposite him, with the Lady standing behind to the right. Ultimat went outside to help Tellor with the investigations.
"Weed, this may be hard for you to accept, but it is the truth. You are the scion of the Lapthalla house, as it is known now. You are our child."
Weed's mouth hung slack and his eyes glazed over. He sat limply in the chair, with no movement at all. He had never questioned before his place in the world, always assuming that Ultimat would let him know when and how things were to happen. He had thought always that he was just someone who Ultimat had taken a liking to. Never before had he been given answers to these questions, even though he recalled asking them often when he was a child. Ultimat always told him not to worry, that he would know soon enough. Now he knew. And he was frozen with the knowledge.
"Perhaps he needs some time for the full weight to sink in. Maybe it will be best if we leave him now, my dear. Just know though, Weed," She said as she held his hand very tightly, "That we are very proud of you. You have done well over the years and Ultimat has given us glowing reports."
The Lord nodded, patted Weed on the head and walked out of the room with the Lady. Ultimat walked in then, and sat watching out the window, while Weed's eyelids slowly drifted shut into sleep.
****
The bodies had been removed and Tellor had set up the surviving members against the wall. He glared at them from time to time while ordering the guards to clean up the rest of the mess. Ultimat had gone back into the room to be with Weed. The Lord and Lady appeared then, and motioned captain Tellor over to them.
"Captain, we have something to tell you. We have another charge to place upon you, one that is just as important as the protection of our lives. You will be more of an accessory to this."
Tellor raised his eyebrows. "You want me to help guard Weed?"
"Very astute Captain, well done. Yes we do want you to help watch over Weed. It is essential that you do this for us."
"Just one question, if you please..."
"Certainly."
"Why?"
"Weed is our child. We're not entirely certain if our immortality affects him as well or not. We've kept it secret up to now, but with the reality of assassination attempts, we'd rather not see him struck down. Ultimat is a capable helper, but we would appreciate a little extra watchfulness from you. Personally."
Tellor's eyes widened, and he suddenly understood why they were so interested in Weed's accomplishments so often. He ran through his memories on the subject, and all his questions were answered. "Does he know?" He asked.
"Yes, we told him just now. But I believe that the shock of the bodies, the danger of the assassination attempt and the news have all combined. He was rather out of touch when we left him. Ultimat is there with him now, to make sure he doesn't do anything rash. Tomorrow will be a better day for him." The Lord Lapthalla moved in front of the would-be assassins. "As for these, we'll bring them down to the cellars and question them. Before turning them over to the Police."
Tellor nodded, and a couple of guards came over to haul the prisoners to their feet. They were herded down the hallways, which had darkened with the coming of the night. Tellor grabbed at one of the stands near a window and lit the oil lamp there. He brought it to the front and led the way to the cellars.
He sat the men against the wall, tied them to the chairs placed there, and removed their hoods. They were all non-descript humans, thought Tellor. Non pointy ears, and a savage gleam in their eyes.
"All right you bastards. I've got some questions for you."
One of the men looked straight at Tellor and the nobles, screwed up his face, and spat. The wad of spittle was blocked by the swing of Tellor's sword as it lopped off his ear. He screamed long and loud. It was finally cut off by the backhand of one of the guards.
"Any more outbursts?" Tellor asked, as he cleaned his sword on the man's tunic. "No? Good. Now the first and most important question is this: Who put you up to this? Even the human armies aren't this barbaric to try and kill the two members of the Dianid who actually support their cause..."
One of them looked up. "No, it wasn't the humans, and it wasn't the dwarves, it was one of your own, Elf. One of the high and mighty ones."
Lord Lapthalla moved closer. "But why? Why hurt your own cause?"
The man simply laughed. "This wasn't about causes. We're simple men. Pay us to do something, and we'll do it. We don't do 'causes'."
"But what of your people?"
"They don't matter. As long as I can get ahead, the rest of the humans matter to me about as much as the elves. Not at all."
Tellor nodded. "Very well, make it easy on yourself then. You don't want to be mistreated in the jails, nor do you want to be put to death. Tell us who hired you, and we'll protect you from the worst of it."
"Go to Hell, elf." The man with the cut ear said.
"Only if you're there to greet me, scum. Obviously he is going to get the worst of it. Anyone want to join him?"
"No. I'll tell you." The third man spoke up. He looked out of the corner of his eyes at the other two. The bleeding ear man glared openly at him, while the other sat staring at the ground.
"All right. But first, I'm going to hazard a guess: was it Bendarus, or Gendar? High councilmen?"
"No. Though they were the ones that contracted our services first. They just wanted to kidnap these two. Which probably would have been the intelligent thing, seeing as how they've been protected by the dragon. No it was someone else. His name was Lycanthis. The other third of your Dianid."
"Was he in league with the other two?"
"No. He came to us after we had been paid by the councilmen. He made it known that kidnapping was a bad idea, and from the size of his purse, we decided to listen to him. Normally we don't do murder, but for the amount that he offered...well, we could retire far out of the way of anyone and live quite nicely. So the plan changed from kidnapping to murder."
Tellor shook his head. "You can't really believe them, madam and sir. These are paid murderer's, lest we forget."
"That is true, but so is their story, or at least part of it."
The door burst open and Lycanthis stood before them all. "Lord and Lady Lapthalla, thank God that you are all right!!!"
"Lycanthis! Yes, we have survived, though not without grievous injury to ourselves..."
Lycanthis drew Zycarus. "Well, then that should be cured. We can't have too many problems all at once can we?"
"Quite right, Lycanthis. However, we were conducting our own inquiry into the matter, no need to keep you away from your sleep."
"Too true, but here I am. And I do believe about to right a wrong that has been committed in my name."
"Whatever do you mean, Lycanthis?"
Then Lycanthis stabbed Zycarus, the sword of the dragon, through the Lord Lapthalla. The once bright white blade now stood plain, no longer shining, in the flickering candlelight. The echo of the Lady's screams and Captain Tellor's profanities were barely dead in the air as Lycanthis drew his sword forth and struck down the Lady Lapthalla. There was no outcry from her. Only a sigh, and a turn of the head towards her loved one who lay in a puddle that slowly grew from his convulsing body.
"BASTARD!!!!" Tellor shouted.
"Well, that's your opinion sir. I personally think that perhaps you can't trust a job to be done unless you do it yourself. And as such, I've taken it myself to finishing it." Lycanthis said, his sword swinging towards Tellor's head. There was a loud clang as the two blades met, and a flash of sparks flew.
"Dammit Lycanthis, you know they'll just come back! The dragon entrusted them with everlasting life!!" Tellor swung at his opponent's head, only to be blocked at the last moment.
"Very true, Tellor. Very true indeed." Lycanthis did his own swinging, and Tellor easily blocked it, and nearly speared Lycanthis. "But you do realize, that immortality only affects us differently when we are up against mortal foes? This proves my supposition that an immortal may kill another immortal with impunity, and they'll stay dead. And being an immortal, I realized that humans could never do my job for me." Tellor realized that Lycanthis was correct. There was no movement from the Lapthallas, and their blood was staining the floor.
Tellor blocked a sideswipe blow and struck towards Lycanthis' head. There was no more speaking, as each of the opponents knew that this battle was to the death. The parries and sparks flew around the room, as Tellor and Lycanthis felt each other out. Tellor knew that this was his last fight, as even if he had Lycanthis on skill, he could never deal with an enemy who could not die by his hand. That did not stop him however. He kept at it with the resolve of at least making his death mean something to the people who Lycanthis had just slaughtered before his eyes.
Lycanthis swung high and then at the last minute brought his sword blade low. Although Tellor blocked it, Tellor's own sword was inferior to Zycarus. The sword of the captain of the guards shattered. Lycanthis beat Tellor to the Ground. "Tellor, it is a shame that you had to choose this way of serving your homeland. I could have easily used you as a general in the elfin armies. You could still join...it's not too late."
"Lycanthis, you and your followers will roast in hell where they belong."
Lycanthis swung Zycarus high and brought it down.
There was a loud clang, as the blow was turned away by a trowel. Ultimat was standing there, holding away the killing stroke by his simple garden tool. "Old man!!" Lycanthis hissed, "You have meddled in the gardens far too long to match me! It is time you fertilized them yourself!"
Ultimat merely grinned and then with a twist sent Zycarus to the other side of the chamber.
With a swing of his hand, he sent Lycanthis to the opposite side. The humans had taken advantage of the fight to try and free themselves from the ropes, with varying degrees of success. The one with the cut off ear had used the blood to slip from his bonds, as he launched himself towards the sword Zycarus. This sword wasn't meant for human hands however, either by Dragon's design, or by Lycanthis' extra meddling. A lightening bolt arced from the tip to the man's head, illuminating the room in a ghoulish blue light. It lasted but a few seconds, and the man fell down on top of it, dead. Lycanthis still had not moved from Ultimat's blow, while the other humans were shocked to stillness by their comrade's death.
"Come along, Tellor. I have a task for you." Ultimat helped the captain to his feet. "You have to get Weed out of here. Take him down to the garden. If you lose your way, have him guide you. You MUST protect him. If my suppositions are correct, with God's will, he will be able to stop Lycanthis. But he must be given the chance!"
Tellor nodded. "As you will, gardener. My word upon it, to the one who saved my life." He crossed his chest with his arm in salute, and ran from the room.
Ultimat heard a low laughing from where Lycanthis dropped on the ground. "He won't escape, old man. My men surround this house, and I've told them that Tellor was in conjunction with the humans, and that they killed the Lord and Lady. Now, all I need to do is to kill you, the humans, and then everything will be in order." Lycanthis slowly got to his feet. "You've got more power in that fist than you know what to do with gardener, you missed your calling."
"No Lycanthis. Unlike you, I learned the horrors of war after a short time in the army. I doubt you'll ever reach the same conclusions. Growing things is much more productive than tearing them down."
Lycanthis grunted. Ultimat stood watching him, slowly moving in front of the door to block any attempt by Lycanthis to escape. Lycanthis, however, had no thoughts of escape He walked to one of the humans who was still struggling. The human was laying down his chair strapped to his back, and he looked up at Lycanthis as he stood over him.
With a sickening crunch, Lycanthis stomped on the man's throat, crushing windpipe, spine and veins. The struggling ceased as the eyes of the man clouded over. "Ah. That's better. That leaves one human, one old elf, and probably your little helper child Ultimat. Tellor won't make it to the garden. That's all in one night's work. A satisfying night, I'll point out."
Ultimat sighed. "Well, my time has come, and probably the human's as well. But Tellor will make it out. You underestimate him, Lycanthis."
Lycanthis moved over and kicked the blackened body off of Zycarus. "Well, that is a damned shame. It isn't glowing anymore. Still white though. The blood will wash off I suppose."
"You're sick, Lycanthis. You will be punished by God for this night."
The last human alive frantically tried pushing away from Lycanthis towards the door. Ultimat moved out of the way, as Lycanthis walked towards the human.
"Old man, you're sounding much like the dragon now. Malachise was always spouting off about God and morality when he installed the Dianid. I think the dragon wars probably confused him more than anything. There is no God. There is magic and science. Both of which follow rules. God doesn't exist because I don't believe that there is a being on this planet that can break these rules." Lycanthis grunted as he hefted Zycarus above his head, and brought it down on the last human. It shattered through the chair's heavy back, and through the human. At this moment Ultimat struck.
He kicked Zycarus away from Lycanthis. Lycanthis struck out with his foot, and Ultimat fell to the side, in front of the sword. Ultimat came to his knees and saw Lycanthis stepping towards him. He launched himself upwards, and stabbed Lycanthis through the heart with his trowel. So great was the blow, the handle was the only part still in the air. Lycanthis fell backward, and his face contorted in pain. Ultimat saw this, and against all logic, hoped that this would keep Lycanthis down.
It did seem that Lycanthis had breathed his last, but with a spastic move, his hand started waving. He brought it over to the trowel and slowly pulled it out, a sucking sound accented the move. Lycanthis' mouth widened in its silent scream even more, and he yelled as the trowel was completely brought out. Ultimat reached behind him and brought up the sword that had been laying on the ground.
Lycanthis had gotten to a sitting position and felt down at his shirt. "Excellent. I AM immortal! That will probably leave a scar though. Now you've fully angered me Old Man. You'll die painfully."
Ultimat grunted as he stood up, and he held the sword in front of him. Lycanthis was through playing around. He swung the trowel full force against the sword. It was knocked out of Ultimat's hands, and Lycanthis swung the trowel back handed at Ultimat. It struck the shoulder with jarring impact, and a spurt of red blood. "Actually, I've changed my mind, you'll die now."
Ultimat didn't say anything, he just backpedaled, scrabbling with his good hand for anything behind him that would hold off the next blow. Nothing was found. Lycanthis jumped at Ultimat, and stabbed the trowel deep into the base of his throat. There was a slight gurgle as the gardener fell back, his hands reaching towards his throat.
Lycanthis picked up Zycarus, and wiped it off on the gardener's clothes. Most of the blood came off, but the sword would no longer glow as before. There were stains of the running blood on the blade. Blood of the other members of the Dianid. Lycanthis noted this with a grunt, sheathed the sword and strode out of the room to hear if his troops had met with success. Tellor, the only other to know the truth, wouldn't survive the night.
****
After he ran from the room, Tellor went upstairs to collect Weed. As he ran, he noticed that Lycanthis did a very thorough job of leaving no one who could support Tellor. All his guards were dead, most seemed to have been struck down defenseless. Tellor swore that if he survived, Lycanthis would pay. He came to the room where Weed was, and woke the boy.
"Captain Tellor! Where's Ultimat!?"
"Quiet, boy. And listen. Ultimat is probably dead, and the Lord and Lady Lapthalla are definitely dead. You are the last Lapthalla, and we need to get you to safety. And the closest thing to safety in this damned city is in the garden. Once there, you'll have to find a hiding place for us both."
"But sir! I...this..." Tears started to well up in Weed's eyes.
"There's no time for crying boy, we've got to get out of here. We'll head out the side door, where you and Ultimat usually go in the mornings. Can you help me do that?"
Weed nodded his head and wiped away a few tears. They started off, and occasionally passed a window with a view of the city. There were guards everywhere surrounding the house, with flaming torches and weapons at ready. Weed shuddered each time he saw them. They reached the door, and Tellor drew Weed aside. "Now Weed, this is going to be difficult. The only weapon I have on me is a knife, and an entire contingent of the Elfin High Guard is outside. This will not be easy."
"Yes sir."
"Wee need to be fast, silent, and blend in with the garden. We'll have a run across open ground for the first 20 yards..."
"Yes sir, if you can get me to the garden, I know of places where we can hide, and where no one can find us."
"Good lad. Those first 20 yards I'll carry you, that way we can get there all the faster. Understand?"
"Yes sir."
Tellor motioned for silence, and then slowly slid the door inwards. He grabbed Weed, and carried him in his arms as if Weed were nothing more than a baby. Then he started to run.
Immediately there were shouts of warning, as the High Guards saw him. Arrows were fitted to bows, and fired. Tellor was no fool, and he zig zagged towards the garden. He was almost there when an arrow struck him in the back and he stumbled. Weed dropped from his arms, and Tellor gasped in pain.
"C'mon, sir! We can make it! "
"Go on Weed. I'll distract them. Do it. Tellor drew his knife. The arrows had stopped flying after Tellor had fallen to his knees, and the guards came closer, with cautious steps. Tellor stood up with a groan. Weed looked up and shook his head.
"No sir! Let's go!"
Tellor thought about it, and then thought about Ultimat. He had given his word, and dying with the boy not yet safe, that decided it. "You're right Weed. Let's go." They covered the remaining few yards to the garden as the High Guard shouted in anger behind them.
Weed led them here and there. Running back and forth from one bolt hole to another, until they were so deep in the forest that Tellor had lost all bearings. Between the moves, and the arrow still in his back, he was rapidly losing ability to think. Finally Weed found the hole he was looking for, and they settled in to wait. Tellor wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Weed, where exactly is the arrow located in my back?"
Weed looked at him in alarm. "Captain, can't you feel it?"
"No Weed. All the feeling in my back has been lost. Or at least singular feeling has. It feels like its on fire, the whole back."
Weed looked at Tellor's back. "Sir, its stuck right below your shoulder blade."
Tellor knew he wasn't going to make it out of the city with all the High Guard mobilized. More than likely Lycanthis had told them to look specifically for him. With that and his pain, he knew that Weed would have to settle into the fugitive's life.
"Weed, listen to me. I'm not going to make it through this garden. You've got to make it on your own..." Tellor groaned as he shifted into a sitting position.
Weed looked frightened. He shook his head, and tears began to flow. "But I can't sir! I can't leave the city! Or the garden! I don't know anything else!"
Tellor grunted. "True enough, Weed. But know this: if a man can live with himself, that's the only company that he'll ever need."
"I don't understand..."
"You will. Soon enough. You need to leave the elflands. Too many people know that you were Ultimat's helper. They'll be looking for you soon enough. Especially with Lycanthis hunting you. It will be difficult Weed, do you think you can do it?"
"I can try sir. But you can come with me! We'll see you away!"
Tellor knew the truth, and tried his best to explain it to Weed. "No Weed. Lycanthis knows that I'm a threat. Its best if I die tonight, or am captured, that way he might leave off looking for you. He thinks that I'm the only one alive that knows what happened in the mansion tonight. You have got to survive to carry on the truth."
"But..."
"No buts Weed, can you do it?"
"I'll try sir."
"That's all I can expect."
Silence fell on the garden for a time, as Tellor had Weed break the arrow off. Tellor laid down on his side and tried to clear his mind. Then a thought occurred to him. "Weed come here. How will you fit in the outside world, outside the garden?"
"Ultimat taught me a lot about growing things sir, I think I could just work on a farm or something sir."
"But with the upset between elves and humans, I don't think that is possible with how you look now."
"How can I change the way I look?"
"Come here. This will hurt, and it will probably scar. But if I do this, you can fit in anywhere, even among the enemies of the elves."
"It'll hurt? But..."
"Listen to me, Weed. If you want to survive, you'll allow this. Do you want to survive?"
"Yes..."
"Do you want to make sure the truth is known about what Lycanthis has done?"
"Yes..."
"Then you'll allow me to do this, regardless of pain?"
"What is it sir? What will you do?"
"I'm going to slice your ears."
Weed's eyes widened. Before he could move, Tellor grabbed him and pinned him down. Even though his struggles cause Tellor's wound to flare with pain, Tellor knew that this was the only way to make sure that he survived. With a few swipes of his knife, Weed's ears were unrecognizable as either elf or human. Weed's screams echoed in the garden.
"There, Weed. I've done all I can for you."
Weed lashed out with his feet and caught Tellor in the face, stunning him. Weed ran off into the woods, sobbing and crying. Tellor could hear the thump and crash of brush as the High Guard closed in on the source of the noise. He knew he'd have to make a stand to stop them from tracking Weed.
"DAMN LYCANTHIS!!!" He yelled. He stood up and walked to a clearing. He yelled various other obscenities about the High Guard, Lycanthis and elves in general to draw the guards. Soon the clearing was surrounded by a ring of light, as the guards closed in. Tellor assumed a defensive stance with his knife, glittering with Weed's blood, held in his good hand.
There wasn't much skill involved in his death, but the High Guard did dispatch him with efficiency, as they fell on him all at once.