Treason

Caellia awoke from her deep sleep slowly. Yawning, she stretched and looked around the room looking for Nathavin. Not seeing Nathavin anywhere, she slowly stood up and went to the nearest window and looked outside. Most of the valley she could see was in shadow, which meant that the sun had already dipped well behind the castle. She had slept for much of the day and she doubted that there was much sunlight left in the day.

Throwing on a light robe, she caught sight of herself in the full length mirror that Nathavin had brought in for her. Although she was not normally one who would take notice of herself in a mirror over-much, she stopped this time and simply looked at herself. Her hands trailed down to her belly and lightly caressed it as she thought of the coming infant. What would it look like? Would the child be a boy or a girl? Would it have her pale blonde hair and his dark coloring? Or possibly her light coloring and the long black tresses that she’d seen on so many dark elven women? As she continued to think on the possibilities her eyes lost focus and she simply stood in front of the mirror with her hands resting protectively on her belly, unconsciously guarding her unborn child.

So lost in her thoughts, she didn’t hear Nathavin slip quietly into the room. Seeing her dressed in only the light gown he’d helped her into earlier in the day and a nearly sheer robe and cradling her belly, a rush of protectiveness swept over him. Coming up behind her, he drew her into an embrace and folded his hands over hers on her stomach. He squeezed her hands lightly in a comforting and reassuring way as his eyes focused on her stomach where their child lay growing.

“How did you sleep?” He asked her, enjoying the way she leaned into him and lightly tilted her head to the side to rub her forehead against his cheek.

“I slept well.” She answered him truthfully. A moment of silence passed between them before she inquired how the rest of the battle plans had gone. She listened in patient silence as he filled her in on what she had missed. He finished by telling her that they were going to wait for Asadar to attack the castle rather than mount an attack on Aden. Attacking Aden would be too costly in terms of lives that would be lost in such an attack. It was far better to force Asadar to come to Goddard where he would be at a severe disadvantage as his forces would be completely vulnerable to attack with no real protection.

“Caellia,” he started slowly while tightening his hold fractionally, knowing that what he said next would not be received well by her. “When Asadar attacks the castle, I want you to be down below…” He didn’t get any further.

Tensing up angrily, she pulled out of his grasp and turned to face him fully. “You mean where you kept me imprisoned from Goryn?”

Nathavin bit his tongue hard at the mention of the dead King. Instead he forged ahead with what he had been saying before she’d interrupted him. “That chamber is the most well protected area of the entire castle. It is the furthest away from any point of entry into or out of the castle…”

“It is a prison cell!” She spat back at him, incensed that he would even be bringing that horrible room up for discussion. “Don’t think I don’t know what that room was originally intended for Nathavin!” Her eyes flashed at him angrily as she continued. “That room was specifically designed to keep a person, no, a prisoner, isolated and cut off from any outside contact what-so-ever! Indefinite solitary confinement!” She stepped closer to him in her fury and stared up into his eyes. “That is worse than banishment Nathavin. That is torture.”

Nathavin stared down at her for a long moment before stating in a very quiet voice, memories of what he’d done in the recent past to Hontas, along with other painful memories that were not so recent, floating in his mind. “No Caellia. That is not torture. Being locked in that chamber forever with no outside contact would be as a paradise to some compared to what I have seen.” And have been responsible for, he thought to himself. “You have never seen or experienced torture, and you never will.”

            Her anger vanished as she realized that he wore the same haunted expression he had in the dark elven lands.  “Nathavin, what happened in your homelands?”

            Nathavin shook his head and turned her around to face the mirror again, positioning his hands protectively over her stomach. “Nothing you should worry yourself over.” He lapsed into silence for a short while. “Promise me Caellia.” He said softly, “Promise me that if things should take a turn for the worst, that you will leave the castle. Go to the dark elven homelands. You will be safe there. Both of you.”

            She tensed and with some effort turned and faced him. “I promise Nathavin, that I won’t leave you here alone.” He began to protest and she cut him off. “No. I won’t leave you alone as I left Goryn. I won’t.”  Leaning up she gave him a quick kiss before pulling back and staring into his eyes. “I will not abandon you when you need me most. You are my husband, never will I abandon you.” Placing her arms around his waist, she rested her forehead on his chest as she relaxed into him, the matter settled as far as she was concerned. 

            The two stood quietly in the silent bedchamber for a very long time, taking comfort in one another for as long as they could. They each knew that when the attack came, there was no guarantee that the castle, or its inhabitants, could survive the onslaught.

***** 

            Asadar looked around at the fierce faces of his commanders and generals. “Are we ready?” He asked coldly.

            “We are.” The general standing closest to him replied. The human rearranged his heavy armor so that it rested more comfortably against him before picking up his sword and shield. “You have only to give the order and we will move out.”

            Asadar looked out over the balcony and silently regarded the large fighting force that had been amassing for days. Among the many human warriors and mages, he could see the odd troop of a couple of dwarves and a rather large group of orcs. His face split into a small grin. The orcs had turned against Lord Nathavin and had defected to Aden. They would be useful.

            His gaze swung around the other direction and caught sight of the Kamael troops that Yaran and Ardista had procured. The wings made them highly visible in the seething mass of bodies. Asadar smirked. The more visible they were, then the more likely they would be to be killed first.

            All appeared to be in order. With a dark laugh, Asadar gave the word for his forces to head out for Goddard Castle. Glancing at his most senior General, he smirked. “We should reach the castle in only a few days. I want to hit them just before dawn.”

            The general smiled in return. “We will.”

            Down on the ground, far from Asadar and his watchful General, the orcs looked at one another. Speaking in their own distinctive language of grunts, they discussed their battle plans, not bothering to keep their voices low. None of the humans could understand their language. Laughing and guffawing mightily, they clapped a few of the humans on the back and spoke to them while making harmless slashing movements with their weapons, killing invisible enemies, which their human counterparts assumed were dark elven forces.

            Pumped up with the thoughts of the impending victorious battle over Goddard, the humans joined in the orcs fun.

            The orcs looked on in amusement and continued to encourage confidence in the troops. It was amusing to them how none of Asadar’s forces questioned the fact that they had not once spoken in the language understood by the humans.

            One of the human mages became a bit too enthusiastic in telling how it was going to be him that killed the dark elven Lord. What was supposed to be only a small fireball became a roaring inferno that surrounded one of the orcs that he had decided would fill the part of the elven Lord.

            The orc that had been surrounded in fire looked at the human for a brief moment before stomping over to him. He frowned down at the sorcerer long enough to make the mage uncomfortable. After a moment he then smiled and laughed in loud bellows while clapping the poor man on the back in what appeared to be good natured camaraderie.

            Stumbling forward under the force of the blows, the mage released a breath of relief. For a moment the thought the orc was going to attack him.

            As the orc watched the mage scurry off, he spoke in his language to his companions. “When we reach the castle, that one is mine to kill.” The other orcs laughed and agreed. To their further amusement, the humans still traveling with them whooped and hollered in agreement, although it was plainly clear that they had no idea what they were agreeing with.