Into Lands Forbidden (The Elfmaid Trilogy Book 2) Read online

  "Is that why you suddenly left town?" Then more menacing, Danica stepped forward. "And took my horse."

  "Your horse? Yes, that I did. I saw you taking that noblewoman into a Slave House while I was escorting a poor lonely wench home. Thinking it must be a mistake, for I knew you weren't no common slaver, I waited for you to come out and explain yourself. But when you finally came out, you made a circular motion with your hand and a large black whirlpool, or hole, or something, appeared before you. Before I could call out, you stepped through and were gone."

  "Magic," Danica and Cat said together, Cat making signs against evil.

  "Yes, imagine my shock," Carl said. "Then remembering an old witch back in the tavern, I hurried back and she used your armor to determine that you weren't in the city any longer. She couldn't tell me anything else."

  "So you took my horse and came here?"

  "Yes, but I stopped in Dakkor and Drakehorn Castle first," he said. "If you weren't here in Allaria, I'd have had to give up the search."

  "I understand," she said, grateful he had put as much effort into it as he did. Most warriors would have shrugged and gone their own way. "But I'm afraid you might be getting yourself into more trouble. Before you agree to help me, think this over. Talar's enemies are powerful. Very powerful."

  "They are led by Ayesha," Cat said. "And she is only one of many mages scattered all over the Jarlands."

  "The High Mage of Allaria?" At Danica's nod, "Bloody rotten luck that."

  "Exactly, she's very dangerous," Danica said. Nodding at Cat, "If it wasn't for Cat, she would have killed me last week. And I had a god-given talisman in the fight."

  Carl appeared to think on that a moment, chewing nervously on his long mustaches. Despite his bravado, he held a healthy respect for wizards. He and Danic had tangled with several in their various adventures together. Though they always won, some of their victories had been close things indeed.

  "Well, wench, I do see one wee bit of a problem," Carl said at length. "The Wizard Talar and I had words yesterday afternoon, and I don't think he'll want me around. So how will I protect him?"

  "We've already discussed this with him," she said. "He has agreed to it, though reluctantly." She shrugged. "I think he's more than a little worried after his last battle with Ayesha."

  "And the four assassination attempts in the last week," Cat added. "That's what we're especially concerned with. He can probably handle the magical assaults, but hired blades have a way of getting past any mage's wards."

  "Yes, that I know," he said, winking at Cat. "Me and Danic are quite accomplished at it ourselves."

  Cat frowned, worry showing though, "I hope so. We'll need all the help we can get in the Empire."

  "We'll be fine," Danica said, then turned back to Carl. "You'll have to be wary, my friend. Talar's enemies are powerful and resourceful."

  "Fear not, wench, I will be ever vigilant," he assured her. "No one will kill Talar or cause serious injury to your precious body." Then, running an appreciative hand down over her long golden tresses and stopping on her rump, he continued. "Though by my way of figuring, this new body is far more precious."

  Tiny fingers of panic gripped her at his touch, but Danica steadfastly refused to bolt out of his reach. Inwardly cursing Tyrians' need to touch and feel everything that catches their eye, she forcefully pushed his hand away and gave him her most steely gaze.

  "How would you like to have your eyes gouged out?"

  Cat said, "She doesn't have much of a sense of humor about her condition. Personally, I think she should be grateful for the chance to see how the other half lives." With a wicked grin she continued, "I guess all that time as a Jordani slave soured her on being a woman."

  "Cat!" Danica screamed.

  "A slave on the Steppes!" Carl cried, looking startled. He was well aware of the constant abuse, both physical and sexual, a slave in that culture endured. But his shock lasted for just a second, then he roared with laughter. "Blood of the Gods! Danica, a Jordani love toy! Wait till Lucas and Paul hear of this!"

  Face burning in shame she averted her eyes, "It w-wasn't what that sewer of a brain of yours is thinking. They're afraid of elves. Besides, I convinced them I was cursed, and sex with me would destroy their clan."

  She glanced at Cat. There was just that one time, before she put the fear of a curse in their hearts. Would Cat correct her in front of Carl? Thankfully, Cat's face and demeanor remained calm.

  Carl sobered a little, but only shrugged.

  "That nasty little fact won't tarnish the tale, wench," he said and gave her a wink.

  "If you remember to include it," Danica said darkly, casting murderous looks at Cat.

  Carl simply grinned.

  "There is another problem for you as well," Danica said, averting her eyes. "Maeve is missing."

  "Maeve?" Carl said, taken aback by this change of subject.

  "Though it's hard to believe, Maeve really is a sorceress of unknown power. She saved my life with her magic, but disappeared the next day. She was trying to capture a Goblin and steal his Gift."

  "Bandu Invincible! She's a fool!" Carl cried.

  "And we've been looking all over for her ever since," Cat said. "If she succeeded then she failed to tell anyone, and if she failed to capture the Goblin..."

  "Then she's dead," Carl said. He fretted a moment, then sighed. "Maeve's fate is her own concern, though I for one hope she is well. She's such a fun wench."

  Danica nodded. Cat stared at both in horror.

  "Don't you care what happened to her? Maeve is your friend, and your kin. Her fate is our concern as well," Cat said, looking back and forth between them.

  Carl looked surprised, but Danica looked hurt.

  "You are right. I will continue the search," Carl said. "If she is well, I'll find her and let her know what we think of her callous actions."

  "Thank you, Carl. When I get back, I have a few things I want to tell her," Danica said. Like Cat, she did believe Maeve's fate was important, and she needed to be found. She also knew the crazy redhead, and Maeve rarely thought past the moment. There was a chance Maeve achieved her goal and just took off on her next adventure. "After such a dangerous adventure, I can't believe she'd go off and not let me know she was all right. It's been driving me half mad."

  "I can," Carl said. Danica shrugged. Carl shook his head, grinning. "It wouldn't be the first time she did something like that."

  "Your whole family is crazy like that," Danica said.

  With a sigh and woeful shake of her head, Cat said, "We need to leave."

  "She's right," Danica said to Carl. "Talar is meeting us at the warhawk aerie. We'll fill you in on what has happened so far on the walk over."

  A twinkle came to Carl's eyes. "But first, wench, tell ole Carl how you came to be a Jordani slave, and how you escaped."

  Danica shot Cat another hot look, then marched out of the tavern with a snort of purest disgust. Carl gave a booming laugh. Cat chuckled, then followed her out into the subtropical heat and humidity of Allaria.

  Though the actual distance to Harald's Warhawk Aerie wasn't that far, the trip from the Bloody Sword Tavern felt like a journey of epic proportions to Danica. Carl's questions were endless, and all too personal for her taste. Or pride. It was with great relief she finally stepped through the aerie's gate and headed for the launch roost through a forest of huge saddlebirds.

  As they approached, Danica eagerly looked over the two huge warhawks waiting on the launch. One was a dark brown with golden highlights, and the other a pure black bird with blood red eyes. With a grim smile, she knew the black was hers. Cat would never agree to ride such a sinister looking beast.

  Just looking at the magnificent saddlebirds gave Danica a thrill. Harald's Warhawk Aerie was filled with them. Most were similar in coloration to the golden brown bird, but a few were brightly plumed in reds, yellows, and blues. Warhawks other than black or brown were rare, requiring magic during incubation to achieve, or th
e expensive, and difficult, sorcery after hatching.

  Talar and Harald, the aerie owner, were waiting near the warhawks at the launch roost. The aerie wasn't large as such places went. It barely covered one acre, with its volatile charges perched dangerously close to each other. Each perch was a thick log laid horizontally across foot high stumps. It was surrounded on three sides by ramshackle tenements and separated from the street by a high wooden fence.

  Danica noted the birds were already saddled and their gear stowed in bulging saddlebags. She smiled as the two men spotted their approach. Talar scowled, but Harald stared open-mouthed.

  "You!" Harald cried.

  The old warhawk trader seethed. He normally was a rather pleasant old fellow, with cheerful blue eyes and salt and pepper hair. Only a little taller than Danica, she thought he looked unusually thin. He was an old friend of Danic's, so she silently prayed he wasn't sick.

  "Leaving sooner than we figured," Danica grinned back. She then turned to look up at the huge black bird, "Ready to fly, my beauty?"

  The warhawk stretched out its wings and roared its excitement, before sending a host of tiny whirlwinds swirling about as it flapped its wings. Then half the other birds roosted in the aerie began roaring their challenges and flapping their wings. It was deafening.

  "Did you have to do that?" Cat shouted over the noise.

  Danica shrugged, pleased with the outcome. Was it her fault Cat was afraid of warhawks?

  Turning to Talar, Harald said, "You didn't tell me you were buying birds for these two."

  "It matters?" Talar asked, giving him a sharp look.

  Still not able to look at her male body without cringing, Danica kept her eyes on the black. Talar's taste in manly apparel didn't sit well with her. He favored bright colored cassocks and robes. Today he wore loose cotton pants and short boots, with a voluminous silk shirt. All bright red. His only weapon was a sword belted to his hip. His ability to use the blade rivaled Danica's, having stolen her talents along with the body.

  "You're still upset about the birds we sold you last week," Danica said, frowning. They had sold him their warhawks rather than pay the high roosting fees. He had been rather miffed that the birds were overworked and underfed. "We're sorry, but we didn't have the coin to take proper care of them, but Talar has taken care of that." She patted a heavy leather pouch hanging off her belt. "He gave us more than enough coin to maintain them in our journey."

  "Besides," Talar said, giving the aerie owner a disapproving look, "I've already paid for them." Before Harald could respond, he turned to Carl, "So we meet again."

  Danica noticed Harald's confusion. He knew Danic and Carl were the best of friends, but were acting like they didn't know each other. On top of that, Danic changed his name to Talar and dressed and acted differently. She shook her head woefully, feeling sorry for the old man.

  "Yes we do," Carl said, looking him over critically. "Danica has bade me to protect you from your enemies, and yourself. That I will do for my friend."

  "I can always use a little more security," he said. "But, barbarian, stay out of my way."

  Carl just snorted and crossed his arms before turning to study the warhawks. "They look like fine mounts, my friend."

  "I agree," Danica said, walking around the black before turning to Talar. "How many days rations do we have?"

  "Five."

  "More than enough to reach the Amazon Empire, and then Celia," she said then turned to Cat. "Well? You ready to go?"

  Looking at the towering warhawk with dread, cat nodded. "I guess."

  "Friend, Cat," Carl said. "Is there a problem?"

  "She always feels like dinner beside a warhawk," Danica said before she could respond. "She'll be all right soon enough."

  Giving Cat a friendly backslap, which knocked most of her breath out, Carl laughed, "Fear not, wench. Warhawks almost never eat their masters."

  Cat looked at Danica with huge eyes.

  "Almost never? Danica, you said..."

  "Don't listen to him," Danica said, giving the laughing barbarian a dark look. "He's joking, in his own perverse way."

  "You're wasting time," Talar said. "I do not care to listen to your asinine jokes while my sister languishes in the clutches of our enemies."

  Danica grunted and stepped behind the black warhawk. She scrambled up the hemp and dowel saddle ladder hanging from the cantle and settled into the large saddle. It was much like a horse's war saddle, with high pommel and cantle. To her right, strapped to the saddle, was a tooled leather bow case with one of the short, powerful bows of the steppe nomads. They were a favorite of warhawk riders, called Hawkers, and horsemen alike. To her left were two quivers of arrows, and there was a bundle of five javelins tied to the back of the cantle. There were three brackets also on the back of the cantle, one on each end and one in the middle, for displaying unit or personal guidons and pennons. She and Cat had none, since they didn't particularly want to draw attention to themselves.

  Strapping herself in with the wide safety strap, she pulled up the hemp and dowel ladder and secured it. When Cat was settled into her saddle, and had secured herself and her ladder, Danica turned back to the three men below.

  "Carl, you know what to do," she called down as she pushed soft rubber plugs into her ears. Without the plugs the constant thunderous rush of air would drive a person mad on a long journey. "Don't let the bastard hurt himself. We'll be back soon enough." Then she turned her attention to Talar, "You just be careful."

  Talar only frowned.

  Danica looked at Cat, "Ready?"

  "Yes."

  In a commanding voice, Danica cried, "Fly!"

  Her warhawk spread its wings with a roar and leapt high into the air. She felt the familiar thrill as it raced ever higher on snapping wings. Glancing back, she watched Cat take-off and follow. At about three hundred feet, she ordered the bird into a northwesterly direction and decreased its ascent to a more comfortable grade.

  Warhawks possessed the intelligence of a five year old child and were guided by voice commands. They could understand most of what was said around them. They would follow their last command until another order was given, or something unusual distracted it. Like wild game below. Again like a child, they were easily distracted. But few warhawks were as difficult to manage as a child, trusting in their human masters much like a child did a parent.

  As they flew away, Danica glanced back with misgivings. Just over a week ago, ten days, she and Cat had flown in reasonably confident in their ability to reclaim her stolen body. The familiar swamp city seemed a godsend to her then. Its thick walls encompassing islands big and small crowded with buildings, palaces, and fortresslike Merchant Houses. The main island, Allaria Island, had been a sight to behold. It had all given her renewed hope that she would soon be returned to normal, to her old body.

  And now she was Talar's slave in all but name. The oath she had given had bound her to him. Bound as she was by her sacred oath, and an even deeper, desperate need to recover her male body, she felt worse than a slave to him. Now she and Cat were slavishly serving the black-hearted mage, with no real, binding promise of the eventual return of her male body. And after their last encounter with High Mage Ayesha, she wondered if any of them would live to worry about it.

  Looking ahead, she didn't know if she wanted to laugh or cry. On the other side of the distant mountains waited the Amazon Empire. A place forbidden to men. A place she had never even considered going to in the past. Now she was heading there in search of the Sorceress Monique. All Danica knew was that it would be extraordinarily difficult to find one women, sorceress or otherwise, inside that vast empire. A task she and Cat were oath bound to complete, or die in the attempt.

  Chapter 2

  Carl silently watched Danica and Cat flying away, until they were nothing more than specks. Here he’d spent the better part of five months searching for his lost friend, only to find that he was in a far worse situation than he could have ever imagined. Then
his friend up and flew away to unknown dangers and they’d only shared a bare thirty minutes together.

  "If you're quite finished," Talar said, not hiding his annoyance or contempt. "I've got better things to do than stand out here and watch an empty sky."

  Just wait till you no longer have me friend's body to hide inside, Carl thought darkly. Then I'll be looking you up, that I guarantee.

  But all he said was, "Lead on, wizard."

  Talar hesitated, looking him over carefully, then turned on his heel and strode away. Carl thought he noticed the barest hint of fear in the wizard's eyes. Though it pleased him, it was not good to scare a wizard. They were a particularly paranoid lot. You could be found floating face down in the harbor very quickly if one thought you were a threat. Carl would be careful.

  They arrived soon enough at the wizard's new home, deep in the heart of the city's Allaria Island. It stood alone, with streets or alleys on all sides. It was as secure as it got in Allaria.

  As they approached, Carl noticed armed and armored men atop the three story mansion and at the main entrance. From his earlier visit, he knew more men patrolled the perimeter in small groups. He’d seen palaces with less protection. He was at once impressed and worried about why such a supposedly powerful wizard needed so much armed protection.

  Talar gave some small signal with one hand, a password Carl decided, and they were allowed to pass without being challenged. Inside, a whip thin man with wild eyes hurried over to them.

  "My Lord, Sir Jaram and Lord Zalik have been murdered," he blurted out, wringing bony hands.

  Talar reached for his hilt, hissing in his anger at the skittish messenger. The servant, who appeared to be that of a gentleman’s manservant, turned even whiter as the remaining blood rushed from his face. Carl thought he was going to pass out.

  "How? Where?" Talar demanded, making the messenger cringe. "Tell me, man. Who killed your lord?"

  "I don't know, my Lord," he nearly babbled. "We were set upon by a score or more of the vilest looking men I've ever seen. My Lord and Sir Jaram fought valiantly, and I thought they might carry the day, but a lightning bolt from small red-headed sorceress struck them down." He stopped to compose himself, "The bravos were so stunned by the lightning, I managed to slip away unnoticed."