Regrets

by Elvair (Celeglas)

I was too young, too arrogant, and I should never have allowed her near that place....what did I have to prove to her, that I could kill some demon? It wouldn't have pleased her any had I handed her his head, victorious on the battlefield.

And certainly, if she'd said she was having my child she'd have never been near there. Perhaps our child would have been fit for the throne, she's ruled over a thousand years, certainly she could have seen the child mature to take her place, if only it had been me that had died instead.

What was it that I was thinking? Would it have been any better had I died? Would I have left the queen berefit, without heir, without her love? Better that she died than I did, that she didn't have to suffer like I was now.

My mind kept turning in knots, and I could not sleep. I had exhausted my steed and sent it back to Citadel, to continue on by foot, stumbling blindly through the woods, a madman for certain. I had no idea where I was going, until I was there.

The sight was a painful truth to my spoiled eyes, and a splash of reality to see it before me. Makeshift tents, small smoky campfires with little light and less warmth, bedraggled peasants, wearing as much dirt as clothes, and rags to bind minor wounds. My trained eye scanned and noticed that there were no cripples in the camp. But eyes were pained and afraid, the elves stumbled tiredly around giving each other food drink and comfort while I watched them. Then an eye fell on me, seeing me in the margin of the wood where I stood, perhaps as filthy and bedraggled as they were.

The peasant's spine stiffened, and she bolted upright to an alert posture. "My lord...my eyes are joyed to greet thee, is there anything we may do for you?" She rushed to curtsy before me, and others looked up at me and followed suit.

They did not know who I was, they only had to know what I was, a Sidhe, and I must have looked next to death, they brought me watered down wine and sweetcakes and apologized for the sparse fare they offered. I could not refuse to eat, although I thought my stomache would burst, both unused to the quality of their food and having not eaten or drank much for days. I managed to eat enough to satisfy them that I would recover from whatever ailment they imagined me harboring, and a lithe young runner came to me, a young male elf lad wearing browns and greens to blend into the forest, which stood out in camp as being gayly colored compared to the rags and dirt of the people.

"Master Lupei is ready to meet with you, sir, if you would please follow me I will bring you to the watchtower."

"Watchtower?" I asked hoarsely, rolling over the thought in my mind that I was perhaps finally going to meet my elusive father.

"It is the Madame Andreez stone home, on the tall hill yonder. She gave it to Lupei and the princess."

"If I may be so blunt, tell me how fares Nightwind, then." I noted the absence of mentioning Andreez gift was actually to Nightwind who was leading these forces. It was customary not to mention the names of people dead or close to death in casual conversation, to not bring up a painful topic. I needed to know, however.

"I am not privy to the counsels of military leaders, sir, however news around the camp is that she is not responding, she is not eating, and her body is hard put to fight for life."

I scanned the camp again, realizing how much harder this must be for farmers, tanners, hunters, businesspeople, who were not trained for a life of battle. To have a leader with a knack for tactics, with good advisors is a true blessing to these people. Much of the wear on the folk bustling around the camp was probably masking concern for both their leader and their families, freedom and homelands.

"Thank you, my friend. Could you please take me to the watchtower now?" I asked.

"Gladly," he brightened. "Please come this way."

I followed the young lad between the tents and saw more evidence of exhausted fighters under tent flies, chipped and worn weaponry, nothing spectacular. Farming equipment, old swords, staves, makeshift spears and maces. "May I have your name, friend?"

"Clipper, sir" he responded.

"Call me 'Silver'. I will have to send some equipment for the warriors here."

"That would be most kind of you. I think the warriors would most like time, if you have any to spare, though. With attacks both night and day, we've grown very tired down here. I think most of us would like a good night's sleep, sir."

I laughed, and it was the first laugh I'd had in days. The thought of sleep was absurd, but I understood what he meant. "We're doing what we can to get everyone more sleep."

"Sir, are the rumors true, about what happened up North?"

"Probably. It's not a good time to talk about that."

The lad was sharp, he was silent until we arrived at the low stone and timber house that was given the grand title of "watchtower" in times like this, in a place where rags were serving as armor, and rakes as tridents. Or perhaps the silence was unfortunate; it gave me the time to think more about meeting my father. I might have been better off talking in some vague terms of recent events in the North.

"Master Lupei, I bring you Master Silver from the North," Clipper announced upon our entry through the wooden door.

Nightwind

Brenhani