The Prince's Mark

The Road to Dezmer - Twenty Seven

Eternities trickled by, but eventually Mirthal heard voices in the distance. This noise threatened to drown out the silent Ergakan.

Mirthal placed a hand on his sword, fiddling with the hilt. So much of his time had been spent swinging it around, but to what end? Had that time been wasted? He still knew the bow better, despite Pendaer having made the one he had. But he wanted to use the sword. A sword would allow him to take center stage, to rush in like someone awe-inspiring. He took his bow and quiver off of his back and laid them on the ground next to him, so he wouldn't bumble around knocking into them when going for the sword.

Soon, the voices became more distinct. Mirthal peered out around the corner of the house and saw a mass of humanity drifting towards Ergakan.

Most of them spoke Winlean, making it easy to zero in on the two speaking Aodehsh.

"Yes, if you continue on this road you'll get to their horrible little capital in under a week," Pendaer said.

Another voice, deep and smooth, replied. "Good. Do they have horses in this upcoming village?"

"Not enough for everyone here. Dezmek don't use beasts of labor, you see. The only dezmek who need horses are those who travel without wagons."

"Mm, that is rather unfortunate. Did you have a horse before they captured you?"

"I did. I hope to wrest it from their tiny hands."

"It's impossible to deal with them when they have magic, isn't it? They've dominated the seas for so long, keeping us from using it as we see fit... But with this powder, they're helpless. We've captured many of their ships."

"Have you? Serves them right."

Whatever Pendaer had told them, they had accepted as the truth. Mirthal couldn't tell if Pendaer had some latent acting ability or if his distaste for dezmek made him more believable.

"Why did they capture you?" another voice asked. This one sounded younger. It tickled something in Mirthal's mind, something important.

Pendaer let out a long sigh, sounding to Mirthal like he was trying to buy himself some time.

"I was working in Shalen at the time as a merchant. One dezmek, the lord here, wanted something I was selling for an outrageous price... I refused, naturally. The next thing I knew I woke up restrained on a wagon that was moving without a horse."

"That is frightening."

"Dezmek are no better than animals, really. Their ability to use magic makes them think that they're invincible, like they can do anything they want, but you don't see elves acting like that."

Mirthal winced. Humans didn't praise elves out of the blue. Pendaer might be able to pass for a human, considering his hidden ears, disguised height, and his relatively muscular body, but slip-ups like that would ruin him.

For a moment, all Mirthal could hear was Winlean.

The younger man spoke again. "Do you know much about elves?"

That voice. It meant something and if he would just speak longer, then maybe Mirthal could get a handle on it. It reminded him of bread, of all things.

"Oh, well, about as much as anyone else. They sometimes visit Shalen."

"I see."

They were getting closer now.

"This village seems abandoned..."

"They're hiding. They're worried about the dust, as they should be, so they gathered in that hovel up on the hill."