Half-Faye

Chapter 15

Ridel’s P.O.V.

I watched as the faye walked out of the surrounding woods towards what I suspected the clearing behind me. The tallest was an elf, his slight build hunched over a blade at his waist. Two others accompanying him were faerys and meandering behind them was a troll. Distaste welled up in my mouth. Trolls were filth and the thought that the faye were using him made me sick.

Each of them, even the troll, wore only leather armour and had both swords and bows within their reach in the case of the elf and the faerys. I avoided any eye contact with the group as they stopped in front of me. I refused to let myself be overcome with fear. I was going to get both Florence and I out of this mess. It was fault in the first place. I had been careless.

My heart flutter as the memories arose to the front of my clouded mind. I was too ashamed to admit how I felt at that point and like any warrior in my position I did not let it distract me further.

The shortest faery spoke first in his wheezy voice, “how do you know it’s her?”

His wings twitched as he looked at the elf, whose head remained bowed. I watched with curiosity. I needed to get to the bottom of this.

It was the other faery who answered, “Yeah,” he shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers, “she could be any mongrel off the streets sneaking away with one of the guards.”

I stopped playing helpless; I raised my head to glare at the man with a mixture of hate and revulsion. He smiled back at me with a toothless mouth. These were the kind of faye you would find in taverns in the shady side of town, and I did not like it one bit. His right wing had a huge gash from the tip to the base at his shoulder only adding to this look.

The elf drew himself up to full height as he replied, “No,” I shivered as his voice ran through me; “She’s the one.”

The toothless faery grinned again looking deep into my eyes. If I had the chance I would have duelled him then and there. No one should question a knight’s honour.

“If you say so,” he said looking up to the elf, “You there,” he directed the troll, “bring us the boy.”

I felt like spitting at the trolls feet as he clambered towards me. He gave a grunt of acknowledgement to the toothless faye and came towards me with a hungry glint in his eyes. The elf and his companions gave me one last look before they began to walk away.

Instead of spitting at the troll I spat a mouth full of blood towards the elf. It splashed the bottom his cloak and in that instant he had spun around, muttered something under his breath and was gone. As soon as he had finished muttering I felt as though I had winded, I let out a moan and then the trolls club came down heavy on my head and for the second time that day I slumped unconscious in the ropes binding me.

Also, for the second time, I woke up in an unfamiliar place. I was once again bound to a tree by my wrists and feet. I could tell that the ropes were enchanted and therefore impossible for me break free. I might be a great swordsman, but I knew very little magic. I could feel bruises beginning to blossom on my stomach where the elf’s spell hit me and a lump forming on the side of me head where the trolls club found its mark. I opened my eyes slowly. I was able to make out that I was in another clearing of some kind. I could not make out the sky above and guessed that this was a much deeper part of the forest. Another thing I took note of was how I was surrounded by all sides by an assortment of faye. Two trolls lurked on the outskirts, facing into the dark trees and holding their clubs menacingly. The two faerys from before were sitting by a fire, sharpening their blades with stones. The toothless one grinned up at me, a steely glint in my eye. It made me sick to think that as a royal guard I was working to protect the likes of him.