The Rangers of Aleera

Chapter 4

Ainnileas slowly awoke. He could feel the warmth of a fire nearby. How long had he been out? His last memory was of the warrior woman stopping and drawing her bow. Had she actually carried him to where they were camped now? She had slung him over her shoulder when his strength had begun to fail him. Or had she? She must have been stronger than she looked. He wasn't a light burden, he knew. He turned his head towards the fire. The woman was seated next to it, tending to a gash on her left arm. She didn't flinch as she stitched the wound closed. Now that there was firelight, he could see her clearer. She was clad in greenish-brown leather armor that left her arms bare. On her hands were gloves that left her fingers exposed and covered most of her forearms. They stopped a couple inches from her elbow. Both they and her boots were the same color as her armor. Her bow, quiver, and swords lay on the ground next to her. A dagger was sheathed at her thigh and he was sure it had a mate on the other thigh. His eyes moved upward. A long brown braid hung behind her as she worked. At this angle, he could see breathtaking beauty in her. But her beauty was not what was causing him to stare at her. This was no ordinary warrior woman. He was surprised to find that she wasn't even human. His rescuer was, of all creatures, an elf. There was no doubt when he'd set eyes on her ears, which tapered to a tell-tale point. Ainnileas had never seen any of her kind in the flesh. He had always viewed them as legends, stories made up to keep children from wandering into the Wilds alone. They said the elves lived in the Wilds, killing anyone who dared cross the threshold of that dark forest. He had been raised hearing the tales of the elven barbarians who had tried to take over Aleera. How their bloodlust nearly destroyed the country. If elves hated humans so much, why did she save him? If the others were elves as well, why risk everything for humans? What was an elf doing in the world of humans anyway?

"So the hero awakens," she suddenly said. "Don't stare. It's rude."

"Sorry." Ainnileas averted his gaze, a bit embarrassed that he'd been caught staring at her ears. She cut the thread that she'd been using to close her wound as he sat up. His shirt was gone and his chest, shoulder, and wrists were bandaged. She had administered to his wounds while he was unconscious before tending to herself.

"You took some nasty wounds in the fight. You're lucky to be alive."

He thanked Elohim for that.

"You've quite the skill to hold your own among Wolf Brothers," she continued.

"Thank you. I..." He looked up at her and tailed off.

She was fully facing him now. She was still sitting with her left arm draped over her right leg. She had the most beautiful grey eyes he had ever seen that seemed to see straight into his soul and her forehead was decorated with an elaborate tattoo. He hoped he didn't look as astonished as he felt. This was no mere she-elf warrior. She was a Ranger. One of Aleera's deadliest and most feared warriors.

Jelina sighed. They always had the same reaction once they noticed her ears. Ruarc had suggested that she hide them once, a suggestion he never made again. Surprise usually before they either ran her off or tried to kill her. Which was why her left hand was close to her right thigh dagger. Ranger or no, she was looked upon with fear and hate. But she'd always had Ruarc and Alistair to watch her back before when that happened. It had been a long time since it had been just she and Tristan. In fact, she couldn't remember the last time she was outside of Tearmann alone. Elves didn't venture forth from the Wilds very often, if at all, so many humans could go their entire lives without seeing one. From what she understood, there had been a great war between the elves and humans over land and dominance. Obviously, the elves lost the war and were driven into the forests of Aleera, eventually claiming the Wilds as their own. Now, an elf was rarely seen outside the Wilds and the only ones who dared to venture there were Moldovan slavers, Rangers, and Elohim Priests. As far as she knew, Jelina was the only elven Ranger.

"You're staring again."

The man was regarding her now in wide-eyed shock, no doubt seeing the tattoos clearly for the first time. It was a different reaction than she was used to. Rangers were regarded with fear because of their seemingly age-old fight against the Wolf Brothers. Many saw them as Wolf Brothers who had regained control of their minds. Which wasn't the case. Rangers were either immune or highly resistant to the curse of the Wolf Brothers, which was spread by their bite. Because of this immunity, Rangers were the only ones fearless, or insane, depending on one's point of view, enough to face them, let alone hunt them.

"I... I should have known you were a Ranger." He glanced around until he laid eyes on Tristan. The Wolfhound was lying next to the fire, bandages around his right foreleg and his middle. He'd acted like a furry baby as she tended the wounds he'd received in the fight. "No one else would dare to try to free Wolf Brothers' captives. I was sure I would die at their hands before you showed up."

"Didn't stop you from attempting to free yourself." She motioned to his wrists.

"I never said I was resigned to that fate."

"Why didn't you flee with the others? Why turn back?" She had wondered that since he'd prevented the Wolf Brother from giving her that fatal wound. Not that she wasn't grateful for his interference. Jelina wouldn't be alive if he hadn't turned back. Normally, one wouldn't stick their neck out for a Ranger. But she had the feeling that this man was different. He'd seen she was both an elf and a Ranger, but aside from staring at her, he didn't seem to care. Or he was terrified that the stories of elven barbarism were true.

Ainnileas thought about the answer to her question.

"You saved our lives," he finally said. "I knew I should have fled. I should have set my sights on getting home to my children." He stared into the fire as the she-elf moved from a sitting position to crouch next to it, adding another stick. "But when I looked back, I saw three warriors in a hopeless fight."

She stopped and slowly turned towards him. The look on her face was a mix of puzzlement and respect. "You turned back knowing it was a hopeless fight?"

"I couldn't let the three of you die without giving you the same chance you gave us." Ainnileas looked around, suddenly realizing the two men weren't around the fire. "Where are the other two?"

A look passed over her face that was a mix of sorrow, pain, and regret. "They're...," she hesitated. "They're dead." Sorrow was evident in her voice and he felt his own heart constrict at hearing it.

"I'm sorry."

She held her hand up. "Don't. You didn't know them at all. Loss is a part of life. Losing brothers is part of a Ranger's life."

"Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt any less." He thought of the day he'd lost his wife. He could tell she had been close to the two men. Their loss was not something she would easily put behind her, Ranger or not. She remained silent. "I'll be out of your way at first light. You saved my life. The least I could do was attempt to save yours. I'll make my way home when there is light enough to see my path and get my bearings."

She suddenly looked amused. "In Wolf Brother territory? Alone?"

Ainnileas paused. He hadn't thought about that.

The she-elf suddenly chuckled. "I'll know the signs better than you would. And we have Tristan," She motioned to the Wolfhound, who raised his head, "to warn us of any Wolf Brothers."

"You'd travel with me?"

"I'll be damned if my brothers died to save your arse only to have you recaptured and either turned or killed. And I'm sure your family will want to see you returned to them in one piece."

"Yes, they would." He held out his hand. "The name's Ainnileas."

She clasped his hand and they shook. "Jelina."