The Paladins of Naretia

Chapter 27

Chaos erupted and within minutes, a legion of elves with drawn bows, surrounded Sudia. As the closest person to the turning elf, Aramus had drawn his weapon too and readied himself for an attack. With little warning she spread her claws wide and took a swipe at Aramus, catching him across his face as he ducked. Olórin saw black blood pour from the cut on his cheek as he backed away from the shifting, writhing form of Sudia. Whatever motivated her in the midst of the agonising, bloating of muscles and bones, it seemed to have focused all of her viciousness on Aramus as she swung at him time, and time again. The young man ducked and dived away from her attacks, only barely avoiding the talons that came for his neck. Forearm length claws ricocheted off his sword, but they did not break against the sharpened metal.

Panicked, Olórin rummaged through his hat and produced his staff, but there were too many elves in the way to take aim. He only occasionally caught glimpses of the battle between the silvery heads that stood in front of him.

"Out of my way," he heard Aria shout.

Beside him he watched the young queen, now armed with her golden sword, try to push past the elves. But they refused to move, and both he and Aria were kept out of reach at the point of many arrows.

"This is not your concern," one of them hissed at her. "She is an elf and will be dealt with by elves only."

"Well, what are you waiting for then? Kill her," Aria screamed, panic and concern clearly audible in her voice as it reached pitches Olórin had never heard before.

Not a single arrow was let fly as Sudia and Aramus fought. A wide swing of his sword clipped Sudia's right ear and Olórin was horrified to see part of it now missing. Grey blood ran down the side of her deforming face, bleeding into the white linen clothes that stretched across her bulging form. Through the row of newly protruded sharp teeth, she howled with pain and cupped her ear with her hand.

"Mirathall, please," Olórin said to the Elder, who was contently observing the fight beside him. "Whatever it is you need to do, please do it quickly before she hurts Aramus."

"We must see if she is capable of reasonable thought," Mirathall replied, keeping her eyes fixed on the battle. "If her mind is still intact, then there is a chance we can save her. But if she should turn and fight her own people, despite being out numbered, then she is without reason and is lost to us. At that time, and only then, she will be killed. As of yet she seems to be only attacking Aramus. Perhaps there is a reason behind her actions?"

Panic rose up in Olórin's chest as he watched Sudia's powerful arm strike Aramus across his head, sending him careening into the ancient tree. Aramus tried to stand up again, but his legs went from under him and he crumpled to the floor.

"The only reason she's attacking him is because she must be under the influence of Dantet," Olórin shouted at Mirathall. It was the first time in nearly two hundred years that he had raised his voice to the point where it hurt his throat, and Mirathall seemed taken aback by it. "His father wants him dead and she is merely following his orders. I will not allow you to risk his life for a hypothesis."

Olórin's voice must have been louder than he thought because the nearest elves all turned to face him, as did their arrows. The fear he felt for his young friend, and the anger at the elves moronic need to weigh everything until all that remained was a neat bundle of black and white, saw him raise his staff and forcibly part the sea of elves in front of him. The elves didn't like to be defied and arrows zipped through the air in his direction. Olórin misdirected them all with a wave of his staff. Silver-haired warriors came after him and Aria with swords drawn, but they too found themselves sailing through the air in the same direction as the arrows.