Legends of Belariath
Elspeth
It was a quietish evening at the Inn, reflected by the lack of bruises on my bottom. Katie and I had managed to easily keep up with the demands for drink and food, and the patrons' tempers had, for once, remained in check. I was just passing an empty booth when a low voice uttered “a glass of Elven Fire Wine if you please”. Despite the many surprises I have been subject to, I still jumped a bit, knowing this booth was empty. I turned slowly and saw a figure in the shadows, sitting at the back of the booth. “Elven Fire Wine? I assume you do have some?” The voice was low-pitched, a trifle husky as if not much used. “Y-yes, we do, but, er, it is rather expensive ...”, I stammered in response. The shadowy figured chuckled and moved his arm over the table, money pouch in hand, emptying a stream of mehrials across the scarred wooden surface, “would this be sufficient?”, he asked. I nodded slowly, “I'll just get you your wine, sir”. I turned to go to the bar when the soft voice spoke again, “and one for yourself”. I paused in mid-stride and turned back to face the figure reclining against the chair, “T-thank you sir, I'll have a half mug of ale”. “No,” he replied, “you'll have a glass of Fire Wine. And you'll join me.” I turned to Katie, catching her eye, mouthing “cover for me?” to her. She grinned and nodded. I smiled back, turning to scoop up a handful of coins, “thank you, that's very generous of you sir, I'll be just a moment”.
I slowly walked to the bar, wondering who this stranger was. Who would buy a simple barmaid a glass of Fire Wine? My ponderings were broken by the sound of the bar keep growling “what?”. I blinked, realising I had been standing at the bar with my empty tray, staring blankly for a while. Shaking my head, trying to cast off the cobwebs, “sorry Lord, two glasses of Fire Wine please”. I handed over the coins as he scowled at me. As he left for the wine cellar Katie appeared behind the bar to pour ale into a handful of jacks. “Katie, did you see him come in?” “Who?”, Katie looked around in confusion. “The man in the booth over there”. Katie followed my pointing hand, “it's empty Els .... isn't it?” I shook my head, “not now it isn't, I've been invited to take a drink with him, that's why I asked you to cover for me”. Katie laughed, “and I thought you just wanted to go pee again.” I grinned back at her, poking my tongue out, “no, not this time Katie, my bladder's fine, thank you very much.”
Our eternal bantering about my unscheduled potty breaks due to me drinking too many ales on an empty stomach was interrupted by two crystal glasses, filled with irridescent red wine, being placed on my tray. I smiled at Katie, vowing to get my own back one of these days, and taking the tray walked back to the booth, avoiding the groping hands of some of the patrons.
I placed the two glasses on the table, trying to find the most unscarred bits of the pitted surface, and slipped into the booth, sitting down. My customer's hand emerged from the shadows to pick up a glass. holding it up in a toast, “your health, young human”. I nervously picked up my own glass and returned the salute, “good health to you sir”. We both sipped from our glasses, me more out of a need to do something to cover my nerves, and to stop me blurting out something inane or stupid. The bouquet of the wine assaulted my senses, faint odours of wild flowers and cinnamon washed over me as I raised the glass. Sipping on the wine reinforced the bouquet, “oh, it's ... it's wonderful”. I mentally kicked myself, chiding myself on such a banal statement. But I couldn't help myself, it was like drinking liquid spring, the flowers, the gentle sun ... it was truly wonderful.
”So,” came the voice, “tell me about yourself”. I blushed a bit sensing his scrutiny, knowing that he was seeing a nineteen year old girl, slave collar visible under my shoulder length brunette hair. “N-not much to tell sir, I-i'm just a barmaid”. “And how did such a beauty as yourself become a slave?” I shivered as he leant forward, my eyes, now accustomed to the gloom in the booth, saw the pale, ashen face of an Elf; haggard looking, almost skull-like. I gasped in shock and nearly dropped the glass. He smiled, looking like Lord Death contemplating the carnage of a battle, and pulled opened the top of his tunic to show the raw skin that has obviously known the bite of a harsh, metal slave collar. “I know of slavery child. How did you come to it?” His dark eyes bored into mine, unblinking and I felt myself fall into them, like diving into midnight sea.
”It all started many years ago,” I heard myself say, “back when I was seven or eight. We lived out at the edge of the Northern Hills, my parents, my brother and I”. I paused when his hand covered mine, “and just who are you child?” “Oh! Sorry sir, my name is Elspeth”. “Go on young Elspeth, you were saying ...”
”Yes, it was in the winter and my father was out in the woods, marking trees for felling come spring, when a band of raiders swept down on us.” Tears slowly trickled down my cheek as the memories came flooding back. The sound of the hoof beats getting louder and louder, the whoops of joy from gutteral throats, the single piteous scream of my brother as he was ruthlessly hacked down trying to protect my mother. My tears now flowed freely as the sight of my father running, screaming incoherently, as he rushed back from the woods, being beaten and forced to watch my mother being stripped and brutally raped repeated itself in my mind. I was helpless to stop the replay of the memories, words poured out of me, telling this strange Elf my life story.
”After they had finished with my mother they cut father's throat, letting her see him die slowly. Then they pushed a spear into her. When they found me hiding in the house, they just dragged me out to where my mothers lay dying, and played with me, pushing to and fro, slapping me. When they got bored with that I thought they were going to kill me - I prayed they would - but they dragged me to a pack horse instead and slung me over it, tying me up. What with everything I'd seen, the physical abuse and all, I passed out. When I came to, it must have been the following night, I was bound to a tree. Weeks passed, I was made to do menial chores, looking after the horses, cooking for them, getting nothing in return except scraps of food, abuse and beatings. I wasn't much good, except for the horses, and when we eventually came to a town they decided to be rid of me. One morning I was dragged out to be sold at a slave auction. Being so young, and obviously in bad shape I was one of the last to be sold, but some old man finally took pity on me I suppose and bought me.
”The next six or so years I was a maid for his wife, Miss Lutitia, until she died. They were better times, food that hadn't been thrown in the dirt, not so many beatings. So then it was back to the slave mart: being older and looking better I was soon bought. This time is was by an ex-mercenary, Jospehus, who wanted someone to muck out his stables, and keep his house clean.
”I liked working with the horses, and Jospehus was a nice old man, but just after I turned sixteen, he got drunk and tried to rape me. Fortunately for me he'd had too much to drink and I was able to knock him out before he'd done more than rip my dress off. Panicking I just ran ... where, I don't know. I ran through the night and collpased some miles outside the town, in a small stand of trees.
”When I woke it was nearly mid-day and it was to the quiet talking of a group of Elves. They seemed perplexed to have a half naked girl in their midst. They told me later that I'd run through their camp, although for the life of me I don't remember that. As I listened to them talk they noticed I'd awoken and addressed me in the common tongue, asking me what I was doing there. When I explained I had run away - I couldn't lie, not with the collar around my neck - they told me I was going to be taken back, that being the law. I just sat and sobbed my heart out. In between the sobs I managed to tell them why I'd run. This seemed to change their minds, so they asked if I would like to work at an Inn. I wouldn't say I jumped at the chance, but decided it was probably better than trying to eke a living out under the sky all by myself, and definitely preferable to going back to Josephus, so I just nodded silently.
”I spent the next six months with the Elves, travelling the forests, learning their language, until they brought me to this Inn here. Once here, Dashiel, the leader of the ...” “Did you say Dashiel?”, the Elf interjected, leaning forward, his black eyes gleaming, “a Sylvan Elf, with a small scar on his forehead?” I looked at the Elf in startlement, “why, yes. Do you know him?”
The Elf laughed, the sound made harsh by his abused larynx, “I should say so, he's my brother. I thought him dead. What did he do next? Did he say where he was going? Was he well?” I blinked in surprise, “well, after he handed me over to Lord Stormbringer, he said he was going back to the Dark Woods .....”
The Elf stood suddenly, taking my hand in his raising it to his mouth, “Miss Elspeth, you have given me a reason to live ... I had thought Dashiel dead, slain by the Ogres who enslaved me years ago. Now I know he is searching for me since the Dark Woods is where we were waylaid. I give thanks to you, young human, now I must be away to seek my lost brother. My name is Falesh, is you should ever need me, call my name to the forests and I will hear.” So saying he swept out of the booth in a rush, cloak billowing and pausing only to call “fare thee well, fair maid”over his shoulder, he took his leave.
I finished the Fire Wine slowly, savouring it's rich, deep aroma. Standing I resumed work, bumping into Katie as she wended her way back to the bar. “never a dull moment here Katie, eh?”