MAP
THE TWO DEAD ELVES laid out on tables in the town morgue were young. At least, Essie guessed they were young. It was hard to tell with elves, since they didn’t start showing their age until they were at least eight or nine hundred years old. But elves were considered young if they were less than a hundred, and there was something about the slimness of their faces, the lankiness of their bodies, that reminded Essie of teenage boys, much like her older brothers had been a few years ago.
And their actions were the actions of the young. Just two boys sneaking across the border, causing trouble. Much like that of the four teenage boys who had sneaked across the border into Tarenhiel two weeks ago. Only one of the boys returned home to Escarland.
“Essie.” Her brother Averett’s voice came from the doorway behind her. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Why not? I’m a part of this diplomatic mission too. I needed to see...” Essie didn’t turn around. She wasn’t yet ready to leave. Something in her ached, seeing the blood covering the chests and stomachs of these two young elf males. One had been shot in the chest, and the musket ball had killed him instantly. The other had been stabbed after a lengthy fight to take him down, according to the townsfolk.
Yes, definitely young. Too young to fully come into their magic and defend themselves.
Too much blood shed on both sides. Again.
Averett halted next to her. The sunlight slanting through the cracks between the building’s board slat siding glinted on the crown he wore on hair that had the good taste to be auburn instead of her indecorous, flame-red hair. “Still, you shouldn’t have to see this. I can’t believe you talked me into letting you come.”
“This is a peaceful diplomatic meeting, and my presence will help reassure the elven king of our intentions.” Essie forced herself to turn away from the bodies laid out on the tables. This was the reason they were traveling to the border their country of Escarland shared with the elven forest kingdom of Tarenhiel. To stop the escalating incidents and deaths at the border from inciting another war.
She suppressed a shudder. No one wanted another war. She’d only been three when the last war between Escarland and Tarenhiel broke out. She’d been five when it ended. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t remember.
A girl didn’t forget the moment she learned her father had been killed.
If there was anything in her power she could do to stop another young daughter from feeling the pain she had back then, she would do it.
She let a smile cross her face, as she had done so many times in the fifteen years since her father had been killed. Smile and carry on. So many others carried on with frowns or constant melancholy, but she chose to smile and keep smiling no matter what. “I’m twenty years old, Avie. If all of you hadn’t spoiled me so much, you probably would’ve already married me off to form some alliance.”
Averett grimaced, as if what she’d said pained him. “I may be the king, but I’m first and foremost your big brother. I’m not going to sacrifice my little sister to some other kingdom just for political gain. I wouldn’t ever do that to you.”
Did he have to take everything so seriously? Probably. He had become king at twelve, though Mother had been his regent until he turned eighteen. He hadn’t had a lot to smile about growing up.
Essie patted his arm. “I know you won’t. But I also know it’s the way of things. I’ve accepted my marriage will probably have some political end, and that’s all right. That’s part of being a princess. But I’ll let you know which match is acceptable to me when the time comes.” Better she picked which marriage of alliance she wanted than have Parliament try to pressure Avie into making one for her.
“Essie...” Averett looked like he was about to argue more, but one of their guards, a lieutenant based on his shoulder stripes, stuck his head into the morgue.
The lieutenant glanced at the dead elves, grimaced, then bowed as much as he could to Averett while still standing half in and half out of the doorway. “Your Majesty. Your Highness. The train’s water and coal has been resupplied. We are ready to depart when you are.”
“Thank you. Please have your squad transport the bodies to the train car we set aside for them. And see to it that the bodies are properly wrapped and cared for. I don’t want the elves to believe we handled their dead with anything less than dignity.”
“Yes, sir.” The lieutenant bowed and saluted before he popped back out the door.
Averett glanced one more time at the dead elves before he held out an arm to Essie. “If only our problem with the elves could be solved as simply as arranging a marriage alliance.”
As his words sank in, Essie nearly forgot to take his arm. Or move. That wasn’t a marriage alliance she’d ever considered. She’d always thought she’d marry into one of the other human nations around Escarland. Maybe Mongalia to the east since they had access to the ocean, and it would benefit trade to be more closely aligned with them.
But if she could secure an alliance with the elves...that would be an alliance few human countries could attain. “Do you think they would agree to a marriage alliance?”
Averett halted so fast Essie’s hand slipped from his arm. “You can’t be serious. You’d actually marry an elf?”
Essie drew her chin up higher. Once she’d been old enough, she’d taken to studying whatever she could find on elves, their culture, and their language. At first it had been a child’s way of dealing with the grief, telling herself that if she simply learned enough, she could stop the tragedy of the war happening again.
But after a while, the studying had turned into a grudging respect. “Yes, I would. Though, I highly doubt the elves would accept, even if you made the offer. They see humans as beneath them and, while sometimes elves do marry humans, I highly doubt an elf among the royal family would deign to do so.”
Averett held out his arm again and started walking once she took it. He remained silent as they left the morgue, waved to the townsfolk one more time, and climbed into their train car, the second car after the steam locomotive and a car full of guards.
Once they were seated across from each other on one of the padded benches, alone in the car as they waited for the lieutenant and his men to load the bodies of the elves, Averett turned to her, something speculative in his gaze. “You know, it might not hurt to offer a marriage alliance. It would be a good way to show that I’m serious about peace if I’m offering my own sister for an alliance. When they refuse, I can ask what elven gesture of peace they would suggest since they rejected the gesture of peace my people deem culturally appropriate. It would force them to make an effort in this negotiation. Too often elves just sit back and let us humans squirm and make all the concessions. I’ll run it by Master Wendee once the train gets moving to the border.”
“Good idea.” Master Wendee, their chief diplomat and negotiator for situations like this, would know if that was a good opening gambit or not. Essie leaned back in the seat and studied her brother’s face. “You’re really worried about this, aren’t you?”
“Yes. Escarland can’t afford another war with the elves. Not now when we’re finally getting back on our feet after the devastation of the last war.” Averett stared out the window at the rolling cornfields, though Essie doubted he was really seeing them. “I didn’t realize it back then, but our soldiers only survived the war as long as they did because the elves’ chief warrior was kept busy with an invasion by the trolls from the north.”