This is the first draft of a story I wrote this week.  It is primarily dialogue.  I will add descriptive narrative in the next draft.  This story is based on a fictional world I created many years ago.  Enjoy!

The Emissary’s Battle

Trouble brews in Elvendell, Land of the Elves.  Adurelain, son of Adurelair, Overlord of Elvendell, has befallen an assassin’s dagger.  Demeri, Honorable Emissary of King Sceptere of Somoland, Realm of Men, appeals to Adurelair to end his threat of war against Dwarfberg, Home of the Dwarves.  Can Demeri persuade one bent on vengeance to desist?

Demeri the Emissary stood before the throne of Adurelair, Overlord of Elvendell.  King Sceptere’s envoy to the Land of the Elves beseeched the king to hear her appeal.  The grief-stricken Overlord acknowledged her presence with a faint glance of his distraught eyes.

“O great One, I come bearing words from the King of Somoland,” Demeri said with measured breath.  “The king sends you his utmost condolences on behalf of the realm of Somoland.  Your loss is great, and our land is pained by Elvendell’s terrible sacrifice.  O that fate could be unmade would we join you in unmaking it.”  The withdrawn Overlord ignored Demeri’s somber greetings.

Demeri continued.  “My king asks you to consider his appeal.  The Huntsmen who patrol the edges of our realm caught wind of news of a stray Gnome wandering through the mountains that divide our two lands.  He may very well have been making his way back to Gnomea after carrying out his foul deed.  Gnomes do not pass lightly through our lands.  Our King’s ears believe that the Gnomes carried out the assassination of your son in the guise of a Dwarf to spur you to assail the land of Dwarfberg.”

“You speak lies!” Adurelair hissed, thrusting an accusing finger at Demeri.  Adurelair rose ominously from his throne, his lithe body steeled with rage.  His piercing eyes bore into Demeri as lance on flesh.  Demeri cringed and covered her eyes.  “Do not whisper lies in my ears, Speaker of Man.  My son’s body is still warm, yet you come to deceive me with rumors and lies?  Do not burden me with your lies!  You seek to derange my thoughts.  It was not a Gnome, but a Dwarf who killed my son.  The evil remnants defiling my son’s room belong to a Dwarf.  This have I seen with my own eyes.  The scent I smelled is that of a Dwarf.  Dwarfberg will pay for stealing away the beloved hier to the throne of Elvendell.  Dwarfberg will pay with blood.”

Demeri bowed humbly, shielding herself from Adurelair’s tirade.  Her guards reached out to her, trying to pull her away from Adurelair’s venom.  Demeri pushed them away, raised her voice and meekly outstretched her arms towards Adurelair.  “O Great One, I beseech you to stay your armies!   This evil deed was not done by the Dwarves.  Please, you must understand.  I was informed that the dagger you found was stolen by a Sprite from the House of King Bergorod one moon ago.  I have not seen the dagger that took your son, but I can tell you that it bears the seal of the King of the Dwarves.  The King’s servant saw a Sprite steal the dagger in the darkest hours of the night from the King’s private armory.”

Adurelair interrupted, “The Sprites have no grievance with Dwarfberg.  The Gnomes are sworn enemies of the Dwarves, not of the Elves.  I do not see why a Gnome would take my son.”  

“King Bergorod believes that the Sprites and Gnomes formed an alliance and that they planned to use his dagger to precipate war between the Elves and Dwarves,” Demeri continued.  “The offending Sprite remains at large, but his possession of the dagger reveals more than his identity.  King Bergorod’s moles pursued the Sprite as he crossed into Gnomea.  They believe the dagger fell into the hands of the Gnomes, who carried out the evil work of the Sprites by sending an assassin into your fair land.” 

Adurelair glared angrily at Demeri, his cobalt eyes shimmering.  “Why was I not told of this?  Why did Bergorod not tell me of this news?  Now my son is dead, killed by Bergorod’s dagger.  Even if my son was not taken by a wretched Dwarf, Bergorod and his ilk will still pay for their silence.”

“Your Highness, the King of the Dwarves believed that the Gnomes would turn his dagger against the heart of Dwarfberg, not against the beloved son of Elvendell.  He did not know what evil purpose would be fulfilled by the dagger’s thrust.  King Bergorod sought counsel from my King because the dagger had passed through the Realm of Man into Gnomea.  He was unaware that the dagger would fulfill its fiendish purpose in Elvendell.  His Emissary could not warn you because he was expelled from your court after Dwarven mines were discovered in Elvendell.” 

“I do not believe you,” Adulelair said warily with an aggrieved voice.  His voice rose again.  “Dwarves undermine my Land.  We will never live at peace with the Dwarves if they continue to conspire against us.  My son is dead.  Elvendell’s heir is gone.  Bergorod is to blame.  So too is Somoland, Land of Man, if it conspired with the Dwarves to kill my son.”

Demeri struggled to deflect the Overlord’s accusations.  “O Great One, Somoland and Dwarfberg have not conspired against you.  Our lands seek to live in peace.  Please understand that this is what the Gnomes and Sprites want.  Long have you fought the Sprites within your borders, and long have the Gnomes lived at war with the Dwarves,” Demeri tried to reason calmly as her knees shook.  “If the Elves ride against Dwarfberg, then your enemies will have won, Your Highness.  They will have brought their twin enemies to the brink of destruction.  The Gnomes will fulfill their ancient claim to Dwarfberg’s lands, and the Sprites will overtake Elvendell.  Your great lands will fall.”

“Emissary, I shall banish you forever from Elvendell for your insolence.  You insult the memory of my son with your clever stories.  Harsh will be my retribution against Somoland if you stand in the way of justice.”

Demeri flinched and turned away.  She cried out, “Great One, please wait!  Remember what happened with Vexsios.  Do you remember Vexsios, a memory of your youth?”

Adurelair suddenly froze, puzzled.  He stopped, and his face dropped as he fell into thought. 

“Ages ago, your beloved father nearly fell victim to the Sword of Man.  Elven guards seized the one who wielded the Sword, the rebel Sprite named Vexsios.  Vexsios stole the Sword from my King’s father, Amulet of Somoland and sought to bring our lands to blows.  Please remember the past and see that it returned with a vengeance.  Where the Sprites failed in taking your father’s life, they succeeded against your son.  Please, I beseech you to remember Vexsios and stay your armies.”

Anger receded from Adulelair’s eyes.  They the faintest glimmer of tears glistened in the corners of his eyes.  A pause ensued, and finally the Overlord answered, “Yes, I remember.  I remember now.  You…are right, Emissary.  Sinister forces may have caused my son’s death, as you say.  I heed your words, Emissary.  I will stay the armies of Elvendell to give this further consideration.  I must uncover the truth.”

 

Books by MG EdwardsMG Edwards is a writer of books and stories in the thriller and science fiction-fantasy genres. He also writes travel adventures and children’s books. A former U.S. diplomat, he served in South Korea, Paraguay, and Zambia before leaving the Foreign Service to write full time.

Edwards is author of six books. His memoir, Kilimanjaro: One Man’s Quest to Go Over the Hill, was finalist for the Book of the Year Award and the Global eBook Award. He has published four children’s picture books in the World Adventurers for Kids Series: Alexander the Salamander; Ellie the Elephant; Zoe the Zebra; and a collection featuring all three stories. His book Real Dreams: Thirty Years of Short Stories is an anthology of 15 short stories.

Edwards lives in Taipei, Taiwan with his wife Jing and son Alex. He has also lived in Austria, Singapore and Thailand. For more books or stories by M.G. Edwards, visit his web site at www.mgedwards.com or contact him by e-mail at me@mgedwards.com or on Twitter @m_g_edwards.

© 2017 Brilliance Press. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted without the written consent of the author.

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