For the King of Grienvalea

Izora I spotted two men on horseback down the dirt road from my look-out in the height of the trees, one further up than the other. They make it too easy- like they are asking to be robbed. Everyone knows that this area of road is known for thieving activities of all sorts. The long strip of dark and eerie dirt road, completely covered with thick trimmed trees on either side, was the perfect place to capture the unsuspecting travelers. Once, I watched a single guy overtake an entire carriage with just a slingshot. I was in awe. He was both brave and stupid; he’s dead now but his memory lives on in my head, tax free. I clutched my smallish knife in a tight grip while shimming down the trunk of the tree until I was able to land on the ground quietly. Peering around the tree to see my targets strolling along, unaware of the assault about to take place. There was a trap only ten feet from the first horseman, waiting to be triggered. My stomach was in knots. I had hoped this would work just as well as the first time. I peeked around once more just as the trap snapped awake, the horse and man thrown to the ground in a weighted net. Yes! One down, one to go. The man under the net starts yelling at his fellow partner in a dialect that sounds familiar but I can’t quite make it out. His partner halts in his tracks, whipping his head around trying to find the culprit. When he doesn’t, he hops off the horse cautiously. He is skeptical about what is to come of them, withdrawing his sword ready for a fight. I put my knife in its holster and pull out my own slingshot and pebble. I rubbed my thumb over the smoothness of the stone as I sat it in the sling and stretched the elastic, aiming at the second hooded horseman. With one deep breath, I let go of the stone in the sling and it flew right into the head of horseman number two. He went down without protest while horseman number one screams something. I silently celebrated as my aim had gotten better. You should have seen me the first time, the guy almost chopped my head off for trying to take his bag of goodies. I came out from the tree line and ran for horseman number two's belongings. Horseman number two started screaming as he saw me rummaging through his partner's things. I didn’t pay him any mind as I dug my hand into the leather satchel on the horse. The clanging of coins makes me smile and I dig further until I pull out the gold and silver coins, at least 100 Tals in the bag. That was enough to hold me over for the next three months! I scored so big, I couldn’t wait to show Aggy my findings. We are eating good tonight! Continuing my search, I found a stash of food and water, an extra set of plain clothing, and a few nicely welded knives, way better than my rusty one. While stripping the horse of its saddle, something shiny catches my eyes that I hadn’t noticed before. On the edge of the saddle was a beautiful gold stitching around the entire thing, and on the front of it was a gold emblem with purple accents but it was familiar, I’ve seen it before. Horseman number one had continued to scream but something he said made all the pieces fit together. The dialect he swore in was the dialect of the Elves, a language that most humans do not speak. And if I was correct, this emblem was the crest of the Elven throne. And I just f****d up big time. Horseman number one was no longer screaming profanities at me but instead, started calling for his fellow knights for help. I rushed over to Horseman number two and pulled off his hood to reveal his pointy ears and a round spot of blood where the stone hit him. He started to stir and I jumped back in fear. A faint voice in the distance booms saying, “Soldiers! Call out!” In the Elven language. They were so close, and I was so dead. I started panicking and headed into the trees, still holding on to the satchel of Tals. They jingled as I ran, giving notice to the infantry I'm sure were close behind. But I wasn’t going to let them go, I spent the whole morning setting up that trap to perfection, I was not letting all my hard work go to waste. The booming voices are closer now, yelling out that they see me and I should stop where I stood in gargled Elven. The blood rushing to my ears didn't help my hearing. I decided to do the only thing I could, which was to climb. So I picked a sturdy tree in an instant and began to scale it in a haste. I felt that I was catching a good speed until something unknown whipped around my right ankle and it weighed a ton. I looked down to see that I was caught by a lassoed rope with a weight at the end wrapped around my foot with ease. It was only mere seconds before I was snatched from the tree and hit the ground forcefully, knocking the wind right out of me. Dazed and wheezing, I tried to scramble to my feet but I was flipped over to my stomach and pinned to the slightly damp ground. It must have rained this morning. “Lift her arm! Give it here!” That same loud voice grumbled in Elvish. My arm is yanked up from behind. I heard the de-sheathing of a long sword against the hide of a holster and the sharp tone of the metal in the air. I knew exactly what they were about to do. The punishment for theft in this great and powerful land that is Grienvalea, was to lose a finger or two if your captures were gracious enough. Unless your captures were power hungry, pointy eared demons like mine, I would probably lose a whole hand. But I won't go down without a fight, I'll be a wimp if I didn't at least try and talk my way out. I'll even settle for less of a finger. “By decree of King Malachi, the punishment for theft of a royal officer is the amputation of one whole single arm!” My blood ran cold in my veins when the words abrupted from his mouth. I started to fight back, thrashing around on the ground and kicking up the loose leaves and sticks. But heavy arms kept me face down in the soil. My heart was in my throat in anticipation of the pain I was about to experience. I know I should have stayed in bed this morning. “Wait! Please don't! I'm sorry!” My muffled cries only go so far. When English doesn't work, I knew the Elvish will. “Have mercy on me! Please!” My Elvish is rusty and choppy as I hadn't spoken the language in many years. I didn't need to because humans and Elves didn't interact unless one of us were being arrested, or when the officers of the throne came to enforce a new rule dropped by the tremendous leader, King Malachi. And my late grandfather made a choice that it was in his best interest to learn the ancient language of the Elves if ever there was a need to use it. At first I thought it was foolish to learn the barbaric language and a waste of time. But it saved me at this moment. Thanks Gramps. It fell silent amongst the men. I couldn't see their faces but I'm sure they were pie faced. I wriggled around some more and shifted my head to the side to see one of the officers with the sword in hand looking down at me with confusion. He looks up at his fellow men switching between their faces before he looks back at me. He crouched down, closer to me and I tried to roll away but the constant pressure on my back and position of my arm prevented me from going far. “What did you say?” For the first time his volume is at a reasonable level. I let out a heavy breath before speaking his tongue once again. “Have mercy on me, sir.” I swallowed down praying that this would work. What am I supposed to do with just a stump for an arm? His head tilted slightly to the side and his lips thin pressed into a line. “You speak Elvish, eh? You humans surprise me every day.” He pats me on the head as if I were a dog and stands up right out of my sight. I swallowed harshly waiting for what's to happen to me, specifically my arm. “I have never met a human to speak our language with such sophistication. If it wasn't for your puny ears, I would have thought of you as an elf.” I had only managed to sputter a few words in what I thought was unpracticed and broken Elven. Maybe I remember better than I thought. The sudden relief from the pressure on my arms makes me audibly gasp and clamp down on the joint to soothe it from the phantom pain. I'm pulled to my feet swiftly and cuffs are placed on my hand and feet to chain me to a horse decked in the gold, green, and purple embellishments. I looked between my shackled limbs to the man in charge. A slight smirk lingers on his lips while he rests his hands on his hips. I saved my ass, but to what end? What were they about to do to me? Was I about to be a prisoner? A slave to the throne? I'd rather them take my arm. “I think someone would like to meet this special thieving human. Don't you think, boys?” a sprinkle of chuckles filled the air and fear started to settle in the pit of my stomach. I don't like their joy at my impending doom.