The story of the Elf Queen

* * *

When he heard a light knock at the door, Luaval opened his eyes and rose to his feet in one fluid motion from the bed on the floor where he had been meditating. He had not recovered fully in the intervening time but felt relatively well. He'd had much worse in his life. Much worse. Silently approaching the door, the dark elf stood to the side of it and stood at the ready. Moments later, distant footsteps were heard. The dark elf slipped his hooded mask on and waited until the branded house slave who knocked on the door took a few seconds to descend to the lower floors. Then, after waiting another minute and listening carefully to what was going on in the merchant's house, Luaval carefully opened the door and activated the cloaking amulets.

Unnoticed by any of the merchant's household, who were in the middle of their workday, Luaval went down into the cellar. In one of the rooms, separated from the rest of the cellar by a solid wall and a solid door, sat the rescued prisoners. They looked somewhat better than they had the day before. Still, rest combined with decent food and drink had done the trick. When Luaval appeared, they immediately fell silent and turned to him with tense faces. The red-haired spellcaster, dressed in a clean islander's outfit that was a little small in her chest, rose abruptly from her chair and spoke demandingly, eyes blazing:

"You've finally arrived! Maybe now you'll deign to explain to me what the hell..."

Luaval interrupted her with a sharp gesture and pressed a finger to his lips. Then, under the even more tense stares of his rescuers, the dark elf closed the door and placed a small amulet on it, which was instantly attached. A moment later, a wave of light traveled from it across the walls, floor, and ceiling. Only then did Luaval speak in a calm voice, looking into the eyes of the spellcaster:

"There is no need to raise your voice, honorable Ciara when the defenses are down. The inhabitants of this house need not know of our presence."

The red-haired sorceress squinted her eyes:

"I thought this was your safe place. Isn't that what you told me on the way here?"

"It is," Luaval nodded. "And I want it to stay that way. So you'll have to be quiet. For your own good."

Ciara looked at Luaval in silence for a few seconds, then nodded faintly:

"Of course. But I'm still waiting for a detailed explanation from you!"

"And not just you, honorable," said the eldest of the dwarves, who looked at Luaval more grimly than the others.

"Please, that's what I came down here for."

Taking a vacant chair against the wall, Luaval sat down on it and spoke in a polite voice:

"So, as I told you back on the ship, I was asked to free you from the captivity of the islanders and bring you home. I did the first step, but that was the easy part. Going back is going to be much harder. Because we have to go through the Underworld."

The latter caused surprised gasps from the rescued, and the slant-eyed shamaness, who was sitting in the corner on some chest with her legs, squeaked something in her native steppe language. The only one who wasn't surprised was the eldest of the dwarves. He frowned his eyebrows, put his hands to his sides, and asked balefully:

"And why exactly through the Underworld, may I ask?"

"If you have other options, honorable master, I'm ready to hear them. But I'll tell you two things at once. One. The ship is out. All the waters around the Islands are tightly controlled by their inhabitants. No ship can come here undetected, not even the ones we could theoretically use. And a ship we capture will be caught and stopped before we reach the mainland. Not to mention the fact I don't know how to fly a ship. I suspect you don't either."

After giving the rescued a careful look and expectantly finding no experienced sailors among them, Luaval continued:

"We can't use the portals either. All the Islands, especially Kuordemar, have had a powerful defense over them since Imperial times, reinforced by Calisto's blessing, preventing outside forces from moving in. And the islanders cherish it, otherwise they would have been swept away by armies from the continent long ago. No one will let us use a stationary portal in the capital or other large islands. That leaves only the way through the Underworld."

"Yeah. Where you'll turn us over to your buddies! You want us to trade one slavery for another, dark one?! I knew right away who you were!"

Rolling his eyes, Luaval pulled the hood off his head under the accusatory gesture of the older dwarf and the suspicious glances of the other rescued men. This caused another gasp and inarticulate squeak from the slanted daughter of the steppes. Before anyone could say anything, the dark elf raised his hands, palms forward, and spoke in a calm voice:

"I completely understand your distrust of my kin, honorable master. But I have no House, and I work for the Forest. It is the Forest that your loved ones have asked to be saved. And before you start arguing, just consider this. Practically beneath Kuordemar is Antak na Shar'Dan. It's one of the largest underground cities through which trade between the Underworld and the surface takes place. And through which the Islanders sell much of their loot, including captured slaves. In exchange, they receive resources and goods from the Underworld or what they couldn't loot on the continent. If I, or my House, which I don't have, were interested in you as slaves, you would simply be bought at the slave market. Right here, through sales representatives, or down below, it doesn't matter. It would be an order of magnitude cheaper and easier. And I wouldn't have to destroy an entire shipload of valuable goods, massacre the dock, and then run all over the city, leading the chase on a false trail at the risk of my life. And that's not to mention the political consequences of such a demarche in the event of my capture."

When he had finished speaking, Luaval gave the rescued men a friendly glance. They didn't have much confidence on their faces, but they were thoughtful. The red-haired spellcaster was the first to speak:

"Let's say we believe you. You think it's possible?"

"It's not gonna be easy, that's for sure. But if you do everything I tell you to do and don't get completely stupid, we have a good chance of getting there. Especially since we don't have to walk very far. Again, Honorable Kiara, you are the experienced leader of the silver adventurer team, along with your two apprentices. I'm sure that with my support, you'll be able to do something like this."

"Let's say. What do we do now?"

"That's a good question, honorable Kiara. First, let me clarify. Have either of you ever been to the Underworld before?"

Expectedly, everyone shook their heads except for the eldest of the dwarves.

"When I was young, I worked on the lower levels under Mont Ros Mountain for a couple of years. I even went to the Neutral Territories a few times. But I was there as an assistant master, under the protection of Clan warriors, not required to find a route or stand guard."

"I once had the opportunity to fulfill an order in a rather spacious and deep cave. It was a hunt for a mountain troll. Successfully," Ciara said carefully.

In response, Luaval only shook his head:

"I see. Well, let's consider this a unique chance to gain rare and valuable experience. You may well be able to claim the gold rank after this, honorable Kiara. And equally honorable masters will be able to braid their beards in the warrior way and mark themselves accordingly."

In response, both dwarves snorted grimly.

"Okay, all kidding aside. Here's the deal. I need to get another prisoner out. I'll try to make it through today. I should be back by morning. Then, when everyone's assembled, I'll begin a detailed briefing. Honorable Kiara, can you take over the recharging of the amulets in my absence?"

The redheaded spellcaster nodded affirmatively:

"I'm good. Ronan and Andrea will help me, and practice at the same time."

"Very good. In that case, you may proceed."

Opening his sack, Luaval laid out several dozen small and a couple of medium-sized storage crystals of the highest quality, the work of elven craftsmen. Kiara's eyes widened visibly at the sight of them, but they said nothing.

"I'll leave you to it for now. Once again, I ask you not to make any noise or leave the cellar. And I remind you," Luaval looked at the slanting shamaness, "not to try to summon your own spirits or even the spirits of this place. You'll get nothing, and you'll give away our sanctuary."

"Hai. I remember your words," the girl nodded, still looking at Luaval warily.

"In that case, I'll see you later."

After saying goodbye to the rescued prisoners, the dark elf left the basement and went up, still unnoticed, to the second floor of the building. Reaching the desired door, Luaval gently knocked in the agreed manner. After a few moments, his keen elven hearing picked up the clatter of a chair being pushed back, quick footsteps, and the creak of a deadbolt. When the door opened, the well-fed owner of the house appeared behind it. With a glance around, he stepped aside and whispered:

"Come in quick!"

Luaval stepped into the office in a blurry shadow, and the merchant hastily locked the door. At the same time, he reactivated the stationary artifact at the entrance, which made it difficult to hear the room. It was not a bad artifact, to his credit. Returning to the table, where a dish with sea chowder stood between neat stacks of paper and rolled scrolls, the merchant waited until the dark elf appeared on the chair in front of him. The merchant waited until the dark elf appeared in front of him:

"I've prepared what you asked for today. But please be very careful! His Majesty was very saddened by what happened the day before. You and your companions are wanted all over the island. Especially the fire sorceress, whom everyone believes to be the main culprit. There are posters with her portrait and description everywhere."

"How much are they offering?"

"A lot, honorable. Ten thousand full pearls, or three thousand pieces of silver. One and a half times as much for a alive."

"Pretty good. What about the rest?"

"Everything will be in by this evening, I was sworn they would deliver everything without fail!"

"All right. What about the slaves?"

"As you asked, my messengers found out everything. No one suspected a thing, it's all the talk of the town now. Most have been taken to the House of Tears and housed there. The most valuable, as usual, were placed in the House of His Majesty's Dearest Guests. But I must say that this time the King showed unexpected generosity and announced that each of the captives would be offered a choice. Each could become a subject of the Islands by swearing an oath to His Majesty on the altar of Calisto, thus gaining their freedom. It is said that Alekhar did this for the favor of the High Priestess of the Life Giver. Her temple had been sacked in Morgraf, and she herself, along with the younger priestesses and novices, had been kidnapped by the raiders of Aldamar, one of the captains of the fleet. A former captain."

"Is that so? Interesting..."

"Rumor has it that she charmed the king with her incredible beauty. Some even say that to redeem the Life-Giver's offense, Alekhar has already made her his sea wife. In any case, it has already been announced that a new temple will be built outside the city, especially for her. And she is now the high priestess of Gaia for all the Isles."

"Where is this priestess now?"

"For now, she and her novices and junior priestesses are housed in the current city temple of the Life-Giver, which is not too far from us, in the suburbs. And I must say that since their arrival, the temple has been under constant guard by the royal guards, who check all visitors. So, I'm inclined to believe that His Majesty will soon have a new consort, fished at sea, as we say."

"Maybe. Well, I'd better get going. Call your assistant."

"As you wish, honored one."

Touching the small communication amulet set on the table, the merchant spoke in a loud voice:

"Makhlay! Come to me! Right now!"

Luaval got to his feet and stood to the side of the door, opening it and activating the cloaking amulet again. A moment later, footsteps approached and there was a loud knock on the door.

"It's open!"

The door swung open and a tall young man with short, dark, curly eyes and tanned skin walked into the merchant's office, wearing the short pants and light blue vest that most Islanders wore.

"Yes, master?"

"Sit down, Makhlay. I have an errand for you. I need to go to the Fisherman's Bay, take..."

As the young man listened to his superior's instructions, Luaval stepped silently behind him and pressed the tip of a small, round-tipped magic staff to the back of his head. The young man twitched, his eyes widened but went blank a moment later. Unconscious, Makhlay began to slump onto his side, but the dark elf held him up. Sitting the unconscious merchant's assistant back in his chair, Luaval carefully poured the contents of a couple of small vials into his mouth. Then he turned to the tense merchant and spoke:

"He'll sleep till morning and won't remember a thing. When he wakes up, he'll have a headache, just like after drinking too much. Reprimand him for being gone all day coming back only in the evening, and drunk. For now, put him in your office, and make sure he doesn't hurt himself. Here are two amulets to put on him. One to cover the body, the other to cover the sounds. I'll get them when I get back."

"Okay, whatever you say."

Handing the merchant the two amulets, the dark elf turned to the sleeping assistant again. This will do just fine. Taking out several different amulets, Luaval set to work. One amulet he pressed against the sleeping man's forehead, another he jabbed into his finger, drawing some blood. A third amulet, Luaval put on his forehead, then activated all three, connecting them into a chain. At the same moment, the dark elf was enveloped in a dense haze of burning fire. When it dissipated, another Mahlay stood in the middle of the room. Only a little taller. Nodding, Luaval said:

"That'll do. Is the horse ready?"

"А? Yes, of course! You copied the voice so well..."

"Practice. Until tonight."

After saying goodbye to the merchant, the dark elf left the house. A saddled horse was waiting for him in the street, the servant-groom nodded silently to the master's assistant, his right-hand man, and did not even ask anything. He had to go somewhere, so he had to go somewhere. It was none of the stableman's business where and why. Luaval got out of the suburbs of Quordemar without any problems, and no one paid attention to a well-dressed islander, even on horseback. The dark elf rode out of the capital of the Isles and headed east, to the very city from which he had brought the prisoners this morning. It was a quick ride on horseback. There, Luaval went straight to the wharf, where a fishing boat he knew stood. He greeted the captain politely and gave him a small scroll with an order for a shipment of pincers. After that, the dark elf left the small town.

A necessary precaution, in case someone would later wonder where and why Makhlay had traveled. The chance is negligible, but it is impossible to risk hard-won and therefore even more valuable agents. And so, if someone will be interested, then yes, he came, talked about something with honorable fishermen, gave them something. What? The honorable merchant wanted to please himself and his loved ones with tender pincher meat, so he decided to buy it from skillful fishermen. Nothing unusual. After leaving the city, the dark elf headed north, through fields and plantations, towards the ridge of hills covered with forest. When the road changed to a wide path, he turned off it, ensured no one was watching, and rode into a small dense shrubbery. Tethering his horse and placing the sound-masking amulet, Luaval continued on foot, keeping a sharp lookout.

The search for the right place took almost three hours. During this time, the dark elf managed to go around four not-insignificant hills. But those who seek will find. At the foot of the fifth, the trained eye of the Dungeon Hunter found what he needed. The secret signs of the Underworld pointed the way to a hidden entrance. To a surface dweller, just a pile of rocks heaped by nature at the foot of a hill. To a surface dweller, a signpost. Well, let's see what we have here. Luaval moved in the right direction and came to a dried-up stream bed stretched from the top of the ridge. Well, another sign. Aha, here was the entrance. Stopping at a small section of sheer rock in the hillside, right on the bank of the dried-up stream bed, the dark elf ran his palm gingerly over it. The work of dark dwarves, which was to be expected. Not a bad disguise and a good defense. We know them.

Taking out his tools, Luaval set to work. It was a lucky find, he'd feared it would take much longer. Of course, not everywhere on the surface has an entrance to the Underworld. But where there was an official entrance, as there was here on Kuordemar, there would inevitably be a dozen secret ones. For a wide variety of purposes and belonging to a wide variety of powers. Luaval knew of two of them, but they were both on the eastern edge of the island. The last time he had used them was a long time ago, back when he had a House. It was risky to rely on them, and they led to territories that went north. He needed to go southeast. This passageway, which most likely belonged to some clan of dark dwarves, probably led to the right place. It's probably where the darklings smuggle their goods to the islanders.

Which is a good thing. If this passage had been created by kin, it would have been a bit more difficult. However, in Antak na Shar'Dan dark elves are a minority, with only one full-fledged House, two Small Houses, and a few trade and diplomatic (to put it simply, spy) representations of other houses. The bulk of the population of the city are dark dwarves. Although, there are enough groundlings, not only slaves. In the Underworld respect strength, and if you have proved yours, you can count on a proper attitude and place in society, especially among the dark dwarves. It is an axiom of life underground that you will be either stabbed in the back or branded a slave at the first opportunity, along with a collar.

With these thoughts of his homeland, Luaval had no trouble breaking through the disguised door's defenses, successfully avoiding a signal web and a pair of beacons. A wave ran across the rock, and a massive solid-stone door was revealed in place of the monolithic stone. A cunning dwarven lock clicked, and it opened without the slightest noise. The little ones know how to build. Once inside, the dark elf found himself in a narrow corridor that led to a small room, with an iron grate at the entrance, through which it was convenient to fight off and shoot back in case of invasion. This, too, could be handled without much trouble. There was no one in the room, but there was a wide enough spiral staircase and a good-sized freight elevator made by dwarves. Solid. And not very good. A small crawlway would have been a much better fit. But what we have is what we have. Cautiously down the stairs, Luaval found himself in roughly the same room as the one upstairs. Except that there were passageways to the living quarters, where muffled voices could be heard, and to the storage rooms. With a wince, the dark elf cautiously approached the locked exit, listening to the voices of the inhabitants. Approaching the massive door, Luaval carefully pressed the scanning amulet against it, taking care not to snag the signaling threads. Activating it, the dark elf closed his eyes. So, a large underground hall, diverging in three main directions. Including the right direction. That'll do.

After extinguishing the amulet, the dark elf quickly left the lower floor without anyone noticing. How easy it was to live and work with the idleness of ordinary people. Luaval didn't doubt for a second that there should have been a constant guard at both doors. But since there was no high authority, and nothing ever happened anyway, why sit by the closed doors? In case of emergency, we could always come running. Again, there are plenty of other more important things to do. With another wry grin, the dark elf carefully closed the bars and the door behind him without disturbing the signaling threads. To be fair, the protection and disguise were quite good, and it was unlikely that anyone else would have been able to open the door, let alone remain undetected.

Leaving the found entrance to the Underworld, Luaval jogged toward the horse. Luckily, no one had found it in the intervening time. The journey back to the merchant's house was uneventful, the sun had already set and the streets were empty. Leaving the horse to the stable boy, the dark elf in human form walked up the stairs with a loping gait, waving off a couple of the householders he met. The climb was accomplished without assistance, and Luaval stood staggering before the entrance to the study. Good, the peddler was alone inside. With a loud knock, the dark elf swung the door open and stepped inside, slamming it shut behind him. The merchant jumped at the sight of him, but nodded understandingly and wailed sternly:

"Makhlay, where have you been?! Are you drunk?! How could you..."

Leaving the merchant to put on a show for the household, the dark elf got rid of his disguise amulets and activated a simple disguise. Leaving the study, where the merchant continued to scold the assistant who had slept peacefully in his office all day, Luaval made his way to the roof. After that, he headed for the Imperial City. He managed to get over the wall without too much trouble, although there were plenty of patrols, the defense was already in normal mode. An experienced Dungeon Hunter was able to bypass it.

It was nightfall when they reached the desired location in Kuordemar. Standing in the shadow of a chimney on the roof of one of the luxurious mansions on the shore of the central lake where the Conqueror of the Seas was now located, Luaval assessed his objective. The House of Dear Guests, located within the Imperial Palace, lived up to its name. It was a rectangular, freestanding building, four stories, with strong walls, bars on the windows, no sculptures or reliefs, and numerous guards at the entrance and on the roof. A prison of high comfort, for the most valuable prisoners, or for those who are dangerous, but whose lives would be even more dangerous to take. Where are you, boy? Hmm... Yeah, there you are. Well, how do we get you out?

As he made himself comfortable, Luaval thought hard. Was it worth the risk? The boy would be the biggest burden of the journey. But on the other hand, he was the most valuable of all the prisoners. Hmm... Breaking into the House of Dear Guests wouldn't be that easy. There are too many guards and good defenses. Then again, it's a prison, and all the floors and passages between them are permanently sealed off. And even if we could get in, how would we get out with such a load? You could try, but that takes training and time. And we don't have that. What if-- Hmm. Dangerous. But possible. It's worth a try!

After thinking it over again, Luaval made up his mind. It was worth a try, at least; he could retreat. The dark elf nodded to his ideas and began to prepare for his plan. Once again alchemy, but this time more gentle and not so powerful, but a little longer lasting. So, remove the smell, check the enchantments, and disguise. It's all good. Well, let's try an old trick. Luaval carefully climbed down from the roof, hiding in the shadows and rushing forward without anyone noticing, setting his cloaking amulets to the maximum. The wall surrounding the Imperial Palace was much lower than the one surrounding the Imperial City and much narrower. But there were more signal strands, they were much thicker, and there were enough bright magical lights around the perimeter. In addition, it was separated from the rest of the city by a narrow canal ditch. But for the experienced Dungeon Hunter, it was no obstacle, thanks to the water-walking enchantment on her boots. The levitation amulet helped him climb the smoothly lined wall itself. He had to be careful not to touch signaling threads or dangerous areas.

In order to get across completely, he had to drain the reserve of cloaking amulets and spend a one-time high-quality negator of magic, dulling the sensitivity of the threads for a few moments, so they did not react to the crossing in any way. It made one tense up a bit, but all was well, the alarm didn't go off. Once in the palace grounds, which was a pretty good garden, Luaval moved cautiously toward the wall on the opposite side. He had to be careful, but for the most part, it was just a precaution. There were enough spreading trees and shrubs in the garden to allow them to hide in the shadows most of the time. The trouble with any large building that was crowded with people was that it couldn't be completely covered with magic and signal protection. Otherwise, it would be triggered constantly and continuously. If everyone is given amulets-keys, they will inevitably get lost or "lost", they will be copied. It is much easier and more effective to divide such an object into sectors with limited access and keep under careful control the passages between them. And to cover only the most significant and important places tightly. So, the dark elf walked through the imperial garden without anyone noticing.

Luaval waited for the patrol to pass and climbed to the edge of the wall, fixing a small and inconspicuous amulet on one of the prongs. Then he hurried away. Still hiding in the shadows of the garden, the dark elf reached its boundary, beyond which began an empty area, devoid of any bushes or trees that surrounded the House of Dear Guests. Taking shelter at its very edge, in the shade of a sprawling ornamental bush, Luaval carefully placed three amulets on the ground around him, forming an equilateral triangle. Together they formed a small but dense cloaking field. Ensured it was stable, the dark elf took out his tiara and placed it on his head. Concentrating, he sent out a mental call. The answer from the Secret Guard agent on duty who was covering him came almost immediately:

Listening.

I need a link to Gion de Faral for direct conversation and first-degree influences. "Right now. There will be no other chance to draw him out.

Copy that. We're on it.

Making himself comfortable in the shadows, Luaval began to wait...

* * *

Sleep, despite the late hour, was not coming. There were many reasons and at the same time, there was only one reason. The current humiliating situation. Some might say he was lucky. Unlike many other prisoners, he was kept in quite comfortable conditions, very decently fed, his clothes immaculately cleaned, and in general, not even touched with a finger. But that did not cancel the fact of his captivity. Helplessness and powerlessness were two things that, despite his young age, he had learned to fully recognize and hate. Especially angry was the ostentatious deference of his captors, who addressed him with respect, but with openly mocking faces. It's all right. He'll get through this. He'll get through it all. And he won't forget anything. He's got a good memory. And once he gets out.

Gion?

A man's voice coming from nowhere made him jump up and sit up sharply in bed. At the snap of a finger, the magical lights flared up, dispelling the darkness of the night. Looking around, he didn't see anyone. There was nowhere to hide in the small room he had been placed in. What the...

Gion? Can you hear me?

Twitching, the young man turned his head:

"What? Who are you? Who..."

Don't talk out loud and don't give the appearance! Act normal. I was sent to get you out.

Silent for half a word, Gion carefully settled back into the bed, casting tense glances around.

Who are you? Who sent you? How are you talking to me?

Agent of the Forest, speaking by induced thought link. I've been sent to break you out of captivity. If you want to be free, do as I say. And remember, you won't get another chance to get out.

The young man froze in bed, thinking hard about what he'd heard. His heart was racing, and his fists crumpled the blanket.

Gion?

I agree. Tell me what to do.

Listen carefully...

* * *

The trill of the signal amulet roused the guard on duty from his slumber, and he stirred at his desk. Who was it that was bothering him in the middle of the night? Glancing at the wall where the floor plan was, he saw a small crystal glowing in one of the cells. The duty officer strained his memory, remembering who was in it. Some boy, one of His Majesty's prisoners captured on His Majesty's campaign. What did he want at this hour? With a mental scolding, the duty officer reluctantly got up from his desk and left the guard room. Nodding to a couple of guards who were walking slowly along the wide and brightly lit corridor, he headed for the cell where the call had come from. Stopping in front of a wide and massive door, shrouded in thick metal strips, the guard opened a small window in its center and inquired in a grumpy voice:

"What's the matter?"

A thin boy with dark hair stood in the middle of the room, fully dressed in his expensive black and white clothes, with his family crest embroidered on them. At the sight of the duty officer, he spoke demandingly:

"I need to see your master. Or whoever is in charge of the prisoners. And as soon as possible."

In another situation, the duty officer would have sent the brat away. But years of service in the House of Dear Guests had taught him never to simply dismiss those very guests and their requests. Sometimes very unusual ones. Because they were honored guests, and it could get messy.

"Can't it wait till morning?"

"No. It's an emergency. It could be too late in the morning. I have it on good authority that right now, my family is preparing the ritual of Renunciation. I believe you should know what that is. If I don't act immediately, by morning, I will be of no use to your master. I won't even be able to recoup the cost of my upkeep."

The duty officer became serious in an instant. He was not a magician and knew only enough about sorcery to use amulets. But he knew what Renunciation was, and looked at the boy with completely different eyes. He was tense and focused, his gray eyes burning with determination. Did he really sense that his blood would soon betray him? Or was it just... No, you don't mess around with that sort of thing. Damn it! Snatching the binding amulet from his belt and activating it instantly, the officer on duty spoke in a loud voice:

"Third Caretaker to the Elder! Third Caretaker to the Elder!"

A few seconds later, the displeased voice of the commandant of the House of Dear Guests rang out:

"The elder is listening! What's the matter, Third?"

"We have a special situation. One of our guests needs immediate assistance. According to him, the threat of Renunciation."

Several muffled curses and sharp commands rang out in response. Then the sharply strained voice again:

" Who exactly?! Condition?!"

"Gion de Faral. Condition..."

At that very moment, a trickle of blood suddenly flowed from the boy's nose. The boy twitched, gave the duty officer a frightened look, but quickly pulled himself together grabbed a handkerchief, and started wiping his face.

"I just got a nosebleed! And he looks awful, in my opinion!"

"Damn... Get him to the palace! I'll contact the shift on duty, they'll prepare everything! The convoy is on its way to you! I said they're coming! Can he walk on his own?"

The pale boy, hearing the question, nodded affirmatively. He didn't look very good at that.

"He says he can!"

"All right, take him out."

* * *

A few minutes later, four people came out of the main gate of the House of Dear Guests. Three royal guards and a thin young man in black and white robes. They walked straight toward the palace, taking the shortest path through the garden. The guard ahead of them lit the way with a bright magical lamp, while two others flanked the boy, ready to pick him up in case of an emergency. He looked unwell, his face whiter than his shirt, with blood under his nose, but he walked steadily. As the wide path that led to the palace made a turn, there was a loud rustling in the thick bushes. The boy froze in place, twitching, and asked fearfully:

"What is that?! Is someone in there?!"

The convoy also froze abruptly, cursing quietly. One of the guards put a hand on the boy's shoulder, forcing him to take a step back, the other took a step forward, blocking him while placing his hand on the hilt of his short sword. The older man with the magic lamp directed a beam of light at the bushes and took a cautious step forward, placing his hand on the sword.

"Who's there?! Anybody there?!"

There was another loud rustle, and the guards began to draw their blades, but a moment later a coal-black cat darted out of the bushes and into the darkness of the garden. The oldest of the guards gave it a scolding glance and put his blade back in its sheath.

"You scared the shit out of me..."

He didn't have time to finish. A pain stabbed his neck, and a moment later his body stopped responding. He collapsed helplessly to the ground, unable to move a single muscle, his heart swelling with terror. A few moments later, his panic-stricken mind was swallowed by darkness.

As he stepped out of the shadows, Luaval quickly approached the boy who was staggering around with his head cocked to the side, three bodies lying motionless on the ground around him. He flinched at the sight of the dark elf, but quickly regained his composure and spoke respectfully:

"Impressive..."

"Accolades later. We don't have much time. It won't be long before the patrol's missing."

"Uh, sure. I'm ready."

Gion froze in place and allowed Luaval to quickly entangle himself with silk rope in a special way. The dark elf then placed two cloaking amulets and a levitation amulet on him, which was set to half-strength. Then Luaval put the bound boy on his back and hurried towards the wall. It was not so slower than if he'd been walking on his own, and a lot quieter. Well, so far, so good. The amulets left at the ambush site prevented the alarms from going off. Or rather, the royal guards' alarm amulets had worked, reacting to the death of their owners, but there was no way to prevent it under his circumstances. But his amulets left at the ambush site, for now, suppressed their signals and prevented them from raising the alarm. It wouldn't be long before the convoy and the prisoners were discovered, but he had a small head start.

When he reached the wall, Luaval put the levitation amulet into afterburner mode. The passenger made the levitation amulet drain its reserve at an unpleasantly fast rate, but it was enough for the dark elf to climb the wall. Without sparing another negator of magic and having used up the reserve of his cloaking amulets, he climbed over it. At the same time, Luaval activated the amulet left on the opposite wall. It worked, causing interference and fluctuations in the signal web. It didn't raise an alarm. Not yet. But the guards will take notice. And then they'll link it to the kidnapping. Oh, here we go!

Luaval had just managed to cross the moat separating the city wall from the city when the alarm bell rang behind him. That was fast, boys. But not fast enough. Pretty soon they'll find the guards dead. And in the necks of each of them are poisoned throwing needles made by dark elves. And if they look hard enough, and they will, they'll find cloaking amulets, also the work of their kin. Or rather, made according to the Dark Elf school of artifacts. Which would give them the wrong idea. Which is exactly what I was counting on. With a swift and blurry blur, the dark elf reached the wall of the nearest house and literally flew up to the roof. The levitation amulet was almost completely discharged. He had to hand the boy a spare crystal-storage device on the way. Fortunately, the boy knew how to use them, and managed to change it, being in a not the most comfortable position. Jumping from rooftop to rooftop, Luaval reached the wall that separated the suburbs from the Imperial City. No alarms had been raised on it yet, but there were plenty of patrols. Still, the kidnapping of one boy, however valuable, was no slaughter on the day of His Majesty's triumphant return.

The boy had been silent all this time, and he had given the dark elf a small measure of respect, but rather gratitude. The boy had been silent all this time, and he gave the dark elf a measure of... No, not respect, but rather gratitude. He kept quiet, and thank goodness for that. If he was constantly asking questions, demanding answers, or trying to command, he would have had to knock him out. When he reached the roof of the merchant's house, Luaval broke in through the attic window, using the key amulet the owner had given him. Most of the house's occupants were still asleep, and the dark elf silently made his way to his assigned room. Only there, he removed his burden and carefully untied it. Gion, already looking noticeably better, nodded silently and carefully rose to his feet, kneading his stiff arms and legs. He looked at the dark elf with genuine respect, but there was tension in his gaze:

"It was very exciting. I've heard incredible stories about the Forest Warriors of the Cloak and Dagger. I believe them much more now. May I know the name of my savior?"

"Of course not. But you can call me First."

For a moment the young man made an understanding face and nodded:

"Of course. Then may I inquire as to our next steps, honorable First?"

"It's just First. As for the steps, I'll give you those tomorrow. Right now, you should get some rest. You can stay here. It's safe enough."

"I'm not sure I can sleep after that...."

The boy didn't have time to speak, falling face down. Luaval picked up the tranquilized prisoner and laid him gently on his bed. Let him rest. He could have stayed asleep, but there was still one more thing to do, and it would be a good idea to finish it tonight. Leaving the boy alone in his room was not a wise idea. So let him sleep.

After dealing with the prisoner, the dark elf changed the storage crystals in his amulet and drank a detoxicant with a jug of water. After spending twenty minutes on a set of small cleansing procedures, Luaval used the night pot, drank another half jug of water, and then left the merchant's house, climbing out onto the roof again. The fatigue was wearing off, but luckily the last target was relatively close by, and in the suburbs rather than the Imperial City.

A short sprint across the deserted night rooftops and the dark elf stopped at the edge of a small square. On the opposite side stood a tall round marble building with a high dome. The only one built of such material in this part of Kuordemar. It was surrounded by a beautiful garden full of fruit trees, flowers, and vegetable beds. Behind the circular building, at the edge of the garden area, was another two-story building noticeably simpler and clearly residential. Right now, the territory of the Life-Giving Temple was surrounded by a platoon of royal guards. Guards with good magical lights stood at all the doors, and patrols walked around the perimeter and in the garden. On the square, right in front of the temple, there were five harnessed wagons with the royal coat of arms, loaded to the top with crates and chests. A dozen sturdy porters were continuously bringing them into the temple through the main gate. Some of the loads were carried toward the dwelling house.

The dark elf's eye recognized some of them as wine bottles and ripe fruit, and a couple were enchanted to keep their contents cold. The kind used to keep food that spoiled quickly. Looks like the peddler wasn't lying. It's more interesting. Making sure the amulets were working properly, the dark elf climbed to the neighboring rooftops and used them to reach the building that was closest to the dwelling where the priestesses and novices lived. There was almost no magical defense here. A couple of signal strands and the usual deadbolts. The reason for this was quite obvious. Kneeling on the edge of the roof, Luaval folded his hands in a gesture of prayer and whispered with only his lips:

"Gaia, Giver of Life, I thank you for the bountiful gift I have received by your grace! I swear that I will cherish it with all my heart! I have no malice against You, nor against those who serve You and glorify Your name! I only do my duty!"

The dark elf finished his prayer took out his tiara again and activated his magic vision, looking at the residential building. Well, let's see... Look, the sailors weren't lying! Oh! What's going on here? Wow, how interesting...

* * *

Nayrina's naked body arched on the bed, moaning with all her might. As indifferent as ever, Ely paid no attention, continuing to lick the younger priestess diligently between her spread and bent-knee legs. Reaching out, Amalia's heavy-breathing assistant burrowed her hand into the elf's long silver hair, stroking her head affectionately. She paid no attention to it, diligently licking the last drops of love juices from the younger priestess' pussy. When she was done with her tongue, she pulled away and stood motionless on the narrow bed. Nayrina, who was out of breath, sat down and pulled Ely to her, hugging and kissing her tightly, enjoying the smoothness of her skin and the warmth of her body. She habitually didn't react in any way. Smiling, the younger priestess pulled back a little and admired her ward in the moonlight. How beautiful she was. And affectionate. If only she were also a lad... If only... If...

Her excitement began to fade, and her conscience, which again argued that it was wrong to take advantage of a helpless ex-slave, reasserted itself. After that incredibly shameful, but so pleasant night on the ship, Nayrina had been certain that nothing like that would ever happen again. But the temptation was much stronger than she had expected. She had been entrusted by Reverend Amalia to take care of Ely. Nayrina fed her, clothed her, and bathed her. The beautiful elf was by her side all the time. So beautiful. Submissive. Unresponsive. Obedient. It was impossible to resist. On the ship, Nyrina allowed herself only small pranks, as the honorable Faona had once said that nothing could be concealed from His Majesty on the ship. Casually touching her large breasts while dressing or undressing. To run the palm over tender places during ablutions. A furtive kiss on a tender cheek. But tonight, it was impossible to resist. Especially since the two of them had been put together in this cell. And the younger priestess dared to voice again the accidentally discovered command, which was used by the previous master of the elf.

It was just like it had been on the king's ship. And just like then, Nayrina's heart was pounding like mad at the thought that any moment now, at any moment, someone would come in and see this filth. But this time no one came. It was late at night, and everyone was asleep. It was for the best, though. There was no need for anyone to know about their little secret. Especially, since His Majesty wouldn't tell anyone about it either.

Finally catching her breath, Nairina ran her palm caressingly over the elf's body, stopping at her breasts. After teasing it a bit with her fingertip, and getting no effect, she pulled away from Ely and got up from the bed. Sitting the obedient and submissive elf on the very edge, the younger priestess gently spread her slender legs. It's not good to use Ely for nothing, it's true. Therefore, it was necessary to thank her, even if she didn't appreciate it and didn't understand it at all. To ease her conscience. Kneeling in front of the motionless elf, the younger priestess threw back her hair and press her lips to the elf's pussy. Expectedly, Ely did not react, but Nayrina was not embarrassed. She continued to caress the elf with her tongue and lips. It was good that she had experienced such fun with her sisters in faith, even if not too much. But despite the younger priestess's efforts, Ely's pussy remained relatively dry, and she did not show any excitement. Even her breathing was even. But that only made Nayrina more excited. Come on, sweetheart, come on, it must feel good! It can't help but feel good! Suddenly, the elfess slowly slumped back on the bed, covering her azure eyes. The younger priestess froze in surprise and pulled away from licking her pussy.

"Ely? Ely?!"

"Branded slaves often cannot know the pleasures of the flesh without their master's permission."

When she heard the man's voice behind her, the priestess squeaked and tried to jump up. Of course, she got tangled in her legs and fell to the floor. A pair of strong arms picked her up sharply and brought her to her feet with a single tug. One hugged her around the waist, holding her in place, and the other clamped her mouth shut, ready to let out a shrill scream. Almost immediately, the same voice came over the panicked Nayrina's ear:

Please calm down, honorable. Don't be afraid of me, I'm not your enemy and won't harm you. I have come to save my tribeswoman. Answer my questions, honorable priestess of the Life Giver, and I will leave your abode. Without harming you in any way. Do you understand me? Nod if you do. All right, I will now remove my hand from your mouth. But please don't do anything stupid.

Nayrina nodded hastily, praying to her mistress to save her and keep her safe. The hand on her waist did not loosen its grip, but it was gone from her mouth. Licking her lips, the younger priestess whispered in a frightened voice:

"Who are you?! What do you want?!"

"I'm a kin to the branded one. Tell me, where did you get her?"

"I don't know. I swear it! We met on an islander ship, already in captivity! And she was already like this! The Reverend Amalia and two priestesses of the Lady of the Seas examined her and said her mind was dead and what was left was held together by a stigma. His Majesty then said that no one knows where or how she was captured, I heard it myself! I did her no harm, I swear it! And I've looked after her all this time!"

"And in the bed?"

"Yes... No! I mean... Please don't take this the wrong way! I didn't... I accidentally said a phrase once and Ely..."

Nayrina faltered at the last moment, remembering Alekhar's words.

"The elf, she herself, she... with her mouth, and I thought I should thank her! I didn't do anything wrong, I swear, I..."

"I believe you. Thank you. And now, good night's sleep."

After putting the priestess to sleep, Luaval laid her gently on the bed, pushing the previously sedated elf to the side. The dark elf covered the sleeping priestess with a blanket and then focused on the light elf. Wow, what an unexpected encounter! With a cluck of his tongue, Luaval praised himself for not being too lazy to check the information he'd overheard and pulled out a few of his special tools. There was a reason he carried them with him, as he knew they would come in handy. A small metal disk with the help of a leather belt was tightly fastened to the elf's head. So that it rested right on top of the branding on her forehead. As soon as it was in place, it flashed with red light, and the unconscious elfess twitched, but immediately calmed down. Uh-huh...

Astonishing carelessness. How could you keep an unknowingly branded slave without checking her out? Though the girl said the priestesses examined her. But the priestesses of the Goddess of Fertility and the Sea are not Mind Magic professionals. Or Masters of the School of Branding. And it's okay the priestesses of the Giver of Life, but the Islanders were in contact with the people of the Underworld and should know how dangerous branded slaves could be. Especially so special as the firstborn.

Luaval, amazed at the carelessness of the humans, finished preparing the tribeswoman for carrying, not forgetting to assess her breasts, which had doubled in size since their last meeting. In the dark elf's opinion, however, it was to her advantage. In addition to the branding suppressor, she wore a thin collar of silver and a pair of ankle and wrist bracelets. All covered in intricate carvings and infused with magic to the max. That should be enough to control the branded one. Eh, he'll have to carry her around with him now. But there's no way to leave a find like this behind. All right, time to go.

The dark elf stopped abruptly when he felt another hand on his groin. It was cold and clearly female, and it was quite tangibly squeezing him right through the robes of the Dungeon Hunter. After a few moments, the sensation was gone, and Luaval exhaled. The hint was more than transparent. Bowing his head, the dark elf hurriedly whispered a short prayer of apology. Then, taking off his hood mask, he carefully pulled aside the blanket from the peacefully sleeping priestess. Gently taking her by the waist, he slid the woman so her legs were hanging off the edge of the bed. Kneeling in front of her, the dark elf gently pulled them apart, gazing at her bosom. Neat pussy, a thin vertical strip of dark pubic hair. Tolerable. It had been a long time since he'd last done this. Back when his House had been.

With a sigh of doom, Luaval leaned forward and ran the tip of his tongue over the younger priestess's pussy, recalling his experience with the older women of the House. Despite her sleep, the Gaia attendant, who was being pleasured by the second firstborn for the in one night, moaned softly, and her breathing quickened, causing her hardened nipples to heave seductively. And why not? As he continued his quick tongue between the sleeping priestess's legs, Luaval reached forward and squeezed her breasts affectionately. Nice tits. Pressing his index fingers against the hardened nipples of the sleeping priestess, Luaval began to gently knead her breasts. Habitual roughness could be costly now. He wanted to squeeze her hard, though!

His thoughts of the beautiful were interrupted by a particularly loud groan as the sleeping priestess reached the peak of bliss for the second time that night, trying to squeeze her legs together through her sleep. Grinning contentedly, Luaval shivered, wiped his face and chin with the edge of the sheet, and rose to his feet. At the same moment, he felt the woman's hand in his groin again. Only a warm one, and this time it felt a pleasant heat in his lower abdomen, and he was breathless with pleasure. It lasted only a couple of moments, and then the sensation was gone. But he was sure that it would be much easier to conceive a new life now. Well, pleasuring a pretty priestess with his mouth wasn't a bad way to get a small blessing from the Life-Giver. Once again, Luaval whispered a short prayer of thanks to Gaia, and then he shouldered the unconscious tribeswoman, wrapping the lucky priestess carefully again.

The way back home took a little longer, and the dark elf reached the merchant's house two hours before dawn. The dark elf reached the merchant's house an hour before dawn. Once inside, he laid the sleeping elf next to the sleeping Gion and then began to prepare for rest. But first, a set of restorative procedures. Check the defenses are working. And most importantly. Taking out the artifact journal, Luaval took the stylus and wrote:

Guess who's lying next to me right now?

* * *

The diplomacy of the Elf Queen.