AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It is time.” Farrendel glanced at Essie, then held her hand in the elvish fashion as they both marched a few steps forward.
Julien, Averett, Rharreth, and Melantha also strode forward as the combined army of trolls, humans, and elves remained perfectly silent.
Turning his back on the enemy trolls, Farrendel grimaced as he unbuckled his swords and handed them to Essie. He then pulled his tunic and shirt over his head and handed those to Essie as well.
She didn’t need the heart bond to know how uncomfortable he felt, standing there in front of so many people with his scars exposed for all to see. His shoulders hunched, his hands giving a tremble at his sides as he clenched them into fists.
Next to them, Julien and Rharreth also stripped to the waist.
Melantha held up a bowl of black paint, and Rharreth gestured to it. “Normally, it is customary to paint runes on the combatants. Ones that speak of past battles and victories. But...” Rharreth glanced at Farrendel, his gaze sweeping over the numerous scars. “Perhaps you, Laesornysh, need no runes to boast of your past battles. Your scars already do that for you.”
Essie juggled Farrendel’s swords and shirt to touch Farrendel’s cheek, brushing her thumb over the scar there. “You have no need for shame.”
Julien cleared his throat and jabbed a thumb at Drurvas, who was still being painted while he worked himself and his followers into a frenzy. “Perhaps we should skip the paint as a contrast to that.”
Melantha dipped her finger in the bowl, all traces of the fear she had shown earlier wiped from her face. Now, she looked as hard and icy as Farrendel did. “I think you all need just one rune.”
She raised her voice as she painted a symbol on Rharreth’s forehead. “Think honor.”
For the first time, the trolls supporting Rharreth broke their silence and gave a howling war cry.
“Speak honor.” Melantha painted the same symbol on Rharreth’s cheek, then on his chest. “Love honor.”
Another war cry came from the trolls with a few smattering cheers from the human soldiers, who couldn’t understand the elvish being said but seemed to think cheering along was what they were supposed to do.
Essie swayed closer to Farrendel. This was a mirror of an elven wedding ceremony. For that ceremony, the runes were more than a mere hope but were a blessing and a binding. Perhaps it was the same here, before this solemn battle.
Instead of stopping there, Melantha painted the symbol one last time on the backs of both of Rharreth’s hands. “Fight with honor.”
The cheer from the trolls was a roar, drowning out even the frenzy that Drurvas had churned up across the way.
Melantha handed the bowl of paint to Averett, then quietly talked him through painting the symbols on Julien. Where Melantha had shouted out each blessing in elvish that seemed to be taking on a troll accent, Averett shouted in Escarlish, earning loud cheers from the Escarlish soldiers. Most of the trolls continued their howling cheers as well, giving support to this human soldier fighting at the side of their king.
Then the bowl was in Essie’s hand, and she was facing Farrendel. Unlike during their wedding, she understood what was happening and what was being said. This time, she was sending her husband off to a fight that he might not win.
Her finger trembled, much as it had during their wedding ceremony, as she dipped it into the paint and traced the symbol on Farrendel’s forehead. She spoke in elvish, since Farrendel was the warrior representing the elves. “Think honor.”
Now it was the elves’ turn to cheer, a surprisingly loud sound given the normally reserved nature of the elves. But Farrendel was their beloved Laesornysh, the elf warrior who had single-handedly saved them time and again during the war with the trolls.
The volume was helped along by the Escarlish army joining in. They, too, had witnessed the strength of Farrendel’s magic during the final battle at Gror Grar. And, thanks to Essie’s marriage, they considered him one of their own as well.
The troll army, however, fell silent. Even with Farrendel fighting at the side of their king, they weren’t ready yet to cheer for Laesornysh, the elf who had killed hundreds of their people.
Essie painted the symbol on Farrendel’s cheek, the one that wasn’t scarred. “Speak honor.”
When she painted the symbol on his chest, there was no jolt of magic the way there had been when she painted the symbol over his heart during their wedding. But the heart bond crackled strongly inside her chest. “Love honor.”
She painted the rune on the backs of Farrendel’s hands. “Fight with honor.”
The cheering reverberated from both sides of the gorge, and Farrendel shifted under the force of it.
Essie handed the bowl back to Averett after he finished a one-arm hug with Julien, murmuring something too low for Essie to hear. As Averett moved on to Farrendel, Essie launched herself at Julien, giving him a tight hug.
Julien gave her one of his bear hugs, and Essie didn’t care that they were probably smearing the symbol Averett had painted on Julien’s chest. A lump formed in Essie’s throat. If this was her last moment with Julien, what should she say to him? What words would leave both of them with no regrets as he walked into such a dangerous fight? Finally, she squeaked out, “Don’t die. I couldn’t bear it if I lost either of you.”
Julien chuckled, patted her back, then pulled out of her grip. He gently tugged on her braid. “I’ll be all right, Essie. All I’m going to do is hold a shield while that elf husband of yours does all the work.”
“I know. Just...watch his back, all right?” Essie glanced at Farrendel. Weylind had joined their group and was currently gripping Farrendel’s shoulders as if he had no intention of ever letting go. “He will go to great lengths to keep you safe with no thought of the cost to himself. Don’t let him be reckless. And don’t be reckless yourself.”
