Trouble in the Elf City by Anna del C. Dye

Trouble in the Elf City by Anna del C. Dye

Author:Anna del C. Dye
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: tolkien, battle, princess, elf, woman warrior
Publisher: Anna del C. Dye


As the elfs prepared the city’s defenses, the invaders decided to interrogate their prisoners in the forest below the gates.

“How many warriors are in yer city?” demanded Jalmar.

“Too many for you,” answered Siamuel.

His answer, however, was not welcomed by the Tahitans. Two of them grabbed him so Jalmar could punch him in the midsection, making him double up in pain.

“Leave him alone,” cried Franelee and Saphyr at the same time.

“Well, whacha know? … They train their wimmen ta beg fer ’em.” Jalmar and his bunch laughed at this, as he hit him again.

“Why… if you knew who my fa...” Franelee’s voice trailed off.

“There are thirty thousand elfs in the city,” interrupted Siamuel. He made a sound in the elfish tongue, making it sound like a moan.

Franelee held her tongue and none of her companions uttered another word. He had said, “Silence!”

“Thet’s more like it,” responded Jalmar, pleased with himself. “Now, if we take only half ev wha’ he said… we’ll be fine.”

“Ya see no problems, then?” asked one of his captains.

“No. Once we hev theah wimmen, they’ll be too crushed ta defend themselves.”

Saphyr, her mother and Franelee looked at each other, with mutual realization of the impending danger for the she-elfs.

“Why are you attacking us?” Kesan pried for information.

“’Cause we hate ya,” spat one captain, before Jalmar could answer.

“Tadren sentenced us ta slow death in thet devlish place he sent us ta.”

“He was not the only one who voted to do so,” Kesan protested.

“No, but he seggested it,” the short man answered.

“You would not have ended up out there if you had stayed in your own lands. But you had to make war and destroy Menarm,” muttered Nianen.

He received the same treatment that Siamuel had suffered from the villains. Franelee ran to him when they stopped, and he managed to steady himself on her shoulder.

“Menarm… Yes, a great job doncha think? I planned it meself,” Jalmar smirked, as if it were a very pleasant memory.

“You are a monster,” spat Nianen. “You killed women and children… You deserve to die.”

He was once again yanked from Franelee’s arms to be punished savagely by his captors. Franelee was tossed away very unceremoniously, to be caught by Siamuel, who shielded her face with his body. She struggled to get free, but he kept her tight and did not let her see Nianen being beaten.

“We’d hev preferred ta die in Wilapond than on thet island,” Jalmar growled, when they tired.

“When sumthin theah caused er wimmen end kids ta start ta die, we could do nuttin but hate ya,” finished another man.

“If we’d stayed theah, we’d be all dead, jest like de rest ev er kin,” cried Jalmar’s youngest man.

“You are talking of a plague that killed your people … and you blame us for it?”

“Tadren hed ta know what’d heppen ta us,” roared Jalmar. “He sent us theah ta die.”

When the captives heard this, it was obvious that Nianen was going to defend his father. This would be disastrous. When Nianen opened his mouth to



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