Many miles north of Daylith, the sun was rising over the elven city of Carus. A slave maiden named Thistle woke to find the slave quarters in an uproar. New human slaves had been captured in a skirmish by the Talfane River. They were being brought to the palace for sorting.
"Nora, what's happening?" Thistle asked as she struggled to pin her long, dark hair up in a bun.
She was jogging behind the gray-haired dwarf towards the kitchen. Nora had been Thistle's caretaker for as long as she could remember. Nora was four and a half feet tall and stout as a tree stump. Thistle's tall, willowy frame looked very delicate in contrast to Nora.
"Fresh slaves coming in this morning! I was promised a young apprentice with a strong back to help with the farm animals. I get first pick! Hurry up, sweetheart. Ya can pin yer hair up later," Nora said as she grabbed Thistle's slender arm and pulled her down the stone corridor, causing her to drop her hairpins.
"Blast it!" Thistle huffed as they scattered across the stone floor.
They quickly disappeared into the drainage gullies along the walls. Her beautiful dark hair fell over her shoulders and into her face like a shiny veil. She would have to tuck it behind her ears. She hated doing that because she was extremely self-conscious about her ears. She was a high elf, but her ears were half the normal height.
"Don't worry, silly. I'll get ya some new pins tomorrow," Nora said cheerfully.
Thistle knew Nora was good for her word, but she never understood how the old dwarf developed so much clout with the royals. She was the only slave in the castle that could get new hairpins or clothes within a day of declaring she needed them.
Nora pulled Thistle through the kitchen and out the back door. The morning was cool, and the sun was just peeking over the trees. A small crowd of palace slaves stood in the service yard to see the new arrivals. Nora pushed her way to the front with Thistle in time to see the slave cart appear over the hill. It was being drawn by a humongous white draft horse. Thistle loved the beautiful animal. She often wished she could ride one, but they were honored creatures. Slaves were never allowed to mount them.
A tall, golden-haired elf was driving the horse. His traditional red and gold tunic over leather armor marked him as a palace sentry. Two more sentries were standing on the back of the prisoner cart. They halted in front of the small crowd of slaves and opened the cage door. They led the human prisoners out and lined them up on their knees in the grass.
There were four humans in all. They were dirty and battle-worn, but they looked healthy and proud. Two of the men had dark beards and old battle scars. They were clearly middle-aged warriors. Thistle knew they would be taken to the fields and quarries where they would be watched by other warriors. One of the men had gray hair and was slender. He would be put to work with other palace slaves. The most fidgety prisoner had no beard. His body was lean, and his skin was mostly fair, with little or no battle scars. He had messy brown hair that fell in shiny strands over his forehead. He was looking at the crowd of slaves warily.
Thistle caught her breath when she saw his face. He was handsome for a human. His eyes were bright hazel mixed with gray, and his face was stern and inviting. He was scanning the crowd. His eyes met hers for a short second and then continued on. Thistle blinked when his gaze jumped back to her. He stared at her for a moment, then he mouthed the words "help me." She watched in confusion as he fell face-first onto the ground.
"Oh no! He needs help!" she yelled as she pushed around Nora and ran over to the fallen man.
"Ya stupid ass, come back!" Nora bellowed, but she didn't dare run towards the elf sentries.
"Go back to the others!" ordered the head sentry.
"Please, he needs help," Thistle insisted as she knelt beside the young human and touched his neck to find a pulse.
She looked at his hands that were bound behind his back and quickly noticed something was wrong. The rope had been frayed and was no longer tied around his wrists. He was simply holding it. She gasped in realization of his trick, and that's when he shot up like a snake and grabbed her. He jerked her into his lap, putting her between himself and the sentries. He had been hiding a small knife that he pressed firmly against Thistle's throat.
"Release her!" growled the sentries as they pointed their spears at him and Thistle.
"I think not," he announced over Thistle's shoulder. His voice was deep and determined. "I'll be taking my leave of you. If you follow me, this woman dies."
The head sentry laughed at his threat and stepped closer to Thistle. That made the young man grab her arm and twist it, causing her to cry out. The sentry stopped at that point with rage spreading across his face.
"Just as I thought," the young man said smugly. "She may be a slave, but she's still an elf. You bastards can't stand the thought of a human hurting one of your own."
Tears began spilling from Thistle's eyes as the young human pinched and twisted her arm.
"Please, let me go," she whispered.
"Shh, I'll try not to hurt you. Just stay calm," he whispered against her ear. His breath was hot, and he smelled strangely pleasant. She had never smelled anything like him before. "Stand with me," he whispered as he began to pull her to her feet. They stood and backed away from the sentries, edging closer to the palace slaves. "When I say run, I want you to run with me to the right and make a break for the gate. I'll protect you if you help me," he whispered earnestly.
She nodded as she stared down the sentries' spears, wondering how badly they wanted to recapture the brash human.
"Ready?" he whispered as he loosened his grip on her arm, preparing to run.
Suddenly, a loud CLANG startled Thistle and she yelped. The young human dropped his knife and let go of her arm as he collapsed on the ground behind her. She twirled around to see Nora standing over the young man with a large iron skillet in her hand. The sentries were bent with laughter after that. The head sentry walked over to Nora and patted her on the back.
"Well done, madam dwarf! You shall be commended for this act of bravery," he said with a smile.
"Bravery, my fat ass! That pathetic whelp hurt my baby girl! It was vengeance!" she bellowed.
Everyone laughed even more as they clapped and cheered for Nora.
"Either way, be thinking of what you would like in terms of a reward. You defended one of our race. That's an honorable action even if she is only a slave. Are you all right, young miss?" asked the sentry as he looked at Thistle.
Her face turned crimson after being so politely addressed by a royal sentry. She never knew that simply being an elf made her valuable to other elves.
"I'm all right, thank you," she whispered with an innocent nod as she kept her eyes to the ground.
"Ah, it's a shame to see a beautiful maiden as a slave. What a strange deformity," whispered the sentry as he gently touched Thistle's right ear, making her shudder. He had never seen ears so short on an elf maiden. He assumed she was deformed and sickly, but her beauty said otherwise. "Please, madam dwarf, continue to protect her. Now... what shall we do with this wild human?" he asked as he turned his attention to the unconscious man and nudged him with his spear.
"I want the whelp," Nora declared. "I'll work his ass off in the slaughterhouse for what he did."
"Are you sure, madam? We're not entirely sure what he is. He can fight, but he is not a seasoned warrior. He may be too much for you to handle."
"I'll be fine, thank ya very much. We'll keep him sedated until he learns his place. Tom, get the meds!" Nora yelled to the slave quarter doctor as she handed her skillet to Thistle.
