Ekleipsis (Fantasy Romance - LGBT, manXman)

3.12.

They passed one more day in the saddle, on a course that would gradually cross the Enqins'. The Essanti set up camp for the night. Kintaro never went to sleep; he paced the grounds, thinking about their strategy. He was nervous, but did not show it, and the elf was surprised to realize that he was picking up on Kintaro's mood. Probably, they were brought closer by thinking about the same person.

The next day, they met the Enqins exactly when they wanted, thanks to the elf's abilities and the chief's intuition. At midday, they were an arrow's flight away, bow-strings drawn, and the black shadow encroached on the sun, obscuring the daylight.

The Enqins were brave, battle-seasoned, but superstitious like all the barbarians. The eclipse distracted them, and some even let down their bows, pointing skyward with a cry. The Essanti, warned by Kintaro, loosed their arrows as one, mowing the enemy down. Within minutes, darkness engulfed the steppe, and, under its cover, the Essanti crashed into the Enqins. The flame-edged black disc coldly stared from the sky at the massacre.

Ithildin, holding two spare horses, had stayed out of battle on Kintaro's orders. He could see with his elf night vision even through the dark and kept on shooting, and each arrow he shot found its mark. When the dark lifted, the two sides were matched more evenly, but the outcome of the battle was still impossible to predict.

At last, Ithildin saw Kintaro reach Lielle, pull him off the horse and put him across his lap, covering him with his shield. The elf's arrows cleared a path for him through the melée and he galloped over with his prize. As the elf kept attackers at bay, Kintaro cut Lielle's ropes, wrapped him in a cloak and sat him upright in the saddle of a spare horse.

"You'll get some clothes later, though you look better naked," barked Kintaro. "Let's go."

Kintaro's horse had been wounded, so he abandoned it for another. Lielle had not yet come to his senses, and could not speak. The elf was afraid to look his way, for fear of losing his cool. They spurred their horses away.

In a few hours, they made a quick stop, set Alva on the grass and checked him over for wounds. They both kept asking, "Are you all right? Did they hurt you?"

"They did not touch me. Did not even rape me," said Alva as he came out of his stupor. He giggled nervously, "Hope I don't have to shed copious tears right this moment in profuse gratitude for being rescued? Because if I start, I am afraid I won't stop."

Lielle had, indeed, been unharmed, save for a couple of bruises on his limbs, but was gaunt and weak. Kintaro poured some wine down his throat and lifted him back in the saddle. They had to fly like the wind, and Kintaro could not load his own horse with any extra weight. By nightfall, there was no longer a risk of pursuit, but there was still the danger of running into the Enqin or Eutangha patrols. The three men had barely traded a word during the whole day.

"What about your warriors?" Ithildin asked.

"They will hold up the Enqins. Or lead them away."

"Will they ... come back?"

"The ones who live," said Kintaro curtly.

They did not sleep that night. Lielle dozed as they went, so Ithildin and Kintaro took turns sharing their mounts with him. Ithildin quietly rejoiced as he watched his beloved, alive and well, but he fretted: there was a long road through unfriendly lands before them, and it was too early to assume safety.

They were in luck and got to Niyar uneventfully, though a few times they had to go down to the ground, and their horses too, on a sign from Kintaro. Well-trained horses stayed down soundlessly in the long grass, not even twitching. Once, they spent three hours that way, as the elf caught sight of a Eutangha patrol passing along the horizon.

At Niyar, they met up with the main Essanti force led by Inagi, Kintaro's lover and right-hand man. They had left to give help as soon as Kintaro's messenger had reached them from the Creedan border. Ithildin and Alva were now safely escorted to the Essanti camp. Given the events of the last few days, Alva was going to be safer there than anyplace else.

A day later, Kintaro's men who had stayed to fight the Enqins, returned. Every single one had been wounded or scraped, but no more than ten had died, even though the enemies outnumbered them two to one. They probably had been in plenty of skirmishes along the way too. Ithildin realized he was secretly happy that during the Great War four thousand years back, the nomads had not been around yet, else the Ancient Race would have been annihilated.

Even as it was, for most mortals, the elves had become nothing more than a myth, a legend. Ithildin was the first elf the Creedans had seen in hundreds of years.

And he knew that he had been the first of the Ancient Race in centuries, to know people so well, to live among them. This knowledge was both a joy and a heavy burden. Every day among the mercurial mortals changed him irrevocably, and nothing of an elf might be left in him at the journey's end. But Ithildin was prepared to pay this price.

THE END OF CHAPTER 3

To be continued

One of the first covers for Ekleipsis, by Lando