Elfsorrow

'Must we steal from our sisters to survive?' he slurred through his partly paralysed mouth.

'She won't share,' said one of the boys, his eyes sunken into a face gaunt with hunger.

'But does she have enough to share, I wonder?' asked Selik. 'And would you have shared with her, eh?'

He turned his head to see the girl, dirty-faced with short black hair and tiny ears, weighing up whether or not to run. He held out a hand. 'Stand by me, child. They won't harm you.'

Reluctantly, she did so, her hand small and fragile in his fingers. He smiled, happy she couldn't see what it did to his face.

'Now,' he said gently. 'Show me what you were so keen to have to yourself.'

The other hand came away from her chest to display her prize. It was bread, a filthy crust, but there wasn't enough to satisfy one of these tattered children and what there was came covered in dirt and speckled with lurid mould. That they would fight over this…

'I tell you what,' he said, trying to mask his disgust. 'Why don't you give me that and I'll fetch food enough for you all?'

The girl gaped in amazement but the boys, who had been shifting about nervously, unwilling to desert any potential scrap to eat, frowned in concert.

'Why would you do that?' asked the other boy, a freckle-faced lad with filthy light brown hair and dried snot on his upper lip. He wasn't dressed in rags, it was just that his clothes had been worn too long. They were shabby, but not in tatters.

'Because you are hungry and we can spare food for the three of you. And because I am a good man, following a just cause.'

'Who are you then?' asked the girl, simultaneously tightening her grip on his hand and proffering the repulsive crust.

Selik accepted it and began walking back towards his men, his horse following obediently behind him and the children. 'Well, young lady, my name is Selik and I am in charge of a group trying to help people like you and your parents and all your friends. We're called the Black Wings. Have you heard of us?'

The girl shook her head. So did the two boys who walked the other side of him. Selik felt a grim satisfaction.

'Ah well, never mind. But I tell you what. In order for us to help you and all those you love get better and for there to be more food, when I give you something to eat will you tell me where some people are?'

The girl shrugged but nodded.

'Thank you. What's your name?'

'Elise,' said the girl.

'A lovely name for a lovely girl.'

'Why do you wear a hood?' one of the boys asked abruptly.

Selik stopped and glared at him, and saw the boy shrink back. His face might have been effectively hidden but the glint of his one good eye wouldn't be.

'Because when you fight evil, sometimes you get hurt. And now my face frightens little boys and girls and they think badly of me,' he said, fighting to remain calm. 'Now then, your food.' He clicked his fingers at the nearest rider. 'Devun, give some dried meat and some of that spring fruit you found to each of these three. They are hungry and their need is greater than ours.'

Devun raised his eyebrows but unclasped a saddlebag and fetched out some wrapped packages. Giving each one a sniff as he produced it, he passed on three to Selik. The Black Wing commander unwrapped them and showed the contents to the children; two contained strips of dried meat, and one soft fruit, turning to overripe.

'Now, this food will last you a while if you're careful, and I don't want to hear that you have fought over it.' He let his gaze linger on the two boys until both shifted and nodded. 'Good. If we are to become strong again, we have to work together.'

He crouched and passed over the food, which the trio grabbed hungrily, mumbling thanks as mouths watered and eyes widened in anticipation. The dividing up began immediately.

'And your part of the bargain,' he said, dragging their attention back to him, 'is to tell me two things. Is Lord Erskan still alive?'

'Yes, he is,' said Elise. 'But he doesn't come out of the castle any more. My brother says he's sick.'

'Or hiding from his people,' said Selik under his breath. 'And do you know if there are any mages still in the town?'

There was a pause.

'I think so,' said the freckled boy, after sharing a glance with his friend. 'But I don't know where they are.'

'I'm sure you don't.' Selik stood up. 'I expect they are too ashamed to show their faces. Skulking about at night if they dare.' He breathed deep. 'Now, you three be on your way but remember this. All your hunger and all your pain was caused by magic and the people who use magic without a thought for those it affects. People like you and your families are the victims. If you find out where the mages are, you come and see me and I'll deal with them for you. Run along.'

He watched them hurry away down the main street, their voices raised in squabbles about shares but their conflict over the crust forgotten, at least until their stomachs emptied again.

Selik turned to his men. 'If there is a more eloquent demonstration of the evil we face, I have not seen it. Mount up; we're going to the castle. And we're going there proud and through the market place.'

Chapter 9

Selik and his men rode slowly through the centre of Erskan, seeing in the human ruins of the once quiet and pleasant town a reflection of all the ills afflicting Balaia. Filth covered the streets, which were deserted but for a few scavengers out on the hunt for scraps they had little or no chance of finding. The Black Wings became instant targets for beggars, of which there were many. Some had been born to it and they now fared better than their once wealthier competitors, who looked sicker and thinner than those on whom they had so recently looked down.

The market tried to struggle on but Selik didn't see a single food stall. Silver and gold were barely in evidence either. What the traders wanted in return for their cut-price goods were bread, meat and grain. At its edges, inns were closed and businesses boarded up. Those not begging or attempting to ply a trade but just walking about did so with a kind of stupefied expression. Selik understood that too. The pace of what had befallen Balaia was staggering and all but impossible to grasp.

Down side streets, bodies rotted where they had been left, some obviously months before. And though the town stank of decay and disease, in some ways it was cleaner than before. Not a stray cat or dog ran, not a rat scuttled. All in the stomachs of the desperate by now.

Selik arrived at the castle and found exactly what he had expected: portcullis lowered, doors barred shut and guards on the gatehouse battlements, bows ready.

'We have nothing!' called a voice. 'And what we have goes to our people. There's nothing here for travellers. Move on.'

'I want nothing but the ear of your Lord for a few minutes. I am Selik and this is my Black Wing guard. We have food for ourselves and our horses graze the open pastures. Might I speak with him?' Selik's good eye roved the battlements. Erskan's pennants snapped defiantly in the wind, so at least he was at home.

'What is it you wish to discuss?' asked the same voice.

Selik saw him, on the left of the gatehouse, leaning slightly out. 'Restoration of Balaia to its former glory. A subject close to all our hearts.'

There was a short conversation. The man nodded.

'You may enter. Your men remain outside.'

'Naturally,' said Selik. 'And thank you.'

He heard the sound of the portcullis being raised and saw it rise above the gatehouse walls. The doors creaked ajar. Selik rode forward alone, seeing the killing ground beyond the doors lined with soldiers. Erskan was one nervous man.