Watchful Elfin Eyes

     She watched the rolling of the cart's wheels, just barely seeing the top of the wood and iron rims above the high sides of the cart. Brilliant green eyes were cloaked by a hazy gray veil, and her throat was dry and raw from the long, dusty journey.
     A cackle of laughter was heard from the old crone on the cart's wooden seat. Pleased with herself, the girl supposed. The crone had a name, though seldom was it used or remembered.
     Her hair was matted gray, clothes ragged and dirty, a bare semblance of leather boots on her feet, despite chests of gold, silver, and copper coin. Another haggard beggar most others thought, not finding the shrewd, cruel mind and soul beneath fissured, weathered features.
     "Crone, where are we?" A hard edge was present in normally light, musical tones, as veiled green eyes traveled to the back of the crone's head. One shot from the bow, she thought with pride and just arrogance, would split the crone's head, leaving easy pickings for the carrion birds and animals of the land.
     "Shut up, Elf Witch. Ye'll know when we gets there." The crone stated harshly, and again laughed.
     There were six people in the cart, four women and two men. All were bound hand and foot, but only one was veiled. The crone was superstitious. The Elf had to be veiled, to prevent 'powers' from being used against the crone herself. They'd traveled for several days, all bound and cramped in the back of the cart. Their journey was near its end.
     I'm not a witch, I'm a Ranger, the young elf woman thought expressively to herself, ten years of intense training flashing across an agile mind. She'd shown exceptional weapons skills as a child in her tree village, and was chosen to be a Ranger for her band's army. Rarely women were allotted the position of Ranger, though frequently they served their people well in other areas of the army. Ella-Tasha, or Tasha as she was most often known as, the young Ranger, was extremely proud of her status, but where had it gotten her now?
     "Hush Young Elf," came a cultured male voice next to her, "you'll anger her. I know where we travel to: the peninsula, and the traders there. It's like a huge village market, anything bought and sold, and we are to be sold to the Slavers."
     As blue eyes tried to peer through the misty veil over Ella-Tasha's face. His tones were older than his face. He was human, but other-worlder too, a mixed breeding. Their world had grown leery of mixed blood peoples, but Tasha cared not.
     "Slavers? What price would be paid for all of us?" Tasha's quick mind recoiled intensely at the thoughts of slavery, loss of freedom, but she knew her only act now would be survival, at all costs.
     "Most of us will fetch little gold, but you, and the young Druid lad will fetch much more to her. Elves are rare prizes and are known to serve well. Druids too--" His words were cut off, as the crone turned her horse whip on him, opening the right shoulder of his coarse tunic, but not reaching the soft flesh beneath it. Tasha turned and hissed in an instinctive motion.
     "Shut up. You, Elf Witch, your fate will ... hell and damnation, I'll be glad of being rid of the likes of ya all," the crone stated, her words coarse and vulgar.
     Silence reigned then as the country side moved past in a monotonous wave of blending colours. Green trees beckoned Tasha to them, to give reverence, to be protected high in sturdy branches and under cool green leaf canopies. She was, after all, a Wood Elf, born in the trees.
     If it took all of her strength, she would die in the tree tops too. As she idly watched, hearing sounds of a water's edge drawing closer, Tasha became aware of a gaze on her. Slowly she turned, connecting with dark brown, fathomless eyes, intense on her face. The eyes of the Druid. Tasha didn't know much about Druids, only that they were trusted allies of Elves, and every Elf was sworn to help the Druids in whatever way possible, should they be asked.
     There was something else in his eyes, a rebellion of sorts. Tasha's interest was piqued, but freedom was a more pressing matter, more necessary than finding out about this Druid male.
     The smell of water became so strong around them, that Tasha turned her face to the light breeze, and could then smell the salt of large water in the air. The cry of sea birds haunted the air, and Tasha knew, they all knew, they were at the sea's edge.
     "Hee, hee, hee ... we're early. The Traders aren't here yet. When I stops this cart, we make camp, and wait." The crone stated, her tones, under other circumstances would have been joyfully infectious. Tasha's facial features, if the rest could have seen them, were contorted in a hard snarl.
     A short while later, the crone stopped the cart on the shore, at the edge of the tree line. Camp was made at the edge of the vegetation, before the soft pale sand of the sea's edge cut its ribbon along the shore. It was obvious that many others had camped here before them. Several stone fire circles scattered the shore, and the vegetation was almost uniformly cut back.
     "Come on with ya, out and git to work if ya want ta eat," The crone snapped, causing Tasha to clench her jaws tightly together. She'd keep quiet if it killed her, until the time was right to break free. Awkwardly, the bound captives slowly exited the cart, muscles long cramped from the ride, refusing to stretch to accommodate movement. The crone watched in irritation, but held back her words. She knew well what old muscles did, and knew no amount of cursing or convincing would alter the fact that bodies didn't want to move. She also knew, with an evil smile crossing her face, that the whole lot of them would have much more energy when the Slavers arrived. As she watched, three other carts arrived, with various wares in them, and all greeted the crone with familiarity, calling her just that: Crone.
     Once everyone was out of the cart, Tasha finally got to appraise the others bound with her. The Druid was a large man, larger than she had seen, but her experience with them was minimal. She'd always been told that Druids were average sized, like human males, but this one was tall, taller than she was. She normally was a couple of hands taller than human males, and this Druid was a full head or so taller than she was. He was lean and well muscled, not at all like she'd pictured a Druid. They were most often scholars, and that tended to lead them to being portly.
     "You, Elf Witch, come here ... now, girl." The crone stated, her whip in hand, and a shining short sword in hand. She'd never be unarmed, not with prizes for the Slavers. Bound prisoners had a way of always being innovative and surprising you to your death most often.
     Tasha kept silent, and moved to the crone, who immediately pushed her to the sand-dirt near the rear cart wheel, and bound her securely there. Obviously, Tasha thought, I am her greatest prize. Green eyes, veiled and hidden, were narrowed in anger, and she vowed that before her long elfin days were over on their world, she would end this crone's existence.
     "Tree man, come here…" The crone continued, and the Druid moved obediently to her side. She repeated her action, securing him to the front cart wheel on the same side as Tasha. There would be no escape from her two most important prizes.
     Tasha and the Druid watched silently as the others were made to gather wood and start a fire. Soon, they were secured to the cart as well, except for the mixed blood male, though his hands were bound securely, to serve as the crone's servant. As he made a rough semblance of a stew for them, and dispensed water to all from a goat skin bag, the crone intensely watched the arrival of several more loaded carts, one filled with dark skinned peoples.
     "Eat your fill. Who knows when you'll see another meal, after the Slavers git here at sun's rise." The crone laughed, and began to eat her stew.
     Thus began their long night of waiting. The constant motion of arriving carts, traders grouping together, flasks of ill-made liquor appearing, and jovial attitudes taking over the free ones around several dozen fire circles. It was like a huge annual market day, thought Tasha, only she was the one, or one of the ones, to be sold. The crone tethered the mixed breed to the cart, and confidently left them, to journey to free flowing alcohol, and perhaps some gambling to aid her gold and silver stashes.
     "Elf, you have a name ... one that I may call you?" the mixed breed asked. Though now on a long piece of leather tied to the cart, he had the ability to escape.
     "Aye, Ella-Tasha, but Tasha most times. Why do you not free yourself? What is your name?" Tasha talked in a soft tone, her eyes wandering from him to the location of the crone, and back in quick movements.
     "My name is Kao, and I was sold to the crone, by my mother, to be rid of me permanently... She was taken by an other worlder, by force, and I came to be. I have been her embarrassment, and she needed rid of me. My world is servitude. Though schooled, I have no other future. Tasha, it is a nice name." Kao tones were docile, knowing. If his story is true, Tasha thought, at least he accepted what the Fates gave to him.
     "You have a way about you, Tasha. You are not a normal elfin woman."
     "I am an elfin woman, but a Ranger. Have you knowledge of the Slavers? Where do they hail from?" She hoped to gain some idea of how to win her freedom.
     "I know little," Kao told her, "save that they come across the sea only in the summer time, and gather as many slaves as possible. They are said to be mostly fair, but there are two groups that are not. Cruel, barbaric. It is told to me that the crone deals only with them." Tasha's eyes cut to movement beside her, as the Druid tried to move closer to their conversation.
     "Druid, you listen and do not speak, when you have free reign to do so. You have a name? A position by which to call you?" Tasha asked bluntly; his silence was annoying her.
     "I am a second level cleric, Barrat by name. Where are your weapons, Ranger?" His voice was so crisp, Tasha felt as if he had reached out and slapped her hard across the face.
     "Gone. The crone got them when she captured me," Tasha curtly explained, green eyes narrowed in annoyance. He set her on edge.
     "Errors in your judgement may one day see you dead, far from your beloved tree's safety," the Druid stated. She hissed; he spoke as if he saw into her very thoughts.
     "Clerics can do that, Ranger," he snapped. "Guard your thoughts well." Now, she wanted to reach out and slap him.
     "Hush now," Kao warned, "the crone returns. Be safe. There are lights on the calm waters. The Slavers arrive, early too." All eyes turned to the moonlit glassy water surface, where sparkling lights reflected with a mystical quality.
     There were three distinct groupings of lights, caused no doubt by large lanterns. The entire encampment of peoples seemed to be pushed into motion, as large vessels made their way slowly to the water's edge. The process seemed almost sublimely slow, but too soon for all, the great heavy wooden crafts reached the shores. Large, barbarian males and females, dressed in pieces of leather and skins, armed with gleaming swords and staffs, made their way through the shallow water to the sand. Several groups greeted them, and immediately the crone took a very large male aside, bringing him to her small camp.
     "Well, Crone, a fair lot ... a fair lot indeed. This ... this is an elf ... mayhap did you come across it?" The large, dark eyed barbarian stood with his feet planted apart, hands on slim hips. He was a very large man, one thigh nearly the size of Tasha's slim waist.
     "She sort of fell into my care ... so she did. Her weapons are of the best quality, a fair price for them alone, I thinks. Up, Elf Witch," the crone demanded, pulling Tasha roughly to her feet, free of the cart.
     "She..? Well, even better. Uncloak her," the barbarian ordered. The crone not only pulled the veil off of Tasha's face, but the muted brown and green cloak from around her shoulders as well, baring her to her waist. The bindings of her hands and feet held the cloak securely in place.
     Tasha stood proudly, her shoulders squared, watching the barbarian through narrowed green eyes. She wore a sleeveless tunic of leather and soft pale doe skin, a leather harness for her pair of short swords across her chest and back, emphasizing her ample chest, and accentuating her slim, willowy like form. On her harness, the medallions of her station in life were proudly displayed, and the golden amulet of her Elfin family line hung stately between her breasts, but was hidden from view, save for its golden chain. Long raven hair was plaited back, allowing her to fight, and adequately showing the fine cut of her chin, cheeks and brow. Her elongated, pointed elfin ears heard much, and were quick to pick up the sounds of appreciation from the barbarian male as he saw her. She also heard the small intake of breath from both Kao and Barrat.
     "Well, well, a fine figure she cuts. A Ranger too. Where's her mate? She's too old not to have one. Did you get him as well?" The barbarian asked, stepping close to Tasha. She was prepared to recoil at the smell of him, knowing all barbarians stank, but he did not, the scent around him was spicy, wood-like, and pleasant to the senses.
     "No mate, leastwise that I found."
     "I be her mate," came Barrat's voice, causing all to turn eyes towards him. His voice was calm and decisive, and Tasha's mind recoiled only briefly. A cleric would know things she did not, and she had to stay now with the Druid. She'd been sent on a mysterious quest, and perhaps he was part of this quest.
     "Aye, Barrat and I were mated neigh on a year hence," Tasha confirmed confidently, forcing a gentle, but proud edge to her words.
     "Druid and Elf, well, not totally unknown, but rare now. We'll keep them together, for a time. Come, Crone, let's settle this away from here." The barbarian stated pulled the crone away towards his ship, but not before she rebound Tasha to the cart.
     "You will cause the death of me, Ranger," said the Druid's words, causing her to hiss at him directly, green eyes full of hatred. He was the one that set up this charade, and now had the nerve to tell her she was at fault.
     The wait was not truly long, yet seemed forever. Tasha looked over at Barrat, and found him watching her, as the sounds of merriment reached them from along the beach. The other prisoners' fates were unknown, but Tasha prayed to the gods that Kao would be protected, even if it meant that he had to stay with the crone.
     Near moon rise, the barbarian returned, and took both Tasha and the Druid, along with a young pair of dark skins, to his large, wooden ship. There were a great many of other slaves there, and there were male and female barbarians everywhere.
     Immediately, they were all shoved below into several small cabins. There were only bunks and musty blankets. Tasha was surprised as the barbarians removed her and Barrat's bindings. They were then locked within the confines of the cabin, the door having only a small bared window.
     "You will stay here until we reach our port. Have fun. You may not get to sample each other's delights until after our journey is completed," the barbarian that bought them said, as they door was locked.
     Tasha looked around the room, rubbing the circulation back into her wristsas she moved. It was sparse accommodations, but better than she had seen the last few moons.
     "Well, are we going to sample each other's delights, as we are mated?" The Druid asked solemnly.
     Tasha turned quickly to stare at him with murderous thoughts.