By Amanda Pizzolatto, alias Aurora Mandeville

Word Count: 1490

Rating: G

Summary: When evil forces try to prevent a prophecy of peace from coming to fruition, Elves and Hobs must join together to stop them.

“Captain?”

The orc held up his hand, ordering silence. Their quarry lay just ahead, clustered around a blazing fire with their prisoners. Another line of orcs, with a feisty prisoner shouting protests through a burlap bag, soon joined them.

“Is it the right one?”

“It! It! How dare you?! I am a respectable hob and I demand to know what is going on!”

“Pretty sure,” mumbled the major.

“Well, you need to be absolutely sure, or else Sandor will put you to a quick end,” growled the captain of the expedition.

“I chose him based only on what we know from the prophecy, Lenik, so I’m as sure as I can be. Not my fault if more than one fits the prophecy.”

“Sandor will make it your fault if you’re wrong. But you knew that, didn’t you? Didn’t you? Galor!” Lenik rose to beat the other orc into submission, but Galor fell over, an arrow embedded in his back. The rest of Galor’s team received the same treatment.

“Elves! Lenik, we need to get . . . gah!”

“Get the prisoners and retreat!” Lenik ordered, but he was too late. In just a matter of minutes his whole squad was dead, and he was surrounded by a few elves with bows drawn. The rest tended to the prisoners.

“Well, Lenik, did you think you could get clean away when you’ve kidnapped one of the princesses?” asked the captain of the elves.

Lenik sneered, “It was worth a try, Leran, if only to see you distraught over failing to protect and save her.”

Anger flashed in Leran’s eyes, though his face was like stone. “Then you should consider yourself lucky, for if the princess had died, you would have gotten kedril.”

Lenik gave a slight snarl. “You would have given me kedril either way, alak. I’m an orc, after all; your legendary mercy and kindness is nonexistent when it comes to us.”

“That’s your fault, and you know it. But stranger things have happened,” the elf replied.

“What do you mean?”

“I will show you mercy and kindness, Lenik, though it may seem late. You are free to go. But if you do something, anything, like this again, there will be no mercy, or kindness.”

The orc growled, but took the offer and ran.

“Was that wise, Captain Leran?” asked an Elven soldier.

“I hope so, Elor, I hope so.”

“Are you the elf in charge here?”

Leran turned and found a hob scrutinizing him with caution in his amber eyes. “Yes sir, I am. Captain Galas Leran at your service. And to whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?”

The hob seemed to relax. “I am Muno Bixel, a merchant from Hobera. What exactly did those orcs want?”

“They think the four of you fulfill the prophecy.”

Muno’s eyes grew slightly wider and he glanced at the other prisoners before turning back to Leran with a confused look on his face. “I thought the prophecy only spoke of one female, not three!”

Leran laughed. “It looks like orcs have a hard time distinguishing between the genders of berserkers and dwarves. Come, we will take you home; Hobera is on the way back to our home.”

Muno bowed, completely relieved. “Thank you, Captain, it is a generous offer. I gratefully accept.”

“Good, I do not want any misfortune to befall you, not now, not ever. We will leave in the morning.”

“Again, thank you. If there is ever anything you need to ask of a merchant, don’t hesitate to ask me.”

Leran smiled. “I will keep that in mind. I do hope that I will have the pleasure of doing business with you in the future.”

“As will I. Well, I should let you get back to work, long day ahead.”

“That is true; I hope you sleep well.”

“I think I will. Well, good night.”

“Good night.”

Muno gave a slight bow before joining the others as Leran began taking stock of their surroundings and posting sentries at the best spots. Though he took every precaution and made sure all was ready in case of attack, the night passed peacefully. The morning came, bright and glorious, to find them bustling over breakfast and breaking camp. By midmorning they had split off in two directions, one group to the homes of the berserker and the dwarf, the other taking the route through Hobera to home. Their path was untouched all the way to Hobera, but Leran took no chances and kept them going at a steady pace, secretly wishing for the aid of arans and hoping that they would not meet up with dregans. He relaxed only a bit once they were within the walls of Hobera. They followed the hob from street to street until they stopped at an elaborate mansion.

“You have a fine place here,” remarked Leran. The elves marveled over the fine taste of the hob as he ran the bell.

“Thank you, Captain. I hope you do not mind this being last minute, but would you be willing to stay the night? They would look in the inns first.”

Leran smiled at Muno’s prudence. “That is very true, Master Bixel, we accept.”

Then the door opened and a young hob stood, staring in shock before grabbing Muno in a bear hug. “Muno! Where have you been? We’ve been so worried! And why are elf soldiers here?” the young hob blurted excitedly.

“Calm down, Fralla! Let us in, and I’ll explain.”

“Alright, alright, come on in. But really, Muno, what mess did you get yourself into this time?” Fralla asked as the group piled into the foyer.

The elves glanced at each other as Muno sighed. “This has to do with the prophecy, and orcs.”

Fralla’s eyes grew wide. “Oh Muno, how horrid! Thank you so much for rescuing my brother!” she exclaimed, turning to the elves.

“Not a problem, Miss Bixel,” replied Elor.

Leran rolled his eyes, for Elor seemed smitten with the young hob. Leran did have to agree, though, she was pretty with her golden locks and emerald eyes.

Fralla smiled. “Well, then, why don’t you come to the dining room and I’ll let our cook know we have company.”

They obliged and followed her to the dining room, where the prospect of actually sitting down at a table warmed their hearts. After letting his guests sit and relax for a little while, Muno showed them to the guest rooms where they deposited their belongings before following Muno back to the dining room. Soon a warm, delicious dinner was served, consisting of pea soup with bacon bits, buttery white rolls, herb-roasted lamb, garlic mashed potatoes, and a pear cake for dessert. They talked over dinner, jumping from topic to topic, mainly focusing on merchandise needed by a squad in the barracks. The princess, however, was sitting at the far end with Fralla and the cook, speaking of more feminine topics.

“Ah, that was excellent, as always, Lena,” Muno complimented the chef.

“Thanks you, Master Muno. I’m glad you’re back.”

Muno smiled warmly. “It’s good to be back among proper people, instead of with those nasty, rough orcs.”

The elves chuckled.

“As are we, Muno. Thank you, Lena, for cooking such a fine meal on such short notice.”

“It was the least I could do for my master’s rescuers.”

Leran smiled. “It was our duty, madam, but, if you don’t mind, I would like everyone in our company to get to bed. I would like to get the princess back home as quickly as possible.”

“But of course, her parents no doubt are worried about her. Please, get as much sleep as you need; we’ll have breakfast as early as possible so you may be on your way.”

“Thanks you, Muno, I greatly appreciate it. Elor, take them and secure the area. Come, Princess Milana, let’s get you to your room.” Leran held out his hand to the princess, and when she took it, escorted her to her room.

Once at the door, the princess planted a kiss on Leran’s cheek. “I knew you would find me.”

“Thank Yelwa, I did, but I don’t know what would have happened to you if we didn’t get there on time.”

“But thanks to Yelwa you did, so there is no need for you to worry.”

Leran smiled in agreement before softly pressing his lips on her hand. “That is true. Goodnight Milana.”

“Goodnight, Galas.” Milana smiled as she entered the room, then turned and closed the door.

Leran let out a soft sigh as the door clicked shut. He returned to the dining room, right as his troop returned.

“Everything is as tight as snug as an aran’s cave,” reported Elor.

“Good, you may retire for the night, but sleep on alert; orcs will attempt anything, if desperate.”

“Yes sir,” chorused the elves as they saluted their captain.

A few minutes later, the lights in the mansion went out and all was still.

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