The Path to Destiny: Tia's Folly (13 page)

           
“You’re right, that
is
private.” She looked at the guard and at her companion.
There was no way she was relaying that story with an audience!
“I
think it is best if we talk in your tent, with my protector within earshot.”

           
Hesitating, she followed him reluctantly to the tent and
began to enter behind him. Pausing within the doorway, she looked back at her
appointed bodyguard and watched as he stopped a few feet away from the door.
Seeing his nod and his small smile – on him it kind of looked like a grimace
but she was sure it was a smile – she continued into the tent feeling a little
more confident. She was vastly relieved to see that it was very different from
Bylan’s tent. Instead of chained poles, there was a small table with cushions
surrounding it. She was greatly comforted to note that his bed was rolled up
and tucked into a corner.

           
“Please, take a seat.” Lord Scythe indicated the table as
he walked over to a small chest and retrieved parchment and ink. Watching her
take a seat, he deliberately seated himself directly across the table from her
hoping the distance would ease her mind. “I know this will be uncomfortable,
and I am sorry a female isn’t here to do this with you, but I need to know what
happened.”

           
“Where should I start?” Tia asked as she nervously played
with the edge of her sleeve.

           
“We know you were summoned to Gremlaw under false
pretenses. What we don’t know, exactly, is what he did to you. Because of the
enchantment on his tent, no one could hear or see what was happening inside.”
She could see compassion in the man’s grey eyes.

           
“Well, I guess I should just warn you, he didn’t just
attack me.” She looked grimly at him. “He raped Roland too.”

           
Confusion and shock clearly showed on the man’s face at
her words. He blinked rapidly as he opened his mouth; a strange gurgling noise
came out before he snapped it shut again.

           
“Tea!”
The Lord cried hoarsely
to the guard outside before addressing Tia again. “I am hoping I am wrong but -
exactly
how
does a
man
rape
another
man
?
   

Scenes
from that night flashed through her head, and Tia took a deep breath before
beginning.

           
“Bylan ordered Roland kneel before him and when my bonded
refused to tell Bylan that he was a God, Roland was forced to suck on his cock
and to drink the juices. Bylan then lashed him face down on a table and put his
cock in Roland’s bum.” Tia met his eyes and dared him to call her a liar.
“Next, Bylan staked him out across the ground, forced me to suck on Roland
until he got hard, and put something he called a “cock ring” on Roland. He then
lashed my hands to Roland’s, made me lie on top of him, put Roland’s cock
inside himself, and
raped me at the same
time
!”

           
Tia dispassionately observed the nobleman. She was sure
Lord Scythe would never be the same. His eyes bulged at her, his mouth hung
open, and his face was the color of strawberries in July. He appeared to be
gasping for air but she was sure he was simply in shock.

           
“That was actually pleasant compared to some of the other
things he did to us.” She watched –mildly amused - as his pallor changed
rapidly to white and his eyes rolled back in his head as he fainted. Rising to
her feet, Tia tried not to giggle as she walked around the table to make sure he
was unharmed before exiting the tent.

           
“Your Lord has fainted,” she informed the immediately
suspicious guard as she turned away and started walking towards Roland’s hut.
The other Druid walked besides her, not saying a word. Tia was oddly comforted
by the silence and was grateful to him for not trying to talk to her. Reaching
Roland’s hut, she thanked her impromptu guard and went inside.

           
Tia guessed that she wasn’t really surprised to see Uren
first. Looking at the bed, she could see that Roland was fast asleep and
correctly ascertained that Uren had already slipped him his sleeping draught.

           
“And now, it is time for this old bag of bones to get
some sleep.” He winked as he slowly stood up and stretched the creaks out of
his body.

           
“You are seventy-four years old! That is hardly a bag of
bones.” Tia shook her head at her Elder with a jaunty grin.

           
“And one lucky old fool,” he retorted. “I realized
tonight that I should have died at Gremlaw. I chose to stay in the village and
remain your mentor instead of moving to Gremlaw when I turned 70. I could have
bonded, had children, and been a council member. Because I have always loved
you like a daughter, I am one of the few of the Elders left. And I am
definitely the youngest.”

           
“You are so weird,” Tia giggled at her elder. “You will
be old when you pass two hundred years old, if you live to three hundred, you
will be ancient.”

           
Scrunching up his face to make wrinkles, Uren bent over
to walk like an old man. Tia laughed at his antics and shook her head. Her Elder
didn’t have a single wrinkle on his face, or a gray hair on his head. Someday,
if he lived that long, she knew he would. But the gray hair should be at least
another fifty years away, along with his first wrinkle.

           
“Go to bed Uren!” She pointed to her door and smiled
gently. In reality, she was hurting a little inside from bonding with Roland
and was eager to go to sleep herself.

           
“In all seriousness Tia,” he stopped joking around, “This
council has been at an impasse for a month. They
need
you to guide them.” Stepping forward, he kissed her on the
cheek before heading for his own bed.

           
Watching the door close behind him, Tia chewed on her
bottom lip and hoped the Gods knew what they were doing.
The Gods had to know how horribly she had failed last time!

***

           
“You ask us to
dishonor
our fallen comrades, friends, and family!” The ugly Troll growled.

           
“A Druid could never understand!” Declared the Drow king,
“After five hundred years, our dead
demand
nothing less than victory
!”

           
“But this war is not worth more lives,” Tia reasoned as
gently as she could even though inside she was truly exasperated. “To get to
this point, Centaurs
tricked
Roland
into teaching the races a very powerful magical spell to give them the power to
beat the Phoenix. Then they convinced him to use this spell to assist them in
the war even though he would face grave consequences if he did. Even with this
power, the Great Battle was still a massacre. Think about the races that are
gone, that have
no one
here to
represent them; Centaurs, Fairies, Water Sprites, Nymphs, Satyrs, Gnomes, and
the Dragons. Look at what it did to Humans; they have
lost their magic
! Putting pride before reason is how this war has
lasted for
five hundred years
!”

           
“HA!” A Vampire called from behind her, “We have been
forced to curse our descendants for eternity to retain our powers!
But we were strong enough to do it
!
Don’t blame the Humans’ weakness on anyone but themselves!”

           
Tia’s patience was worn thin day in and day out with the
leaders of the races stuck on a litany of excuses and complaints. No agreement
was good enough for them and as yet another moon cycle passed, she dismayed
ever finding a peaceful treaty.
 
Though
she knew this was her duty, she resented the little bit of time she had left
with Roland being dominated by these stubborn leaders.

Finally,
one day the tone of the group began to change.

           
“There were eighty of us who went to battle,” a weary Elf
announced suddenly to the ring of leaders. “Eighty men and women marched
proudly from our clan to the Great Battle. We fought by the Phoenix’s side and
yet I am the only survivor.
How
do I
go home and
face
my people?”

           
“One hundred Falkeries went to battle,” Faye replied. “We
are
Demi-Gods
and seventy of our
people died.”

           
“Three hundred Trolls stood against the Phoenix.” The
Troll king pursed his lips. “None of my soldiers came home.”

           
“Druids sent no one and only I ever willingly stepped
foot on the battle field,” Roland spoke up to add the Druids to the toll. “This
war killed over two thousand Druids in the last year.”

           
“For the last forty years, a Satyr has been at my side. I
considered him my best friend.” A Human lay his head down to cry. “I grieve for
him more than all of my lost Human friends and comrades combined!”

           
For the next week, Tia allowed them to grieve the lost.
She thought it was the way to peace for the lands. Little did she know that she
would get the peace agreement from it but in a way she never could have
expected.

Somehow,
the grieving turned into plotting. And the Phoenix Lord listened intently to
their crazy plans. Tia tried in vain to make them see the error of their
thinking, but there was a sense of helplessness that lay behind the plans that
she couldn’t get through to.

           
Tia pleaded with them to see; to understand that their plan
was
not
the way to peace. Out of
desperation, she refused to grant the leaders leave of the Peace Council
without a treaty. Less than one day later, a signed and sealed treaty was in
her hands as the leaders hastily made plans and sent guards ahead as messengers.

           
What should have been a great victory for Tia – the
signing of a treaty – instead was a nightmare. She couldn’t allow what they
were planning, yet she had no power to stop it! Feeling totally defeated, Uren
found Tia and Roland slumped over their evening tea. Neither spoke a word as
Uren entered and joined them at their table. Tia continued to absently stir her
tea and Roland looked anywhere but at Uren.

           
“Surely the treaty isn’t that bad?” Uren eyeballed the
sealed parchment lying in the center of the table before attempting a small
joke. “You didn’t sign over all Druids into slavery or anything. Did you?”

           
Tia just burst into tears at the joke and Roland softly
shook his head in response.

           
“Get a hold of yourselves!” Uren said in his most authoritative
voice after neither of them spoke for a few minutes. “I want a detailed oral
report on the contents of the treaty from Roland! Tia, when he is finished, I
want an oral report from you on the Peace Council. If something is wrong, you
can’t fix it by mopping around!”

           
“Uren,” Roland kept his voice even and his manner direct.
“All beings have agreed to end the five hundred year Great War with a five
hundred year peace treaty. All beings keep their lands and cannot stake a claim
or
ownership of any of the deceased races' lands for
five hundred years. The Phoenix
agree
to merge their lands with the Humans’ and take responsibility for their race...
All of this is contingent on a ritual they will complete at the next new moon.
Since the Druids - and our Gods - have absolutely
refused
to be a party to this
unprecedented
ritual. I agreed to represent the Druid race since the Gods have condemned me
to death anyway.
 
I just figured they
really can’t do anything more to me, so - if I am still alive at the time – I
will do it, and the leaders then agreed to the peace treaty.”

           
“Why do you have to be there?” The confusion was plain to
see on Uren’s face.

           
“All the races have to be represented…one Druid is all
they need.”

           
“Hum…Tia, your report?” Uren obviously didn’t understand
the importance of Roland’s words as he moved on to Tia without any reaction.

           
“I messed up Uren!” She immediately admitted before
rushing on. “I thought it was best to let them grieve. Somehow they turned that
into this awful plan to create a single being that will be born to the people
of the Gods’ choice but I don’t believe
any
being - but the Falkeries or the Phoenix - is strong enough to bear such a
child! The Gods would never give this being to the Falkeries, I just know it! I
don’t know why but I feel it in my soul! We have half a moon cycle to stop
this, and with Gremlaw dying,
we don’t
have the strength
!”

           
“I don’t understand.” Uren looked at the others with a
slightly confused expression. “What is so terrible about this new being? Why
wouldn’t the Gods give this being to the Falkeries?”