Richard Tuttle - Elvangar

“That she does,” nodded Mistake, “but she is prone to telling tall tales. I am trying hard to break her of the habit, but it is hard. Sometimes I think she doesn’t even know what is real and what is fancy. I hope she didn’t say anything really crazy. She embarrasses me sometimes.”

“Actually,” grinned Wendal, “we barely had time to say hello before you arrived. I hope you have time later to stop by for a chat. I would like to know what you have been up to.”

“I will try,” Mistake said cheerily as she left the stall and hurried to catch up to her friends.

Mistake caught up with the others and guided them out of the market and into a large well-groomed park. She paused when they were free of passersby.

“What did you tell Wendal?” asked Mistake.

“Not much,” frowned MistyTrail. “Why are you upset? I thought he was your friend?”

“In a way he is,” shrugged Mistake, “but that does not mean that I share things with him freely. Wendal is the most expensive merchant in Khadora. He buys and sells anything that commands a large price.”

“Well I wasn’t going to steal any of his wares,” pouted MistyTrail, “if that is what you were worrying about. That is your thing, not mine.”

“That is not what I was talking about,” Mistake retorted angrily. “Sometimes what commands a large price in Khadora is information. Did you stop to think that some people might pay to know that there are elves in Khadora? Emperor Marak asked us not to share any information with anyone until we talked to him first.”

“Well we ought to go see him then,” countered MistyTrail. “There is no reason for us to stand in this park debating it. Let’s go.”

Eltor and Caldal had dismissed the conversation when it started. The elves stood in the park gazing at the Imperial Palace. The massive white building sat behind a high black metal fence with gates sprinkled along its length. They watched people coming and going and saw soldiers marching in and out the doors in a wide variety of uniforms.

“Are you sure that this emperor will even speak to us?” asked Eltor. “We may have to wait days just to find out if he will speak to us.”

“He will speak to us,” assured Mistake as she exhaled in frustration. “Come on. Let’s get this over with. I am tired of being a shepherd.”

Mistake led the way through the park to the black fence. She opened one of the gates and marched the group to the steps leading to the door. Four Imperial soldiers stood guard outside the door. They stared at the small group as they approached. Mistake winced as she imagined what they must look like. Eltor and Caldal were still dressed in the Motanga uniforms they had stolen. The garish red uniforms were torn and ill fitting. Mistake and MistyTrail were dressed in animal skins, but even their clothes needed mending in more than one place. She chewed on her lower lips as the eyes of the soldiers bore into them.

“What is your purpose in coming here?” demanded one of the soldiers as soon as the group reached the bottom of the steps.

“This is not going to go well,” Caldal whispered to Eltor. “It will not be days of waiting. It will be weeks.”

“I am Mistake,” announced Mistake as she flashed a white pin before the soldiers’ eyes. “I have been commanded by Emperor Marak to bring these three before him immediately upon entering the city. Please send a runner immediately to inform the emperor of my arrival.”

The nearest soldier’s eyebrows rose in surprise at the bold response. He stepped to the door and cracked it open. He whispered to someone inside and then closed the door.

“Marshal Chack will be here in a moment,” the soldier declared. “Please stand off to one side while you wait.”

“I am sure his response will be swift,” retorted Mistake. “Anyone coming behind us can wait.”

The soldier shook his head and glared at Mistake. He was about to demand that she move to one side when the door opened. Marshal Chack walked out and stood on the top step. He stared at Mistake and the others around there. He smiled thinly and shook his head.

“Let them in,” stated the Imperial marshal. “I will take care of them.”

One of the soldiers opened the door and Marshal Chack led the small group into the palace. He halted in the massive entry foyer and stared at the group again.

“Do you know how to find the soldiers’ dining room?” he asked Mistake.

“I know where it is,” Mistake nodded.

Marshal Chack reached into a pouch and handed two small white pins to Mistake. “Put one of those on your sister and one on yourself,” he commanded. “Go to the dining room and wait there. I am not going to let these two men roam the halls in those uniforms. I will take them to change their clothes. They will meet you there.”

Mistake was suspicious about the arrangements, but her eyes gleamed with the thought of having two more Imperial pins. She reached out and grabbed the pins. Marshal Chack gently took Eltor and Caldal by the arms and led them away.

Marshal Chack led the two elves along a long corridor leading to the rear of the Imperial Palace. He guided through a door and into a large room filled with tubs for bathing. Tall shelves filled with uniforms lined two walls, and huge tanks of water occupied the third wall.

“You can wash up here,” Marshal Chack said as he closed the door. “I think we will find some clothes in here that will fit you.”

Eltor stared at the large selection of white uniforms. He turned and stared at the marshal.

“You intend for us to wear your uniforms?” the elf asked. “We are not joining your army.”

“I only offer clean clothes,” replied the marshal as he walked to a wide closet on the fourth wall. “No one has mentioned anything about accepting you into the armies of Khadora.”

The wide closet had several doors in it. The marshal opened one of the doors to the closet, and Eltor moved up behind him to watch. Several uniforms hung from hooks high in the closet. One of them had broad gold stripes around the edges. The elf stared at the uniform and then looked at the marshal.

“Why do you have gold on your uniform?” Eltor asked. “All of the other soldiers we saw inside the palace do not.”

“I am the Imperial Marshal,” answered Marshal Chack as he knelt and scanned the drawers that filled the lower half of the closet.

Some of the drawers had names written on them, but most did not. The marshal opened several of the drawers without names and tried to gauge the size of the tunics within.

“My gold stripes set me apart from the rest of the Imperial troops,” the marshal continued. “The Emperor is the only other person to wear gold on his uniform, and his gold is much wider than mine. I will find you something in gray so that you are not offended by wearing the Imperial color. Take off your rags and get washed up.”

Eltor turned and saw Caldal standing near the door with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. It was obvious to Eltor that Caldal did not want to be in the palace. He shook his head and walked to his friend.

“Washing will make you feel better,” Eltor said softly. “Besides, anything we get to wear will have to be better than these Motangan uniforms.”

“I want nothing from the humans,” Caldal said stubbornly. “Let us flee while we can.”

“Every door out of the palace is manned,” Eltor shook his head. “We will never make it out of here alive. Wash and change your clothes. I promise that we will flee when the time is right.”

Caldal stood defiantly for several moments before sighing and stripping off his uniform. He threw the clothes on the floor and began washing. Eltor grabbed several clean rags from a shelf and joined him. Moments later, Marshal Berman crossed the room and placed two sets of clothes on a small table near the elves.