"Keet"

BY'fernand jiro

Keet (unfinished)
Keet saw the raven.
Stop
, she told Tardiff, while raising a hand to halt her companion as well.
Tardiff stamped his feet, radiating a tense, aggressive protection. She soothed him with another thought.
No danger here. Rest.
He relaxed slightly. The messenger’s gelding was a passive dullness behind her, totally reliant on Tardiff. He would be unless told otherwise.
She waited as the raven flapped lazily towards her. He always looked lazy, but if attack was imminent he would have been broadcasting before he even came into view. The emotions weren’t strong enough this time.
"Keet," said the messenger, "what is it?"
"Wait," she replied.
The raven floated to a nearby tree. He was thinking about danger, not urgent, but danger nonetheless. She tried to focus on his mind, to get a more coherent message.
Predators waiting, shiny.
That’s why she liked ravens, crows and magpies. Couldn’t get much more than predators, prey, or food out of any of the others, but these ones liked shiny things. Shiny things meant the potential for weapons, armour, or at the very least, people.
"Ambush," she said to the messenger.
"Where?" the messenger did not seem unduly alarmed. She had been hired to provide this kind of advance warning. He did eye her suspiciously though. She watched him, trying to hide her discomfort. Humans had strange customs and she didn’t want to embarrass him by stating what would have been obvious to one of her kind long ago.
She eyed the human for a moment. He was thick bodied like all his kind and must be very young by her standards, yet his face showed lines. He was not as graceless and clumsy as first appeared, nor as thickwitted. She found that out at the same time she found out he could fight.
"Some way ahead," she said. "Within ten minutes ride."
He continued looking at her with one eyebrow raised. She stared back, saying nothing. He would work it out eventually.
"I was hired to protect you from attack, not when under attack," she explained. Any ten humans could provide that kind of brute protection, and at a much cheaper rate.
"Well," he said cheerfully, "pointy ears must hear well. What do you recommend Keet?"
"You will wait in that grove there," Keet said, ensuring it was more than just a recommendation. "I will go on ahead."
They slid off their mounts and lead them across the ditch and up the bank beside the road, Tardiff scrambling much less than the gelding in spite of his vast bulk. The messenger also scrabbled a bit on the slope, knocking a rock down into the ditch, his armour jingling madly. Keet sighed. He may have been nimble for his size but he certainly wasn’t quiet.
Ward. Danger.
She said to Tardiff, trying to project an image of a large fierce Tardiff alongside a helpless brown figure. He grunted and moved slightly closer to the messenger.
"Be wary," was all she said in parting.
"You too," the messenger replied. She grabbed her bow from the saddle and slipped out between the trees.
She ran hard, concentrating on the forest, twisting and turning to avoid the branches and twigs, trying not to brush the leaves, yet still travelling faster than her human companion could. That was why she left him behind. He would make more noise at a walk than she would at a run.
She kept one eye on the raven and when he slowed and roosted, she stopped. Resting her back against the tree Keet slowed her breathing and began to concentrate on the forest around her.
Ever so slowly, so as not to be overwhelmed, she expanded her awareness embracing all she could. First she encompassed the higher animals, a squirrel was just there, a nest of small sparrows just there, others hovered at the edges of her perceptions. She then took in other creatures, the insects, the worms and the grubs. They all became part of her mind as she became part of them. Lastly she took in the trees. They had no awareness but their souls were the very essence of the forest, she could sense the youth in some and in others an age greater than her own.
Slowly she arose and began to glide effortlessly through the forest, disturbing nothing. If any but those of the strongest mind saw her now they would not notice. She was part of the forest and their eyes and ears would pass her by.
She soon came upon their camp. There were ten of them, alert but unaware. Only their horses were uncomfortable, sensing some spirit of the forest. She increased the strain on her resources, touching, soothing their minds with a gentle caress as she passed them by.
She made a slow circuit, staying away from the road where the forest that now protected her was broken. They were definitely waiting in ambush, and too well organised to be common bandits. Two archers were set on either side of the road with a guard set at the back of the camp to give warning in case of attack from the forest. The others lay in wait, weapons drawn. With no one else on the road there was little doubt who they could be waiting for.
The archers would have to go first, for when she attacked she would lose her contact with the forest. Once visible they would pose the greatest threat. Keet positioned herself where she could see them all, drew her bow and began firing. Three of the four archers were dead before the others began to react. She finished off the last one then turned and put two arrows in the guard behind her.
They were good soldiers for humans, obviously far more than common bandits for they responded extremely quickly. Three came straight at her and two tried to circle, they had shields ready so she dropped the bow and drew her dagger and sword.
She could tell by the way they moved that the man in black was the only real threat. He seemed to be in charge. Divide and attack the weaker. She feinted left, drawing the man towards her and then spun the other direction, ducking, diving, stabbing, killing the two to her right and leaving the man in black behind.
She was almost sad. These men were well-trained soldiers but she had been fighting five hundred summers before their grandparents had been born. She knew what they were going to do before they did.
Again she drew the man in black towards her and then darted way, leaving a dagger buried in one of his remaining companions and beheading the other. The man was very good though. Better than she thought. He had marked her as she flew by. But it was done now, he was alone. She stepped back and eyed him. She could tell he would not give in. She saluted him and then killed him, but not without sorrow.
Keet took a deep breath and then checked her leg, drawing her finger along the wound. It would be fine. As she retrieved her weapons the crow settled down on the body of the man in black. Normally she wasn’t squeamish. It was natural and, after all, that was why the beast followed her. But he had been a worthy opponent. She shooed bird to a different body and then went to check their horses.
That was when she saw it. There were eleven horses, and one was harnessed in elf fashion, Kestrel Clan by the markings. If the elf was not here then he or she must be seeking the messenger.
Keet launched herself aboard one of the horses and galvanised it into action with urgent messages of speed and fear. She raced down the road and the other horses panicked by the residuals of her sending followed eyes rolling, broadcasting their fear to her and momentarily overwhelming her. She reeled in the saddle before shutting them out.
There was no time for stealth. She only hoped that the stampeding of the horses would confuse her opponent. When close enough she opened her mind again, reaching for Tardiff. She couldn’t reach him though. His mind was overwhelmed with aggression and fury. Still alive at least.
Before rounding the last turn she leapt from the horse to the top of the bank and sent the herd one last barb of urgency to speed them on their way. The noise of their passage masked her approach and when within sight of the grove she stopped and listened. She could hear nothing and Tardiff was still a wall of fury. Her approach would be blind.
The oneness would not conceal her from another elf so she would have to rely on simple stealth to survive this encounter. As she inched closer she could hear rasping breath. It was when she finally craned her neck around a deadfall that she saw the body.
If the ungainly, motionless sprawl did not confirm death then the near arms length of blade jutting out the back of the facedown figure certainly did. But the body was slender, and dressed in black. It was not the bulky brown body she was expecting. And it was definitely the messenger’s sword embedded in the corpse.

Just beyond the body stood Tardiff, glaring at the dead figure, his nostrils flaring. Almost underneath the great horse was the messenger himself. He was sitting with his back to a tree and a long dagger buried to its hilt in his shoulder. The man was in obvious pain but the blow did not seem a mortal one.
"Be still," Keet said, stepping from cover.
"Moving isn’t really a priority," he gasped, and after pausing for a few breaths, "or an option really."
Keet settled down Tardiff and then checked the body. The dead elf was younger than she and was likely less experienced. A long life cut short. The loss of a single one, even from a rival clan, was a tragedy for all her people. Still, it was an amazing feat for the human to have defeated him and a frightening one too.
She returned to the messenger and knelt to examine his wound. He tensed up, his good hand still clutching a short knife. He was not as incapacitated as he pretended and she did not sense the same complete trust she had felt in the past, in spite of the clan bonding her to him. She would have to remedy that or her task would be doubly difficult.
She touched the handle of the dagger gently, feeling for any power other than that of mere steel. The messenger watched intently, not moving yet not relinquishing his grasp on his knife either. If he had truly lost his faith in her then he was displaying great courage, and forbearance. Keet realized then how much she admired this human. Astonishing, given how little time she had spent with him.
"I will treat this," she said, "and then you will tell me how you bested one of my race. I nearly failed in my bonded duty and I owe you my honor for that."
She paused again and took a breath. "First though you will tell me your name."
She watched as the messenger blinked in surprise. He then nodded solemnly for a moment, finally relaxing and loosening his grasp on his weapon. He obviously knew what this meant.
"Axel," he replied softly. And then as if to himself, "When an elf asks your name …"