Read part one here

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The nice soldier brought Cosimo to a stop beside a black horse, with a silky black mane and strong taut muscles wrapped in a shining black coat. The horse let out a huff of hello to the pair.

Cosimo smiled and said: “hello.”

The horse huffed again and turned his head away. Cosimo felt eyes on him and turned his head to the man beside him, who looked down on him with an expression Cosimo couldn’t quite decipher.

“What is your name?” The man asked softly.

Cosimo bristled at the question. “Does it matter if I am to die anyway?”

The man’s eyes turned sad again. “My name is Henrik,” said the kind man with a smile.

“Henrik,” Cosimo repeated, taking in the man’s appearance for the first time. He looked like a Henrik. He had sandy coloured hair trimmed neatly, shaved at the sides leaving a two-tiered effect to it. He was tan with kind blue eyes and rough stubble along his strong jaw.

Cosimo didn’t know why he said, “my name is Cosimo,” maybe just so someone would remember his name before he was executed.

Henrik slapped a hand onto Cosimo’s shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. “Nice to meet you, Cosimo. I’m sorry I can’t shake your hand. I’m afraid we don’t have steps so is it okay if I lift you onto Ebony here?”

Cosimo nodded. Henrik stepped behind Cosimo and placed two hands on Cosimo’s waist, hoisting him up as if he weighed nothing. Cosimo helped as much as he could with his arms trapped behind his back and it only took one try for him to swing a leg over the black horse’s wide back.

Cosimo bristled when the horse whinnied, falling back onto his hands, hissing at the iron biting into his skin, his chest rising and falling faster than autumn leaves in a strong gust of wind. Henrik laughed from below. Cosimo’s wide eyes went to Henrik’s blue ones.

Henrik had a hand on the horse’s thick neck, stroking it gently. “I think that means he likes you,” said Henrik kindly. Cosimo glanced back at the horse while Henrik climbed up. He put his hands around Cosimo’s waist and Cosimo flinched.

“Hey what’re—”

“Is this your first time on a horse?” Henrik asked from behind. Even without seeing his face Cosimo could hear the smile in his voice. Cosimo glanced down at Henrik’s hands to see them holding a piece of leather in a strong grip.

“No,” Cosimo said too quickly.

“Ah,” said Henrik, not at all believing the boy. “Well then you know that you have to squeeze your thighs to stay upright, don’t you? And don’t worry about falling because my arms are holding you in on the sides.”

Cosimo swallowed. “Yes, I know that. Thank you, Henrik.”

“No problem, Cosimo,” said Henrik and then clicked his tongue against his teeth. The beast started moving under him and Cosimo squeezed his thighs to the horse’s back in a panic. He leaned his weight forward slightly to properly balance, keeping his hands on the leather that acted as a seat for Cosimo and Henrik.

It took a while for them to get out of the forest. Every turn and step away from the boy Cosimo had harboured in the elfbow twisted another knot into his stomach and he worried he wouldn’t be able to find his way back if he escaped.

When…

When he escaped.

By the time they broke through the tree line the sun was almost at its highest point in the sky. The sky was stark in its difference to how it was yesterday when Cosimo was racing through the forest. It was a blanket of bright blue that had fluffy clouds sewn into the silk of the expanse.

“How far are we away from your kingdom?” Cosimo asked a little while after they had emerged from the forest.

“Technically, we are in the Kingdom now. That forest is a part of it.”

“Oh,” Cosimo hummed, chest deflating.

They lapsed into another silence, the only sound was the other soldiers chatting behind and in front of them, the muted sound of the horses on grass and the birds that could be heard in the breeze of the beautiful morning.

“I can give you a brief history of the place if you’d like,” Henrik said. The lie died on Cosimo’s tongue before he could voice it. It would be better if he knew what he was getting into before arriving at the palace with no idea of how anything is done.

Cosimo gave a sharp nod and Henrik began. “The kingdom is Oskana. One of the oldest kingdoms of men to date.”

Cosimo heard of Oskana before in court. He heard the elders talk of it with passionate hatred and low voices.

“It has a tumultuous past with your people,” Henrik said conversationally. Cosimo looked over his shoulder at Henrik, his eyes meeting blue ones.

“How do you know my people? How do you know what I am?”

Henrik didn’t answer. Instead, he flicked the tip of Cosimo’s ear. “Hey!” Cosimo yelped, but Henrik was laughing at his reaction, his eyes crinkled into half arches with mirth. Cosimo felt a blush climb his cheeks at the sound. Henrik’s laughter was hearty and rich, and it was a pleasant sound. Comforting.

When Henrik’s laughter died down, he turned his head and pointed at his own ear. It was rounded at the top, while Cosimo’s extended into a point. “Oh,” Cosimo said softly. He didn’t know that there was a difference in his ears to humans.

“You mustn’t have ever seen a human before,” said Henrik softly. A shadow crossed his face, curving the corner of his lips down as his eyes became a little glazed. “I’m sorry this is your first impression of us.”

Cosimo didn’t say anything in reply. He just turned back to face ahead again and said, “you were telling me the history.”

“Yes,” Henrik said. “I was. The noble family that is head of state are the Doukas. A very kind family, I grew up with the King.”

“You did?” Cosimo asked, his voice rising in pitch. He cleared his throat when Henrik chuckled. Honestly Cosimo was just surprised that Henrik could grow up with someone in royalty, if he grew up with the King then that must mean that the king would be in similar age to Henrik, somewhere in his late twenties.

“Yes, I did.”

“What is he like?”

“Magnificent,” said Henrik in earnest. “His name is Nikolas, the oldest of four. Though you’d swear he was born in the slums of the lower city with how he acts.”

Cosimo was kind of horrified at that. “He behaves like commoners?”

“Yes.”

“But he is the King?”

“Yes. It’s hard to explain, perhaps it’s different where you’re from. In Oskana, it is a breath of fresh air to not have a king with a poker up his ar—” Henrik cut himself off and said, “uh, well. Ahem. Rear end.”

Cosimo’s face morphed into one of horror, turning abruptly in his seat to face Henrik with wide eyes. “You impale your Royalty?!” He heard that humans were vicious, but to do that to their own kind. Never mind their royal families.

Henrik, to Cosimo’s terror, let out a hearty bellow of a laugh at Cosimo’s horror. “No. No, dear boy. It’s an expression.”

“Expression?” Cosimo repeated.

“Yes. An expression, like a figure of speech. Trying to paint a picture with words so you understand the essence of what I am trying to explain.”

“So, you don’t impale your royalty through their rear ends?”

“No,” Henrik laughed. “But can you imagine how uncomfortable that would be?”

Cosimo nodded, turning to face ahead again: he could certainly picture the pain and general discomfort that would cause. “Yes. It sounds horrible.”

“Right. So many kings and queens of other nations and kingdoms in the human world are horrible and have a metaphorical poker up their… rear end.”

“You humans speak strangely.”

“I suppose we do,” Henrik hummed. “Now where were we?”

“You were describing the king.”

“Right, yes. Niko.” Cosimo scrunched his nose at the informal way Henrik spoke of his King, it wasn’t normal. He should at least use a title or his full name. The way Henrik spoke of him made him sound like he was a brother more than a King, the general of his army. The strength behind Oskana’s supposed greatness that Henrik spoke of.

“He is strong,” said Henrik, pulling Cosimo from his thoughts. “Not just physically strong, but dependable strong. Very level-headed and wise. He treats people well and under his rule Oskana has never been more prosperous.”

The fondness flowing from Henrik’s description warmed something in Cosimo’s chest that was instantly crushed with guilt.

He had no right to bask in the bond of brothers when he had left his all alone with a fox no less! The elfbow would protect them, but the elfbow can’t calm a fever or calm the boy down if he were to wake frantic, searching for Cosimo who wouldn’t come.

Cosimo in his brash foolishness had doomed them both.

“Ah,” said Henrik. “Look there now, just ahead and to the left, we’re coming up to my favourite view of the city.”

Cosimo obeyed mutely, trepidation weighing heavy on his chest. He half expected to see dead people like him with pointed ears lining the road to the city. Silently worried that Henrik maybe wasn’t the man he sounded like, and he was just pacifying Cosimo the entire way to his blood-soaked death to make sure he wasn’t difficult the journey there.

Cosimo swallowed when they passed emerged from a small line of trees over a hill and Henrik pulled the reins to stop Ebony in his tracks.

Cosimo couldn’t stifle the gasp when he saw the city. It was busy, people bustling through the streets that spread out in a peculiar shape that reminded Cosimo more of a tree root than a city he was used to. Natural, winding and knotted in parts, but that wasn’t what caught his awe. It was the giant palace at the end of the streets that glistened in the sunlight like crystallised bone.

“Yeah,” said Henrik with a small sigh. “I get that feeling every-time I see it too.”

Cosimo couldn’t stifle the gasp when he saw the city. It was busy, people bustling through the streets that spread out in a peculiar shape that reminded Cosimo more of a tree root than a city he was used to. Natural, winding and knotted in parts, but that wasn’t what caught his awe. It was the giant palace at the end of the streets that glistened in the sunlight like crystallised bone.

“Yeah,” said Henrik with a small sigh. “I get that feeling every-time I see it too.”

There were no dead people with pointed ears either, which was a good thing for Cosimo. All the same Henrik draped a hood over Cosimo’s head. Cosimo went to turn but the action caught his wrists and instead he hissed at the burning of the metal on his flesh. Cosimo swallowed a cry, darting his gaze to the sky to stop a tear from escaping his eye.

Henrik steadied him, shushing him gently and said: “it’s just to hide your ears. People here don’t take too kindly to elves like you, Cosimo.”

“Why?” Cosimo asked through gritted teeth, the pain slowly diminishing as Henrik clicked his teeth with his tongue and Ebony took off again down to the city.

Henrik hummed in reply. “I was giving you a history of Oskana,” he began, words measured. “I need to tell you about why we greet your people with iron chains when we meet you.”

Cosimo swallowed a lump in his throat but didn’t speak as Henrik continued his tale.

“The people with a poker up their rear ends, the horrible people — well, Niko’s father was one of them. He was rude, mean, nasty to his people. He treated them like cannon fodder more than subjects.”

Cosimo didn’t really know what cannon fodder meant but he didn’t question it.

“Difficult man to get on with, to be honest. Hateful and paranoid. He saw enemies everywhere, even where there weren’t any. The woods we found you in — did you notice the traces of Elven society there?”

Cosimo said “yes.”

“Hmm. Well, there used to be a court of elves there. A very peaceful people, they never bothered anyone, but Niko’s father… he thought they were bad people. Plotting to overthrow him on his throne. He sent his men to slaughter them while they slept.”

Cosimo stiffened. The king’s men… he sent his men… like— like Henrik—

“Niko and I were only ten at the time, and when Niko heard of what his father did… it changed him. He vowed that day to be different from him, welcome everyone with open arms.”

“These infernal chains feel quite welcoming,” said Cosimo darkly.

“Of course, it didn’t go as smoothly as that. The elves retaliated in anger and grief. However, they didn’t attack anyone in the city. The nearest court banished all humans from its court.”

“As they should have,” Cosimo said with righteous conviction.

“And when the humans were setting up camp in the forest, the elves hunted them through the trees for sport.”

Cosimo’s chest deflated. “How… how do you know they did that?”

“Because they left one person alive, a child. The elves forced the girl to watch as her parents were murdered in front of her eyes and told her to relay a message to the King.”

Cosimo suddenly felt very cold at the story. Elves wouldn’t do that, they… they don’t kill people in their court. It is the greatest sin to upset a guest, let alone banish them from a court and hunt them.

Although, a quiet voice in the back of Cosimo’s mind spoke up, if they were expelled from the court’s jurisdiction then all rules were upheld if they were slaughtered away from court.

“What message?” Cosimo asked in a quiet voice.

“That if the humans wanted a war with the elves, they would have far more orphaned children than a single child. To stop the bloodshed, that the elves simply repaid blood for blood,” there was something sad in Henrik’s voice as he spoke. Something Cosimo couldn’t quite place. “Of course, the king didn’t accept it and an all-out war ensued.”

“Must have been a short war,” said Cosimo, more to himself than Henrik. Henrik let out a breath of air, one he held in his chest for a beat that Cosimo recognised contained far more pain than he could imagine.

“Yes,” Henrik replied, “but it felt like a lifetime.”

Cosimo didn’t want to ask how it ended, but he had to. He had to know why he was being taken away from the forest against his will, why he was being given a history lesson on horseback as they rode through the capital of a country that hated elves. Hated him.

“How did it end?”

Henrik hesitated. Cosimo heard the hitch in his voice, the pause spoke more than words he could speak. Cosimo regretted asking. He was being insensitive. Henrik was nothing but kind to him, and Cosimo was asking difficult questions like an insolent child.

“The war got bloody, and far too personal… far too quickly,” Henrik said, his voice taking on a more sombre note. “Niko’s father, the King, he found out that the pers— the elf who ordered the humans to be banished and hunted was the King of the Elven court. He knew that the King had a son, and so he sent an assassin into the court to murder the boy in his sleep.”

Cosimo frowned, there was something so familiar about the story, something on the tip of his tongue that he couldn’t quite articulate yet.

“When the Elven King found out he was furious. Rage overtook his grief, and he declared war on the Kingdom of Oskana. Niko’s father closed the gates to the capital, essentially cutting off trade and making his own siege… it was fine for a while, then people started starving, and hungry people get desperate…”

“A mother who couldn’t bear to watch her children starve anymore snuck out of the city and met with the Elven King in secret. She asked him what would make him cease this war he had declared. The Elf told the woman that once Niko’s father had felt the same grief that he did, then the elf would call off their people and leave their court. Disappear from Oskana altogether.”

“You mean… the elf asked the woman to kill the King’s son…”

“Not just his son, his eldest, the heir.”

Cosimo swallowed. “King Nikolas?”

“Yes,” said Henrik, his voice grave. “When the woman heard the price, she snuck back into the capital and cradled her children close and wept.”

“Because she had to murder someone?” Cosimo asked sadly.

“No,” said Henrik. “It was because she couldn’t murder Prince Niko, and she hugged her children because she understood the weight of her decision. That it may cause their deaths.”

Cosimo looked over his shoulder at Henrik. “Why?”

“Throughout his father’s tyranny he had been the one thing that kept the Kingdom together. He gave food to the hungry, medicine to the sick, he opened the palace doors to the homeless and cold and warmed them by a warm fire. The woman was determined to end the siege, and so, instead of killing Niko, she killed his father.”

“The king?” Cosimo asked, voice high in surprise.

“Yes,” said Henrik sadly.

They passed through the gates to the city of Oskana without any trouble and Cosimo got a look at the people and the city up close. People milled about their everyday routines, coming in and out of shops, some carrying baskets, children chasing cats and each other. Shortly after the gate to the city they came upon a market plaza, a fountain was the centrepiece in the middle made of beautiful sleek grey stone, the bottom of the pools was tiled with the same symbol that Cosimo noticed on the flag of Oskana.

“Niko and I were there.”

“You saw?” Cosimo asked. He heard Henrik swallow behind him.

“Yes. I saw. Niko’s father insisted that he attend court matters, and as his personal guard in training I was to attend as well. They were mostly boring, Niko took great interest in them, in the farmers blights and merchants fights. Then one day a woman came and said her children were dying and asked the king to end the war.”

“Niko’s father refused. The woman nodded. Then she said she would end it herself. That was the last thing she said before she ran at the king. Two arrows lodged into her arm and back before she reached the King, but she kept moving. I was right there… I could have… but before any of us could stop her she had planted an Elven knife deep into the King’s chest.”

“Another arrow hit the woman and Niko caught her before she fell, tears in his eyes, asking her why she did that. The woman said her name and the names of her children, where they lived and then she died in his arms.”

The pair of them let the weight of the words cover them in a blanket of silence. The city still bustling around them, Ebony’s hooves clipping off stone. They were getting into the upper residences of the city now. Less markets and live farm animals baying, more refined shops and elegantly dressed citizens.

“Did it end the war?” Cosimo asked.

“No. It didn’t. Word spread to the elves that the king was dead, and Niko was now the king. The Elven king was outraged, he wanted Niko’s father to feel his pain and now he was dead he wanted blood.”

“The elf didn’t stop?”

“No,” Henrik said through gritted teeth. “I guess foolishness is something both our species share.”

Cosimo’s lips turned down into a frown. “They kept trying to kill Niko?”

“Assassin after assassin. Niko wanted to speak with the elf, but his courtiers wouldn’t allow him, they said he would kill him.”

“But Niko is king, he should be allowed do what he wants.”

“He was young,” said Henrik by way of explanation. “The courtiers effectively still had to educate him in his duties as King, which included not walking into enemy lines.”

“So, the war?”

“Niko still faces threats to this day. We don’t know who could be an assassin in disguise. So, it’s safer to assume everyone is a threat.”

“Even me,” said Cosimo glumly.

“Yes,” Henrik replied evenly. “Even you.”

They rode in silence up to the giant palace gates where Henrik chatted idly with the guards standing there. Cosimo remained silent, his thoughts racing. He rubbed sweaty palms down on the leg of his trousers trying to distract himself from the fear that gripped him at seeing just how big the castle was. How far they had travelled on horseback away from where Cosimo left the boy and the fox.

He swallowed as the Henrik’s initial words came into his mind.

You can’t kill it. They must be brought to court before their execution.

His head was tilted the full way back as he stared at the tall palace gates, taller than some trees Cosimo had seen on the way here. This is the court that he would be tried in, and then… maybe his execution. Nobody would find the boy and the fox without him. The thoughts weighed heavy on him when Henrik clicked his tongue and Ebony began clopping his way into the palace grounds.

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Continued here