Free Crewel Lye by Piers Anthony Page B

force.
    Oleander led Pook and me along a winding path to a hidden glen. I was glad to go with them, for this was a signal honor, and elves were creatures of integrity; as their guest, I would be absolutely safe. But I remained mystified as to why they should extend this honor to a wandering barbarian. It could not be purely for delight in my company; barbarians do not make very good company. The journey took over an hour, for the little folk did not travel as fast as a man, though they stepped out sprightly enough. I did not mind, since I was riding and also recovering from my recent injuries. The nourishment from all those pies I had stuffed in my new face and gut was working its way though the rest of my body, and my thews were strengthening.
    The elven camp was around and in an elf elm, of course; everyone knows elves will reside nowhere else. When danger threatened, the women and children retreated to the heights, while the warriors ringed the base of the tree. At the moment, most of them were down, for they were setting up for their midday meal. The smells were good, but I was still digesting pies and wasn't really hungry. That was just as well, for their portions were small.
    We sat on the ground, and the elven maidens served leaves filled with stew. The leaves were cleverly worked into bowls, so that the stew did not leak. I accepted mine, curious what was in the stew but hesitant to ask. There seemed to be chunks of vegetables, nuts, fruits, and meats in it, and I suspected that the meat was from mice and grasshoppers. It tasted good, anyway, and was just enough to top off what I had eaten before.
    Then Oleander brought an elf maiden to meet me. “This is Bluebell, who wishes to ask a favor of you, Man,” he said somewhat brusquely and departed. I wondered at that anew; had I given some sort of offense? I had certainly tried to be a good guest, but one never can be certain with nonhuman cultures, though the elves were about as human as such cultures got. If it were not for the distinction of size, I would hardly know the difference.
    “A favor?” I asked. “I will be happy to help in any way I can, but I don't know much about elves--”
    Bluebell smiled. She was a lovely little creature, perfectly proportioned, like a doll in her green dress; “I will tell you about elves, Jordan-Man,” she said. “But first I must do you a favor, so it's even. What would you like?”
    “I am quite satisfied to accept the elven hospitality,” I replied cautiously. I glanced across to where Pook was grazing. Few animals got to touch grass as lush as that which the elves cultivated around their elms. “And so is my horse. That is favor enough.”
    “No, you will repay that by telling us your story tonight,” she said. “I mean, a favor from me personally.”
    What was she getting at? “Your charming company is enough,” I said. “Please tell me what you wish me to--”
    “Not yet,” she demurred. She jumped up to perch on my bent knee, dangling her pretty legs in the way girls had. “I must do you my favor first.”
    I shook my head. “As I said, I'm just a backwoods man, unfamiliar with elven ways. I don't want to give offense by making mistakes, and I have already antagonized Oleander in some way. So you will have to explain to me exactly what--”
    She emulated my motion, but the effect differed: when she shook her head, her lovely elf-gray hair tumbled about fetchingly. “Don't worry about him! He's just perturbed because he wanted Cowslip to get your favor, but I won the toss. Cowslip's his cousin, and she's all right if you like that type.” Bluebell indicated an elf maid nearby. I looked and saw a stunning example of the type; I did indeed like it.
    “I will do a favor for each of you, to keep the peace,” I said magnanimously. “But I need to know what--”
    She laughed merrily. “Only for me, Man; that's the rule. I've got the spell. I won it and I won't share it.”
    I was more perplexed than ever.