Free Eaglethorpe Buxton and the Elven Princess by Wesley Allison

wound in my back,
and my arms are aching from them being tied behind me. I think I
skinned my knee when I was trying to eat from a bowl like a dog,
but there’s no way to check. Oh yes, and they are going to kill me
in a few hours. Other than that, I’m fine.”
    “Come here, close to the bars.”
    I did as directed and she reached through
the bars and cut the bands that were holding my wrists together. My
muscles cried out as blood rushed back into them, and a shooting
pain went from my back straight into my heart.
    “I think I shall die before they have a
chance to kill me,” said I. “Serves them right.”
    “Don’t say that. I’m going to get you out of
here.”
    “How?”
    “I’ll be back after midnight. In the
meantime, try to get some rest.”
    “You have no idea, girl,” said I, as she
went off into the trees.
    Remarkably I did sleep this time. I must
have. I don’t remember falling asleep or even sitting down. But
when I was awakened by small pebbles hitting against my face, I
found myself sitting against the wall of the cave.
    “Ow! Stop it,” said I, as one of the small
pebbles hit me in the eye.
    “Quiet you,” said Jholiera. “I’m almost
ready to rescue you. Get over here and wait by the cell door. You
have to be ready at a moment’s notice.”
    “Why aren’t you rescuing me now?”
    “I don’t have the key yet.”
    “You don’t have the key?”
    “Calm down. I’ll be back in a few
minutes.”
    She did return, but it wasn’t in a few
minutes. It was quite a bit later. In fact, by the time she did
return, I was beginning to fear that the first rays of predawn
light might make escape impossible. But when she arrived, Jholiera
did have the key. She quickly opened the cell door, and taking me
by the hand, led me through a maze of trees. We hurried around
massive trunks and over fallen logs, through curtains of trailing
vines, until we came to another small glade. Here was my beautiful
steed, which is to say Hysteria.
    I can tell you I had a hard time saddling my
horse due to my injury. But with the elven princess’s help, the
deed was soon done. As I prepared to mount, Jholiera stopped
me.
    “Thank you Eaglethorpe,” she said, and gave
me a tender kiss on the cheek.
    “You are coming with me, aren’t you?” I
asked. “You can’t live with such a horrible father, or marry such a
horrible husband.”
    “Don’t worry. My father is not so bad. And
Iidreiion probably won’t want to marry me anyway after he finds out
what I had to do to get the key away from his cousin. Besides, I’ve
had enough adventuring for now. I just want to stay home and be
safe.”
    With that she gave me an even tenderer kiss
on the cheek. I climbed into my saddle and took off through the
woods, just as the early dawn was beginning to break. And I never
saw the little elven princess again.

Chapter Twenty: Epilog.

    Three years after the events in this tale, I
was sitting beside the fireplace in the Singing Siren Tavern in the
city of Antriador, having just finished telling the tale of
Eaglethorpe Buxton and the Elven Princess, when I heard a voice
calling out. “Gah! You are the worst story-teller ever!”
    It was Jholiera. She was no longer dressed
as an orphan boy. Nor was she clad in her leather elven-style
princess dress with a leaf motif carved into it, and lots of gold
jewelry. She was dressed as a traveling warrior, with armor
carefully tailored to her short and feminine form, and a sword on
her back that was nearly as large as she was. Her golden hair, now
almost reaching her waist, was styled into dozens of thin braids,
each adorned with beads of bone and ivory. She threw her arms
around me and pulled me close in a tight embrace, then released me
before continuing.
    “You are the worst story-teller ever. None
of that was right—the pies, the goblins, the elves. None of it
happened that way at all. Only that bit in the Inn with Ellwood
Cyrene was remotely true. And I most certainly did not kiss