Erik rested his head on his hand while he studied how the spider in the roof worked on its net. It was fascinating how such a small animal could make something so intricate. An insect with shiny green wings and long delicate legs came dangerously close to the web. Unaware of the danger it took one step in the wrong direction and was trapped by the sticky web. The more it struggled to get free the more it got itself into trouble. Finally there were just some sporadic twitches in the wings.

Erik lost his interest for the drama above his head. The pillow and the mattress were soft, filled with the finest feather but the forced inactivity made his muscles restless. A small oil burner spread a pleasant scent in the room. He had no sense of time because there were no windows in his chamber and he had no idea for how long he’d been unconscious after the elves had caught him. When he thought about how he’d been captured he could still feel the sticky smell of the cloth that had been pressed against his nose.


This was a strange place. Erik could not really put his finger on why, but the castle gave the impression of being a place of show off while he could perceive decay beyond the façade. The long-eared lords and ladies had costly clothes made of fabric most humans could only dream about, but at a closer look he could see that many of them had been repaired so many times that they would not last much longer. The fat spider in the roof seemed, however, to live in abundance. Erik considered his situation. He was still alive and as far as he could tell the elves had for the moment no intention to kill him. The Dragon had even offered him armed elves to help him to take the crown. The problem was, however, that the offer was too generous. Erik had learned that nothing in life was for free and he didn’t have a good feeling about what the elves might want in return for helping him. “The Dragon”, by the way, what a stupid name. If the situation hadn’t been so grave he would have laughed when he’d heard the name of the Dark elf king.



When Erik was a child his mother told him to not go too far into the forest or the Dark elves might take him. His friends were told the same thing by their mothers. When he grew older he had dismissed this as something parents told their children so they wouldn’t get lost in the forest. But now he’d gone too far into the forest on his own and the long-ears had indeed taken him. He smiled when he thought about what his mother would make of this. Most likely the old lady would give him one long look and say “I told you so” whether or not she had believed that such a thing was really possible.



There was a sound at the door. Someone was turning a key in the lock. Quickly Erik pulled the black tunic over his head. Black, always black, no wonder the dark long-ears seemed so solemn when they had no colors that could cheer them up. He still felt naked though, without armor or weapon. But of course the long-ears had taken everything from him. They had even tried to take his beard away but he had drawn the limit there. The khol around his eyes could be washed away but it would take more time for the beard to grow back.


The door opened and the young women who had walked with him to the Dragon came in. She looked young anyway, but as far as Erik knew she could very well be his senior by hundreds of years. She was carrying a pile of clothes, a black tunic on top of his own clothes that the elves had taken from him. Erik didn’t know what to make of this. The dark lady was dressed as a warrior or a guard but did a maid’s work.



She put the pile down, pointed to the black tunic and said in his own language, but with a heavy accent “change.”

“What, do you want me to change tunic now?”

“No now, later,” the dark warrior maid answered. Maybe he was supposed to change before the next meeting with the Dragon? The warrior maid looked at him unabashedly like he had watched the spider in the roof.


Her eyes had a peculiar color and her unblinking gaze seemed even more intense with the khol painted around the eyes. The pale skin looked almost translucent in the light of the lanterns on the wall. Somehow the cold beauty of the lady warrior reminded Erik of Alde.


“What’s your name?” he said. Even a long eared kidnapper would be better company than the fat spider.

This simple question seemed to startle the dark lady. “Indindra,” she replied with a puzzled look.

Erik deliberately pronounced her name wrong, laughed as if he was embarrassed, and asked her to say her name again. He made her repeat the procedure three times before he finally pronounced her name right.


“Indindra, a pretty name for a pretty lady,” Erik put on one of his broadest smiles. A smile that often had worked wonders with human women. To his surprise and amusement the smile seemed to work on long-eared ladies to. Indindra looked down and Erik thought he could see a red flush on her high cheek bones. If there had been a flush it was, however, gone when she looked up again.

“You pretty too,” she said with her unblinking eyes resting steady on his. There was a smile on her lips, a smile that actually seemed to reach her khol-painted eyes.

Erik suppressed the impulse to laugh; he’d been called many things before, good and bad, but this was the first time anyone called him pretty.


Before he’d decided what to make of this unexpected turn of events, Indindra surprised him again. “May touch?” she said and reached out a slender hand. Before he had answered she was stroking his beard. Without thinking Erik lifted his hand and put it over hers. He’d half expected Indindra’s hand to be as cold as her beauty and was surprised to find it as warm as the skin of any human woman.


Indindra made a sudden movement and before Erik could blink he found himself with cold steel against his throat. The long-eared lady pressed a knife against him, just a few millimeters from his death. If she would press the knife just a little bit harder his life would flow out of him in a red stream that not even the elves would be able to stop. Even at this close distance Indindra’s skin was completely flawless. She smelled like roses mixed with leather.


“No try escape,” she said coldy.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Erik lied.

“Dream you can,” Indindra said and smiled grimly. “Plenty guards everywhere. You die if escape.”

“I thought I was your guest. Is this how Dark elves treat their guests?” Erik made an effort to smile and for once found it somewhat difficult to accomplish.

Indindra took the knife down so quickly that he concluded that she’d not exactly followed instructions when she threatened him.

She’d been right though. Of course the possibility to overpower Indindra, take her weapons and break free with her as a hostage had crossed his mind. But he’d dismissed the idea almost as soon as it came into his mind. Such a plan would probably have been hopeless anyway. He didn’t doubt that the cold dark elves would sacrifice Indindra without hesitation if that would be what it took to catch him again. It was also likely that they would rather kill him than let him escape. Erik didn’t want to die. As long as there was hope that he might live he would probably be better off playing the game as the Dark elves wanted instead of getting himself into more trouble by struggling to get free like the insect in his roof. If he couldn’t kill Dark elves he could just as well kill some time instead.


“How old are you Indindra?” he asked, partly to make her stay a moment longer and partly because he really was very curious about her age. He’d never seen an immortal before the long-ears attacked him. Too late he remembered himself. This was hardly a question he could have asked a human lady if he wanted to make a polite impression.

Indindra did indeed seem to find the question inappropriate. She looked uncomfortable. “Many years, me?” she asked and looked at him to see if she had got the question right.

Erik nodded and Indindra looked thoughtful for a while. Finally she showed him all her fingers nine times and then she showed him seven fingers.

“You’re 97 years!” Erik said impressed and Indindra nodded.

“Indindra young but already good warrior,” she said and sounded defiant.

“You’re indeed a very good warrior, “Erik said. You really took me by surprise with the knife.

Indindra looked down and blushed as she had done when he told her that she was pretty. “You good warrior also,” she said and looked at him. “Strong warrior.”


“You never told me what you think of my beard,” he said and looked challenging at her.

She raised her hand again and stroke his chin. “Don’t try to kill me again please,” he said and laughed.

“No try kill, only scare. No afraid anymore, knife sleeps now,” Indindra said and smiled.


“You should know this about me Indindra, I’m not easily scared,” he said and fired his broad smile as he placed his own calloused hand over Indindra’s pale slender hand. This time she did not draw her knife, instead she gave him a smile that made his heart beat faster.



After all, time would probably pass quickly until he would be summoned to the Dragon again Erik thought. Who was he to complain that the long-ears wanted to make him a king? Maybe his situation wasn’t so bad after all.