The Archer's Hollow

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Chapter One

THE VILLAIN

Nafaeri had to get the amulet-no matter the risk she took searching the elven king's castle today. In the coming battle, the magic talisman would be her strength, her power, her guide. Darkness would finally reign.

Each step up the thick planks of the northwest tower brought it closer. Giant cypress trees came into focus through one of the slits in the giant turret's wall. They swayed in the wind along the road from the outer keep disappearing as she continued upward.

Soon it would all be hers. An arid gust swirled through the narrow stairwell curving forever upward. The shifting air lifted strands of her flaxen hair, damp from her effort to climb quickly.

Narrowing her eyes, she let hatred fill her. She looked forward to ending the good king's too-long reign. Anyone who stood in her way would be eliminated. Then, the elven population would worship her. Whether from admiration or fear, it mattered not. A sneer twisted her lips. She definitely preferred the latter.

Afternoon heat pushed upward in its effort to escape the enclosure. Her heart pounded as much from exertion as from anxiety. Today's plan to ask the Oracle, seer of all, had to work. None of her disguises or informants had produced a hint of the powerful amulet's whereabouts. King Rannu had either hidden it well or enchanted it to prevent others from locating it.

She clenched her fists, running her tongue across her lips. Time grew more critical with each passing day. Finding the elusive talisman meant certain triumph-even over the most powerful elf, Rannu himself. Failure would definitely delay things. Day after day the restlessness grew, teasing her with its wispy images of revenge and power. The amulet felt so close. Somewhere, just out of reach, it beckoned.

Frustration throbbed around her temples. Continuing to climb she pinched the bridge of her nose. She could not give up now. She'd come too far today.

The top stair came into view and the low hum of men talking echoed off the walls. According to her lover-the captain of the guard-the king kept two high-ranking men on watch here. He also said the Oracle sat near the king's throne inside the council room that occupied more than half of the top level of the large tower.

Occasionally the king's council members met there for minor negotiations. The assembly had not gathered today, but the remote possibility that someone might be inside sent a surge of energy through Nafaeri. She anticipated the pain she could inflict-especially as she disposed of the worthless guards.

This morning she had chosen her vest with this exact scene in mind. The snug fit accentuated her full figure. With two steps to go she loosened the front laces more than enough to distract the men and adopted a confused expression. Crossing the last few planks she glanced around as if lost and approached the two sentinels.

"Oh ho! Look what we have here," said the more muscular of the pair. His confident perusal lingered at the opening in her shirt.

"Si. A lovely signorina wandering where she shouldn't be," said the other.

Suspicion flared in his eyes. He would have to be the first to go.

"Don't be an addle-brain," the muscular one said. "She clearly," his gaze wandered again down to her laced vest, "and might I say, luckily, wandered here by chance."