41: A Funeral and a Fight

The Elves ran swiftly through the campus and into town, none of them speaking, all of them worried. Glorfindel led with Elrohir and Elladan automatically flanking him while Barahir and Cennanion brought up the rear. This early in the morning, with the sky just beginning to lighten with the coming dawn, the streets of Wiseman were mostly empty, but even before they reached the sheriff’s station, they could see the flashing lights of emergency vehicles and hear the sound of sirens in the distance. They quickened their pace, their expressions grim.

They turned the corner of Aurora onto Orion to find most of the street cordoned off with police, paramedics and firefighters scurrying about. One young police officer attempted to stop them, but one look at Glorfindel’s expression caused the Man to back away. Glorfindel didn’t even acknowledge him, concentrating on finding whoever might be in charge to get some answers. As he wove his way around emergency vehicles and personnel, he spied the very person he was looking for and made his way to him with the others trailing behind.

"David!"

Dave Michaelson, chief of police for Wiseman, whose family had been Glorfindel’s test family two years before when he’d been a student at Elf Academy, turned at the sound of his name and smiled grimly as Glorfindel approached. "Why am I not surprised to see you?" he said rhetorically.

Glorfindel ignored the question. "I tried to call the sheriff’s station a little while ago and there was no answer. What’s happened here?"

"I’m not even going to ask why you had the need to call the station in the middle of the night," Michaelson said, "but to answer your question, we’re still trying to figure it out. All I know for sure is that when the morning shift came on duty they discovered everyone in the station out cold. Tom Waterhouse," — naming the county medical examiner — "says they were all victims of some kind of incapacitating gas, maybe something similar to that Agent 15 the Iraqis used, or at least that’s what he says. Guess he would know, having been over there. Anyway, they’re being transported to St. Luke’s."

"Graff was bringing in two prisoners who broke into the Academy," Glorfindel said.

Michaelson raised an eyebrow. "I think you and I need to talk."

"Later, Dave," Glorfindel said, waving a hand in dismissal. "My concern right now is for Carl and the others, especially Robert Snyder and Burrill Ersck. I need to know what happened to them."

"Snyder and Ersck?! What the... no, I think we’ll take this somewhere else." He turned and shouted at someone. "Conrad, did anyone check the cells? There should be at least two prisoners."

"Station was empty of prisoners, Chief," Officer Conrad replied. "We did find two cell doors wide open. You thinking this was a prison break? We’ll put out an APB as soon as we learn the identity of the fugitives."

"Don’t bother," Glorfindel said before Michaelson could respond, "If what I think happened has happened, Ersck and Snyder are already dead."

"Okay, I want to know what the hell is going on," Michaelson demanded. "What were Burrill and Bobby doing at the Academy in the first place? Bobby we know is responsible for those break-ins over the summer though we could never prove it and his daddy’s lawyer was able to get him off on a technicality, but Burrill’s into armed robbery and we’ve been looking for him for some time now. So how does a two-penny thief end up teaming up with the likes of Burrill Ersck?"

"It’s a long story, Dave," Glorfindel said. "All I will tell you is that those two men broke into the Academy with the intention of kidnapping one of my students for blackmail purposes. Luckily, Dan and Roy were on duty and foiled the attempt. Darren called in Graff when we learned of it and Graff came out to pick them up. I was concerned that perhaps Ersck and Snyder might be in danger from whoever sent them to do the job, fearing that they would reveal the identity of the person who hired them, so I called the station and when I got no answer, came directly here."

Michaelson gave him a considering look. "You’re not telling me everything, but I’ve known you long enough to know that, short of beating it out of you, you won’t enlighten me any more than you have."

Glorfindel gave him a grim smile. "And you would be correct, my friend. Suffice it to say that there are things going on that don’t concern you and it’s better that you don’t know."

"The safety of Wiseman concerns me," Michaelson said, giving him a dark look, "and if you are holding back any information that compromises that, Elf-lord or no Elf-lord, I’ll haul you into jail on obstruction-of-justice charges so fast it’ll make your head spin. And that goes for any of your merry band. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes, we do," Glorfindel replied shortly.

"All right. Now unless you have any additional information to impart, I suggest you get yourselves out of here and let me do my job. I’ll have an APB put out for Snyder and Ersck in the meantime, but if what you say is true, it’s an exercise in futility. However, until their bodies show up, if they ever do, we’ll play it by the book."

"What about Carl? Do you know what his condition is?" Glorfindel asked.

"He’s fine and so are the others. Most of them were coming out of their state, very groggy and incoherent, when we got here. They’ve been taken to St. Luke’s for observation. I suspect they’ll be released sometime today if they haven’t suffered any complications from the gas."

"I’ll stop by the hospital later and check on them, then," Glorfindel said. He nodded to the other Elves and they started to move away.

"One thing," Michaelson called out and the Elves stopped and turned to face him. "Who were they trying to kidnap, do you know?"

"We found Jack Whitman lying unconscious in the hall outside his room when we apprehended the intruders," Elrohir answered before Glorfindel could respond.

"The Mayor’s son?" Michaelson asked in disbelief.

Elrohir merely shrugged in assent.

"Does Whitman know?"

Glorfindel shook his head. "No and I’ve convinced young Jack not to say anything to his father about it. He was not seriously injured. We’ll keep a close watch on him, make sure he doesn’t suffer any aftereffects, but we would like to keep this as quiet as possible for all our sakes."

"Fine. I’ll play along," Michaelson said with a scowl, clearly unhappy about it. "Now you’ve wasted enough of my time. Off with you." He waved at them, then turned to speak with one of his officers, effectively dismissing them. The Elves exchanged grimly amused smiles with one another as they walked away. When they reached the corner, they stopped by mutual consent.

"Well, we didn’t exactly lie, did we?" Barahir commented.

"No, we did not. That we haven’t told the entire truth...." Glorfindel shrugged. "I’m going back to the inn to get some sleep. We’ll plan to hold classes in spite of this as we can’t afford to waste anymore time."

"I’ll return to the Academy," Barahir said, "as I have to prepare for my class anyway. I’ll let Daeron know."

"We need to get those wires fixed," Cennanion commented.

"Daeron’s probably already contacted the utility company," Elladan said. "I’m sure they’ll be sending someone out as soon as they can."

Glorfindel nodded. "Call me if you need me, but I sincerely hope you don’t. Tell Daeron I’ll be in around three."

The other four ellyn nodded. Barahir and Cennanion headed back to the Academy while the Twins indicated they were returning to Edhellond. Glorfindel watched them for a moment before turning away, heading for the town center and the Goldmine Inn.

****

When the cafeteria staff began showing up, Daeron dismissed Alex and Derek from patrol duty, suggesting that they try to get a couple of hours of sleep before the cafeteria opened. Alex took the weapons he and Derek had been toting and returned them to their hiding place in his car before going to his room where he found Derek already in bed, though he was still dressed and was sleeping on top of the covers. Alex wasted no time in removing his shoes and doing the same, willing himself to sleep.

He woke about an hour and a half later, feeling unrefreshed but decided it wasn’t worth trying to get anymore sleep, so he got up and went to shave and take a shower. Coming back, he ran into Jack Whitman and his roommate George heading for the bathroom.

"How are you doing?" he asked Jack. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Still feeling a little woozy. Loren said to take it easy today. I’ll see how I feel after breakfast. I’d like to at least attend the morning classes but I think I’ll skip archery."

"That sounds like a good idea," Alex said.

"Do you know what that was all about?" George asked.

Alex shook his head. "Not a clue. I’ll see you guys later." With that, he returned to his room to dress, finding Derek just waking up. "I met Jack and George. I told them I didn’t know what last night was all about. I suggest you play dumb as well."

"No need to remind me. Mrs. Lowell’s little boy is a past champion in dumb-playing."

Alex grinned as he ran a brush through his hair. "I’ll see you at breakfast," he said, leaving Derek to fend for himself.

****

When Alex arrived at the cafeteria, he found a sign posted on the lounge door informing everyone that the weight of the ice had broken some of the wires and that was why they were running electricity on the generators. The sign went on to explain that a utility crew would be coming out sometime during the day to repair the wires and asked for everyone’s patience and understanding. Alex smiled faintly at the plausibility of the statement, giving the Elves points for quick thinking.

Derek joined him at the table about ten minutes later, giving him a significant look. "So that’s why we’re back on generator power, huh?" he said for the benefit of the others at the table. "Sure hope they can fix it soon."

"I’m sure they’re working as quickly as they can," Alex said and then someone asked them if they knew anything about the ruckus during the night and both men shook their heads and the matter was dropped.

When Alex and Derek entered Gilvegil’s Sindarin class, they stopped at his desk to ask if he knew anything.

"From what Barry and Conan told me," the Elf said quietly, "someone gassed the sheriff’s station, knocking everyone out cold, and then removed the two men who were here earlier."

Alex grimaced. "Farrell’s covering his tracks."

"Is that something you people do all the time?" Derek asked.

Alex shook his head. "No. Farrell is working outside accepted parameters, attacking a sheriff’s station like that. One of the primary rules of the Game is that you don’t involve civilians if you can possibly help it and you especially don’t let the local authorities know what you’re about." He gave them a wry look. "They have a nasty habit of sticking their noses in where it doesn’t belong and then someone higher up has to lay down the law to them and that just gets their backs up even more. We try not to do anything to antagonize the local authorities. Makes for bad PR."

Derek snorted at that and Gilvegil smiled. "Why don’t you take your seats and we can begin?"

The two men nodded and a few minutes later the class started and for a time the only thing on their minds was conjugating intransitive verbs.

****

As promised, a utility crew was out to the Academy by ten and when Alex and Derek returned from their archery class they found that full power had been restored. Morale at dinner was high among the students, many of them exclaiming over the flood of emails they had received from their families wondering how they had survived the storm. Alex grinned at some of the exasperated looks on people’s faces.

"Lordy, you’d think I’d been lost in the Antarctic or something the way my mom carried on," Lucy Barton was heard to say. "It was just a storm. It’s not like we don’t have them in Wisconsin, for Pete’s sake."

"We get our share in New Hampshire," Alex commented. "I grew up in a small town outside Portsmouth. I remember that Perfect Storm we had in '91. One of the hotels that line the coast going up to Maine was just swept away. Luckily, they’d evacuated everyone from it beforehand."

There were nods all around and then others began sharing some of their ‘storm’ stories as they lingered over coffee and dessert, enjoying each other’s company. Later, Alex and Derek hunted up Daeron, who was in his office with Vorondur, Amroth and Glorfindel, the four of them coordinating the night patrol, for Glorfindel had decided to have the Elves continue keeping watch through the night.

"Farrell is still out there and so are those other agents," he said to the two Mortals. "I don’t trust him not to try something stupid again."

"I agree," Alex said, "but I think he will not bother us for a while. I sent an email to Maddy telling her what went down without mentioning names. I told her that Farrell hired two criminals to kidnap one of the students with the intention of forcing my hand, thereby endangering the mission and my cover. I told her to either recall Farrell or I would take him out myself. We’ll have to see what she does. This whole thing is going south fast and I don’t like it."

"We’ll continue patrolling for the rest of the week just to be sure," Glorfindel said. "Derek, perhaps this weekend, you and Alex can come out to Edhellond and we will explain everything to you then."

"I guess I can keep my raging curiosity in check until then," Derek said and the Elves chuckled as the two Men said goodnight and left.

****

All the Elves attended Richard Martina’s wake on Tuesday, meeting with his son and daughter and their families, expressing their condolences. Only Glorfindel and Daeron, representing the Academy, attended the funeral mass Wednesday morning at St. Mary of the Snows Church. Some of the people there, recognizing them, looked upon them with a mixture of surprise and suspicion, knowing that the Elves did not adhere to their beliefs. Neither Glorfindel nor Daeron paid any attention to them but when the mass ended, a small group stopped them just as they were leaving the sanctuary. Glorfindel recognized one or two as members of other denominations where their pastors preached against the ‘godless Elves’.

"You have a lot of nerve stepping into a house of worship," one Man snarled. "Have you no respect?"

"Richard Martina was a friend of ours," Glorfindel said softly, reining in his temper. "We came to say good-bye."

"You’re not even a Christian," the Man retorted.

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow. "And neither is Rabbi Cohen, who I see has also attended. Walking into a church doesn’t make you a Christian any more than walking into a garage makes you a car." The expressions of shock on the Mortals’ faces was almost amusing. "Child, I watched them build Notre Dame in Paris and attended the dedication mass. I remember the early Christian missionaries spreading their news about the Christ from one end of the Roman Empire to the other. I’ve been in and out of a variety of houses of worship over the millennia and so far lightning hasn’t struck me dead yet."

"And don’t forget the time we attended that pope’s crowning at the Vatican," Daeron said with a bland expression. "What was his name, that despicable Borgia and his disgusting children?"

Glorfindel cast him an amused smile, then returned his attention to the gaping Mortals. "And now, if you will excuse us, we have to return to work, as I’m sure some of you have to as well."

He pushed past them, secretly pleased at the nonplused expressions on their faces, wishing he could skewer them all with a sword for their narrow-minded and hateful attitudes towards anything that threatened their petty views of the universe. Daeron gave him a knowing look. "They are not important," he said. "Forget about them. The majority of the people here accept us and welcome us. You can’t expect all Mortals to do so. It’s not realistic."

"I know, but sometimes.... Well, you’re right. They are not worthy of my attention. I guess I’m still feeling out of it, as the Mortals like to say."

"And I understand, more than you can appreciate," Daeron said, then gave him a shrewd look. "When was the last time you beat someone up?"

"What?" Glorfindel responded with a laugh, stopping in surprise at the top of the steps leading out onto the parking lot. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean, when was the last time you indulged yourself in a good sword fight? You always feel better after you’ve beaten someone to a pulp."

Glorfindel scowled at him. "I do not."

"Oh, yes you do," Daeron retorted with a laugh. "So, my suggestion is that we go get your sword and those of the Twins and bring them to the gym and let you three have it out. Maybe the others will want to join in on the fun. We can bring their swords as well. I’m sure they would all like the workout and you can entertain the students at the same time."

"What do you mean? Classes were cancelled today. There are no phys. ed. classes going on."

"A number of the students asked if those classes could be held. Many of them are still feeling antsy from the enforced inactivity during the storm and expressed a need to be doing something active, so I agreed to let those classes run."

"Fine. Let’s go," Glorfindel said, ignoring Daeron’s look of satisfaction as they headed for the car.

****

Alex was in the middle of a fencing match between himself and Jack Whitman while the rest of the class looked on when they were interrupted by Daeron coming into the gym.

"Please put away your equipment and then we’re going to open this gym to the other one. There will be an exhibition of sword fighting put on by some of your teachers and administrators."

There was a general sense of excitement as the students complied with Daeron’s directive while he and Phil Gordon set about retracting the inner wall so that the two gyms became one. Alex was surprised to see Glorfindel and the Twins, along with Vorondur, Barahir and Gilvegil standing in the middle of the floor with actual swords in their hands while the mats that had been used for the self-defense classes were being removed by Cennanion, Amroth, Serindë and Alphwen. Even without a close-up look at the swords he could tell that they were both very beautiful and deadly. These were definitely not just for show. Some of the fold-away bleachers had been pulled out and he joined the other students, finding a spot next to Derek and their friends. For safety’s sake, no one was allowed to sit in the first three rows. When everyone was settled, Glorfindel addressed them all.

"What we are about to show you is not choreographed. We will be sparring with live steel, as you can see, so please, do not try this at home." He gave them a wry smile.

There was a wave of laughter at that and then Glorfindel continued. "Ryan and Conan will act as referees." With that, he and the other five fighters donned knit caps and Alex knew that was to make sure their hair stayed in place and their pointed ears were not revealed. He suddenly realized that Amroth had done something similar whenever he had sparred during Alex’s training. It was an interesting revelation and he wondered what else Amroth had done to disguise the fact that he wasn’t human.

"Damn! I think it’s going to be five-on-one," Derek muttered in shock and Alex saw that his roommate was correct. Glorfindel stood in the middle of a circle made by the other five. Amroth and Cennanion were standing well away from them, yet close enough to act as referees. No one spoke. None of the fighters bowed or otherwise saluted each other. Glorfindel didn’t even move, but remained perfectly still, his sword pointing down in what appeared to be a relaxed pose, while the other five slowly circled him. Then, it seemed as if all five started to attack as one and there was a collective gasp from the spectators. Alex watched in disbelief as Glorfindel brought his sword up in a single sweep that blocked the attack from Elrohir and Barahir and then managed to avoid the sweep of Vorondur’s sword while parrying Elladan’s thrust from behind and then drive Gilvegil back, all in a single fluid movement.

And after that, the show truly began.

Alex could never afterwards say how long the fighting lasted. He watched, mesmerized, as Glorfindel managed, somehow, to avoid all the attackers, to parry and thrust, leaping up and spinning about, but what struck him the most was the absolute blankness of the Elf’s expression. There was no anger or gladness. He was entirely focused on the fighting and it was obvious that nothing else mattered. The others were equally as deadly in their maneuvering but Alex could tell that as good as they all were, Glorfindel was a shade better, his movements that much more economical and spare, wasting no energy or effort.

It was not choreographed, but it was precise and Alex sat in awe at the display.

At one point, Glorfindel managed to get inside Elladan’s guard enough to nick him in the right shoulder. Blood spurted, causing some of the spectators to yell in shock, but none of the Elves stopped. Elladan continued fighting, casually shifting his sword to his other hand as he maneuvered out of Glorfindel’s reach. Glorfindel, Alex noticed, was smiling, showing the first hint of emotion since beginning the fighting, and there was a deadliness to that smile that sent shivers down Alex’s spine. A moment later, Gilvegil became the first real victim as Glorfindel casually parried a stroke from Vorondur while kicking out at Gilvegil, sending him reeling into Amroth’s arms. All the students gasped as one.

However, Gilvegil did not re-enter the fight, for, after taking a moment to catch his breath, he moved away from the other fighters to where Daeron stood with the two ellith and sheathed his sword in the scabbard that the loremaster handed him. From where he was sitting, Alex could not tell if the Elf was angry or upset, for he stood there quietly talking with Daeron, and Alex had the impression that they were commenting on the other fighters.

In the meantime, Elrohir and Elladan were now fighting almost in tandem, switching their positions back and forth in an attempt to keep Glorfindel occupied while Vorondur and Barahir tried to get to him from behind, but Glorfindel evened the odds a bit more when he managed to duck at the very last second so that the swords of the other four clashed against each other. Even as they strove to regain their balance, Glorfindel lunged at Elrohir, knocking him to the ground, thereby opening up a space that allowed him to break out of the circle. The other three Elves ignored Elrohir who remained on the floor until everyone had moved away from his position. Cennanion came over and gave the Elf a hand up, smiling at him. Alex saw Elrohir say something and the two laughed as Elrohir joined Gilvegil and Daeron on the sideline, putting an arm around Serindë. She said something to him and Alex guessed from the worried look on her face that she was concerned that he’d been injured, but Elrohir shook his head, giving her a kiss. She smiled at him and kissed him back and Alex turned his attention back to the fight.

Until then, the fighting had remained more or less stationary within the center of the floor, but once Glorfindel broke free of the circle, it became a real free-for-all with Glorfindel leading the others on a merry chase around the gym, so that now they were fighting more one-on-one, with the other three taking turns attacking Glorfindel. The swords flashed fast and furious and yet it was nothing like what you would see in the movies and it certainly was nothing like fencing. Alex wondered just how long they could keep up the pace, for it had to be tiring even for them, yet the minutes went by and if any of the Elves were slowing down he could not tell.

Barahir became the next person to be out of the fight when Glorfindel managed to slip under the other Elf’s guard to slash him in the thigh. There were gasps and moans of dismay from most of the Mortals at the sight of the blood puddling on the floor. Alex felt his heart leap to his throat and Derek was heard to be quietly swearing, yet none of the Elves, not even Barahir, appeared overly concerned. The injured Elf limped away from the fight. Serindë and Alphwen ran to him and helped him to the bleachers while Elrohir grabbed the first aid kit and began administering to him. From where Alex was sitting it appeared that the cut was not deep and had not severed any arteries. He glanced at Derek, giving him a grim look.

"They play for keeps, don’t they?" he said and Derek nodded but said nothing.

Now with it two against one, the pace of the fighting actually seemed to quicken and it was almost impossible to keep track of the swords but it all came to an end after another ten minutes or so when Glorfindel managed to knock Elladan’s sword out of his hand and then landed a flurry of strokes on Vorondur, forcing the ellon to retreat until he was against the wall. As soon as Vorondur’s back touched the wall, Glorfindel stepped back and lowered his sword and Vorondur did the same. For a moment they just stood there facing each other, both of them breathing heavily, and then Glorfindel stepped forward and gave the other Elf a hug which Vorondur returned. At that, the spectators began cheering and clapping, moving down to the floor to surround the fighters, offering comments and asking questions, several of the men asking shyly if they could see the Elves’ swords. Alex noticed Alphwen fussing over Elladan, insisting that she clean the cut on his shoulder. To Alex’s amusement, Elladan rolled his eyes but let the ellith have her way.

Glorfindel and Vorondur made their way back to where everyone was congregated. Alex, who was standing on the perimeter of the group surrounding the other fighters, not even attempting to get near them, watched as Daeron approached the two ellyn, handing them their scabbards.

"Feeling better?" he overheard Daeron ask Glorfindel.

Glorfindel nodded as he sheathed his sword. "Yes, much. Thank you."

****

Note: The incapacitating gas (also called knockout gas) known as Agent 15 actually exists and was used by the Iraqis. It is considered to be similar to the incapacitating gas designated BZ by NATO.