by Greg Wilburn
of the hated Mentilm.
After finishing his story, Hanlem and Pralm looked at each other with concern. “We’d no idea the Mentilm had ventured so close to our king’s borders.” Hanlem said as he rubbed the coarse stubble covering his chin. “There’s no way we could’ve known the Mentil forces were near the Haveleim Lakes. Now we’ve found ourselves in serious danger.” Pralm stated coldly.
Hanlem said, “And not only that. Now we’ll have to deal with Daleli. You know that Juniel was the only thing keeping him in the company.” Pralm put his head in his hands. “Daleli is to become an issue for sure. The half-Mentil blood running through his veins has always given him quite the temper and made him a serious danger to us Limphelm. How can we deal with him now that the only thing quelling his rage is gone?”
Hanlem stood silent for a few moments, which made Rawren and Ghandel uncomfortable. “Leave me. I’ll summon you again when I’ve decided what to do.” he said with finality. Pralm, Ghandel, and Rawren left slowly and gathered together in Ghandel’s tent at the edge of the encampment. Hours later, near twilight, Hanlem summoned them back to his tent.
After the greetings were finished, Hanlem said “Let me get straight to the point, Limphelm. We are in a war against the Mentilm, and we can afford no enemies. Not even amongst our own ranks. You all know of Daleli and his half-Mentil blood. Not only that, but you also know of his hatred for both Limphelm and Mentilm alike. With this war going on, and not truly being able to discern if Daleli is friend or foe now, we must be rid of the threat he imposes to all of us.
Thus, Ghandel and Rawren, I leave it to you and four warriors of your choosing to hunt down Daleli on the scouting mission I’ll send him on and be rid of him. I’ll send him two days ahead of you so that he’s sure to be in the midst of Mentil territory near the Plains of Foradrim and the haunted forest named Skidlem. That way his death will be mistaken for a Mentil kill and not blamed on us. Such incidents are sure to be lost in the midst of this war. I’m sure you are well aware that this is a dangerous task because of Daleli’s warrior skills, despite his halfbreed birth. And he can never be told of Juniel’s death. The ensuing vengeance against the Limphelm would be too horrible to imagine. This is the plan I have set forth, and may Zarem smile upon us with his fortune.”
Ghandel and Rawren consented to the mission and took their leave. Pralm neared Hanlem as they left and asked, “Are you sure, Commander? Is this really right to do?” Hanlem looked into Pralm’s eyes with such force that Pralm took a step back under the weight of the stare. “In war, Pralm, it’s not about what’s right or wrong. It only comes down to what must be done to ensure survival.”
Ghandel and Rawren rested for the night and awoke early the next morning to decide which warriors they would choose for their hunting party. They left their tents in the early hours of the morning just before dawn and saw Daleli, the only known half-breed and the prey they would hunt, leaving the encampment.
Daleli was of average height and a slender male, but his skill as a warrior was to be feared by all. He walked with a self-reliant stride that conveyed strength over confidence. The grey hair on his head was short, and the noticeable color was an obvious sign of the polluted blood running through his veins. Some stubble covered his sharp chin, which gave him a look of wisdom. He had a thin face, and heavy bags sank under his harsh eyes because of the weight of sleeplessness that burdened him. Ever since he could remember, Daleli had to be on his guard to survive, especially in battle. And it didn’t help that he was given the most difficult missions under Hanlem’s command.
He wore a faded and torn guard uniform. It was the only one the outfitter was willing to give him when he deployed. The belts and holsters that carried his blades and equipment were aged and warped because of the endless battles and bad weather they’d seen. Within the tears and holes in the clothing, Ghandel and Rawren saw the defined muscles that laced Daleli’s frame. They were so clear that he looked to be chiseled straight from sacred Minsthrail, the most sought after material for smithing due to its ability to never dull or break.
Daleli had black eyes that housed fluorescent green pupils, just like every other Limphel. Still, his stare was so strong that the average male would crumble under its sheer weight. He was no good at archery, evidenced by him not carrying a bow that was standard for any Limphelm worth his salt. But he made up for that by being a master swordsman, hunter, talker, tradesman, and worker. He was good at anything he put his hand to, even cooking, which was female work, and was the object of jealousy for most males near him.
Although persecuted, Daleli tried to be as amiable as possible with everyone. It wasn’t that other Limphelm didn’t like him; it was the sole fact that he was a half-breed that allowed him to be treated with hate and ostracized all of his life. He lived a hellish existence after his Limphel father and Mentil mother were killed on their farm in the outskirts of the Jamlin region. After being found, he was sent to the orphanage in the main city of Illtan, near the Limphelm capital of Ystrenia.
The orphanage had kicked him out once he was a little over eight years old, and he suffered many hardships while living on the streets. He finally fled Ystrenia at the age of ten and found himself in Mintel territory, where a great swordsmaster, an exiled Limphel named Alelan, took him in and trained him. The training he underwent transformed him from an innocent child into a well-seasoned warrior who was made for nothing but killing.
Each day he would train from dawn till dusk, honing his skills for battle. When he was around thirteen, Alelan gave him real battle experience. Daleli hunted rare and dangerous game, he learned how to heal wounds and become a survival expert, and he spent much time killing anyone that crossed his path, Limphel and Mentil alike. Daleli was trained to kill all, hate all, and survive at all costs, but never to show the hate hidden within him. He had to hide his simple desire to hurt others and himself beneath a respectful guise.
When Daleli turned twenty, he was sent by Alelan to enlist in the army of his choosing, especially with the war brewing amidst the two kingdoms. Alelan was sick at that point, but wasmstill able to give Daleli guidance to survive in the world. Daleli chose to side with the Limphelm in honor of his father. He was a nobleman who gave up his rights as nobility to love a Mintel woman who had been exiled from her own people for helping a Limphel child whose parents were killed in a raid. Alelan died shortly after Daleli’s departure.
Daleli made sure the vigor of battle didn’t change him completely when he enlisted in the Limphelm’s armed guards. He still kept his amicable manner that allowed him to thrive socially. And the fact that he could handle himself in any and every situation, short of a shooting contest, led to more ostracizing by the male Limphelm. He was respected for his beyond first class skills, but still cast aside because of his half-breed blood.
The only person who’d shown any sort of kindness was Juniel. She noticed him after their first encounter in the 47th battalion. On their first day, under the command of Hanlem, the company degraded Daleli. Under the false pretense of having a display of skill, Hanlem had Daleli spar against various warriors in the company. Daleli displayed masterful swordsmanship that left the others in awe.
But his impressive skills led to disgust towards the half-breed very quickly. Soon, Hanlem had Daleli fighting six men at once, to which the jealous males were eager to comply. As Daleli fended them off, remaining unscathed, Hanlem sent more men into the fray. As the punishment neared closure, there were twenty males fighting with the skilled Daleli. But soon he was overwhelmed by the males, especially Ghandel and Rawren, who were the last to join the fight.
The display of skill turned into a severe beating for Daleli, who could do nothing but lie on the ground and do his best to defend against the countless punches, kicks, and rods that beat against his body, fracturing bones and causing him to nearly burst open and bleed out. Phrases like “Disgusting half-breed” and “Leave this place, you beast” flew out of the mouths of those there, adding another level of punish
ment to the physical abuse he suffered. After Hanlem commanded them to stop, the company left the staging area, leaving Daleli a bloody pulp that looked anything but alive.
Juniel was the last to leave, but not before placing a package of bandages and ointment at the side of Daleli’s head. Daleli was barely able to make out her silhouette as she backed off cautiously, feeling remorse for what had been done to him and anger at the horrid nature of what the 47th battalion had done to such a great warrior.
Although despised by the company, Daleli still kept up his good-natured behavior, doing his best to get along with the Limphelm in his company. Some were won over by the half-breed and cautiously treated him with respect and friendliness, but others became all the more cold and distant. Juniel was the only one who stayed by his side, placing herself in his stead at any opportunity.
Hanlem had no regards for females anyway, so he took no interest in Daleli and Juniel’s relationship. He let her go on every mission that Daleli was forced to carry out, which made her gain exemplary swordsmanship in a short amount of time. The other warriors in the company, both male and female, disapproved of the
