War Of The Wildlands

by Lana Axe

  Defeated, Aelryk bowed before the king. “Your Majesty,” he said.

  Outside the council chamber, Mi’tal patiently awaited the prince. As the door opened, he smiled at him curiously, examining the expression on his face. It did not appear that the conversation had gone well.

  “Did you speak with him about the taxes?” Mi’tal asked, breaking the silence.

  “I didn’t have a chance,” the prince began. “I started out asking about negotiations with the elves.”

  “That was bold,” Mi’tal commented. “How did he take it?”

  Aelryk stared at his friend and remained silent.

  “That bad, huh?” Mi’tal said, shaking his head. “Well, at least you tried.”

  “He also informed me that I’m to be married to a princess from Ra’jhou.”

  “Congratulations, my lord,” Mi’tal replied. “I’m sure she’s quite lovely.”

  The two began to walk down the long corridor to the palace entryway. Exiting out into the town, Aelryk said, “This just isn’t the time for weddings or celebrations. If only the king would listen to someone other than himself.”

  “If I may be so bold, Your Highness,” Mi’tal began, “you could send emissaries to speak with the elves without your father’s knowledge.”

  Aelryk stopped walking and asked, “How do you mean?”

  “You don’t need to send an army,” he said. “Your father won’t take any notice of two or three missing people.”

  “Secret talks,” the prince remarked. “Do you think the elves would allow the emissaries to live long enough to talk? They have no reason to trust us.”

  “All you can do is send someone under a banner of truce and hope for the best.”

  “Are you willing to go yourself?” the prince asked.

  “If you command it of me, my lord,” Mi’tal replied firmly.

  “You are indeed brave, my friend.”

  The pair continued walking down the dirt path until they reached the armory. “Is there any chance of knowing which clan might be most likely to talk?” Mi’tal asked.

  “So far the Sycamore Clan is the only one that still has a village. Either they will hate us slightly less than the others, or they will have taken in all the displaced elves, which means they will truly despise us.” The prince thought for a second. “There are probably hundreds of elves that have taken to the trees. Na’zorans journeying through the Wildlands are not likely to be spared.” He shook his head and added, “I don’t know what to do.”

  “We could release the elves that are being held,” Mi’tal suggested. “That would be a sign of good faith. Perhaps one of them would convey the message.”

  “My father has been using them for slave labor at the docks. He’s going to notice if they disappear.”

  “Tell him you’ve enlisted their help in the army. They could polish armor and sharpen swords, as far as he need know.”

  “My father would be happier if they were being used as practice dummies,” the prince commented.

  Mi’tal raised an eyebrow, approving of the idea. “He’ll think you’re following in his footsteps. Just imagine his pride.” Both men began to laugh. “No one at the docks will question you for taking the elves away. It may be some time before your father is made aware of it.”

  “You’re right, my friend,” the prince said, laying a hand on Mi’tal’s shoulder. His mind was made up. Without informing his father, he would attempt to make peace with the elves on his own. Perhaps the idea was folly, but he had to try. Otherwise, the fighting would continue until the elves were wiped out, and there would be no one left to protect the forests from his father’s desire to expand the kingdom. Villages and farms would dominate the land, and the ancient forests would be no more.

  Chapter 13

  Frost filled the forest air as autumn began to give way to winter. Most of the trees were stripped bare, their slender branches naked and exposed before the world. Birds became scarce, most of them preferring the warmer climates to the south. The brave few who stayed blasted their calls to the sky, defying the winter itself.

  Reylin and his archers gathered near a campfire to discuss their next attack. Reylana had joined them, as she was still unable to fight alongside the other women. Her shoulder had grown stiff, but the pain was duller than before. Still unable to wield a sword, she was preparing to leave and visit other clans in the area.

  “Reylana will be heading to the Sycamore Clan soon,” Reylin began. “They are the only clan we are aware of that still has a living rune carver. A pretty girl should do a good job of convincing him to help. Hopefully his clansmen will be willing to join the fight as well. They haven’t been attacked yet, but their day is coming.”

  “What of the Mountain Clan and the Mulberry Clan?” a young, dark-haired elf asked. “Has there been any word of them?”

  “None of us have traveled that far north,” Reylin replied. “Someone will need to visit each of them and try to convince them to fight as well. I don’t know whether they’ve been attacked or if any of them are still alive.”

  “Do you think the clans across the river would join us?” a second archer asked. He was older and had traveled farther than any elf of the Oak Leaf Clan. “The Na’zorans haven’t made it that far, but once they wipe us out on this side, I’m sure they won’t let a river stop them.”

  “You could certainly cross the river and find out,” Reylin said. “You’ve been to some of their villages before. Maybe they haven’t moved.”

  “Send my father,” the elf replied. “I can still fight. He is too old, but he remembers where the clans are located.”

  Reylin nodded in agreement.

  “So now you’re sending more of us away,” Reylana commented. “Who will be left to defend our people?”

  “I will,” Reylin said. “The majority of our archers will still be here along with all of the sword maidens. We can create a distraction while you and the others gather our army.”

  Reylana nodded. She hated the idea of her clan going into battle without her. Her arm, however, was not going to allow her to fight efficiently. The best she could do for her people was secure the aid of the Sycamore Clan and its rune carver. With runed weapons, they would possess superior arms to those of the Na’zorans.

  “I feel very strongly that our clan should move away from this area,” Reylin began. “The humans will be expecting us to stay around our ruined village, and that will only make us easier targets. I suggest that the elderly, the children, and the nursemaids move across the river with the clans who have yet to be attacked. They will welcome them, I’m sure, and they will be safe there. Those of us who can still fight should move north and stay near Na’zora’s border. We can attack the villages there, and I don’t think they will see it coming. I have no doubt that they will increase their presence to the settlements near here, which gives us another reason to move north.”

  “I agree,” Essa said, approaching the campfire. She was still unhappy with Reylin, but the good of her clan was her first priority. He was ruthless, but he had a talent for planning battles. “We need to get going soon. The rains are coming.”

  A gentle thunder rolled high in the clouds as if summoned by Essa’s words. The late fall rains would make life without huts difficult. The trees had already dropped the majority of their leaves and would not provide the best cover from the rain.

  “Nearly all of our animal skins were destroyed in the fires. We have nothing to stretch over the limbs for roofing,” Essa said.

  “We can’t exactly tan hides while we’re traveling and fighting,” Reylin replied. “The clansmen we’re sending away will be fine. Those of us who are fighting won’t be staying in one place long enough to care. We’ll just have to make do.”

  For some time the clansmen talked quietly among themselves. Finally, they decided who would be traveling to the Mountain and Mulberry Clans. Two older clansmen had been chosen and would have to be informed.

  Reylana was regretting h
er injury more and more. She disliked that her brother was moving the clan farther away, and that she could not join in the fighting. Their clan Overseer had been killed when their village was destroyed, and Reylin had stepped up quickly to take over command. He had no desire to take the title, and he was too young for anyone to consider giving it to him. However, they did need a leader during the war, and there were few who could lead a battle better than him. Reylana sighed to herself, wishing she was fit enough to travel alongside him.

  She gathered up the nuts and dried fruit she had prepared for her journey and placed them inside a small pouch that hung from her belt. Placing her sword on her back was difficult without the use of her left arm. The sling still prohibited her movement, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to swing the sword if she needed it. With only one hand, she couldn’t hope to do more than clumsily bash someone with it. Still, it was better than no defense at all. It was unlikely she would encounter a problem in the forests, but she wouldn’t leave her sword behind. Eventually her arm would heal, and she would be able to rejoin the fighting.

  Once she was ready to set out, she went looking for Reylin. He was perched on a limb, busily crafting arrows for the fighting ahead.

  “I’m all set to leave,” she called up to him. Her tree-climbing skills were quite awkward without the use of both arms, so she chose to remain on the ground.

  Reylin hopped down from the branch and wrapped his arms around his sister. “Be well, Sis,” he said. “Remember how much we need the Sycamore Clan’s help. You have a very important task ahead of you.”

  “I doubt they’ll say no,” she said with certainty.

  “I can’t imagine they would,” he replied. “But if they’ve been attacked, they may not be so easy to find. I have no idea how many of them may be left. If their rune carver is dead, it’s up to you to find someone else.”

  “I’ll do whatever I can,” she said. “I hope to see you again soon.”

  Glancing back over her shoulder at what had once been her village, Reylana’s eyes filled with tears. This had always been her home, and she wondered if it ever would be again. Her life was changing too quickly, and she yearned for the carefree days of her childhood. She missed her parents and their wisdom. Things had always seemed simpler when they were around.

  A gentle mist began to fall over the forest, and streaks of pale lightning illuminated the sky. The thunder drummed lazily through the clouds as if it had no desire to be noticed. Reylin climbed back into the trees and watched as his sister moved deeper into the dense forest, disappearing within its protective cover. In her hands rested the hope of their clan and all their kinsmen. Their only chance to survive this war depended on the weapons she would secure for them.

  Chapter 14

  A chill lingered on the air as Yori arrived within sight of Enald. He stood at the edge of the village and sighed quietly to himself. He was not looking forward to telling Meladee that he would be leaving for good. Those soulful eyes of hers would no doubt leave him feeling entirely guilty. She would not understand that he had no choice in the matter. All she would know was that her dearest friend was abandoning her for good.

  Mustering his courage, he continued into the village and through the streets until he came at last to Ren’s smithy. Stepping inside, he heard his uncle say, “Welcome back. You were gone a bit longer than I expected.”

  Meladee rushed at him, throwing her arms around his waist. “Where were you?” she asked accusingly.

  Yori knelt to her level and took her little hands in his. “I’m sorry I didn’t come back right away,” he said.

  “You must have met a girl,” Ren said, grinning.

  “Sort of,” Yori replied, his gaze falling to the floor.

  Ren noticed the change in Yori’s expression and asked, “Did something happen?”

  Yori was silent for a moment but finally answered, “Yes, something did.” He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly before continuing. “I did meet a girl, but when she found out I was an elf, she had me thrown in the dungeons. The prince himself released me on the condition I find my father’s clan and learn to etch runes. He wants me to work for him.”

  Ren stood in stunned silence. This news was a bit much to swallow all at once. Not only would he be losing his apprentice, but the young man was setting out on a quest to fulfill the wishes of a prince. It sounded far-fetched and highly improbable. Why would the prince take an interest in a half-breed peasant?

  “The prince, you say,” Ren began. “He is personally sending you on a mission?”

  “Yes,” Yori replied. “The sword you sent me to deliver was for him. It was a gift. Lieutenant Perrin introduced me to the prince, and when I got into trouble, the prince himself let me out of the dungeons.”

  Ren stared at him in disbelief. He wondered briefly if the young man had suffered a head injury. Yori knew nothing of his father’s clan or of runes. He did not even know that his father had in fact been a very skilled rune carver.

  “What do you know of your father and his clan?” Ren asked.

  “Very little,” Yori replied. “I know he was from the Sycamore Clan, and he traded goods here in Enald where he met my mother. That’s about it.”

  “He was a rune carver,” Ren stated flatly. “King Domren had insisted he come to work for him, but your father refused. He would not craft weapons that would be used against his people. His refusal is what got him killed.”

  Yori silently absorbed the information his uncle had given him. He was not aware that the king had any knowledge of his father, or that he had demanded his father’s services as a weapon maker. Until now, he had not even known his father was a smith.

  Ren spoke again despite Yori’s silence. “How could the prince have known this when you didn’t?”

  Shaking his head, Yori replied, “I don’t think he knew it at all. He complimented my work on the hilt of his sword and said I would make a good rune carver. Until he found me in the dungeons, he had no idea I had elven blood.”

  “You did excellent work on the sword, Yori. You will make an exceptional rune carver one day. I only hope you are able to find your father’s people in the Wildlands. It isn’t safe to travel there, and I can’t give you any information as to their whereabouts.”

  Yori handed his uncle the purse full of coins the lieutenant had paid him for the sword. Ren accepted the purse and handed a few of the coins back to Yori. “The elves don’t deal in coin, but you’ve earned a share of the profits.”

  Yori accepted the coins gratefully. “Thank you, Uncle.”

  Meladee, who had been observing their conversation in silence, suddenly began to sob. “You can’t go away,” she said through her tears. “Don’t leave, Yori.”

  Yori knelt once more to comfort the girl. “I have to,” he began. “When the prince tells you to do something, you have to do it. That’s just how it works, Meladee.” His green eyes looked at her apologetically. She did not understand. All she knew was that her best friend was leaving her, probably forever.

  Trella returned to the smithy, a basket filled with cloth in her hands. Her eyes went immediately to the sobbing young girl. Giving Ren an accusing glance, she reached down and picked her up. “What’s wrong, my darling girl?” she asked. “Mama will make it better.”

  “Yori’s leaving again,” Meladee squeaked, burying her face into her mother’s shoulder.

  “You’ve only just returned,” Trella said, looking at Yori.

  “I know,” he replied, “but I can’t stay. I have business to attend to on behalf of the prince.”

  Trella’s mouth dropped open slightly as she heard his words. “Will you at least be staying for dinner?” she asked. “This business can wait until the morning, surely.”

  “Of course,” Yori replied, sounding relieved. He was glad Trella didn’t ask for more of an explanation. In many ways she reminded him of his mother, and he did not want to tell her he had just been thrown in prison. Even if he had not truly committed
a crime, he still felt too ashamed to express those words to his aunt.

  “It looks like the prince has provided you with some fine garments,” Trella commented. She reached out to touch the sleeve of Yori’s shirt. “This is very fine indeed. Look at this, Meladee. This is a rich man’s clothing.” The little girl lifted her face from her mother’s shoulder and stared at Yori. “You see, sweet girl, he has a very important friend, and he has to leave us in order to serve him. It is a great honor, and we must be brave and let him go.” She kissed the girl on her cheek.

  Meladee nodded and her tears began to slow. Her mother always knew just what to say to make her feel better.

  “I’ll get dinner started,” Trella said. “Don’t stay too late,” she added, looking at Ren. She retrieved her basket and carried Meladee back to their home.

  “I’m going to miss having your help around here,” Ren said. “You do fine work.”

  Yori smiled nervously and nodded. Ren rarely gave compliments, but his words were always sincere. He wondered if his uncle ever thought of him as a son rather than just an apprentice. Having never known his real father, Ren was the closest thing he had to one.

  Tonight would be his last night among his human family. If he managed to find his father’s clan, he hoped they would accept him. There were many questions they could answer for him regarding his father. Yori knew next to nothing about him and wondered what kind of person he had been. Perhaps they even had a few things in common. With luck, he might survive the Wildlands long enough to find out.

  Chapter 15

  Lisalla stood on her balcony gazing at the Wrathful Mountains. This spectacular view had greeted her every day since she was born, and now she was preparing to leave it behind. The mountains stood tall and proud in the distance as she peered at the mist that hid the white caps from view and wondered what life on a mountaintop must be like. A sense of freedom came over her as she pictured herself high in the mountains, looking down upon the clouds. Closing her eyes, she tried to embed the image to her memory in case she was never able to return.