War Of The Wildlands

by Lana Axe

  Soon, Lisalla would be leaving to meet her husband. Prince Aelryk of Na’zora was described as strikingly handsome as well as good-natured. Her excitement over her upcoming marriage was marred only by the fact that she had to leave her home. In her dreams, a prince had always traveled to Ra’jhou to marry her and take over her father’s throne. In reality, she would have to travel to a land she had never even visited and someday become their queen.

  “My lady,” Danna said as she walked out onto the balcony. “You still haven’t decided on a wedding gown. Most of your things are packed, and we really should bring wedding clothes with us. Your father says the ceremony will take place immediately.”

  Lisalla smiled at her maid and asked, “Are your things prepared as well?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the young woman replied. “It’s you I’m concerned about.”

  “I’ll choose something,” Lisalla said with a sigh. “I just don’t understand why we have to be married so quickly. I want some time to know my husband before we wed.”

  “I’m afraid that isn’t how things work for royalty,” Danna said sympathetically.

  “Maybe we can have more fun finding you a husband,” Lisalla said, playfully tugging at Danna’s long dark hair.

  Danna blushed and pushed her hair back over her shoulders. “I think that’s going to have to wait a while,” she said.

  “Come and sit with me,” Lisalla said, pulling on Danna’s arm. The two sat together at the intricate metal table near the balcony’s railing. Lisalla closed her eyes and turned her face to the wind, her blonde ringlets dancing lazily on the breeze. Taking in a deep breath, the crisp mountain air filled her lungs. The days were growing shorter and the air cooler, but winter would not dampen her spirits. Her life was changing, and she was determined that it be for the better.

  “Tell me about Na’zora, Danna. Have you ever been there?”

  “No, my lady,” Danna said. “I hear it is a very nice kingdom, and the palace overlooks the sea. The weather is a bit warmer there, and it doesn’t snow as frequently as it does here. The summers can be very hot and humid, though.” Danna thought for a few seconds and added, “I hear the food is very good.”

  Lisalla laughed. “Who can think of eating when wedding nerves set in?” she asked. “My main concern is whether this prince will like me.”

  “He will love you from the moment he sees you,” Danna replied. “He is said to be very handsome, and you will have beautiful children together.”

  “Let’s go and look at those gowns shall we?” Lisalla stood, followed by Danna. They passed through Lisalla’s spacious bedroom and out into the palace corridor. Their footsteps echoed along the brightly polished marble floors. Descending the stairs, Lisalla took her maid’s arm and leaned in close. Whispering, she said, “What color do you think the prince would like?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know, my lady,” Danna replied.

  They continued walking arm in arm until they reached the dressmaker’s quarters. Lisalla’s mother was extremely passionate about her wardrobe and insisted a royal dressmaker be kept on staff at all times. She was given elaborate quarters next to the queen’s own chambers and was on call at all hours. Four sewing assistants were also housed in servant quarters adjoining the royal dressmaker’s rooms. When the queen demanded a gown, she did not like to wait long for its completion.

  Stepping inside the brightly lit room, the girls finally let go of each other.

  The royal dressmaker greeted them warmly. “Welcome, Your Highness,” she said. “Please, have a seat. I will bring out the gowns I have prepared.”

  Clapping her hands together, the dressmaker summoned her assistants. Seeing that the princess had come, they darted off to retrieve the gowns. Within seconds, several elegant gowns of varying colors were presented before her. “Do you have a specific color in mind?” the woman asked.

  Lisalla glanced at Danna and smiled. “Not yet,” she said.

  The servants laid the gowns on a large wooden table that had been covered with a blue velvet cloth. The room had several windows, allowing a good amount of light to fall on the garments. Lisalla began inspecting each gown and running her fingers over the fabric. Danna followed suit with a dreamy look in her dark eyes.

  Lisalla moved rather quickly through the dresses until she came to a simple lavender gown. “This one,” she said, stroking the fine lace that adorned the dress. “I like this one.”

  “My lady that one is too plain for a wedding,” the dressmaker said. “The girls shouldn’t have brought that one.” She gave a severe look to her servants, who bowed their heads apologetically.

  “No, it’s perfect,” the princess insisted. “I can see it isn’t quite finished, but this is my dress.” She lifted it from the table and held it in front of her. Her bright blue eyes and pale skin were accentuated by the lavender hue of the fabric, and her blonde ringlets cascaded on top of the lace, emphasizing the two distinct colors.

  Danna gasped as she looked upon her friend. “It’s so beautiful on you,” she said as tears filled her eyes. “You look like a bride.”

  Lisalla smiled warmly and asked, “How soon can you have this finished?”

  “An hour, my lady,” the dressmaker replied. “Do you have any special requests for it?”

  “Can you weave some silver threads through the lace to give it a bit of sparkle? Also add some small pearls, since I’ll be living near the ocean.”

  “Of course, Your Highness,” the woman said, bowing.

  Lisalla handed the gown over to one of the servant girls and again grabbed Danna’s arm. “We need shoes now, don’t we? Let’s go and visit the shoemaker in the marketplace.”

  “My lady, we don’t have time to go all the way to the market. You have to be ready to leave by morning.”

  “Your Highness,” the dressmaker said. “I can have satin shoes with lace trim ready for you as well. They will match the dress perfectly.”

  Lisalla tried to hide her disappointment. “That will do nicely. Thank you.” She regretted that she wouldn’t have one last chance to visit the marketplace. Shopping was one of her favorite activities. She loved to see all the new items from across the seas. It brought to her mind images of far-off lands where the items had been crafted. She doubted she would ever travel to those places, but having small pieces of those lands brought to her was enough to satisfy her thirst for adventure.

  The girls returned to Lisalla’s room where Danna began hurriedly packing more of the princess’s belongings. Lisalla sat on a cushioned chair facing a large window.

  “I hope my prince likes lavender,” she said.

  “When he sees you in that dress, it will become his favorite color,” Danna replied.

  Lisalla couldn’t help but laugh. She was growing more and more excited and also a bit nervous. Tomorrow I will leave my home, and in a week I will meet my future husband. “I hope you are right about everything, Danna.”

  Chapter 16

  Recent storms in the area had created choppy waters near the docks in the Kingdom of Na’zora. The elven slaves wore thick chains, and their backs bore the scars of the fierce beatings they received when they refused to work for the humans. Only ten of them remained out of the twenty-three who had been taken captive. Thirteen had been beaten to death because they refused to work or could not perform the duties required of them. The slaves spent their days carrying heavy loads to and from the merchant ships docked at Na’zora’s coast. They were given one small meal at the end of their long work day and lived in a tiny warehouse that was infested with rats.

  Today the slaves worked without complaining. After weeks of servitude, they had learned the best way to stay alive was to keep their mouths shut and do as they were told. Constantly looking for a method of escape, their hearts were always hopeful. They had yet to give up and resign themselves to the situation. For now they would bide their time and work, hoping that one day they would escape and take revenge on their captors.

  Aelr
yk and Mi’tal approached the docks casually, trying not to give anyone cause for suspicion. Aelryk’s plan was to free the elves from their bondage and send a message with them back to their clans. He did not intend for his father to find out exactly what he was up to. His command would not be questioned by the dockmaster, but he did not intend to reveal his true reason for freeing the slaves. Should his father find out the truth, the prince feared his reaction. King Domren was not above punishing his own son, especially if he felt betrayed.

  “Good day, dockmaster,” the prince said as the man came into view. He was short and deeply tanned from many years of labor under the sun.

  Bowing slightly before his prince, the man replied, “Good day, Your Highness. How may I be of service to you?”

  “I have need of your elven slaves for a project of my own. I trust it won’t cause you too much inconvenience.”

  “Of course not, my lord,” the dockmaster replied, not hiding the displeased look in his eyes.

  “For your trouble,” the prince said, handing the man a purse full of coins.

  Opening the purse, the man’s eyes widened. Inside were dozens of gold coins, more than three times the worth of ten elven slaves. “You are a generous and kind lord, Your Highness,” the man said, bowing again.

  “I would appreciate it if you would keep this matter silent. If anyone inquires where the slaves have gone, simply tell them they were sold to a wealthy noble who does not wish his name to be revealed.”

  “As you request, my lord,” the man replied. Right away he began chaining the elves together. One elf, a tall blonde woman, tried to resist by spitting in his face. He immediately swung the chain, striking her on her cheek. A large red gash appeared on the surface of her skin.

  Aelryk took a step forward, but Mi’tal placed a hand on his chest to hold him back. “Not now, my lord,” he said quietly. “We don’t want him to grow suspicious.”

  Aelryk stared at the dockmaster, his eyes filled with hatred. Witnessing such cruel treatment without being able to intervene was almost too much to bear. He vowed to himself to find a suitable punishment for the dockmaster at a later time.

  After the elves were chained, the dockmaster led them to their new master. Handing off the lead chain to Mi’tal, he said, “They’ll probably resist for a while, but a good beating will soon set them right.”

  Mi’tal nodded and accepted the chain. Aelryk bit his tongue to prevent himself from screaming. It was appalling to meet someone with so little regard for another living being. They were at war with these people, but prisoners deserve to be treated with some respect. If one of Aelryk’s men were taken captive, he hoped the elves would treat him well. Even in war, honor can be found.

  “Gather around, all of you,” Aelryk said, as Mi’tal ushered them together. “I am Prince Aelryk, heir to this kingdom. I’m going to free you, but first we must get you safely to our borders. You will have to remain chained for the next two days to avoid suspicion. If I unchain you, most of you will probably run and be captured. I won’t be able to offer much help in that situation. You will be at the mercy of whoever has managed to catch you.”

  The elf men and women looked suspiciously at the prince and glanced at each other in silent communication. No one spoke a word, and Mi’tal wondered if they were planning something despite the chains. “I will be escorting you,” he said. “You have my sincere vow that none of you will be harmed. We are going against the king’s wishes by doing this. The prince wishes to negotiate a peace agreement with your clans and would like you to convey that message to your kinsmen.”

  The elves stared at him, still refusing to speak. They had no idea if this was a trick. Their previous treatment at the hands of the Na’zorans would suggest this man was dishonest. However, being chained together did not leave them much choice. Whether they wished to or not, they would be forced to follow this man to their fate.

  “I apologize for the way you have been treated during your stay in my kingdom,” the prince said. “I have had no part in it, but I can assure you that any other prisoners taken during this war will be treated better. You have my word on it. Please inform your clan leaders of my desire to make peace. The attacks will continue and many lives will be lost on both sides until we have reached an agreement. Convincing my father will be difficult but not impossible. I am willing to do whatever is necessary to secure peace.”

  Turning to face Mi’tal, he said, “The carriages should be waiting for you at the stables. Make sure the drivers remember to stay silent about all of this.”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” he replied, bowing. “Follow me, please,” he said to the elves. To his relief, the elves followed willingly while he held the chain loosely in his hand. As they approached the stable, Mi’tal spotted the two plain wooden carriages that would carry the elves to their freedom. Once they were placed inside, no one would know who was being transported. The windows would remain covered, and the elves would remain chained to avoid any chance of escaping.

  Both carriage drivers appeared nervous, but they helped Mi’tal split the elves into two groups of five. Each group was loaded into a carriage, and Mi’tal took a seat next to the lead driver. With a nod, Mi’tal ordered the drivers to head for the western border.

  The wooden carriages rolled noisily over the stone streets of the palace district. Few citizens took any notice as they passed, and Mi’tal felt free to relax in his seat. For now the elves were remaining quiet, and no one was aware that he and the prince had just committed treason. If the king happened to find out about this, they could both expect to be thrown in the dungeons. Aelryk would be forgiven in time, but Mi’tal’s only hope would be for a single stroke of the headsman’s axe. His loyalty to the prince, however, was much stronger than his loyalty to the king. Though Aelryk was still young, Mi’tal could plainly see that he was a much more respectable ruler than his father.

  * * * * *

  As evening darkened into night, the carriages stopped to make camp at the edge of a small farming community. Mi’tal opened the doors himself to allow the elves to sleep outside in the fresh air. Blankets had been stored in a trunk on the back of the second carriage, and the drivers distributed them among the elves.

  “Are we going to have to sleep while chained?” a young elf asked. This was the first time any of them had spoken since the journey began.

  “I’m afraid so,” Mi’tal replied. “If you were to escape now, you might still be in danger. You have no reason to trust me, I know. If I unchain you, I can’t be certain you won’t run.”

  “What you mean is, you can’t be certain I won’t cut your throat while you sleep,” the elf said, glaring at his captor.

  “There’s that as well,” Mi’tal stated calmly. “Neither of us is much capable of trust it seems. We are at war after all.”

  “Are you really going to free us when we reach the Wildlands?” an older elf with graying hair asked. “You don’t plan to use us for slave labor anymore?”

  “I have no intention of doing so,” Mi’tal answered. “As soon as we reach the border I will release the chains, and you can go where you will. I hope you will consider carrying the prince’s message to your clansmen.”

  “I might consider it,” the older elf said. “If you keep your word, perhaps your prince will keep his as well. It’s a shame that the king has no interest in peace. He’s the one we are fighting against.”

  “That is true, but Prince Aelryk hopes to negotiate a treaty and bring it before his father. He is certain that once everything is agreed between our two peoples his father will acquiesce.”

  “Domren is a tyrant and a murderer,” an elf woman said.

  Taking a closer look at her, Mi’tal realized it was the same woman who had been struck by the dockmaster earlier in the day. “I regret the poor treatment you have received at the hands of my people,” he began. “You must believe that the prince will do everything in his power to negotiate this peace. Not all Na’zorans are like the dockmaster who mi
streated you.”

  “You’re all sheep,” she said. “You follow a tyrant king no matter how cruelly he treats his subjects. He’s beaten you all into submission, and now he has come for us. He will destroy the forest and claim the land for himself. If this prince truly wants peace, he should cut his father’s heart out and claim the throne himself. If he does that, I will carry his message to my people.”

  The woman’s harsh words landed heavily on Mi’tal’s ears. She was correct that Domren was a tyrant. He judged his own people mercilessly, and a fair trial was no longer a common occurrence. The king did not like to be questioned, and any advisor that did so risked being put to death. Luckily, Aelryk was able to see the error of his father’s ways. He had grown up to be the opposite of his father, and Mi’tal was certain he would make a far better king.

  “A man who murders his own father would be a poor king,” he replied. “Even with all his shortcomings, King Domren is still our sovereign. We must obey him.”

  “You’re not exactly obeying him now,” the older elf commented. “What would he do if he knew you were freeing us?”

  “Most likely he would have us all killed,” he replied. “Let’s hope he remains ignorant of our situation.”

  As darkness overtook the land, the elves began to settle in near the base of a large oak tree. Mi’tal and the drivers stayed close to the carriages and took turns sleeping while one stood watch. The nights were growing colder, and the sun would not be up before they would have to depart again. The farmers would awake before dawn, and the carriages would need to be loaded to prevent the elves from being seen.