War Of The Wildlands

by Lana Axe

  When the raft reached the far bank, Yori hopped off first to offer a hand to the rest of the elves as they disembarked. Carrying the majority of his grandfather’s belongings, he chose a flat patch of earth where they could build the new forge. “Will this spot work?” he asked his grandfather.

  “Looks just fine to me,” he replied. “I’m guessing they plan to rebuild the village close to the bank. There is a fire elemental living in a tower just a few days’ walk from here. No one wants to live too close to him.”

  “What does a fire elemental look like?” Yori asked.

  “Beats me,” Darin replied. “He probably has red hair, though.” He smiled lightheartedly at his grandson.

  For a moment, Yori was tempted to go and see for himself but thought better of it. He felt out of place now that the village was being relocated. Reylana’s words echoed in his ears, and he wondered if he was indeed a coward. The thought of war gave him nothing but bad feelings. His heart ached to see the elves treated fairly and for an end to the violence. No one should have to die for a piece of land.

  “Grandfather,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about the Sunswept Isles. I’ve heard they enchant weapons and armor using gems.”

  “I believe I’ve heard that as well,” Darin replied. “They’re all sorcerers, so they use their spells on the gems and set them into the metal. I’m told they can create very powerful enchantments.”

  “What if you used those gems and runes together?” Yori was curious whether such a thing had ever been attempted.

  “I imagine you’d have a very powerful weapon,” Darin replied. “I don’t think the Enlightened Elves bother with runes, though. I’m sure those snotty, self-righteous bastards consider them beneath their intelligence.” He thought for a moment and then asked, “Who would you give such a weapon to if you could create it?”

  Yori was surprised by the question. He had not paused to consider what could be done with something so powerful. “Well,” he began, “I don’t suppose I would want it in the hands of the attacker. Maybe I would give it to whoever was trying to defend their home.”

  “What if the people defending their home are committing atrocities of their own?” his grandfather replied. “In war, it isn’t always easy to determine who is good or bad.”

  “You’re right about that,” he said with a sigh. He had refused to travel with Reylana and provide more weapons for the elves, even though his refusal might be their downfall. However, he did not see the need to continue killing Na’zorans when the prince honestly desired peace. He could see no reason why the two sides could not end the violence and come to an agreement. “I’m not sure I belong here any longer.” His tongue felt heavy as he spoke the words.

  “It can’t be easy for you being a child of two worlds.” Darin placed his hands on his grandson’s shoulders. “I have taught you everything I know, and you have proven yourself highly skilled. You could use more practice, but you don’t have to stay around here to get it.”

  Yori hugged his grandfather tightly. He tried to swallow the lump he felt in his throat as tears began to form in his eyes. “I love you, Grandfather. Thank you for everything.”

  “I love you too,” the old elf replied. “Your father had the traveling spirit in him as well. Where will you go?”

  “I think I’ll try the Sunswept Isles. I’d like to learn how their magic affects steel.”

  “You might have trouble finding someone to teach you. They aren’t exactly a friendly bunch.” Darin laughed as he spoke.

  “They’ll think I’m too tall for a Wild Elf. Maybe I can fool them into thinking I’m one of them.”

  “Maybe so,” Darin replied, clapping Yori on the back. “At least stay for dinner. You can be on your way in the morning.”

  “Don’t you need my help with the new forge?” Yori asked.

  “Lem is more than capable of helping me rebuild the forge,” he replied. “We’ll be here waiting for you when you get back.”

  Yori did not know why he felt the urge to travel and learn about other magical weapons. He knew very well that anything he created would likely be used in war, since weapons are not typically used for peaceful purposes. Still, he wanted to learn all that he could. Someday he might return to the prince and serve him in times of peace. Even without the threat of war, it was best to have a way of defending one’s self. Evil could take on any guise, and his skills may be needed one day.

  Chapter 33

  Mi’tal strode beside the prince as he marched heavily down the stone corridor of the palace. He had not bothered to change out of his battle clothing, and his chainmail rattled as he walked.

  “My lord, is it wise to barge into your father’s council chambers like this?” Mi’tal asked. Aelryk’s dark eyes shot an annoyed glance his direction.

  The pair continued at a brisk pace until they reached the arched wooden doors of the council chambers. Not waiting for the guards to open them for him, the prince swung the doors wide with the strength of both arms. The councilors inside sat stunned, staring at the prince.

  “A marvelous entrance as always,” King Domren spat. “What do you want?”

  “I want a word with you, Father,” the prince demanded. “These fools can stay or go. It matters not.”

  “We are in the middle of a discussion. You can wait outside,” the king replied with a dismissing wave of his hand.

  “This will not wait!” Aelryk shouted. “You will hear me now!”

  The councilors glanced at one another, wondering if they should leave the room. The temptation to listen in, however, proved too strong. The king had not ordered them to leave, and they silently agreed to stay and witness the spectacle.

  “How dare you barge your way in here and give me orders! I should have you thrown in the stocks!” The king rose to his feet and stared red-faced at his son.

  “You can throw me where you like, but first you will listen. You are a tyrant and a fool. I will not continue to slaughter peaceful elves. You cannot possibly hope to defend all of the Wildlands, and you’re risking war with Al’marr and Ra’jhou!”

  “Al’marr barely has an army and Ra’jhou will fight alongside us. That was the price of your bride. We will eradicate the elven presence, and our people will inhabit all the land east of the river. In time, we will have the west side as well.”

  “You’re completely mad,” the prince replied. “You can’t think to take over the west bank.”

  “Why not?” the king asked. “No one could possibly stop me.”

  “There is a sorcerer there more powerful than all of your mages combined. You would be sending your army to certain death.”

  “That is a fairy tale, my gullible son.”

  “The elves of the Sunswept Isles speak of battles with this sorcerer. They all failed to subdue him. Human mages have nothing on Enlightened Elves, and they will be slaughtered.”

  “Then I’ll find more,” the king replied with a shrug.

  “What will you do with all of the land you’re planning to take? It is nothing but forests and meadows.”

  “Those things can be easily removed,” King Domren said, taking his seat once again. “We will build new towns and farming villages and our population will grow. Every family will be required to enlist a son into my army until we have enough men to conquer all of Nōl’Deron.”

  Aelryk could not believe his ears. If his father truly intended to destroy the forests, he was determined to stop him. “I will not allow that to happen,” he said calmly.

  “Are you threatening your king?” The king rose to his feet again, staring angrily at his son. “You will leave my presence this instant.”

  Aelryk stared at his father for a moment before turning to leave. He glanced quickly at his father’s councilors, who appeared nervous and uneasy. If they valued their lives and fortunes, they had no choice but to agree with the king. Plainly, however, many of them disagreed with the king’s plan.

  Mi’tal had waited outside the door and
rejoined Aelryk as he stormed from the council chambers. “Where are you going, my lord?” he asked.

  “I need to borrow your hammer,” he replied.

  “May I ask for what purpose?”

  “I feel like breaking something!” The prince clenched his fists as he continued down the corridor. Exiting the palace, Mi’tal drew the hammer and offered it to the prince.

  “Put it away,” the prince said, seeming calmer now that he was outside in the fresh air.

  Mi’tal slipped the hammer back into its holster and said, “It is ever at your command, my lord.”

  A young boy in peasant clothing approached the prince. Clearly out of breath, the boy had been running at top speed to deliver a message. “Your Majesty,” he said, panting. “Your Highness, I mean. I have a message from General Luca, sir, Majesty.” He leaned his hands on his knees and doubled over to catch his breath.

  “What is it?” the prince asked, losing patience.

  “A carriage, my lord, was found. The princess’s carriage. She is gone, my lord.”

  “What do you mean? She was taken prisoner?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty, sir. She was taken by elves. The other carriages were found north of Duana. Some of the drivers and guards were killed with elf arrows, sir.” The boy stood up straight again having recovered his breath. He spoke with his head bowed out of respect for the prince.

  “Did General Luca send anyone to find her?”

  “I, umm...” the boy began. “I don’t know, Majesty. He said to inform you right away. I’ve been running for two days with only an hour or two of sleep. I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t think to ask questions.”

  “It’s not your fault, young man,” the prince said reassuringly. He gave the boy a few coins and turned to Mi’tal.

  “We must find her,” he said. “I can only hope they’ve decided not to kill her since she was not found among the dead.”

  “Perhaps they mean to use her as leverage,” Mi’tal suggested, smoothing his black hair with a gloved hand.

  “We can only hope as much,” the prince replied. “I need you to find out where they’ve taken her. Do whatever you can to negotiate her release and secure peace with the elves. I will remain here to keep an eye on my father. I will do whatever it takes to prevent another massacre.”

  “Of course, my lord. I will do what I can.” Mi’tal knew that this would be an incredibly dangerous mission. Assuming he managed to make it behind enemy lines without a dozen arrows in his heart, he had no idea if they would listen to reason. There were several clans scattered throughout the Wildlands, none of which had a village that was marked on any map. Every village the Na’zorans had known about had been destroyed. Unsure of where to begin looking, he proceeded to the stables to fetch his horse.

  Instead of taking men along for the journey, Mi’tal decided it was best to travel alone. He would appear less of a threat if he was unaccompanied and bore a white banner of peace. Perhaps the elves would take pity on a man alone and hold their fire long enough for him to speak. His only regret was being too far from King Domren to assist the prince in ascending the throne. For now, his other plans would have to wait.

  Chapter 34

  Lisalla walked unbound at the head of the company next to Reylin. The elven army now numbered over twelve hundred strong. Luckily, the Mountain Clan warriors already possessed runed weapons, thanks to the skill of their clan’s rune carver. Every evening when the company stopped to rest, he worked diligently etching runes into the blades of the sword maidens or the tips of the archers’ arrows. In time, all of their weapons would carry the magical symbols that would sway the odds in their favor.

  The forest remained frozen, locked in winter’s grasp. A few inches of crunchy snow blanketed the earth, preventing Lisalla’s feet from warming. She still wore the soft slippers she had brought from her homeland, and they provided little in the way of warmth. Hugging the fur blanket around her shoulders, she tried to focus on walking and forget her winter surroundings.

  When they stopped for the night, Essa took out her broadsword and began polishing the blade. Sal, who had been admiring her at a distance, finally found the courage to approach her.

  “That’s a fine blade,” he commented. Essa ignored him and continued to rub a cloth along the sword. Sal waited a moment and spoke again. “Are you going to have our rune carver etch it for you?”

  “Maybe,” she replied, still looking at the blade.

  Sal took a deep breath and let it out. He took a seat next to Essa and said, “We could die in battle tomorrow, you know. Would you like to mate tonight?”

  “You could die today,” she replied, glaring at him and tightening her grip on her sword.

  “I don’t mean to offend,” he said, raising his hand to touch her dark hair. She grabbed his wrist and squeezed it.

  “Don’t touch me,” she said through clenched teeth. “Get away from me,” she added, shoving his arm away.

  “I’ll mate with you,” one of the Mountain Clan women said. “Come on, Sal.”

  Sal smiled at the woman and turned back to Essa. “Looks like you’re going to miss out,” he said before taking the other woman’s hand. They ascended into the trees together, while Essa remained focused on her blade.

  Reylin, who had not overheard any of the conversation, took a seat next to Essa.

  “Why are men always so preoccupied with mating?” she asked, obviously annoyed.

  “All I did was sit down!” Reylin replied in a surprised tone.

  Essa shook her head.

  “Anyway,” Reylin began, “I wanted to ask your opinion on what to do next. I think we should give the rune carver time to work on everyone’s weapons. After that we can resume the fight.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Essa replied. “It was a nice surprise that the Mountain Clan had a rune carver. Still, he is only one man. The work could take a long time, and I hate to sit idle.”

  “We could watch the road for travelers in the meantime. Maybe Reylana will return soon with the Sycamore Clan’s rune carver.”

  “They could all be dead, for all we know.” Essa put her blade back in its leather scabbard. “But I hope not. It’s a long journey. I think we should move to a more central location where all of the clans can meet if they decide to join us.”

  “I agree,” Reylin said. “We should make sure there are patrols near the border at all times, though. We don’t want to be taken by surprise, even if we all join together. The next strike should be ours.”

  Essa nodded in agreement. “What are you planning for the princess?”

  “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “They probably know by now that we have her, but I don’t know if they care. She’s just one girl after all.”

  “Yes, but she is a very rich girl,” Essa replied. “I think they will come looking for her. Ra’jhou might even send an entire army to find her. Are you prepared to fight both kingdoms?”

  “I suppose if we have to,” he said. “Maybe we could bargain her freedom for their help against Na’zora.”

  “They would certainly be a welcome addition to our army,” she replied. “I think she likes you. Maybe you should see what she knows about her kingdom’s politics.”

  “I’m not so sure she wants to be my friend,” he began, “but I can try.” He stood and approached the campfire where Lisalla and Danna were sitting quietly.

  Lisalla nodded as he approached. Danna’s eyes grew wide, and she stared at the ground. “Why does this one recoil when I approach?” he asked, gesturing to Danna.

  “She’s frightened,” Lisalla replied.

  “Has she no voice of her own?”

  Danna began to sob, burying her face in her hands. Reylin shook his head in disbelief. “She is a coward and a disgrace,” he said.

  “She isn’t accustomed to being a hostage or going along on forced marches!” Lisalla protested. “You could have a little compassion.”

  “It would be compassion to put her out of her misery. Woul
d you like that?”

  Lisalla’s mouth clamped shut, and she gave no reply.

  “I’ve come to ask you about your father, the king. If we release you to him, will he fight on our side against Na’zora?”

  “My father does as he pleases. I cannot say what he would give for my safe return.” After a moment, she added, “You could send Danna with the message. It can’t hurt to try.”

  Danna paused in her sobbing to look at Lisalla. She glanced at Reylin and then back to the princess. “Please let Lisalla go home,” she begged.

  “Go back to your bawling,” Reylin commanded.

  “My father has agreed to help Na’zora. That was the price of my dowry.”

  “I see,” Reylin says. “Was he gathering an army to march against us?”

  “No,” she replied. “I don’t think he truly intended to fight. He just wanted me married and gone.”

  Reylin laughed. “The joys of being a princess, I suppose.”

  “He might pay you for my return, but I do not know if he will go to war. There has not been a war in Ra’jhou during my lifetime. My father is no war leader.”

  “So what you’re saying is it’s hopeless to ask.”

  “I’m trying to answer you truthfully. I do not know how my father will react.” The princess looked in Reylin’s eyes as she spoke. She never glanced away, hoping to convince him of her honesty. Earning his respect may very well be the key to saving her life, and she intended to have it.

  “If I send this girl with a message, will she return with an army?”

  “She will do exactly as I tell her,” Lisalla replied. “She is my loyal servant.”