Clans of Irradan

by RG Long

  “She has proven herself by many accounts. If she is willing, she should go,” he said in his deep voice.

  “Sire,” Wayan said, bowing to the elf. “I don’t doubt her energy or her determination. I’m just unsure of her ability.”

  Wayan had quickly changed his opinion on the elves from Azol’s involvement once he heard about Orthon’s plan to kill the emperor directly. Not that he disagreed with the idea. He just seemed keen on keeping Serinde out of it. Erilas was on Wayan’s side without even trying to be. She had disavowed herself from the whole plot the very first time it was mentioned.

  “Will that stop you from attempting to go on this endeavor?” Orthon asked Serinde. He hadn’t taken his gaze off of her to look at Wayan.

  Serinde was slow to answer, but confident.

  “No, sire,” she said with both respect and finality.

  A royal smile crossed Orthon’s face.

  “She should go,” he said. “She won’t be alone, after all.”

  “No, she won’t,” came another unexpected voice from behind Orthon. Every head turned to see Erilas standing in the doorway, one hand holding her other elbow. As awkward looking as Serinde felt confident, her sister stood avoiding everyone’s eyes but Serinde’s.

  “I believed you were against the operation?” Orthon asked politely, though he knew the answer as well as anyone who had been in on their first meeting. She had given a concise but final vote in the negative then. “Have you changed your mind?”

  She shook her head.

  “I just don’t want my sister getting herself killed without me trying to protect her,” she said. She probably had meant it to sound brave. Serinde thought it sounded like a kitten pretending it was a tiger.

  “Prepare yourselves, then,” Orthon said with a clap of his hands. “You’ll leave with the others come first light.”

  “Others?” Serinde asked, following Orthon as he strode to the long table to consult the same map Wayan had been pouring over.

  “A small group, but a deadly one,” the rebel leader explained. “A skilled assassin, two bodyguards, and a guide.”

  Serinde knew which of the categories she was not.

  “Bodyguards?” she inquired.

  “You’re to ensure our blade hits its mark without coming to an unexpected early end,” Orthon told her. “If your sister is willing to protect you, she must also protect our warrior.”

  Erilas made no attempt to argue. She only pretended to look interested in the map she had come to stand beside. Serinde knew that look in her eyes.

  “The assassin and the guide then?” Serinde asked.

  “You’ll never guess,” came a familiar voice. The company turned to look at its owner.

  Omioor stood behind the group beaming beside an elf cloaked all in gray. Not even his head was uncovered. Only a small sliver of his (and Serinde was only assuming it was a male) face and eyes could be seen through his garb. The old elf motioned with his hand to the hooded stranger.

  “Thought I might introduce you to my son.”

  39: Forest Fortifications

  “So, no cutting down trees?” Gorplin asked for the fifth time in between deep grunts, sweat pouring down his brow. “They do know that would make this about ten times easier.”

  “Just be glad they let us use rocks,” Tory replied as he heaved another heavy boulder from the earth and added it to the pile.

  Elves worked all around them, but with care and caution not to harm any living plant or animal. It had taken a lot of explaining, listening, and understanding, but Tory and Gorplin had finally managed to convince Ferinan to allow them to help protect the elves. On the one condition that, in so doing, they also protected the forest.

  No trees or plants were to be harmed. No animal misplaced. It had taken the better part of two days, but they had finally agreed that dirt and rocks could be used to help fortify the elven base. It was not going to be ideal, but Tory was determined to make it work. These elves deserved the right to live.

  Even if they sometimes maddeningly sought to die.

  “I just don’t get letting yourself get killed over some trees,” Gorplin complained as he added his own heavy rock to the stack. “Not bloody worth it.”

  Several elves around them gave the dwarf a hard look. Tory tried to intercept.

  “Not that I get it myself,” he said as he went after the next, and hopefully last, boulder. “But think about home. Your mountain on Ruyn. Wouldn’t you do anything to get it back? To defend it?”

  “Bah,” the dwarf muttered.

  It was by this that Tory knew he had convinced the dwarf. He didn’t try to argue back. And Tory could himself understand, though only slightly. He knew how much the elves valued their home. So much so that they put its trees before their own families. It didn’t make sense to him completely, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him from trying to help defend them.

  Tory carried a large stone over the pile and surveyed the work being done. The ruined city had once been an ancient seat of the elves before they split with the ones from the south. This was a city whose history was hard for the elves to reconcile, but at least it would provide fortifications. A wall of small measure was built around the city. It had long since crumbled to pieces in most places, but this was what Tory had planned to use to help defend the elves.

  Using mud, dead grass, and stones, they were able to reinforce the wall in places and make it larger in others.

  “You worried about these rocks?” Gorplin said as he put a hand to one of the stones they had just laid into the wall. It glowed in response to his touch.

  “Not as much as I’m worried that the elders are still holding spears,” Tory said, looking at a particularly ancient elf walk past him, spear and shield in hand. “I’m going to go speak with Ferinan.”

  He wiped the caked mud off of his hands onto a nearby stone and started off to find the leader of the elves.

  “But the wall!” Gorplin said, removing his hand from the stone and walking a few paces after Tory.

  “Keep working on it, shorty!” Tory called over his shoulder. He was fairly certain he heard a few choice dwarven curses before he walked out of earshot. Most of the other elves had begun to move inside the wall. Tory passed through the only entrance they had left open: a gap six elves wide. Above it, suspended by vines, were two large boulders. Their restraints strained at their weight, but held as Tory walked through.

  Elves were bustling from place to place as he went. Work on the wall was not the only advice they had given the Wood Walkers. Pits were being dug along the ancient road to the wall. The trees that stood for centuries were being tended to, and a few other surprises Tory hoped would keep the invaders at bay for a while were being added all around the city.

  It didn’t take him long to find Ferinan. She could be found at the entrance of the ruined city, barking orders and pointing elves from one location to another. When she spotted Tory, she did not look utterly disgusted, which Tory took to mean she was warming up to him.

  “And how do your plans go?” she asked.

  It had been the same question she had asked for a week. Their saving grace had been the forest all along, as an army had a difficult time marching through it. They had regular reports on the Enoth empire’s progress to keep them in line, but the last word had been that the major force of the army was only a day away. Two if they were lucky.

  “We’ve nearly completed the wall,” Tory answered, inclining his head out of respect to the elder. He wasn’t sure if she was even looking at him, though.

  “The pits are dug and the other defenses are being added.”

  She barked out another command at an elf who scurried away to obey, then turned her eyes to him. Tory had the distinct feeling that she was looking past his eyes and into his mind with her penetrating gaze. He didn’t dare look away, however. There wasn’t a single part of him that was insincere.

  “I pray the forest survives this,” she said after a very uncomfortab
ly long pause.

  Tory breathed and furrowed his brows.

  “You do that,” he said, not meaning to sound brash, but speaking his mind. “I’ll pray your people live to tell the forest how they saved it.”

  He turned to walk away. There would be no convincing her to put the elders with the children. He knew that in his heart. These elves were infuriating to him.

  Still.

  Tory was determined to save them if he could.

  “Tory Greenwall.”

  He turned to see Ferinan still standing in the same place she had been, arms crossed and face hard. Yet in her eyes, there seemed to be a small change.

  “May the forest bless you,” she said gruffly before turning and walking off to shout at more elves.

  Tory shook his head and shrugged. It wasn’t as thankful a response as he had hoped, but he would take what he could get.

  Trumpets sounded more loud and clear then Tory had heard in the past several days. A buzz of anxiety and energy began to fill the camp as most of the elves rushed to the wall. Tory joined them as they made their way towards the outer defenses of the ruined city.

  He climbed up a crude staircase of boulders so that he could get a better view into the forest beyond. Wildlife was running in all directions. Birds flew over his head. Gazing into the forest, Tory could just make out distant banners and a large swath of purple as the army of Enoth approached through the trees.

  "Make-ready the first defenses!" he shouted. "And close the opening!"

  As he said it, the two large boulders were released from their restraints and crashed into one another, closing the only entrance they had left into the room and city. They were closed in now.

  And something felt wrong to him.

  Tory swore as he looked around for his friend, the one he had told t0 keep working on the wall.

  "Where is that dwarf?" he asked the wind as war cries filled the morning.

  40: The War of the Ancients

  The elves of Enoth lined the edge of the ruined city. It was difficult to count how many there were besieging them. Trees on all sides blocked the view of the full army’s might. What was a curse, however, was also a blessing. Tory saw no catapults or other normal machines of war. That meant they might last longer than he anticipated.

  Which, even if he only admitted it to himself, wasn’t past the suns’ setting that evening.

  Banners fluttered in the air. The buzz that had been palpable in the camp a few moments before had died to a breath. Elves behind the wall stood facing the elves outside of it. Tory did the only thing that felt natural to him: he drew his sword.

  An elf or two gave him a sideways glance. He knew he must have looked odd. His was the only blade, other than Gorplin’s ax, that he was aware of in the entire city. This strategy was certainly not what Tory would have chosen were things up him. But, here in the forest, he knew he had to play by the rules given to him.

  A cold sweat covered him like he had not experienced before a battle in a long time. Being a veteran of many fights had made him comfortable with fighting. But that was when things were as he expected them to be.

  This time was different.

  The army gathered against them was what he expected it to be: elves armed to the teeth with spear and bow and sword. His side was equipped in a very different manner.

  Striding forward, two elves carrying purple banners above their heads came towards the city. In between them, an elf dressed in white robes carried a large roll of parchment. The whole elven host gathered outside of the city stood quiet and still. With a loud voice, the one who carried the parchment read from the document.

  “The elves of Enoth greet you, our age-old brothers and sisters, and wish for no blood of elves to be spilled here this day.”

  Tory let out a stifled grunt of mirth.

  “We wish for you to proclaim loyalty to the empire, surrender your lands to our glorious emperor, and pledge eternal allegiance to the nine stars of Enoth. In so doing, you will spare your lives and receive the care and love of Rophilborn, Emperor of Enoth and Lord of the Stars!”

  No one moved. No sound came from the gathered host before them.

  Then, whizzing past him, a rock flew with dizzying speed and struck the parchment from the hand of the cryer. He yelped in surprise, but appeared uninjured.

  “Take your army back to your own lands and spoil the forest no more!” Ferinan cried from the remains of a tall building overlooking the wall they had built. “The Wood Walkers will yield to no master who seeks the destruction of this sacred ground!”

  A cheer erupted from the elves along the wall at the words of their leader. That same cry was turned to screams as arrows came flying over the wall at them.

  “Defend!” Tory shouted as he and many of the elves bent low behind the cover of the wall. Arrows struck the fortifications all around them. He could feel them whizzing past his head as the elven archers sent volley after volley at them.

  “Prepare the return!” Tory shouted after he felt the number of arrows flying at them lessen as archers reloaded quivers and took new targets. This was where his experience ended and new ways of waging war were upon him. The elves of the woods were not all trained in the bow or even the spear. They did not seek out ways to kill one another as a whole and kept no army,

  But that did not mean they were defenseless.

  Loud piercing noises rang above him and he looked up. Thousands of birds flew from the back of the city towards the wall they defended. With deafening screeches, the birds flew over the wall and into the ranks of the soldiers outside. When the birds had passed, Tory stood to see the chaos below. The Enoth army was not scattering, but there was certainly a mass of disruptions below. The archers could find no single target as they appeared to be covered in birds that were scratching, clawing, and pecking them in savage fashion.

  “Huh,” Tory said in admiration. “Score one for the birds.”

  “But when are we going to get to stick our blades into the rabble?” said a voice from below him.

  “Gorplin!” Tory exclaimed, relieved to see the dwarf was inside the wall and uninjured.

  “Bah,” he said, shrugging off Tory’s hand on his shoulder. “Get ready for the attack on the wall.”

  He was right. While the archers were busy fending off birds, elves in bright armor were beginning to advance on the wall. Tory shouted his commands back over his shoulder at the elves on the ground below the wall.

  “Warriors advancing on the walls!” he shouted. “Prepare the first defense!”

  The wall he stood on began to glow with a pale green light as the Rimstone inside of it began responding to the chants of the elves below. Tory looked out over the wall at the grim-faced attackers.

  “Think this will work?” Gorplin asked, holding his axe with a tight grip.

  “Better,” Tory managed to say. He found that he was sweating even though the air was cool.

  The ground began to rumble underneath them. He looked down at the wall he stood on and saw small pebbles begin to rise off of the ground and float just below his knees.

  “Brace!” Tory yelled out, just as the vines from the surrounding trees shot from their branches and lunged for the oncoming warriors. The line they had formed was thrown into chaos. Vines wrapped themselves around groups of warriors and crushed them. Others tripped whole companies and put them onto their backs. Still more were knocked backwards into their comrades.

  The elves along the wall cheered as their enemies were beaten back by the power of the natural Rimstone and the forest. Tory breathed. For a moment, he let himself think that they might even be able to repel the Enoth army. Perhaps the forest really was as strong as its inhabitants thought it was.

  Then came a purple hue from behind the line of marching soldiers. The Speakers of Enoth were preparing their own magic.

  “Magic defense!” Tory shouted. His shouts were drowned in the smashing of the vines and the cries of the angered warriors.

  Purple
bolts of lightning began to pour from the ranks of Enoth warriors. One hit the rock wall ten paces from Tory. Elves and stone went flying in all directions. Tory was blown to his side and smashed hard against the rocks. He felt something warm splash the side of his face. He spat blood from his own mouth and yelled again, as loudly as he could.

  “Speakers! Defend!”

  Tory saw that a large chunk of the wall had been blown away by a concentrated blast. What was once three elves high was now the height of a man. The elves who attacked would be over the defenses if they could get close enough.

  Again the wall shook. This time, however, it did not glow green. Tory looked down to see the rocks beneath him begin to turn a shade of deep green, then fade to dark blue. In a moment of recognition, he knew who was manipulating the magic that flowed with the Rimstone now.

  “Speakers!” he shouted again. not knowing if the elves Ferinan had selected to guard them against magical attack and deliver their own strikes with the power of Speaking to the elements were dead, or just unable to control their power when faced with such opposition.

  “Bah!” came a shout from down below. “Better get to magicin’ that wall, or we’ll be burned to the ground! Anyone with somethin’ sharp, follow me!”

  Gorplin, small though he was and as wide as two slender elves, hefted his Rimstone ax into the air and charged up the stones that had been blasted out of the wall right into the breach. He stood there, ax held high, and shouted at the Enoth army.

  “Come and see what a dwarf is made of, you long-eared, weak boned, limp fishes!”

  Tory raised his own blade and sought to join his friend at the wall’s weak spot. Then came the ladders. Metal ladders, able to withstand being burned or chopped down, came towards the wall being held aloft by their Enoth makers. Not that Tory could envision a Wood Walker hacking away at wood or seeking to burn it. Gorplin would have to hold his own for a while.

  He had elves to fight.

  41: The Masked One