by Nicole Burr
“Err, thanks.” Esra was surprised that a woman here could be a commander. There were no such women in the King’s Human army. Seeing that Shova’s arms were as big around as any of the other Unni men, Esra in no way doubted her abilities as a fighter.
Mox looked older, which Esra deduced from his long horns and the dotting of silver hair that peppered his body. Although Shova seemed simultaneously as fierce as she was jovial, he seemed more stern and less talkative than the others, as he hardly acknowledged their introduction except with a terse nod of his head. But after getting used to Baelin’s quietness, this did not overly disturb Esra.
By the time they had finished loading up the Horses it was dinner time, so the group ate a quick meal of flatbread and dried Vernok before mounting their Steeds. Zakai and the others bid farewell to their families as they turned towards the darkness of Fira Nadim. It surprised her to see that the Unni-se had three children and a beautiful wife, Kinci, although exactly what made her beautiful, Esra was unsure. Only a short day ago she could not imagine thinking any Unni was more or less attractive than another.
It was much quicker riding out of the forest than it was walking into it, and after only an hour they were back into the sparse, flat fields north of Fira Nadim. Without the massive Trees to wind around, their pace intensified and they rode hard through the night, stopping only once for a short rest.
It looked as if they would maintain the same pattern of traveling at night and hiding for sleep during the day. Esra had grown accustomed to the strange hours and found that the night air indeed made for more pleasant traveling than the burning Sun. She also found that she was now able to doze lazily on Roja’s gently rocking back. Over the next few days the flat terrain would become rocky, rolling hills and Esra found herself chatting comfortably with Hadvi and Shova while Mox sat quietly beside them.
“So Hadvi, do ye have a family?” Esra asked.
“I just had me first daughter with me new wife,” he beamed proudly. “I’m young, only eighty. Although by yer standards I’m already a dead man. Heh.”
“That’s true. Congratulations! I’m sorry ye have to be away from them now.”
“Aye, me too. But I’ve dedicated myself te training young warriors in the hopes that one day I may be called upon te protect my people.”
“A noble calling. What weapon do ye use?”
“Twin axes, but only when absolutely necessary. I prefer the use of me horns, which is considered one of the most difficult and highly respected battle skills of the Unni.”
“Bumbling Huckfly. I certainly wouldn’t want to get skewered by ye.”
“I promise not te try,” Hadvi chuckled.
“Shova, do ye have any children?” Esra turned towards the woman warrior.
“Aye, seven young boys. I grew up with all brothers and alas, now I’m surrounded by men again. Before I left I convinced em that if they didn’t listen to their father while I’m gone their horns would fall off. Ha! All them rowdy boys, it’s one of the reasons I’m so patient, I suppose, in training the warriors in Shadow Glenn. Have done that fer almost all my life. I love it, getting the young ones te find themselves, their strength. It’s very rewarding”
“Soon ye’ll be training my daughter,” Hadvi added.
“Ye jes can’t wait, eh,” Shova chuckled. “I’ve hear ye’ve already commissioned a tiny axe fer Pixa at the blacksmith.”
“Aye, te the frustration of my wife. She’ll be pleased when Pixa becomes a warrior, but it’s a bit too soon fer her, I think. We hope that someday she’ll be as great a leader as ye, Shova.”
“I’m sure she will be, if I ‘ave any hand in it.”
“What’s yer weapon of choice?” Nadia asked interestedly.
“The war hammer. Normally considered more of a man’s weapon, which is why I chose it,” she added with a wink. “Never could stand being told I shouldn’t do somethin’.”
Esra noticed that she had almost as many notches in her horns as Mox, who was the most seasoned veteran. “What about Mox? He seems to be a quiet one.”
“Aye, he’s always been reserved, but much more so as of late,” Shova explained. “He lost his wife and only child some years ago when they were killed by Valkor scouts. He’d never admit it, but he respects the fact that a young Human woman with little training could kill one in a duel. I daresay he might not ‘ave agreed to come if it wasn’t fer yer boldness. A crying shame, it was, when his family died.”
“That’s terrible,” Esra said sadly. She looked over Mox who sat whittling a small piece of wood with a furrowed brow. “What does he fight with?”
“A mace. Don’t let his age fool ye, he’s still bloody good with it.”
Zakai continued to say little and avoided most of the others, preferring to sit in solitary meditation by the Fire for the first two nights. Hadvi and Shova would join in the Assembly’s conversations with proud tales of the Unni people and funny stories of their families. Esra’s shoulder throbbed with a hot pain as she laughed at Shova’s tales about her seven sons.
“Ruka, my second youngest, jes got his head stuck in a bucket trying te lick sugar from the bottom. Left ‘em in there, I did. Cut two holes where his eyes were and made em walk around like that fer a whole day as punishment.”
Even Mox grunted with approval as Hadvi told a short tale of the great chiefs that had come before Zakai. Esra slowly grew more comfortable around the Unni, finding that their piercing yellow eyes were more inquisitive than aggressive, and their horns more intimidating for other foes than dangerous to her. Bu she silently worried that the Unni-se was not open to the War Council after all, and maybe he would avoid the others for the duration of the journey. She wished that he would at least try to talk with his nephew Baelin. On the third night, her worries were slightly relieved as the Unni-se approached Esra an hour before they were ready to depart.
“Esra, soon te be Keeper, I would like te assist in yer training, if ye would like.”
Startled, she looked up at Zakai and gave him an open mouthed nod.
“That would be wonderful,” she said earnestly, curious at his sudden interest in helping her.
He walked Esra over to a small board he had laid out on a blanket, which looked hauntingly similar to the strategy practice boards and stones in the War Room at the Stronghold. Although she had not yet had a proper lesson in strategy at The Gardens, this board looked significantly more complex, with many new markings and stones. As they sat down, Zakai made no move to describe the board to her.
“Why did ye decide te become a Keeper?”
Esra sat for a moment as she contemplated his question, wanting to answer it as truthfully as possible. “Because I want freedom fer myself and fer all the people of LeVara. And because I believe in the Keepers and what they are doing, how they live their lives. Before I came here, Baelin showed me the Five Laws of Keepers, and I greatly respect these guidelines.”
“But why not fight with yer Human King?”
“King Keridon is not the most…dedicated… ruler, and he is ill prepared fer war. The Keepers are ready and willing to lead a fight against Tallen. And besides, a King is still a King and is in command of his people. The Stronghold requires nothing of its members except commitment to their quest fer the freedom and happiness of all creatures. Most rulers of LeVara have not been unjust, but they are still the sovereign and law of the Kingdom, and we must do their bidding in the end. I am not suggesting that LeVara doesn’t need a King or that I don’t want one, I just never knew there were any other options. I have lived this way all my life, as have the generations before me. Now that our freedom is in question I realize what it truly means to have it.”
Zakai nodded, apparently satisfied with her answer, and began to explain the basics of the board and its various pieces. Three people or an army, high ground or low, full Sun or dark of night, there were endless scenarios to cover. Almost every other sentence she had to stop him with a question as if he were speaking a foreign lan
guage. She recalled her lesson with Cane when he told her that Zakai was a strategist like no other. She fully believed that now. He seemed not only to be a mastermind in war preparations but knew exactly how to adapt to the many different situations that a battle could morph into. Esra could hardly do anything but gape open-mouthed at his instruction and occasionally sputter out an incredulous question.
On their journey the Unni-se would continue this lesson at each break, taking out the board for a short time to give her something that she could think about during her ride, a battlefield riddle to solve. She was not sure if Zakai had simply gotten bored or was sincerely interested in her training, but she was grateful for the help either way. He seemed not only to be a mastermind in war preparations but knew exactly how to adapt to the many different situations that a battle could morph into. And since she could not physically fight as her shoulder healed, this was the next best thing.
Esra’s Assembly eventually began to practice their defensive and offensive maneuvers, intending to brush up on their battle skills as well as help pass the time with some friendly rivalry. The two races seemed eager to assert themselves as the master of their craft. For one lesson Shova stepped in showed them how to use a war hammer. Esra could hardly hold the heavy thing as her one shoulder still hung painfully in a sling and the other was weak from fatigue. She had been having trouble sleeping since leaving the forest and her dead foe behind. But she watched the sparring and studied the way the weapon was used and how to better defend against it.
The Unni marveled at the craftsmanship of the weapons Baelin had made and especially liked the creativity of his staff with the unbreakable Knife of Piercing and spiked ball at opposite ends. They looked impressed when he told them about the Hammer of the Shendari at his shop in the Stronghold, the only blacksmithing tool capable of forging Shendari scales.
Esra even got to hold Arland’s Greatsword of Narajuv, but she knew from the moment it touched her hands that it was not meant for her. It was an instinct similar to riding the same Horse for years and suddenly trying an entirely differently shaped saddle. But it was more than that, almost as if the sword had an aversion to her. She was awkward, more awkward than usual, and could not seem to wield the sword hardly at all.
“Don’ worry,” Arland assured her. “The sword was intended fer only one warrior, who will enjoy greatly improved skills. Anyone else who tries to use it will have the opposite effect.”
“There is much more te all of ye than meets the eye,” Shova acknowledged with respect.
They were almost halfway through their journey to the Jade Gardens when Nadia stopped her Horse mid-stride and cocked her head to one side. Esra and the others halted immediately, craning their necks to look at the Elf woman, who appeared to be deep in thought.
“Err…is everything alright?” Esra finally asked, breaking the silence.
“Elites,” Nadia spat with vehemence, rocking to take the Stone of Awareness out of her left side pocket.
“How many? How far away?” Baelin asked quickly.
She held the small grey stone in her hand and rubbed it gently between her fingers, closing her eyes. “Maybe a day ahead and heading towards us from the North. There are many of them. Dozens upon dozens, I think.”
“Fynn, can ye talk te Meshok?” Baelin turned towards the archer, who sat with alertness atop My Lady. “She should be traveling ahead of us. Find out the details, we need te know exactly what’s coming.”
Fynn too fumbled briefly to find his Listening Stone and held it between his palms. Esra felt slightly paralyzed with panic as she waited for her friend to reply.
“She’s far ahead of us, as usual. She says that she can continue forward and scout the area a bit, let us know more when she can.”
“Alright,” Zakai nodded. “We should wait here until then, get a few bites te eat and take some rest, make preparations. We don’t need te meet with them any sooner than we have te.”
The group dismounted as Fynn communicated their plan to Meshok. Esra pictured the Great Wolf running at full speed towards the north, her grey flanks shining with sweat. Fynn began to pace back and forth, clutching the stone in a tight fist. My Lady whinnied nervously, nuzzling towards her disturbed rider. Suddenly Fynn made a turn and came straight at Esra, with a determined look on his face.
“It’s time te heal yer shoulder,” he continued before Esra could open her mouth to protest. “I know that ye have dealt with the pain the last few days, and it has been admirable. But we are about te meet with some nasty fighting, and ye need te be at yer best fer everyone’s sake. We will need every ounce of skill at our disposal.”
He stepped forward and placed both hands on her shoulder, murmuring a low incantation. Esra’s shoulder suddenly filled with light, and she opened her mouth to scream in agony when the sensation subsided, leaving her breathless. Fynn removed his hands and untied the sling. She stretched tentatively at first, cautious that the prior days pains would come rippling back through her muscles. When nothing happened, she luxuriously rolled her shoulder through its full range of motion.
“Thank ye,” Esra said sincerely. “Someday, ye’ll have to tell me how ye did that.”
“Someday, aye,” Fynn agreed. “Yer lessons have been more random and unpredictable than an injured Brengard surrounded by a hunting party, but I promise that one day we will explain the concept of magick te ye.”
Esra thanked him again before walking over to Roja and grudgingly pulling out her sword. Unnerved by the prospect of battle and not quite ready to eat, she wanted to attempt some quick sparring practice, do something besides sit around and wait. She looked at the pearlescent blade and turned it over in her hands. Baelin had secretly cleaned it for her after she killed the Valkor, and she was grateful for it. He probably knew that she didn’t want to see the blood on her sword, evidence of the life taken.
The next hour was full of nervous anticipation as everyone waited in stunned silence. Fynn made no attempts to sing or make jokes, even Shova was not quite as jovial. Esra swung her blade around in the slow, practiced movements of her lessons, attempting to reacquaint herself to the motions of battle. Her shoulder didn’t give her a hint of pain, although it was somewhat stiff from lack of use. It seemed like a full day would go by before they would hear anything. Esra wasn’t sure she wanted to know the truth about what was coming, but not knowing seemed even worse.
“I’ve got some bad news,” the archer finally gathered everyone together. “The Elites are almost upon us. They are burning small villages as they go. Meshok tells me that they will meet with us in less than a day.”
“How many?” Zakai asked.
“About a hundred, and all on Horseback.”
“A hundred! That’s greater than ten times our numbers. And they’re all trained sorcerers and warriors,” Esra said bitterly.
“They’re burning villages?” Nadia asked.
“Meshok says that they’re slaughtering everything in their path, including women and children.”
“They should still be at Kiran Brae,” Esra wondered aloud. “Why are they already east of The Naduri River and moving south? Are they headed fer Hals Arün already?”
“No, a hundred Elites could never capture a great city. They probably have special orders te ambush us as we come back from Fira Nadim. Somehow they guessed at our plan te recruit the Unni-se and aim te catch us on our return.”
“We should ride up and meet them,” Hadvi growled. “Give them a little surprise ambush of our own.”
“No,” Zakai said forcefully, turning to Fynn. “Where’s the next village?”
He quickly summoned the Tur on his arm, glancing over the map. “There are a number of very small villages that we’ll be passing in the next couple days. But a town called Wilspry which houses a few hundred people is a half day ride northwest. My guess is that the Elites will be heading there. Plenty of people te kill and houses te rob. They will be able te restock their food and supplies.”
“We should ride up and meet them.”
“No, we should try and warn the town.”
“Maybe we can get them out and hide them.”
“We’ll never have enough time, we need te fight.”
“If we stay here we’ll have more time to prepare.”
Zakai silently twisted his long, braided beard as the rest of the group argued back and forth. Holding up his hand, everyone looked to him in silence.
“We ride hard and reach Wilspry by morning. This will hopefully give us time te warn the townspeople about the attacks. We will then have a few hours te set some traps and make other preparations, perhaps barricade a part of the town. Out of a few hundred townspeople there have te be some that can fight, so any that are willing and able should join us. With any luck our traps will take care of half of the soldiers and we can take care of the rest. I daresay the Elites won’t expect us rallying a town.”
Everyone nodded in agreement and quickly mounted their Horses, not wanting to waste any time. Esra thought again of her friends and family back in Sorley and hoped that they were safe. This could be my village, my grandparents. The suggestion of it made Esra shake with anger. How could someone just kill for the joy of it? Because they believed that the people they were murdering weren’t worth anything? It disgusted her, disgusted everyone around her. She could see the fury on their faces. They were going to fight. They were going to defend Wilspry and kill every Elite that dare cross its border. They were going to fight.
XXXI
With Fynn as their guide they made it to Wilspry as the orange light was barely peeking over the horizon. The sight of the small town made Esra wince in homesickness and she touched the bread beater tucked in Roja’s sidesaddle.
“Good people of Wilspry, we bring news of a danger that comes to yer town!” Arland cried loudly as they rode past the farms and small houses. “Awake from yer sleep, leave yer plows in the fields. Come meet with us at the town center!”
Women and children came onto their porches to see who was making such a fuss, and the men raced towards their families with the threat of danger ringing in their ears. When the people of Wilspry saw that it was not just a man who had called to them but a group of Humans, dark skinned Elves and large hairy Beasts upon larger Horses, they thought it a dream. But it could not be a dream, for there was their neighbor and his Dog, and there was old man Jaspar. So they followed each other, whispering and wondering what these strangers meant by such a peculiar, dramatic entrance.