by Lana Axe
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, his tone mocking.
“I’m serious,” she replied hotly, looking down at her brother. “You men aren’t the only ones who can fight. You’re just the only ones who can fight and hide at the same time. You can send them running and we’ll be there to stop them.”
Reylin paused for a moment and thought. “That’s actually a good idea, Sis,” he said. “We can attack one of their farming villages from the tree line and you and your girls can be waiting on the other side. Nothing sends a message to your enemy like slaughtering a village full of fleeing cowards.”
“It’s no less than they’ve done to us. Entire clans have been wiped out. Every week new elves are finding their way here to join up with us. There are no clans now within a day’s walk of Na’zora.”
“If we can manage to win this war there won’t be a Na’zora. I’d like to see that king’s head mounted above my hut.” Reylin’s tone was serious. He hated the Na’zorans as well as all other humans. They were responsible for the death of his parents along with countless other elves. His kinsmen were constantly being pushed deeper into the Wildlands and away from their traditional homes. The humans did not care whether they were able to adapt. They would prefer if all elves were wiped out permanently.
“I’ll gather some of the women so we can start planning,” Reylana said before hurrying away. She glanced back at her brother, who had gone over to speak with his troops. He was a hothead for sure, but she knew his actions were carried out with the best intent. He had only gone to Enald to frighten its citizens and let them know that the elves of the woods would fight back to protect their homes. They were sick of being bullied by Na’zora’s king, and they would do whatever was necessary to defend their right to exist.
Seated on a log bench at the center of town was Essa, the leader of the Oak Leaf Clan’s sword maidens. “Essa,” Reylana called as she spotted the dark-haired elf. “I need to talk with you.”
Essa had been busy polishing the blade of her broadsword when Reylana approached. She put the blade away and eyed her cautiously. “What are you up to?” she asked suspiciously.
Reylana laughed and said, “You know me. When have I ever been up to anything bad? Come with me. We’re going to discuss plans to attack one of the human farming villages.”
Essa joined her friend as they walked back to Reylin’s small hut. Several men were already inside, noisily sharing their ideas.
“Ok, everybody shut up,” Reylin said loudly as his sister entered. “Let’s see what the ladies have to say.”
“Nothing much, really,” Reylana began. “Essa leads the sword maidens for our clan, so I’ll let her do the talking.”
“First of all,” Essa said, “I want to know what village and when. Secondly, I want to know why you went out today without consulting me? We’d have been happy to come along and chop a few heads.”
“It was just a small scare tactic, Essa,” Reylin said, rolling his hazel eyes. “Don’t act so left out. You’re as bad as my sister. Sometimes you should just let the men handle it.”
“You can handle it all you want,” Essa remarked. “But when it comes to fighting, you should let the women take charge. We know attack plans better than those who hide in the trees. We’re at the front of the line. You men are just our backup.”
Men began shouting and arguing at her words. They were offended by her comment, and they wanted to let her know it. Wild Elf men generally stand a head shorter than the women, allowing them greater stealth when moving through the trees. Neither sex, however, is any less fierce than the other.
“Quiet!” Reylin shouted. “She’s just trying to get under our skin. She’s ticked that we didn’t let Her Majesty come with us. We’re big boys, Essa. We do what we want. Next time, we’ll work together, ok?”
Essa nodded and took a seat at the small dining table at the back of the room. Reylin and Reylana both sat as well. A small hand-drawn map of the area was laid out on the table. From this map, they would determine which village had the best layout for them to attack with stealth. The women would need to be concealed until the men could force the villagers in their direction. Then, when there was no chance of escape, the women would attack. No one would be left alive. Domren’s men had been ruthless in their attacks on the elves. No elf had been spared for any reason, and the elves were most willing to retaliate in the same fashion. The time for small skirmishes was coming to an end. A war was about to begin.
Chapter 3
King Domren shifted anxiously on his horse as he peered deep into the woods. “Do you think Aelryk’s men are in position?” he asked.
“Until Mi’tal makes his way here, we have no way of knowing,” General Luca replied. His gray eyes were stern, his passion for battle ever-present on his face.
“He should have been here by now. I don’t like waiting.” The king let out a heavy sigh and clenched his teeth. His dark eyes focused into the trees, hoping to catch any sign of movement. Wild Elves are masters of stealth within the forests, and he wondered if he was already being watched.
From behind, he heard a horse approaching. He turned his head to see Mi’tal coming up from the rear of his company. The young, black-haired man hurried past the soldiers and went straight to the king.
“Majesty,” he said, “Aelryk and his men are in position and are awaiting your lead.”
“Finally,” the king said. He raised an arm and motioned his troops to follow. Drawing their weapons, they charged into the thick forest. The Silver Birch Clan was about to experience the king’s wrath.
As they entered the village, they showed no signs of slowing. The surprised elves were sent fleeing in all directions. Many were trampled by the horses and several others were cut down as they ran. Women and children were not spared, nor were elderly clansmen who could not possibly offer a fight. The warriors rushed to their huts to retrieve their weapons. They had been given no sign their village would be attacked, and they had not been prepared for battle.
Mages at the rear of the company began firing off spells. Most of them cast fireballs at the huts, while others fired energy blasts to knock the fleeing elves off balance. Those who managed to get to a weapon were quickly dispatched by the energy blasts, dropping their weapons as they fell. The elves who did not find their feet quickly were trampled by the horses as they charged. Within minutes, the first village lay in ruins.
Domren’s troops rode on toward the second village. It was larger, but with Aelryk’s company charging from the opposite end, there was little chance of encountering any significant resistance. The elves had been alerted by the cries coming from the neighboring village, but that had also signaled Aelryk to begin the attack. He was young and had little experience in battle, but he was obedient and very capable of following the orders his father had given him.
Arrows whizzed from the highest branches, shot by the few elves who had managed to make it to the trees. Their swordswomen dodged the horses as they charged past at full speed. Foot soldiers were no match for mounted cavalry. Many of them began to run into the woods as well. Domren smiled to himself to see the bravest among the elves fleeing. He hoped to continue the attacks until every Wild Elf was driven to the far side of the Blue River or killed. He did not care whether they had to be annihilated or left willingly. His mission was to expand his kingdom, and the elves were in his way.
The mages began setting fire to the huts in this village as well. They tossed their fireballs casually and sipped at their potions as if they hadn’t a care in the world. Human mages do not regenerate their power naturally. Instead, they rely on a steady supply of potions to continue being useful in combat. The mages enjoyed testing their prowess in battle, as they normally sat around discussing magical theory and practicing little tricks to amuse the nobles. Today, they were proving their worth to their king, and they were making it look like child’s play.
Once the second village lay in ruins, Aelryk came riding up to his father. The two men were
similar in appearance, both with dark hair and eyes. Aelryk, however, stood half a foot taller and had a far more pleasing countenance than his father.
“Good morning, Father,” he said. “It seems everything has gone to plan.”
“It has,” Domren replied. “You have done well for your first true battle. Gather your men and we’ll head back to the palace.”
Aelryk did as he was commanded, and the company set off eastward, leaving the smoking villages behind them. Mi’tal rode next to Aelryk at the front of the company. Before his death, Mi’tal’s father had been charged with the personal safety of King Domren. Mi’tal had taken it upon himself to act as a protector for the young prince. He could be impulsive at times, and Mi’tal had always been there to pull the prince back in his anger. Usually it was just a petty argument over some minor insult. Today, however, marked a new chapter in the prince’s future. He would be riding into battle regularly, and Mi’tal planned to be there to protect him, even if it cost him his life.
“Well done today, my lord,” Mi’tal said, his brown eyes sincere.
Aelryk nodded. “Father had everything set up very well. I would have been an idiot to mess it up. Nonetheless, I thank you for the compliment.” Aelryk grinned at his friend, and the two of them laughed.
“Soon you will be planning your own strategies,” Mi’tal commented. “You will make a fine war leader. Your men love you, and they will fight for you no matter the cost.”
Aelryk considered the notion for a moment. He was young, but he wanted to be fair with his troops and gain their respect. His father ruled using fear, and everyone jumped at his command. He wasn’t sure if that was the kind of commander he wanted to be.
Normally, his father would bark commands at him without expressing any gratitude once his wish had been fulfilled. Aelryk believed in discipline, of course, but his father’s manner was a little rougher than his own. It was not in his nature to be cruel. He preferred to treat others with the respect they had earned, and if someone needed to be punished, it should be done with fairness. Justice was not in his father’s vocabulary. Trials were held for show when a noble was accused. Anyone else could only hope for a swift, painless execution. Most were not that lucky.
When it came to the elves, King Domren was unwavering. He wanted them either exterminated or moved as far away as possible. Aelryk had not yet mentioned his thoughts on diplomacy to his father, but he hoped to have the opportunity soon. Today’s show of strength should convince the elves to accept the king’s terms. If he could convince his father to let him speak with the elven leaders, perhaps more battles could be avoided. The elves would certainly wish to retaliate, and Aelryk did not like the idea of his citizens being slaughtered. He was determined to bring the idea to his father as soon as he found the opportunity-and the courage as well.
Chapter 4
Yori sat down to dinner with his family. His leg still throbbed, but the wound had not reopened. His aunt placed a steaming bowl of stew in front of him along with a slice of freshly baked bread. Yori was convinced there was no better cook alive than his aunt. His mother had been a terrible cook. Her bread was always hard and flat, and she never made a dish she didn’t burn. Despite the cooking, he had loved her dearly. She was warm and loving and always made him feel special.
“Is that sword in one piece yet?” Ren asked.
“Yes,” Yori replied with a mouthful of food. Swallowing, he added, “It’s ready for your inspection.”
“Good,” Ren replied. “I told the lieutenant I’d deliver it in the next couple of weeks. I wouldn’t want to break my promise.”
They finished their meal in silence, and Yori helped stack the dishes to be washed.
“That’s fine, dear,” Trella said. “You go and rest. I’ll see to the dishes.”
Yori nodded and walked to the pile of blankets that had been laid out on the floor for his bed. It wasn’t as comfortable as his cot, but he felt safer sleeping indoors tonight. As soon as he sat down, Meladee popped up out of her bed and ran to him. She plopped herself next to him and leaned against his side.
“Tell me a story, please?” Her soft brown eyes pleaded with him, and he could not refuse.
“Ok, but just one,” he replied. “Let’s see.” He paused for a moment and then continued. “There once lived a gnome named Jack. He was the most clever gnome that ever lived. One day a giant threatened to stomp Jack’s little village into dust.”
Meladee gasped as she pictured the tiny gnomes being crushed beneath a gigantic foot.
“Don’t you worry,” he continued. “Little Jack knew just what to do. ‘Hey you giant!’ he shouted. ‘You’ve got those big feet but no shoes! You can squash us better with the fine pair of boots I saw.’ The giant wasn’t very smart, of course, so he followed Jack to see this fine pair of boots. Jack led him to a crevice between two huge boulders that was just wide enough to fit the giant’s foot inside it. ‘Right here!’ the little gnome cried. The giant scratched his head and said, ‘Don’t see nothin’ but no rocks.’ And his big face was all contorted and confused like this,” Yori said, miming the action to the delight of the little girl.
“Well, clever little Jack had an idea. ‘Stick your foot just there, and the magical rock boots will go right on your feet.’ Giants aren’t very smart, so he did as the little gnome said. Wouldn’t you know it, the giant’s foot stuck fast in the rock, and he pulled with all his might but couldn’t break free. Little Jack laughed and returned to his village. The other gnomes cheered and thanked Jack for saving their lives. They threw a big party and named him the new mayor.”
Meladee applauded at the end of the story. “Another!” she cried.
“Your mother is going to be very angry if I keep you up too late. Off to bed now,” he said, patting the child on her head.
“Ok,” she said, disappointed. Slowly, she got up and went back to her bed. Pulling the covers up to her chin, she grinned at her cousin. He smiled and waved goodnight before lying down himself.
The next morning he rose before the rest of the family and slowly made his way to the smithy. Outside the entrance, someone had dumped a pile of horse manure. A gift from my wealthy friend, no doubt, Yori thought, remembering the man who had accused him of conspiring with the elves.
He proceeded through the door to light the furnace. Nothing inside the shop appeared to have been disturbed, so he went about his work as usual. He used the coal shovel to clean up the mess out front and carried it over to the woods to dump it. He thought he heard voices coming from the treetops, and he hurried back to the shop. If there were elves in those trees, he didn’t want to be seen anywhere near them. He hoped they were only there to have a look at the town and nothing more. He feared how the citizens might treat him if a second attack took place.
When Ren finally arrived at the shop, Yori placed the finished sword in front of him. It was the finest work he had ever done, and he was quite proud of it. It was rare for him to work on any sword, let alone one crafted for a nobleman. It was more a showpiece than a weapon for the man who would be receiving it. Staining such a beautiful item with blood would be a shame.
“This is very good, Yori,” Ren said as he turned the sword over in his hands. “I’m sure our customer will be pleased.” After a moment, he added, “You can take it to him at the palace.”
“Me?” Yori said, stunned.
“Yes, you. It couldn’t hurt to have you away from town for a few days.”
“I’ve never been there before. I don’t even know where it is.” Yori did not like the idea of travel, especially alone. He had never been anywhere but Enald, and he had no desire to leave.
“I’ll give you directions. If the weather is good, it will only take you a couple of days to walk there.” Ren looked at Yori, who was obviously still unsettled by the idea. “Look,” he began. “It won’t be that bad. The palace district is very large and full of lots of different people. Just hide your ears like you always do, and no one will notice the dif
ference. If no one there knows about your parentage, you won’t be treated any differently. You’re tall enough that no one will suspect a thing.”
Ren made a valid point. Except for Yori’s ears, no part of him appeared elfish. Perhaps in the palace district he would be treated like an average human. The thought gave him a small amount of courage, and he nodded his acceptance. Though he was still unsure about traveling, he would try to make the best of it.
“When will I leave?” he asked.
“You can head out tomorrow,” Ren replied. “Maybe I’ll get a bonus for finishing early.”
Yori nodded and carried on performing his chores for the day. He would need to have the sword polished and glowing before he wrapped it up for travel. The thought of carrying back coin did not sit well with him. He hoped the roads were safe for travelers and tried to remember any recent rumors of crime or bandits. Nothing recent came to mind, and he was grateful for it. With a great amount of effort, he pushed the following day’s task from his mind and focused on the work before him. He couldn’t bear to think about the look in Meladee’s eyes when he would tell her he was leaving. The poor little girl would probably be devastated. For now, he would focus on his work and forget about the day ahead.
Chapter 5
The elf woman staggered blindly through the forest. She hoped she had chosen the right direction, but the severe throbbing in her head and blood running into her eyes had muddled her mind. Her strength was failing, and she did not know if she would reach her kinsmen before collapsing. As if by some miracle, an elven village came into view.
“Help me, please!” she cried with all her strength. Despite her best efforts, her voice sounded no louder than a whisper. Finally someone spotted her, called to the others who were close at hand, and ran in her direction. The red-haired elf caught her just before she hit the ground.