War Of The Wildlands

by Lana Axe

  “Not too many,” he replied. “Though, we have seen some battle. You’ve missed out.”

  “I wouldn’t have been much use with a busted shoulder, but it’s healed now.”

  “We’ve gained a few friends,” he said with a grin.

  As the army of elves came into view, Reylana’s mouth dropped open.

  “I’ve got about twelve hundred friends here,” Reylin said. “How many did you bring again?” He chuckled and looked back over his shoulder at the Sycamore warriors. “Only about four or five hundred, I’m guessing. Looks like I win.”

  “I didn’t know it was a contest,” she replied, still staring at the army. Never before had she seen such a gathering of elves. The elves of the Wildlands usually kept to their own clans and had no need for each other. It amazed her to see so many come together.

  “I’m still hoping some clans across the river will join us. We haven’t heard anything from them yet.”

  “I couldn’t convince the rune carver,” Reylana said, the disappointment clear in her voice.

  “No worries,” he replied with a smile. “I’ve found one of those myself. The Mountain Clan has a rune carver, and he’s been very busy.” He held his head high with pride but couldn’t stop himself from laughing.

  Shaking her head, Reylana said, “It’s good to see you again, Reylin.” She wrapped both arms around him and squeezed him tightly.

  Chapter 37

  In the thick forest, Mi’tal felt much colder than he had riding through Na’zora. He was grateful for the generous helping of ground pepper he had picked up in Duana’s marketplace. After sprinkling it inside his boots, he found his feet were much warmer.

  The white banner with blue trim mounted to the back of his saddle floated lazily on the cold breeze. He could only hope the elves would recognize it as a symbol of peace when he encountered them in the Wildlands. Without knowing where the elves might be hiding, he took little comfort in the banner’s presence. Having the chance to speak before he was shot would be more helpful than the banner, but their archers were difficult to spot, even in the bare trees of winter.

  High above in the trees, Sal watched intently as a single horse and rider approached. The man was still a good distance away, but he was clearly heading in Sal’s direction. A white banner streamed behind the rider, and he recognized it as a banner of peace. A single rider alone posed little threat, but he could be a distraction from the army that might be following him.

  Sal climbed hurriedly down the tree and raced back to camp. He spotted Reylana first and asked, “Where is Reylin?”

  “He’s scouting the southern edge of camp. Why?”

  “There’s a rider approaching,” he replied.

  “We better tell Essa,” she said, searching the camp with her eyes. Spotting Essa with a group of sword maidens, she sprinted to her side followed closely by Sal.

  “This had better be important,” Essa said, glaring at Sal.

  “It is, he replied. There’s a rider approaching the camp.”

  “Is he a scout?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” Sal answered, smoothing down his silver hair. “He’s alone and carries a white banner. Perhaps he has come to speak with us.”

  “Or he’s a spy,” Reylana offered. “He may be attempting to locate our camp so he can return with an army. I don’t think we should trust him.”

  Essa weighed Reylana’s opinion heavily. She was a trusted ally and quite skilled in battle. Her brother Reylin, however, was quick to distrust all humans, and he had probably influenced Reylana to the same way of thinking.

  “If this man is alone, I will listen to what he has to say. If there is any hint he is spying for an army, I will kill him.”

  Reylana started to argue, but a stern glance from Essa’s dark eyes stopped her.

  “Should I escort him into the camp?” Sal asked.

  “Yes, but don’t talk to him except to tell him you will bring him here. I don’t want him getting away with any information.”

  With a nod, Sal turned and ran back to his post. The rider was much closer now, and Sal began to approach cautiously. He was close enough to see that the man was armed, so he readied his bow just in case. Knocking an arrow to the string, he called out to the rider. “Halt! Who are you, and what do you want?”

  Mi’tal immediately stopped his horse and raised both hands in the air. Looking around, he failed to see the person who was speaking, but he was grateful to have been spoken to rather than shot. “I am Mi’tal of Na’zora, servant to Prince Aelryk. I come with a message of peace.”

  Sal emerged from his hiding place in the thick forest, his bow still at the ready. “I will lead you to my camp.”

  Mi’tal slowly dismounted his horse and took the reins in his hand. Never before had he seen a Wild Elf quite like Sal. He wanted to ask where he was from but thought better of it. With an arrow still pointed at his heart, he didn’t want to risk upsetting the elf.

  Sal lowered his bow and drew a dagger. He kept both eyes on Mi’tal and only glanced at the path ahead to be sure he was going the right direction. This man knew the camp was near, and if he decided to run, Sal would have to kill him. He would not fail Essa.

  As they entered the camp, Essa strode over to meet Mi’tal. Being among the tallest of Wild Elf women, she stood equal to him in height. “Take his weapon,” she commanded. “Bind his hands as well. He doesn’t need them for speaking.”

  Reylana grabbed the hammer and laid it next to a tree. Sal sheathed his dagger and bound Mi’tal’s hands with a thin strap of leather. Both of them remained close at hand in case Essa required their assistance.

  “Why have you come here?” Essa asked.

  “I have come on a mission from Prince Aelryk,” Mi’tal replied. “He has sent me to negotiate peace with your clan.”

  “There are many clans here, not just my own,” Essa stated proudly.

  Reylana stepped forward, her hazel eyes fierce. “The prince led the raid on the Sycamore Clan. He forced them across the river and threatened them if they did not comply.” She looked at Mi’tal and spat on the ground. “He doesn’t want peace. He wants obedience.”

  “King Domren commanded that raid,” Mi’tal replied. “The prince had no choice in the matter. He spared your lives and moved your people to safety.”

  “What if they had refused?” Reylana shouted back. “Would he have killed them?”

  “He would have spared whoever he could,” Mi’tal responded.

  “Silence!” Essa shouted. “I have heard what happened with the Sycamore Clan, and I have not decided about this prince of yours. He may be honest, and he may be laying a trap. Is there an army with you?”

  “No, my lady,” Mi’tal replied, not knowing how to address the elf. “The king and his armies have no idea I’ve come. The prince himself has sent me.”

  “You are brave to come here alone,” Essa said. “You were very lucky not to be shot on sight.” She looked over at Sal with a curious expression. “Some of our kinsmen are not as hostile as others, it seems.” Essa was a dedicated warrior, and she understood why Sal had stayed his hand. He had returned to his commanders for their decision before acting. She had no doubt that he would have killed Mi’tal had she ordered it.

  “There will be trouble when Reylin returns,” Reylana said coolly. Her brother was not going to like having a Na’zoran in his camp.

  “Reylin is not our leader,” Essa said. “There are other clans among us now, and they should have a say in any peace talks. Reylin will never talk peace. He sees only war.”

  “Reylin has done everything he can for our clan, and he is the only leader we’ve had for months.” Reylana could feel the redness rising in her ears as she defended her brother. He and Essa did not get along well and had been competing for leadership since the Overseer was killed. Essa led the sword maidens, who were staunchly loyal to her, but many of the archers preferred Reylin to make the decisions. The two so far had managed to get along, but a
rift could easily form should they find themselves unable to compromise.

  “I don’t doubt his loyalty or his skill in battle,” Essa said in an unusually soft tone. “Reylana, you must realize that your brother’s behavior is unpredictable. He is not the right person to negotiate peace. I doubt he will ever stop fighting, even if a treaty were signed.”

  Reylana stared at Essa and did not respond. She knew Essa was right. Reylin’s temper was uncontrollable, and his heart only lusted for revenge. If there was a chance for peace, Essa would be better suited to the task. She was a fair and honest warrior, and she loved her clansmen deeply.

  “Tell me what this prince has to say,” Essa said, turning back to Mi’tal.

  “The prince wants an end to the fighting. His father is determined to take all of the land east of the river, and someday he will also try to take the land to the west as well. Your people will be annihilated if King Domren has his way. You can help avoid this by ceasing to raid villages full of innocent citizens and helping us to find Princess Lisalla, who has disappeared en route to Na’zora.”

  “Your princess is here with us,” Essa said. “She has not been harmed.”

  Mi’tal’s face reflected his surprise. “She is Prince Aelryk’s betrothed, and he will give anything to have her returned safely.”

  “How will he convince his father to stop fighting?” Essa asked.

  “If you stop the raids and return the princess, it will be a show of good faith. The prince can prove to his father that you’re ready to negotiate, and the talks can begin.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question,” she replied. “King Domren is in charge of the armies, not the prince. You said yourself the king forced the prince to attack the Sycamores.”

  “The prince did not harm a single member of the Sycamore Clan. He convinced them to move where it is safe. His father would be livid if he knew.” Mi’tal was grasping for words. In truth, he had no idea how the prince planned to stop his father from fighting.

  “I think this peace will have to wait until Domren is dead,” Essa commented.

  Knowing there was no Na’zoran around to hear his treasonous words, Mi’tal declared, “I would kill this king if I had a chance. I swear it. Prince Aelryk is the rightful king of Na’zora.” His words hung heavily in the air.

  Essa stared into his dark eyes for a moment. “I believe you,” she said.

  Reylana shook her head. “Essa,” she said.

  Essa held up a hand to silence her. “Even to an enemy, Reylana, would you declare that you despise your Overseer and would kill him?”

  “If I had a problem with my Overseer, I would take it up with him personally. I wouldn’t sneak away to talk about it with others.”

  “Half of the Sycamore Clan believed this prince to be honorable. That is why they followed his command. You told me so yourself,” Essa pointed out.

  “The prince is an honorable man,” Mi’tal declared. “He is the opposite of his father. Once he assumes the throne, you will have peace. He has sworn this to me, and I have risked my life to bring you the message.”

  Essa thought for a moment and said, “Go back to your prince and tell him that once Domren is dead, we will negotiate peace. I give him my word on it.”

  “Yes, my lady,” Mi’tal replied.

  “You can’t just let him walk out of here!” Reylana shouted.

  “I can, Reylana, and I will.” She turned to Sal. “Release his hands.”

  Sal obeyed without hesitation.

  “We will move our camp, so if you are planning to return with an army you will be disappointed,” Essa said. She retrieved his hammer and held it out for him to take. “You may go.”

  “Thank you, my lady.” Taking the hammer, Mi’tal mounted his horse and rode from the campsite. With every breath he tensed, expecting an arrow to find its way into his flesh.

  “You’ve doomed us all, Essa,” Reylana said.

  “No,” Essa replied. “I have ensured there will be peace in our future. I am a warrior, but I do not wish to fight forever. Our old village is gone, and we must make a new one. I would not have it destroyed before it’s built.”

  Reylana shook her head. She was sick of this prince and his promises of peace. It would have sent a better message to return the prince’s servant in pieces. They still had the princess, however, and surely his betrothed was worth more than his servant.

  Chapter 38

  At midday another scout arrived at Reylin’s post to relieve him from his duties. He climbed out of the tree and returned to the camp. As he entered, several elves looked away from him, deliberately avoiding his gaze. The camp seemed strangely silent, and Reylin grew suspicious. Seeing Reylana, he called out to her. “What news, Sis?”

  Reylana rushed over to her brother’s side. “There was a Na’zoran here this morning,” she said. “He wanted to talk peace and locate the princess we’re holding.”

  “Where is he now?” he asked. “Dead?”

  Reylana took in a deep breath and released it quickly. “Essa let him go.”

  “What?” he shouted. “Why?”

  “She wanted him to carry back a message that we will discuss peace.”

  Without a word, Reylin shoved passed Reylana, determined to speak with Essa. “What have you done?” he demanded as he reached her.

  “A man came with a message from the prince. I sent him away with my own message.” Essa shrugged as if the incident were no big deal.

  “You should have sent for me,” he said angrily. “I could have killed him since you were too weak.”

  “How dare you!” she shouted at him. “I made my choice for the good of the clan. Would you have me make an enemy of this prince as well as the king? He may be our only chance for peace once Domren is dead.”

  “He may also reveal our location and send an army to crush us!” Reylin shouted back. “He probably got a good look at the size of our army as well.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she replied. “We can move the camp, and he doesn’t know we have runed weapons. We will be victorious the next time they attack.”

  “You should have killed that man,” Reylin continued. “Now he knows we are led by a weak woman.”

  Without hesitation, Essa slapped Reylin hard across his face. “I am not weak. You have no sense when it comes to leadership. All you see is killing.”

  “You’re exactly right,” he replied. “All Na’zorans deserve death.” He marched over to the captive women and grabbed Danna by her hair. As Lisalla screamed in horror, he dragged the dark-haired woman to the center of camp and slit her throat as she cried out. Her limp body fell to the earth, her blood staining the snow beneath her.

  Lisalla ran to her maid’s body and wept. “How could you be so evil?” she shot at Reylin. “She was no threat to you.”

  He grabbed Lisalla, his hand clutching her throat. Before he could make another move, Essa grabbed him from behind and yelled “Stop!” Once he was safely away from Lisalla, she released him. Hundreds of elves gathered around to witness the spectacle. “If you kill this one, the prince will never forget it. There will never be peace.”

  “We won’t need their peace once they’re all dead,” Reylin spat.

  Reylana approached her brother and softly placed a hand on his arm. “Come and talk with me, Brother,” she said. The two moved deeper into the forest, leaving the others to tend to the captives.

  “She had no right to release that man,” Reylin began. “Where were you?” He stopped walking and stared at his sister.

  “I was next to her,” she replied. “I did not agree, but she is my commander. She gives the orders.”

  “If you know better than her, then you don’t have to listen. You should have killed him yourself.”

  “Listen to what you’re saying,” she said. “Our clan works together, and we respect those who are in charge. Essa leads the sword maidens of the combined clans. The women trust her judgment, as do many of the men.”

  “She
’s wrong,” he replied.

  “She may be wrong, but I respect her decision. If she is right, her actions will bring about peace in the future.”

  “We can bring peace by ridding ourselves of the Na’zorans.” Reylin’s anger was finally beginning to subside a bit.

  “That wouldn’t bother me one bit, but I think it may be more than we can handle. They still outnumber us, and they still have those damned mages.”

  “We need to plan another raid now that we have better weapons,” he suggested. “We don’t want them to see us as weak.”

  “I agree,” Reylana replied. “There are other clans among us now, though. We have to make sure everyone is in agreement.”

  Together they returned to the camp, their feet crunching the frozen snow beneath them. Essa still stood near Lisalla, watching Reylin closely as he approached.

  “We want to plan a raid now that we have better weapons,” Reylana informed her.

  “That’s a good idea,” Essa replied.

  “What, you don’t want to wait for peace?” Reylin said mockingly.

  “I said I would negotiate peace once Domren is dead. While he lives, I will continue the fight. I won’t hide in the woods until he comes for me.” She glared at Reylin as she spoke.

  In an effort to calm the situation, Reylana said, “We’re all in agreement then. Let’s talk with some of the other clans as well.”

  Essa nodded. At the western edge of camp another disturbance was taking place. Hearing the commotion, the three raced to the scene. An Oak Leaf scout was returning to camp, followed by a large group of elven warriors. The clans across the river had come to join the fight.

  The fair-haired scout led the group to Essa and Reylin with a smile on his face. “These are warriors from the River Clan and the Willow Clan. They’ve come to help us fight.”

  Reylana’s face broke into a smile as she grabbed the scout and hugged him. Releasing him, she stared out into the crowd of elves. Hundreds had come to join the fight. The elven army now numbered over two thousand strong.

  “Fetch the rune carver,” Reylin told the scout. “He’s got a lot of work to do.”