War Of The Wildlands

by Lana Axe

  Chapter 50

  After catching a ride on one of Al’marr’s gem wagons, Yori found himself back in the village of Marrel. He had changed out of his green robe and donned the more comfortable clothing of the Wild Elves. Eager to see how his grandfather was faring, he hurried into the woods. The paths from the Sycamore village to Marrel were still worn, reassuring Yori that his clan had not been wiped out while he was away. He hoped they were safely settled on the far side of the river.

  The snow had melted away, leaving a sogginess to the forest floor. A cold breeze stung his skin as it joined the moisture of the woodlands to create its icy blast. Though the Sunswept Isles were always warm and sunny, Yori happily accepted the winter of his homeland. His nose was reddened and his eyes watered thanks to the frozen air, but he did not complain.

  Near the outskirts of the original Sycamore village, a scout called out to Yori from the trees. “Yori?” he called. “Is that you?”

  “It is,” he replied, scanning the branches above. He finally spotted the elf, who was waving happily as he sat among the treetops.

  “Glad to see you’ve come back.”

  “Thanks,” he replied. “Has the river frozen solid, or will I need to use a raft?”

  “The Blue River never freezes,” the elf replied. “You won’t need to cross it, though. The war is over, and we’ve returned to our old village. The new king has promised peace.”

  Yori’s heart leapt at the news. “That’s good to hear!” he called. “Does that mean King Domren is dead?”

  “Cold and stiff,” the elf replied happily. “The new king is drafting a treaty with all of the clans.”

  “Then the prince kept his word,” he commented. It was indeed good to hear that the prince had kept his promise. Peace had finally returned to the land, and the elves would no longer be driven from their homes.

  “I’m just as surprised as you are,” the elf replied.

  Waving goodbye, he quickened his pace until he reached the village. Stopping at its edge, he gazed on his father’s people. Elves moved here and there, going about their daily lives. Fresh elk meat was roasting, sending a pleasant aroma to his nostrils. His stomach growled in anticipation of the fine elven cuisine.

  At the far edge of town, he saw his grandfather’s furnace fire glowing a deep orange. The sound of the hammer let him know that Lem was hard at work, probably being yelled at by Darin. He hurried across the village to reunite with his family.

  “Yori?” Lem was obviously surprised to see him.

  A wide smile spread across Yori’s face. “Yep,” he replied. “I’m back. Where is Grandfather?”

  “I’m sorry, Yori,” Lem said, looking down at the anvil. “He’s gone.”

  “Gone?” he replied, his heart sinking at the thought that the old elf had died.

  “He’s across the river helping them dismantle the forge. The stubborn old elf keeps insisting we should leave no trace that we were ever there. He says it’s bad for the forest.”

  Yori sighed in relief. Seeing that his grandfather’s workbench had been left messy, he set down his bag and began tidying the area. Various tools were strewn about, most likely left there by Lem. Without supervision, he was rather forgetful and a bit careless. The tools needed to be cleaned and properly stored to avoid unnecessary wear and tear. As Yori busied himself cleaning, he heard a familiar voice coming from the edge of the village.

  “That’s it. Set it right there and don’t drop it. They can’t be reused if they’re all busted up.” Darin was directing two elves carrying heavy loads of brick. One elf bent to place the bricks on the ground, but Darin shouted, “Not there! Over there!” He pointed off to his right. Shaking his head, the elf did as he was commanded.

  Happy to see his grandfather hadn’t changed in the short time he was away, Yori strolled to his side. “Are these guys giving you trouble?” he asked jokingly.

  Darin turned around, wrinkling his brow. Seeing Yori, his face broke into a warm smile. “You’ve made it back,” he said. Clapping Yori on his back, he added, “I’m glad those snooty islanders didn’t roast you on a spit.”

  “I learned a lot from one of them,” Yori replied. “Master Eldon taught me how to set their enchanted gems among weapons.”

  “Really?” Darin asked curiously. “Does it combine with the runes?”

  “It does.”

  “You’ll have to tell me all about it.” He paused a moment and added, “That is, if you’re planning to stick around.”

  “I’ll stay a while if you’ll have me,” Yori said with a smile.

  “You’re always welcome here. Always.” Darin put an arm around Yori’s shoulders and said, “Come on. There’s one more load across the river, and you can help us carry it.”

  Yori gladly accompanied the elves to the river. As the raft pushed away from the shore, Yori knelt and looked into the blue water. A silver mist swirled just below the surface, and he could not resist the urge to touch it. As he placed his hand lightly in the water, the runes of his silver ring flashed. The runes that had once been purple took on a faint blue tint. Removing his hand from the water, he inspected the ring. The band itself had taken on a bluish tint as well.

  None of the others on the raft seemed to notice what had happened. Yori remained silent, not fully understanding what had occurred. Pressing the ring to his heart, he suddenly remembered a promise he had made. Perhaps the River God was reminding him to show him the path he should follow.

  Once they reached the shore, Yori helped the elves load up the last of the bricks from the forge. As they crossed the river for the last time, Yori saw no sign of the being that lived in the water. Being blessed by the river’s magic, he no longer felt uncertain about his future. He knew what he should do and where he should make his home.

  “You seem a million miles away,” Darin commented as they reached the shore.

  “Just thinking,” he replied. “I’m going to keep my promise to the prince,” he declared. “He has kept his promise to us, and I should do the same.”

  Nodding, Darin replied, “I understand, but stay here with us for a few days. I like having you around.” His green eyes sparkled as he looked upon his grandson.

  “I will,” he replied. “I hope I’m able to visit here once in a while. The forest is in my blood, and I don’t want to stay away from it too long.”

  Chapter 51

  Reylana paced anxiously outside the palace. Na’zora’s palace district was a far cry from her forest home. There were few trees and only tiny gardens spread here and there. The palace itself included a larger garden, but the winter’s chill had claimed every plant.

  “Stop pacing,” Essa said. “You’re making me nervous.”

  Halting in her tracks, Reylana took a seat next to Essa on the stone steps of the palace. “I bet the other clans are giving too much away,” she said, shaking her head.

  “They have to negotiate for themselves. If they stay strong, they will do as well as we have done.”

  “We’re moving farther north than I had hoped,” Reylana admitted. “I will miss the forests where I was born.”

  “That forest is no more,” Essa said flatly. “There is a healthy forest waiting for us, and our people will thrive there.”

  “Everything’s going to be different,” Reylana replied, looking at her feet. “I have no one, and I don’t even have my homeland anymore.”

  Essa looked at Reylana, her eyes sincere. “You have your clan. We are your family, and you are needed. Together, we will make a new life.”

  Reylana nodded, trusting in Essa’s words. “Let’s get back in there,” she said, standing.

  The two elves returned to the king’s throne room where scores of elves and humans had gathered. A large wooden table had been brought in for the occasion, and the king sat among the elves rather than on his throne. Choosing not to perch himself on his throne and look down upon them was a wise choice. Reylana respected the decision, hoping it was a reflection of the new k
ing’s true nature. Though she doubted he truly considered the elves his equal, at least he was making them feel as if they were.

  The newly appointed Overseer for the Silver Birch Clan was speaking forcefully, trying to convince his clansmen that his idea was best. “That land is destroyed,” he said. “We cannot return to our former home, so we must make do with what we’re given. The Forests of Viera are unspoiled.”

  “Your former village will never be the same,” Aelryk said. “There’s no point in trying to rebuild. The mages have ensured it would be uninhabitable by my father’s command.”

  “What will become of it?” a Sycamore clansman asked.

  “Na’zora will clear the land, and part of it will become farms. We will not be expanding our borders very far. We only wish to make use of the land that is now useless to you.”

  Though the new king’s words sounded logical, the elves murmured among themselves. Making a new life in a new forest could prove difficult, but some of them were eager to take on the challenge.

  “Where will Na’zora’s borders end?” Reylana asked, lifting her voice above the noise.

  “We will rebuild all of the farming villages that were destroyed in the fighting,” Aelryk began. “That land was already ours. We will take only the nearest sections of forest that are no longer sufficient for your people. Those areas will be converted to farms which will feed our growing population.”

  “So basically Na’zora gives nothing, the elves have to move, and Na’zora gains farmland.” With sarcasm, she added, “That seems fair.”

  Rising to his feet, the Sycamore Overseer spoke again. “The Forests of Viera will make a fine home for my clan. We will accept that land on the condition that it never be touched by Na’zora. You may not spread your borders or build farms in its vicinity. Nor may you create settlements between Viera and Enald.” He looked around the room proudly, hoping the elves would no longer object.

  “Agreed,” the king replied.

  Sounds of approval came from the seated elves. The Overseer nodded and sat back in his chair.

  “Viera is a small forested area,” Essa said. “You may find it inadequate someday.”

  “I’m not opposed to future negotiations,” the king declared.

  “You will be too busy running your kingdom to care about us elves,” Reylana said. “I, for one, would be happy if you just forgot about us as long as you leave us in peace.”

  “Let’s discuss the Sycamore Clan,” Aelryk suggested. “You have stated that you’ve already returned from your new village across the river and intend to occupy your original area. That is acceptable.”

  “It had better be,” Nat replied. “I expect my clan to be left alone in future. Na’zora will never need to extend its borders to Al’marr. Unless, of course, you want to start a war with them. We would gladly fight on their side.”

  A hush came over the crowd upon hearing Nat’s threat. His expression was serious, and he intended to keep his promise. He stared at the king, expecting an angry response.

  “I assure you that I have no plans to take your land.” The king’s voice was calm, his expression revealing no dishonesty. “Until we can learn to trust each other, we must abide by the terms spelled out in this treaty.”

  “Then make sure you add a line about staying away from us,” Nat remarked. “I don’t want it to slip your mind.”

  Aelryk made no effort to reply and turned his attention to the parchment in front of him. After a few moments of silence, he said, “I believe we’ve covered all of the clans and their territories. All that remains is to draft a final copy and have all of you sign it.”

  “Assuming the final copy is correct,” Reylana replied. “I’d hate to see you trying to trick us with your fancy words.”

  “I assure you, my lady, that the treaty will read exactly as promised. Everything that has been declared during these negotiations will be upheld by Na’zora.”

  The elves began to mingle as the Na’zoran scribes busied themselves drafting the final copies of the treaty. Nat joined Essa and Reylana, the three of them moving as far from the king as possible.

  “I think we’re all losers here,” Reylana commented. “Well, maybe not you, Nat.” She gave him a weak smile.

  “We’ve lost our sense of security,” he replied. “We still have our homes, but this war has changed us.”

  “Most of the clans are moving farther from Na’zora,” Essa pointed out. “The Silver Birch Clan is moving closer.”

  “That will lead to their demise,” Nat replied.

  “I hope this king keeps his promise to them, but I’ll stand with them in battle if he doesn’t.” Reylana’s voice was determined. She did not trust Aelryk, and she was willing to continue the fight if she had to.

  “With so many of us moving, I’m sure Na’zora will feel free to expand,” Essa said. “They won’t get too close to us for now, but in time I think they’ll overstep their boundaries. We must prepare our children to fight and keep close ties with the other clans.”

  “Agreed,” Nat said.

  Once the documents were prepared, each clan took its turn looking over the words for discrepancies. Finding no tricks, they placed their signatures on the treaty. They were now free to return to the Wildlands and make new lives for themselves. Peace had been promised, friendship had not.

  Chapter 52

  Once the treaty had been completed, the people of Na’zora began preparations to crown their new king. On that same day, he would wed Princess Lisalla, the woman who would be their queen. Despite the massive rebuilding that lay ahead of them, the citizens were determined to celebrate.

  Aelryk intended to have his coronation and wedding in the palace courtyard overlooking the ocean. Hundreds of citizens could gather on the beach and still have a decent view of the ceremony. All Na’zorans were welcome, regardless of their rank or class. This was to be a day of celebration. The dark cloud of his father’s reign had ended, and a new era of peace and prosperity lay ahead.

  Lisalla’s maids buzzed around her, preparing her for her wedding. The lavender gown which she had brought from Ra’jhou had been retrieved from her carriage, and today she would finally wear it. She brushed a hand lightly over the tiny pearls that accentuated the bodice and admired herself in a full-length mirror.

  The gown was stunning, but a sadness found its way into Lisalla’s heart. She could not help thinking of Danna and how much she had looked forward to this day. It pained Lisalla that her friend was gone, and she missed her deeply. Her mind wandered back to the day Danna had been killed, the image forever embedded in her memory.

  As the maids began to decorate her hair with ribbons and flowers, Lisalla did her best to brush off the sad thoughts and put a smile on her face. Today was a day to celebrate, not mourn. Her new life was about to begin.

  Out in the courtyard, a huge crowd had assembled to witness the day’s events. It was nearly midday, and the coronation was soon to begin. The winter air was chilly, but that did not deter Na’zora’s citizens from gathering to greet their new king. The ocean sent a warm breeze to comfort them and bring joy to their hearts.

  As Lisalla appeared in the courtyard, a silence fell over the crowd. She walked softly to her seat, her satin shoes making no sound against the stone pathway. Taking her seat, she looked upon the crowd and the faces of her people. Both young and old, whether peasant or noble, returned her gaze, and she smiled warmly at each of them. Her heart swelled with love for her citizens. Na’zora was her true home from this day forth, and she knew her life here would be happy.

  Aelryk finally emerged from the palace to take his seat in the courtyard. In near-perfect unison, the assembled guests dropped to one knee. As the king took his seat, the crowd rose to observe his coronation.

  General Luca, who had served as First Advisor under King Domren, lifted a golden crown from a soft velvet cushion. His flowing blue robe danced on the wind as he held the crown high in the air and proclaimed, “Na’zorans, I present
to you Aelryk, son of Domren, your true and undoubted king!” With great dignity, he strode to the king and placed the crown upon his head before kneeling in reverence. The crowd erupted in cheers and applause.

  King Aelryk stood and reached for Lisalla’s hand. Placing her hand in his, she smiled gently at her betrothed and curtsied respectfully. He kissed her soft, pale hand and looked deeply into her blue eyes. From this moment he would love her, and no other woman would ever come between them. He vowed in his heart to be a faithful and loving husband.

  The pair made their way to the marriage altar, which had been placed only a few steps from the throne. A golden chalice full of deep purple wine awaited them. Lifting the chalice before his new bride, Aelryk said, “I vow to love you and honor you in all things. I take you as my wife and pledge my fidelity.” After taking a long sip from the chalice, he passed it to Lisalla.

  Trying to fight her nerves, Lisalla lifted the glass before her husband. “I vow to love and honor you in all things. I take you as my husband and pledge my fidelity.” Pausing for a moment to take a quick breath, she smiled playfully and drank from the goblet.

  After she returned the goblet to the altar, Aelryk took her in his arms and kissed her passionately. The warmth of his touch soothed Lisalla, and her nerves soon melted away. Lovingly, she placed a hand on the back of his head and gently stroked his dark hair. As they separated, she looked into his eyes and saw kindness.

  The couple once again joined hands, turning to face the crowd. The citizens cheered for their new king and queen, raising their voices in celebration. Together, Aelryk and Lisalla returned to the palace along with scores of followers. A feast had been prepared to celebrate the momentous day, and hundreds of citizens had been invited. Tonight they would celebrate with music and dance along with fireworks presented by the court mages.