War Of The Wildlands (15 page)

A
t the base of
the Wrathful Mountains lay the village of the Mountain Clan. As he scouted far
ahead of the warriors, Reylin scanned the trees for any sign of elven life.
Glimpsing a slight movement on a high branch, he called, “Hello, there. I am
Reylin of the Oak Leaf Clan. My kinsmen and I are seeking the Mountain Clan.”

The branch swayed again as a young, silver-haired
elf climbed down. “Greetings, Reylin. I am Sal of the Mountain Clan. What
brings you so far north?”

“There is a war in our homeland,” Reylin replied.
“Many clans of the Wildlands have been displaced. We come seeking allies.”

Sal nodded, understanding Reylin’s plight. “I’ve
heard nothing of the war, but we have little to do with any outsiders. News
does not travel well here, I’m afraid. Come with me and speak to our Overseer.”

“I’ve brought a large number of warriors with me.
Should I tell them to wait here?”

“No, they can come as well. We may not be able to
feed everyone, but they are all welcome in our village.”

Reylin and Sal moved quickly through the forest to
locate the rest of the group. Essa stood at the front, watching as the elves
approached.

“This is Essa, leader of the sword maidens,”
Reylin said.

“Well met, Sister.”

Sal openly admired Essa’s figure with his eyes.
Essa, however, did not return the sentiment. Mountain Clan elves have paler skin
than those of the woods, and if Sal represented the other males of the village,
they must be even shorter than the males of her own clan. His clear blue eyes
were rather fetching, but she had more important matters on her mind.

“Greetings,” she replied flatly. She turned to
Reylin and asked, “Are we continuing north?”

“The Mountain Clan’s village is not far from here.
We have all been invited.”

“What of the humans?” Essa asked.

“Humans?” Sal echoed.

“We have two human hostages. They are bound and
shouldn’t cause any trouble.” Reylin pointed to the two women.

“I see,” Sal replied. “I can’t see any problem
with them, but the Overseer has the final say. Let’s get going.” He led the group
through the forest to a vast evergreen valley. The mountain breeze brought
fresh, cool air to their lungs and renewed their spirits. This was a land
untouched by war, where the streams ran with pure, clean water, and the earth
was unspoiled.

In the distance, the Wrathful Mountains stood
proudly, ever reaching beyond the clouds. Lisalla paused briefly to admire the
scene but was soon shoved by an impatient sword maiden. She resumed her march, all
the while admiring the mountains and the beauty of the valley before her. She
had spent her entire life only a few days away from this place, yet she had
never had the pleasure of visiting it. Her heart filled with hope as she
admired the magnificent landscape.

As they entered the village, many of the Mountain
Clan elves stopped what they were doing to stare at the horde. Never before had
there been such a gathering of elves in their land. Sal led Reylin and Essa
straight to the Overseer’s hut, where a surprisingly young Overseer waited
inside.

“Overseer,” Sal began. “These are the warriors of
the Oak Leaf Clan. They have come seeking our aid in battle.”

“Have they indeed?” he replied, standing. His pale
eyes looked from Essa to Reylin as he spoke. “There has been no news of war
near our borders, but we mainly keep to ourselves. If it hasn’t come directly
to our village, we would have no knowledge of it.”

“We have with us all of the warriors that remain
of the Oak Leaf, Silver Birch, and Mulberry Clans. We have joined forces to
fight the Kingdom of Na’zora. They have invaded our lands and slaughtered our
people.”

“Where is Na’zora?” the Overseer asked.

“It lies south of Ra’jhou and stretches to the
east coast.”

“Why have they declared war on our people?” The
Overseer seemed genuinely concerned. A war against any Woodland Elf clan was a
war against his own.

“Their king has decided to extend his borders. We
were in the way.”

“Have you come seeking refuge or allies?”

“Perhaps both,” Reylin responded. “Some of our
warriors are past their prime, and others have been injured. Not all of them
will be able to continue fighting. It is my hope to join all of the elven clans
together into a single force.”

“That would seem to be the most effective way to
fight,” the Overseer replied. I will call a meeting of my people to discuss the
matter. We have not been involved in a war for many generations, but I feel
certain my people will wish to join your cause.”

“Thank you,” Reylin said. He turned to leave the
hut, followed by Essa.

“That was easier than I expected,” Essa remarked.

“I’ve never met any member of the Mountain Clan
before today, but I was always told that they were honorable elves. I think
they just proved that rumor to be true.”

The elves began to mingle with their mountain kin,
and the mood became less somber. For a short time at least, they were welcomed
into a thriving village that reminded them of the homes they had lost.
Untouched by the hand of war, the elves flourished among the mountains.

At the base of a small evergreen, Lisalla and
Danna had been secured with ropes while the elves enjoyed the hospitality of
their kin. No one saw the women as a threat, and they were left completely
unguarded. Reylin approached the women as they sat motionless in the sunlight.

“These bonds are too tight,” Lisalla said as he
approached. “I would be more comfortable if you could loosen them just a bit.”

“So you can kick my teeth in while I’m bent over?”
Reylin laughed as he spoke and made no move to loosen the leather straps on her
wrists.

“You may bind my feet first if you like,” Lisalla
suggested. “I only ask for a small comfort, not to be set free.”

“You have resigned yourself to remain my prisoner
then?”

“Not in the slightest,” she replied. “Eventually
you will either free me or kill me. I am of no use except as a bargaining chip
in this war. Once I’ve served my purpose, you will be rid of me in one way or
the other.”

“You’re smarter than you look,” Reylin replied,
kneeling next to her. He removed the leather strap that bound her hands and
tossed it to the ground. He remained in close proximity, which made Lisalla
feel uneasy. She did not know his intentions, and she wished he would move
farther away from her.

His eyes moved over her form, drinking in the
curves of her body. “You really should wear more clothes,” he said. “Your
nipples are showing.”

Without considering the consequences, she slapped
him across the face.

Reylin replied with laughter. “I’m only mentioning
it because it seems unbecoming of a princess to expose her breasts.”

“For your information, I was sleeping when you
attacked me. These are my nightclothes, and you did not have the decency to
allow me to change before you dragged me away.”

“Maybe you should have asked while you were
issuing orders to speak to our leader. I might have allowed it. Then again, I
might like to have the both of you travel along naked.”

Lisalla tried to stand, but her waist was still
roped to the tree. Danna wept into her hands, fearing what might become of her
mistress.

“If you dare lay a hand on me, I will kill you.” Lisalla
stared straight into Reylin’s eyes as she made the threat.

“With what?” Reylin laughed again. “Don’t worry,
dear lady. I have no intention of raping you or your bawling maid. No elf would
dare touch a human woman. The very thought is repulsive.” He moved over to
Danna and untied her hands as well. “We’re not as evil as you’ve heard. Any elf
sick enough to rape a member of his clan would be castrated and impaled at the
head of the village for all to see. We don’t tolerate savagery among our own.”

Lisalla had not considered the idea of laws among
the Wild Elves. In fact, she had never given them much thought at all until she
was taken prisoner by them. So far, they seemed brutal and uncaring. “Your
women are bigger than your men. I doubt they would be easy to subdue.”

“They are taller, for sure,” Reylin explained.
“But they aren’t stronger. Meaner, maybe.” He laughed and shook his head.
“Anyway, such a crime has not been committed in my lifetime. I’ve only heard
stories from ages past.”

Lisalla remained silent, wondering why Reylin did
not join the rest of his clan in eating and drinking. Everyone else seemed to
be enjoying themselves while Reylin kept watch over two women who had no hope
of escape. Even if they managed to free themselves from the rope, they would
soon perish in the Wildlands. Neither of them knew anything about the woods,
and both of them were underdressed for the winter conditions.

“I could use something warm to wear, as could my
maid,” Lisalla said.

“I’m sure you could,” Reylin replied. “What would
you have me bring you?”

“A blanket? A coat? Surely there are some spare
pieces of clothing around this village.”

“Maybe, but do you really want to dress as an elf?
It might get you killed in the next attack.”

“I don’t fear death,” Lisalla declared. “I would
rather die warm and standing on my own two feet rather than cowering against
the frozen earth.”

“Well spoken, my lady,” Reylin said with a grin.
“I’ll find you something.” After a few moments, he returned with two fur
blankets along with two long-sleeved leather shirts and two pairs of pants.
“Enough for both of you,” he said, tossing them the garments. With a quick
stroke of his knife, he released them from the rope that held them to the tree.

“Thank you,” Lisalla said. “Now turn away so we
can change.”

“So you can run?”

“So we can change,” she repeated. “We’ve nowhere
to run. I doubt I could make it far before an arrow found its way into my flesh.”

“No kidding,” Reylin said, removing his bow from
his back. “I’ll compromise and turn my head to the side.”

Lisalla sighed, but did not argue. She handed
Danna a shirt and pants and pulled her new clothes on, letting her dress drop
to the ground. Instantly, she felt much warmer.

“I am grateful to you, Reylin,” she said. “You
have shown yourself to be a decent man.”

“High praise indeed,” he said mockingly. “You can
join me in getting something to eat.”

The women followed him to the fire pit at the
center of the village. The mountain elves eyed the women curiously but said nothing.
They were quick to accept anyone their kinsmen accepted.

“Tell me, Reylin,” Lisalla began as she ate. “Why
are you fighting this war?”

“Because King Domren is murdering my people for
their land. He wants to own everything west of Na’zora. Maybe once we’re all
dead he will invade Ra’jhou.”

“He could try,” she replied, “but if I’m married
to his son, I doubt he would make such a move. I have never heard anything good
about King Domren. I hear he oppresses his own people, and justice is a thing
of the past.”

“I don’t care how he treats his own,” Reylin
stated. “They have the power to be rid of him. Maybe one of them will do us all
a favor and kill him.”

“It’s possible but unlikely,” she pointed out. “People
usually love their king, even if he doesn’t deserve it.”

“He murdered my parents,” Reylin said. “They were
part of a small group of elves asked to negotiate a land treaty with Na’zora.
He offered to draw up a map and settle the borders permanently. Instead, he
slaughtered the elves to show his strength and started a war with the Silver
Birch Clan. They had been the most receptive to the humans and were the first
to be scattered by their hands.”

“That’s terrible,” Lisalla commented. “It is a
despicable thing to disrespect a banner of truce. If he called them in to
negotiate and then killed them, he is the most wicked sort of man imaginable.”

“That’s exactly what he is, and if I get the
chance, I will kill him myself.”

R
eylana
descended the trees in a fury. In a flash, she stood before the Overseer.
“You’re just going to let them push you across the river? What happens when
they keep pushing until you land in the sea?”

“They will not be able to cross the river,” the
Overseer said smugly. “The God of the River will protect us from harm.”

“He doesn’t even exist!” She shouted. “If you
think some make-believe, magical god is going to protect you, then you’re an
even bigger fool than I thought.”

“How dare you insult-” the Overseer began, but he was
quickly cut off by Reylana.

“Shut up!” she shouted. “I have no time for
cowards.” She turned to the gathered elves and asked, “Who will fight with me?”

Scores of hands went up followed by cheers from
the warriors willing to fight. Yori looked down at his feet and remained
silent.

“What about you?” Reylana asked as she approached
him.

“I have no desire to go to war,” he replied.

“We need you. Our weapons are insufficient, and you
can sway the odds in our favor.”

“Prince Aelryk seems like an honorable man to me,”
Yori replied. “He spared all of our lives and promises a future of peace. I
don’t want to be responsible for countless deaths.”

“So you’re a coward too,” Reylana declared,
turning away from him. “I’m leaving to rejoin my brother’s army. Anyone who
wants to come is welcome. Bring your weapons.”

Nearly four hundred warriors prepared to set out
for war. They gathered their weapons, including the arrow tips that Yori had
made. All of them carried at least one runed weapon. Though he feared his
kinsmen would still be outnumbered once the clans were united, Yori felt that
he had already done enough to help their cause. He did not think it was right
that Na’zora’s king was forcing the elves from their homes, but he did not
agree with the elves slaughtering humans in retaliation. Somehow, there had to
be a chance for peace. If only the prince turned out to be a man of his word,
the war might come to an end.

The elves who remained in the village began
packing their winter provisions for the journey across the river. Yori and Lem
began packing up the tools from the forge. The forge itself would have to be
rebuilt once they reached their destination.

“Why didn’t you go with them?” Lem asked. “You
should have gone.”

“That was the same prince who freed me from prison
when his father was going to have me killed. You could have gone if you’re so
in favor of the war.”

“I’m no use with a bow, and I can’t etch the
runes. I would have just been in the way.”

“Then don’t judge me,” Yori replied.

* * * * *

Three days later the Sycamore Clan was ready to cross the river. Several
rafts had been constructed from fallen timber, and the shaman had been fasting
in preparation for his ceremony to praise the River God. The clan could not
hope to cross the Blue River in safety without the god’s blessing.

Yori watched spellbound as the shaman approached
the riverbank at dawn. Dressed all in blue feathers, which had been specially
dyed for the occasion, he danced proudly along the bank. His ankles and wrists
were adorned with shell bracelets that rattled as he moved. As he danced, he
chanted words that Yori did not understand, but he could certainly feel their
power. It was clear to him that earth or water magic was involved, but he did
not fully understand it. Instead, he listened closely to the chanting and
admired the graceful, bird-like movements of the shaman.

As soon as the shaman finished the dance, he
approached the Overseer and declared, “The River God will allow us to cross in
safety.”

Darin took note of Yori’s interest in the
ceremony. “We used to have lots of ceremonies like that when I was young. We
praised all the forest gods in those days.”

“Why did you stop?” Yori asked.

“Different generations have different priorities
it seems.”

“It’s a shame to lose something so magical,” Yori
remarked.

“Yes, but the world is changing,” his grandfather
replied. “We aren’t as connected to the earth as we once were. Perhaps in time
we will be again.”

They boarded a raft to cross the Blue River. Yori
looked down into its depths as they floated gently across the current. As they
neared the halfway point, the blue of the river’s depths became more intense. Staring
deeply into the water, Yori caught a glimpse of a face. For a split second, its
features appeared silver amid the blue depths. An expression of pure serenity
spread across the face before it disappeared back into the blue. Yori remained
silent and did not mention what he had seen. Perhaps the River God had truly
smiled on their crossing.

When the raft reached the far bank, Yori hopped
off first to offer a hand to the rest of the elves as they disembarked.
Carrying the majority of his grandfather’s belongings, he chose a flat patch of
earth where they could build the new forge. “Will this spot work?” he asked his
grandfather.

“Looks just fine to me,” he replied. “I’m guessing
they plan to rebuild the village close to the bank. There is a fire elemental
living in a tower just a few days’ walk from here. No one wants to live too
close to him.”

“What does a fire elemental look like?” Yori
asked.

“Beats me,” Darin replied. “He probably has red
hair, though.” He smiled lightheartedly at his grandson.

For a moment, Yori was tempted to go and see for
himself but thought better of it. He felt out of place now that the village was
being relocated. Reylana’s words echoed in his ears, and he wondered if he was
indeed a coward. The thought of war gave him nothing but bad feelings. His
heart ached to see the elves treated fairly and for an end to the violence. No
one should have to die for a piece of land.

“Grandfather,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about
the Sunswept Isles. I’ve heard they enchant weapons and armor using gems.”

“I believe I’ve heard that as well,” Darin
replied. “They’re all sorcerers, so they use their spells on the gems and set
them into the metal. I’m told they can create very powerful enchantments.”

“What if you used those gems and runes together?”
Yori was curious whether such a thing had ever been attempted.

“I imagine you’d have a very powerful weapon,”
Darin replied. “I don’t think the Enlightened Elves bother with runes, though.
I’m sure those snotty, self-righteous bastards consider them beneath their
intelligence.” He thought for a moment and then asked, “Who would you give such
a weapon to if you could create it?”

Yori was surprised by the question. He had not
paused to consider what could be done with something so powerful. “Well,” he
began, “I don’t suppose I would want it in the hands of the attacker. Maybe I
would give it to whoever was trying to defend their home.”

“What if the people defending their home are
committing atrocities of their own?” his grandfather replied. “In war, it isn’t
always easy to determine who is good or bad.”

“You’re right about that,” he said with a sigh. He
had refused to travel with Reylana and provide more weapons for the elves, even
though his refusal might be their downfall. However, he did not see the need to
continue killing Na’zorans when the prince honestly desired peace. He could see
no reason why the two sides could not end the violence and come to an
agreement. “I’m not sure I belong here any longer.” His tongue felt heavy as he
spoke the words.

“It can’t be easy for you being a child of two
worlds.” Darin placed his hands on his grandson’s shoulders. “I have taught you
everything I know, and you have proven yourself highly skilled. You could use
more practice, but you don’t have to stay around here to get it.”

Yori hugged his grandfather tightly. He tried to
swallow the lump he felt in his throat as tears began to form in his eyes. “I
love you, Grandfather. Thank you for everything.”

“I love you too,” the old elf replied. “Your
father had the traveling spirit in him as well. Where will you go?”

“I think I’ll try the Sunswept Isles. I’d like to
learn how their magic affects steel.”

“You might have trouble finding someone to teach
you. They aren’t exactly a friendly bunch.” Darin laughed as he spoke.

“They’ll think I’m too tall for a Wild Elf. Maybe
I can fool them into thinking I’m one of them.”

“Maybe so,” Darin replied, clapping Yori on the
back. “At least stay for dinner. You can be on your way in the morning.”

“Don’t you need my help with the new forge?” Yori
asked.

“Lem is more than capable of helping me rebuild
the forge,” he replied. “We’ll be here waiting for you when you get back.”

Yori did not know why he felt the urge to travel
and learn about other magical weapons. He knew very well that anything he
created would likely be used in war, since weapons are not typically used for
peaceful purposes. Still, he wanted to learn all that he could. Someday he
might return to the prince and serve him in times of peace. Even without the
threat of war, it was best to have a way of defending one’s self. Evil could
take on any guise, and his skills may be needed one day.