War Of The Wildlands (22 page)

K
ing Domren sat
tall and proud on his throne as Aelryk stormed into the throne room. “There you
are,” the king said. “I’ve been awaiting your return.”

Bowing before his father, the prince said, “My men
and I were forced to retreat. The elves have acquired some very powerful
weapons. They killed nearly a quarter of my men, and wounded hundreds. The city
of Duana has been decimated.”

“Yes,” the king said. “Enald has been destroyed as
well. It’s very clever of them to take out two market districts.”

Aelryk glanced back at Mi’tal, who was standing at
the back of the room. Mi’tal’s face wore an expression of surprise. The news
that elves had managed to attack and destroy two of Na’zora’s largest cities
was shocking. “What is your plan, Father?”

“The college has sent over a little gift.” The
king’s face broke into a wide smile. “Months ago I ordered them to cease all
training that did not involve battle skills. I now have fifty mages at my
command who are ready for war.”

The disbelief was clear on Aelryk’s face. He had
been kept completely in the dark about his father’s plan. “So you’ve been
planning this all along, yet you did not bother to share it with me.”

“That’s right,” the king replied. “Why should I?
You’ve been against this war from the start.” He leaned forward, taking a
closer look at his son. “You are a magnificent leader, and your men would
follow you into the sea if you rode there.” He frowned, adding, “Unfortunately,
you are weak. You don’t have the stomach to do what must be done. You’d have
tried to talk me out of it had you known my intentions. I didn’t want to listen
to your whining.”

Aelryk could feel the heat rising to his face.
“Whining? All I’ve ever tried to do was offer you sound advice. It’s more than
I can say for those pitiful dolts you call councilors.”

“My son, if you’re going to be king you must learn
a thing or two.” He sat back in his chair and shook his head. “Councilors who
disagree with you can be replaced. The rule of Na’zora belongs to one man
alone. Someday that man will be you, and I expect you to uphold your father’s
legacy.”

Aelryk stared at his father, maintaining his
silence. No one in the room dared to speak. The councilors who were present
didn’t even dare to glance at one another, for fear of making a sound.

“Prepare your troops,” the king said, cutting
through the silence. “We will be riding out again tomorrow.”

“We don’t know where the elven army is,” the
prince pointed out.

“Yes, we do,” the king stated proudly. “Orzi has
given me their precise location.” So far, the prophet had not been wrong in his
advice to the king. His words were golden to the king’s ears.

With a bow, Aelryk turned on his heels and strode
to the door. Mi’tal followed closely behind as he exited. Once they were
outside in the sunlight, the prince paused to speak.

“Did you have any knowledge of these mages?” the
prince asked.

“Not in the slightest, my lord,” Mi’tal replied. “I
would assume only General Luca was aware of it. He would never divulge the
king’s secrets. Not to me, at least.”

“Nor to me, it would seem.” The prince stared at
the ground, lost in thought.

“Shall I prepare the troops, my lord?” Mi’tal
asked.

With a sigh, the prince replied, “Yes. If my
father is riding into battle, we must go as well. Once those mages are
unleashed, Lisalla may be in grave danger. Without us, there will be no chance
of stopping my father. He won’t care if the princess is among the casualties as
long as she’s accompanied in death by many elves.”

* * * * *

Three days of riding brought the king’s army within range of the elven
encampment. Their arrival, however, had not gone unnoticed. Scouts had seen
them approaching, and the elven army was given a day to prepare for the coming
battle. Reylin’s troops were low on arrows and had busied themselves crafting
more. Unfortunately, they did not have enough time to craft new metal tips and
were having to make do with sharpening the wooden shafts. Essa’s troops still
had a small amount of runed tips, and they planned to use them wisely. They
would only be shot into the largest groups of enemy soldiers, in hopes of
taking down as many men as possible with a single arrow.

The sun was already high in the sky when the
scouts sent word that the enemy had arrived. The archers began ascending the
trees, taking cover in the thick evergreen boughs.

“All sword maidens split into small groups,” Essa
told the women. “Find a place low in the branches where you can take cover, but
be ready to strike at a moment’s notice. We want to avoid the possibility of a
mounted charge, but once the forest has forced them to disperse, we must be
ready to fight.”

The women began choosing their groups and setting
off into the woods. The elves would not meet the Na’zorans at the edge of the
woods. Instead, they would force the humans to come deep into the forest if they
wanted to fight. The archers would be ready to fire as soon as they came within
range.

King Domren commanded the troops to wait as the
mages rode to the front of the line. The battle mages had been confident they
could fire far enough from the tree line to avoid the elves’ arrows. They
stopped well away from the forest’s edge to prepare their attack. Ten of the
mages formed a circle around the rest and spread their arms wide. Focusing
their eyes skyward, the mages began to chant. White magic encompassed the
entire party, forming a protective barrier. The battle mages were now free to
begin their work.

With great effort, the mages conjured their blasts
in groups of four. They touched their palms together, forming a link that
concentrated their efforts into a single spell. Half of them chose to create
massive fireballs, while others focused on energy blasts. Once their spells
were prepared, the shielding mages dropped their protective layer to allow the
battle mages to fire. As they sent blast after blast into the forest, the earth
began to shake. Limbs were flying through the air as trees were struck, and
dirt and debris spewed in every direction.

The elves, who were expecting magefire, clung
tightly to the trees. The force of the blasts were much stronger than they had
been before, and the archers were unable to return fire. All of their energy
was focused on grasping the limbs to stop themselves from falling. Smoke began
to rise as parts of the forest caught fire. Energy blasts continued to pound
the forest, tearing pits into the earth and toppling trees.

Smoke and dust filled the air as Reylin descended
from the trees. Most of the other archers had already climbed down, unable to
maintain their grip through the constant waves of magefire. “We should just fire
in their direction,” Reylin suggested. “Maybe we’ll hit some of them.”

“No,” Nat replied. “We’re going to need our arrows
if they enter the forest. We can’t waste them firing blindly into the smoke.”

“He’s right,” Sal said. “The mages didn’t come
within range. I would have seen it from my position.”

“What do we do then, run?” Reylin asked angrily.

“We should press deeper into the forest,” Nat
suggested. “They can’t continue this onslaught. Their mages will tire soon
enough, and then we can fight the rest of them on our own turf.”

“Agreed,” Sal replied.

Reylin remained silent but nodded his approval.
His personal choice would be to unleash as many arrows as possible on the
mages, but many elves may be lost in the process.

“Let’s spread out and inform the sword maidens,”
Nat said, turning to leave.

Essa was already heading their direction to
discuss the situation. “We need to fall back,” she said as she reached Nat.

“That’s what we decided as well,” he said.

With a nod, she went to inform the women. Once the
group was together, they marched deeper into the forest, hoping the army would
pursue. If their mages ran out of power, the elves would have a fighting
chance.

The mages continued pounding the forest
relentlessly. Fires were burning throughout the forest, and giant limbs were
snapped from the trees. In a show of force, the mages concentrated their fire to
uproot a massive conifer which shook the earth as it fell. As the giant roots
were ripped from the ground, dirt and rocks flew all around the Na’zoran army. The
soldiers raised their arms to shield their eyes from the dust.

Domren signaled the army to move ahead. The mages
were beginning to tire and had already been consuming potions to replenish
their magical stores. Soon, they would all be useless. Magefire was a powerful
weapon, but it had its limits.

Aelryk’s troops moved ahead first. If he could
find the elves before his father’s men, perhaps he could negotiate Lisalla’s
release. As they moved into the woods, Aelryk could barely make out the figure
of Mi’tal riding next to him through the haze of smoke filling the air. The men
began to choke and cough on the thick, polluted air. The massive amount of debris
on the ground was making passage difficult for the horses. They moved slowly,
attempting to take careful steps, but many of them were still tripping and
unbalancing their riders.

“We can’t continue like this, my lord,” Mi’tal
called to the prince.

Aelryk held up a hand, signaling his men to halt.
He knew Mi’tal was right, but his heart ached to continue forward. Somewhere in
this forest was Lisalla, assuming she was still alive. “Perhaps I could go on
alone and speak with the elves,” he said.

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Mi’tal said, coming
closer to the prince. “I don’t think they’re going to be in a talking mood
after that attack.”

Sighing, Aelryk said, “You’re probably right.” He
looked forward into the forest, hoping that Lisalla was safe and well somewhere
among the trees. “Let’s get back to the king.” Turning their horses, the men moved
out of the woods.

Domren rode forth as the prince emerged from the
trees. “What’s the problem?” he asked impatiently.

“You can’t see an inch in front of your face in
there,” he said. “We’ll be slaughtered if we try to follow those elves.”

“If they made it through the smoke, so can you,”
the king protested.

“They can smell every branch in those woods. They
know it by heart, and they don’t need their eyes to navigate it. Maybe you
should learn a thing or two about your enemy.”

Domren glared at the prince. Turning his horse, he
rode back to his troops. “General Luca,” he called. “We’ve given them enough to
think about for today. Let’s get back to the palace.”

The army began to move out, leaving the elves to
their ruined forest. Aelryk took one last look over his shoulder, taking in the
destruction. Where once had stood a tall, proud evergreen forest was now a
burning pile of rubble. Hoping the destruction had not spread too far into the
woods, he led his troops homeward. Once again, he had failed to find Lisalla
and bring her to safety. He vowed never to fail her again.

F
ires raged all
around as the elves fled deeper into the forest. The smoke was too thick to
navigate by sight, but the elven scouts of the Mulberry Clan knew this forest
by heart. Only a few hours away, their village lay in ruins. The elven army
made its way through the evergreens to a dense deciduous forest. If the
Na’zorans were in pursuit, they would have difficulty traversing the thick
underbrush of these woods. Only the light-footed elves dared to enter this
forest.

At the edge of the woods, they rejoined the small
group of elves that had stayed behind. Lisalla was among them, her head bowed
and her heart heavy. She had refused to speak or eat since Danna’s death, and
she had sworn to escape at the first opportunity. No longer caring whether she
survived, she decided that dying alone in the wild would be preferable to a
senseless death at the hands of an angry elf. At the very least, she would die
knowing she had tried to save herself. She did not intend to die weeping.

“This looks like a good place to stop,” Essa said
as they reached a dense grove of trees. “If they’re behind us, we will have the
most cover here.”

For the next several hours, scouts came and went
as they patrolled each direction in search of the Na’zoran army. There was no
indication that they had been followed, and the sun was fading fast. As
darkness began to overtake the forest, the elves settled in for the night.

“They must not have been able to make it through
the mess they created,” Reylana commented.

“They should be ashamed of themselves for damaging
such a beautiful section of forest,” Sal said. “Do these humans have any care
for nature?”

“They only care about taking it away from us,”
Reylin replied. “They’ll be back soon, and we need more weapons.”

“How do you suggest we get them?” Essa asked.

“We raid more villages and take them away from the
Na’zorans.”

“I don’t like that idea,” Nat said. “They had
about fifty mages with them. They could be posted anywhere along the border,
and I’d rather not risk losing any more of our kinsmen.”

Those who had been slain in the last battle had
been left where they fell. In their hurry to flee the magefire, the elves had
not had the chance to carry their bodies into the trees. Many of the fallen lay
beneath massive trees that were uprooted by the energy blasts. Nothing could be
done for them. The earth itself would have to accept the remains.

“I agree,” Essa said to Nat. “We need weapons, but
getting them from Na’zora is too dangerous. We don’t know what they’re
planning.”

“We know exactly what they’re planning!” Reylin
shouted. “They’re planning to kill all of us and take every inch of the
Wildlands for themselves!”

Reylana came to her brother’s side and placed a
hand on his shoulder. “There’s no need to get angry.” Her voice was calm and
kind, but did little to soothe his temper.

“Your friends here are ready to give up. They want
to hide in the woods and wait until the king dies so they can kiss the prince’s
ass.”

“That prince is ten times the man you’ll ever be!”
A voice shouted from the darkness. Lisalla had once again been tethered to a
tree. She could no longer contain her hatred for Reylin.

“Speak again and I will shove a rock in your
mouth!” Reylana shouted. “You have no idea what my brother has suffered at the
hands of these men. Our parents were murdered by your prince’s father, so don’t
presume to know what kind of man the prince is. A dog does as its master
commands!”

Lisalla did not reply. Aelryk was a far cry from
his father, that much was certain. Though she did not know him, she had heard
the words of his servant promising to make peace with the elves. In her heart,
she knew the prince to be wise and fair.

“We aren’t giving up,” Essa said, “but I refuse to
lead this army into a massacre. They probably expect us to run over and attack
them. They’ll be ready for it.”

“We should wait and send more scouts to patrol the
area,” Nat suggested. “In the meantime, we can focus on crafting new arrows and
making repairs to our weapons.”

“That’s a good idea,” Sal replied.

“Agreed,” Essa said. “We need to prepare ourselves
for the next attack. We will need hundreds of arrows crafted. The next time
we’re attacked, we may have to use all of them on those mages.”

“We would have done better in this battle if that
damned half-breed rune carver had joined us,” Reylana spat.

“So that’s it then?” Reylin interrupted. “We just
sit here and wait?”

“You don’t have to sit,” Nat answered. “We need
you to help scout the area.” He didn’t understand Reylin’s frustration.

“Shut up!” Reylin shouted. “No one was asking you.
You’re just some little fool we picked up. Your opinion is worth less than
shit!”

“Reylin, please,” Reylana said, attempting to
soothe her brother. “Come and walk with me,” she said. Taking Reylin’s arm, she
led him away from the others. Glancing back over her shoulder, she sighed as
she looked at Nat. He had been a wise leader and a brave warrior, and she
didn’t want her brother to continue insulting him. She hoped he would calm down
after he had a little time to clear his head.

“After everything I’ve done for them, they just
replace me,” Reylin said.

“They haven’t replaced you,” Reylana replied. “The
army has grown, and other clans have to have their say. That’s all it is,
Reylin.”

“They don’t listen to me at all anymore. I’m
nothing to them.” He took a seat on a fallen log. “They’re going to let the
Na’zorans run them out of the Wildlands. We’ll have to hide across the river
like the Sycamore Clan.”

“That won’t happen,” she promised. “Not while I’m
alive, at least.” She sat next to her brother on the log and placed a hand on
his back. “You are a valuable member of our army,” she began. “Who knows where
we’d be if it wasn’t for your leadership in the beginning.”

“The others don’t see it that way,” he said. “From
now on, I’m going to do things my way whether anyone likes it or not. No one
has to follow me.”

“Get some rest,” Reylana suggested. “I think we’re
all exhausted.” She rose, leaving her brother alone with his thoughts. Heading
for one of the campfires, she happened to pass Lisalla. She paused and looked
at the woman as she sat motionless on the cold ground. “I’m getting something
to eat. Do you want anything?”

Lisalla looked away from her and did not speak.

“You haven’t eaten since your maid was killed,”
Reylana said. “Are you trying to follow her in death?”

Lisalla looked up at Reylana, her eyes cold. “What
does it matter now?”

“I’ll bring you some food, and you will eat it. If
you don’t, I’ll shove it down your throat. We need you alive.”

“Why?” Lisalla asked. “If the prince is like his
father, he won’t care whether I’m released.”

“No, but the king of Ra’jhou might care.” Reylana shrugged
and continued to the campfire.

Lisalla remained silent and stared into the
darkness. The moon glowed brightly overhead, and the chill of the night made
her shiver. Fighting back tears, she thought of Danna and the days they had
spent discussing frivolous matters such as weddings and shoes. Danna had
deserved more out of life, and Lisalla had many regrets. If only she had found
Danna a husband in Ra’jhou, she would still be alive. Lisalla could have easily
traveled without her.

She cursed her father for sending her through a
war zone. He must have known what was happening, but he did nothing to protect
his daughter. What was he doing now? Would he make any attempt to save her? The
uncertainty weighed heavily on her mind.

Closing her eyes, she wondered if anyone would
care if she died. Perhaps Reylin or one of the others would murder her and
leave her body lying in the woods until beasts scattered her to pieces and time
claimed the rest. It didn’t seem a fitting end for a princess, but that was her
reality. Aelryk would find a new bride, and she would be forgotten. Her life
had no purpose, and no one would mourn her passing. Unable to contain her
grief, she wept softly, her warm tears splashing against her cold flesh.
Winter’s wind swept over her, and she welcomed its cold embrace.