War Of The Wildlands (7 page)

A
chill lingered
on the air as Yori arrived within sight of Enald. He stood at the edge of the
village and sighed quietly to himself. He was not looking forward to telling
Meladee that he would be leaving for good. Those soulful eyes of hers would no
doubt leave him feeling entirely guilty. She would not understand that he had
no choice in the matter. All she would know was that her dearest friend was
abandoning her for good.

Mustering his courage, he continued into the
village and through the streets until he came at last to Ren’s smithy. Stepping
inside, he heard his uncle say, “Welcome back. You were gone a bit longer than
I expected.”

Meladee rushed at him, throwing her arms around
his waist. “Where were you?” she asked accusingly.

Yori knelt to her level and took her little hands
in his. “I’m sorry I didn’t come back right away,” he said.

“You must have met a girl,” Ren said, grinning.

“Sort of,” Yori replied, his gaze falling to the
floor.

Ren noticed the change in Yori’s expression and
asked, “Did something happen?”

Yori was silent for a moment but finally answered,
“Yes, something did.” He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly before
continuing. “I did meet a girl, but when she found out I was an elf, she had me
thrown in the dungeons. The prince himself released me on the condition I find
my father’s clan and learn to etch runes. He wants me to work for him.”

Ren stood in stunned silence. This news was a bit
much to swallow all at once. Not only would he be losing his apprentice, but
the young man was setting out on a quest to fulfill the wishes of a prince. It
sounded far-fetched and highly improbable. Why would the prince take an
interest in a half-breed peasant?

“The prince, you say,” Ren began. “He is
personally sending you on a mission?”

“Yes,” Yori replied. “The sword you sent me to
deliver was for him. It was a gift. Lieutenant Perrin introduced me to the
prince, and when I got into trouble, the prince himself let me out of the
dungeons.”

Ren stared at him in disbelief. He wondered
briefly if the young man had suffered a head injury. Yori knew nothing of his
father’s clan or of runes. He did not even know that his father had in fact
been a very skilled rune carver.

“What do you know of your father and his clan?”
Ren asked.

“Very little,” Yori replied. “I know he was from
the Sycamore Clan, and he traded goods here in Enald where he met my mother.
That’s about it.”

“He was a rune carver,” Ren stated flatly. “King
Domren had insisted he come to work for him, but your father refused. He would
not craft weapons that would be used against his people. His refusal is what
got him killed.”

Yori silently absorbed the information his uncle
had given him. He was not aware that the king had any knowledge of his father,
or that he had demanded his father’s services as a weapon maker. Until now, he
had not even known his father was a smith.

Ren spoke again despite Yori’s silence. “How could
the prince have known this when you didn’t?”

Shaking his head, Yori replied, “I don’t think he
knew it at all. He complimented my work on the hilt of his sword and said I
would make a good rune carver. Until he found me in the dungeons, he had no
idea I had elven blood.”

“You did excellent work on the sword, Yori. You
will make an exceptional rune carver one day. I only hope you are able to find
your father’s people in the Wildlands. It isn’t safe to travel there, and I
can’t give you any information as to their whereabouts.”

Yori handed his uncle the purse full of coins the
lieutenant had paid him for the sword. Ren accepted the purse and handed a few
of the coins back to Yori. “The elves don’t deal in coin, but you’ve earned a
share of the profits.”

Yori accepted the coins gratefully. “Thank you, Uncle.”

Meladee, who had been observing their conversation
in silence, suddenly began to sob. “You can’t go away,” she said through her
tears. “Don’t leave, Yori.”

Yori knelt once more to comfort the girl. “I have
to,” he began. “When the prince tells you to do something, you have to do it.
That’s just how it works, Meladee.” His green eyes looked at her apologetically.
She did not understand. All she knew was that her best friend was leaving her,
probably forever.

Trella returned to the smithy, a basket filled
with cloth in her hands. Her eyes went immediately to the sobbing young girl.
Giving Ren an accusing glance, she reached down and picked her up. “What’s
wrong, my darling girl?” she asked. “Mama will make it better.”

“Yori’s leaving again,” Meladee squeaked, burying
her face into her mother’s shoulder.

“You’ve only just returned,” Trella said, looking
at Yori.

“I know,” he replied, “but I can’t stay. I have
business to attend to on behalf of the prince.”

Trella’s mouth dropped open slightly as she heard
his words. “Will you at least be staying for dinner?” she asked. “This business
can wait until the morning, surely.”

“Of course,” Yori replied, sounding relieved. He
was glad Trella didn’t ask for more of an explanation. In many ways she
reminded him of his mother, and he did not want to tell her he had just been
thrown in prison. Even if he had not truly committed a crime, he still felt too
ashamed to express those words to his aunt.

“It looks like the prince has provided you with
some fine garments,” Trella commented. She reached out to touch the sleeve of
Yori’s shirt. “This is very fine indeed. Look at this, Meladee. This is a rich
man’s clothing.” The little girl lifted her face from her mother’s shoulder and
stared at Yori. “You see, sweet girl, he has a very important friend, and he
has to leave us in order to serve him. It is a great honor, and we must be brave
and let him go.” She kissed the girl on her cheek.

Meladee nodded and her tears began to slow. Her
mother always knew just what to say to make her feel better.

“I’ll get dinner started,” Trella said. “Don’t
stay too late,” she added, looking at Ren. She retrieved her basket and carried
Meladee back to their home.

“I’m going to miss having your help around here,”
Ren said. “You do fine work.”

Yori smiled nervously and nodded. Ren rarely gave
compliments, but his words were always sincere. He wondered if his uncle ever
thought of him as a son rather than just an apprentice. Having never known his
real father, Ren was the closest thing he had to one.

Tonight would be his last night among his human
family. If he managed to find his father’s clan, he hoped they would accept
him. There were many questions they could answer for him regarding his father.
Yori knew next to nothing about him and wondered what kind of person he had
been. Perhaps they even had a few things in common. With luck, he might survive
the Wildlands long enough to find out.

L
isalla stood on
her balcony gazing at the Wrathful Mountains. This spectacular view had greeted
her every day since she was born, and now she was preparing to leave it behind.
The mountains stood tall and proud in the distance as she peered at the mist
that hid the white caps from view and wondered what life on a mountaintop must
be like. A sense of freedom came over her as she pictured herself high in the
mountains, looking down upon the clouds. Closing her eyes, she tried to embed
the image to her memory in case she was never able to return.

Soon, Lisalla would be leaving to meet her
husband. Prince Aelryk of Na’zora was described as strikingly handsome as well
as good-natured. Her excitement over her upcoming marriage was marred only by
the fact that she had to leave her home. In her dreams, a prince had always
traveled to Ra’jhou to marry her and take over her father’s throne. In reality,
she would have to travel to a land she had never even visited and someday
become their queen.

“My lady,” Danna said as she walked out onto the
balcony. “You still haven’t decided on a wedding gown. Most of your things are
packed, and we really should bring wedding clothes with us. Your father says
the ceremony will take place immediately.”

Lisalla smiled at her maid and asked, “Are your
things prepared as well?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the young woman replied. “It’s you
I’m concerned about.”

“I’ll choose something,” Lisalla said with a sigh.
“I just don’t understand why we have to be married so quickly. I want some time
to know my husband before we wed.”

“I’m afraid that isn’t how things work for
royalty,” Danna said sympathetically.

“Maybe we can have more fun finding you a
husband,” Lisalla said, playfully tugging at Danna’s long dark hair.

Danna blushed and pushed her hair back over her
shoulders. “I think that’s going to have to wait a while,” she said.

“Come and sit with me,” Lisalla said, pulling on
Danna’s arm. The two sat together at the intricate metal table near the
balcony’s railing. Lisalla closed her eyes and turned her face to the wind, her
blonde ringlets dancing lazily on the breeze. Taking in a deep breath, the
crisp mountain air filled her lungs. The days were growing shorter and the air
cooler, but winter would not dampen her spirits. Her life was changing, and she
was determined that it be for the better.

“Tell me about Na’zora, Danna. Have you ever been
there?”

“No, my lady,” Danna said. “I hear it is a very
nice kingdom, and the palace overlooks the sea. The weather is a bit warmer
there, and it doesn’t snow as frequently as it does here. The summers can be
very hot and humid, though.” Danna thought for a few seconds and added, “I hear
the food is very good.”

Lisalla laughed. “Who can think of eating when wedding
nerves set in?” she asked. “My main concern is whether this prince will like
me.”

“He will love you from the moment he sees you,”
Danna replied. “He is said to be very handsome, and you will have beautiful
children together.”

“Let’s go and look at those gowns shall we?”
Lisalla stood, followed by Danna. They passed through Lisalla’s spacious
bedroom and out into the palace corridor. Their footsteps echoed along the
brightly polished marble floors. Descending the stairs, Lisalla took her maid’s
arm and leaned in close. Whispering, she said, “What color do you think the
prince would like?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know, my lady,” Danna replied.

They continued walking arm in arm until they
reached the dressmaker’s quarters. Lisalla’s mother was extremely passionate
about her wardrobe and insisted a royal dressmaker be kept on staff at all
times. She was given elaborate quarters next to the queen’s own chambers and
was on call at all hours. Four sewing assistants were also housed in servant
quarters adjoining the royal dressmaker’s rooms. When the queen demanded a
gown, she did not like to wait long for its completion.

Stepping inside the brightly lit room, the girls
finally let go of each other.

The royal dressmaker greeted them warmly. “Welcome,
Your Highness,” she said. “Please, have a seat. I will bring out the gowns I
have prepared.”

Clapping her hands together, the dressmaker
summoned her assistants. Seeing that the princess had come, they darted off to
retrieve the gowns. Within seconds, several elegant gowns of varying colors
were presented before her. “Do you have a specific color in mind?” the woman
asked.

Lisalla glanced at Danna and smiled. “Not yet,”
she said.

The servants laid the gowns on a large wooden
table that had been covered with a blue velvet cloth. The room had several
windows, allowing a good amount of light to fall on the garments. Lisalla began
inspecting each gown and running her fingers over the fabric. Danna followed
suit with a dreamy look in her dark eyes.

Lisalla moved rather quickly through the dresses
until she came to a simple lavender gown. “This one,” she said, stroking the
fine lace that adorned the dress. “I like this one.”

“My lady that one is too plain for a wedding,” the
dressmaker said. “The girls shouldn’t have brought that one.” She gave a severe
look to her servants, who bowed their heads apologetically.

“No, it’s perfect,” the princess insisted. “I can
see it isn’t quite finished, but this is my dress.” She lifted it from the
table and held it in front of her. Her bright blue eyes and pale skin were
accentuated by the lavender hue of the fabric, and her blonde ringlets cascaded
on top of the lace, emphasizing the two distinct colors.

Danna gasped as she looked upon her friend. “It’s
so beautiful on you,” she said as tears filled her eyes. “You look like a
bride.”

Lisalla smiled warmly and asked, “How soon can you
have this finished?”

“An hour, my lady,” the dressmaker replied. “Do you
have any special requests for it?”

“Can you weave some silver threads through the
lace to give it a bit of sparkle? Also add some small pearls, since I’ll be
living near the ocean.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” the woman said,
bowing.

Lisalla handed the gown over to one of the servant
girls and again grabbed Danna’s arm. “We need shoes now, don’t we? Let’s go and
visit the shoemaker in the marketplace.”

“My lady, we don’t have time to go all the way to
the market. You have to be ready to leave by morning.”

“Your Highness,” the dressmaker said. “I can have
satin shoes with lace trim ready for you as well. They will match the dress
perfectly.”

Lisalla tried to hide her disappointment. “That
will do nicely. Thank you.” She regretted that she wouldn’t have one last
chance to visit the marketplace. Shopping was one of her favorite activities.
She loved to see all the new items from across the seas. It brought to her mind
images of far-off lands where the items had been crafted. She doubted she would
ever travel to those places, but having small pieces of those lands brought to
her was enough to satisfy her thirst for adventure.

The girls returned to Lisalla’s room where Danna
began hurriedly packing more of the princess’s belongings. Lisalla sat on a
cushioned chair facing a large window.

“I hope my prince likes lavender,” she said.

“When he sees you in that dress, it will become
his favorite color,” Danna replied.

Lisalla couldn’t help but laugh. She was growing
more and more excited and also a bit nervous.
Tomorrow I will leave my home,
and in a week I will meet my future husband.
“I hope you are right about
everything, Danna.”