War Of The Wildlands (2 page)

R
eylin proudly
entered the Overseer’s hut, followed by his troop of archers. His twin sister
glared at him with her hazel eyes and shook her head as he passed by. He shot a
devilish grin at her and continued walking until he stood before the Overseer.

“Explain,” the Overseer
demanded. His dark eyes stared intently at the young elf.

“We put a few holes
in the city of Enald,” Reylin said. “That’s all.” He casually ran his fingers
through his red hair as he spoke.

“The entire clan
needs to be informed before a raid is carried out. We cannot afford to split up
the troops we have. Who would have protected us had we been attacked while you
were away?”

“The sword
maidens,” he replied. “My sister would have protected you personally.” Reylin
laughed along with several members of his troop. The Overseer had been far too
passive in their fight against the humans, and Reylin was not going to miss the
opportunity to insult him.

“This won’t be
tolerated,” the Overseer replied. “We must stand together or not at all. You
should visit our kin of the Silver Birch Clan and discuss joining our efforts.
They have more elves than we do, and we will be more efficient fighters if we
join forces.”

“I’ll consider it,”
Reylin replied. With those words, he turned and exited the hut, grabbing his
sister’s arm on the way out. He led her away from the hut and stopped when he
had reached the farthest edge of the village.

“You can’t keep
going off on your own,” she said. “You’re going to get yourself killed, and
then where will we be?”

“Relax, Reylana,”
he began. “No one even saw us. We shot a few arrows and kept going. We probably
didn’t even kill any of them.”

“Then you’re
wasting arrows,” she said seriously. Her auburn hair caught the sun’s rays and
flashed red, reflecting her mood. She loved her twin brother, but he could be
very difficult to understand at times. “We should plan a proper raid that
includes archers and sword maidens alike.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he
replied, his tone mocking.

“I’m serious,” she
replied hotly, looking down at her brother. “You men aren’t the only ones who
can fight. You’re just the only ones who can fight and hide at the same time.
You can send them running and we’ll be there to stop them.”

Reylin paused for a
moment and thought. “That’s actually a good idea, Sis,” he said. “We can attack
one of their farming villages from the tree line and you and your girls can be
waiting on the other side. Nothing sends a message to your enemy like
slaughtering a village full of fleeing cowards.”

“It’s no less than
they’ve done to us. Entire clans have been wiped out. Every week new elves are
finding their way here to join up with us. There are no clans now within a
day’s walk of Na’zora.”

“If we can manage
to win this war there won’t be a Na’zora. I’d like to see that king’s head
mounted above my hut.” Reylin’s tone was serious. He hated the Na’zorans as
well as all other humans. They were responsible for the death of his parents
along with countless other elves. His kinsmen were constantly being pushed
deeper into the Wildlands and away from their traditional homes. The humans did
not care whether they were able to adapt. They would prefer if all elves were
wiped out permanently.

“I’ll gather some
of the women so we can start planning,” Reylana said before hurrying away. She
glanced back at her brother, who had gone over to speak with his troops. He was
a hothead for sure, but she knew his actions were carried out with the best
intent. He had only gone to Enald to frighten its citizens and let them know
that the elves of the woods would fight back to protect their homes. They were
sick of being bullied by Na’zora’s king, and they would do whatever was
necessary to defend their right to exist.

Seated on a log
bench at the center of town was Essa, the leader of the Oak Leaf Clan’s sword
maidens. “Essa,” Reylana called as she spotted the dark-haired elf. “I need to
talk with you.”

Essa had been busy
polishing the blade of her broadsword when Reylana approached. She put the
blade away and eyed her cautiously. “What are you up to?” she asked
suspiciously.

Reylana laughed and
said, “You know me. When have I ever been up to anything bad? Come with me.
We’re going to discuss plans to attack one of the human farming villages.”

Essa joined her
friend as they walked back to Reylin’s small hut. Several men were already
inside, noisily sharing their ideas.

“Ok, everybody shut
up,” Reylin said loudly as his sister entered. “Let’s see what the ladies have
to say.”

“Nothing much,
really,” Reylana began. “Essa leads the sword maidens for our clan, so I’ll let
her do the talking.”

“First of all,”
Essa said, “I want to know what village and when. Secondly, I want to know why
you went out today without consulting me? We’d have been happy to come along
and chop a few heads.”

“It was just a small
scare tactic, Essa,” Reylin said, rolling his hazel eyes. “Don’t act so left
out. You’re as bad as my sister. Sometimes you should just let the men handle
it.”

“You can handle it
all you want,” Essa remarked. “But when it comes to fighting, you should let
the women take charge. We know attack plans better than those who hide in the
trees. We’re at the front of the line. You men are just our backup.”

Men began shouting
and arguing at her words. They were offended by her comment, and they wanted to
let her know it. Wild Elf men generally stand a head shorter than the women,
allowing them greater stealth when moving through the trees. Neither sex,
however, is any less fierce than the other.

“Quiet!” Reylin
shouted. “She’s just trying to get under our skin. She’s ticked that we didn’t
let Her Majesty come with us. We’re big boys, Essa. We do what we want. Next
time, we’ll work together, ok?”

Essa nodded and
took a seat at the small dining table at the back of the room. Reylin and
Reylana both sat as well. A small hand-drawn map of the area was laid out on
the table. From this map, they would determine which village had the best
layout for them to attack with stealth. The women would need to be concealed
until the men could force the villagers in their direction. Then, when there
was no chance of escape, the women would attack. No one would be left alive.
Domren’s men had been ruthless in their attacks on the elves. No elf had been
spared for any reason, and the elves were most willing to retaliate in the same
fashion. The time for small skirmishes was coming to an end. A war was about to
begin.

K
ing Domren
shifted anxiously on his horse as he peered deep into the woods. “Do you think
Aelryk’s men are in position?” he asked.

“Until Mi’tal makes
his way here, we have no way of knowing,” General Luca replied. His gray eyes
were stern, his passion for battle ever-present on his face.

“He should have
been here by now. I don’t like waiting.” The king let out a heavy sigh and
clenched his teeth. His dark eyes focused into the trees, hoping to catch any sign
of movement. Wild Elves are masters of stealth within the forests, and he
wondered if he was already being watched.

From behind, he
heard a horse approaching. He turned his head to see Mi’tal coming up from the
rear of his company. The young, black-haired man hurried past the soldiers and went
straight to the king.

“Majesty,” he said,
“Aelryk and his men are in position and are awaiting your lead.”

“Finally,” the king
said. He raised an arm and motioned his troops to follow. Drawing their
weapons, they charged into the thick forest. The Silver Birch Clan was about to
experience the king’s wrath.

As they entered the
village, they showed no signs of slowing. The surprised elves were sent fleeing
in all directions. Many were trampled by the horses and several others were cut
down as they ran. Women and children were not spared, nor were elderly clansmen
who could not possibly offer a fight. The warriors rushed to their huts to
retrieve their weapons. They had been given no sign their village would be
attacked, and they had not been prepared for battle.

Mages at the rear
of the company began firing off spells. Most of them cast fireballs at the huts,
while others fired energy blasts to knock the fleeing elves off balance. Those
who managed to get to a weapon were quickly dispatched by the energy blasts,
dropping their weapons as they fell. The elves who did not find their feet
quickly were trampled by the horses as they charged. Within minutes, the first
village lay in ruins.

Domren’s troops
rode on toward the second village. It was larger, but with Aelryk’s company
charging from the opposite end, there was little chance of encountering any
significant resistance. The elves had been alerted by the cries coming from the
neighboring village, but that had also signaled Aelryk to begin the attack. He
was young and had little experience in battle, but he was obedient and very capable
of following the orders his father had given him.

Arrows whizzed from
the highest branches, shot by the few elves who had managed to make it to the
trees. Their swordswomen dodged the horses as they charged past at full speed.
Foot soldiers were no match for mounted cavalry. Many of them began to run into
the woods as well. Domren smiled to himself to see the bravest among the elves
fleeing. He hoped to continue the attacks until every Wild Elf was driven to
the far side of the Blue River or killed. He did not care whether they had to
be annihilated or left willingly. His mission was to expand his kingdom, and
the elves were in his way.

The mages began
setting fire to the huts in this village as well. They tossed their fireballs
casually and sipped at their potions as if they hadn’t a care in the world. Human
mages do not regenerate their power naturally. Instead, they rely on a steady
supply of potions to continue being useful in combat. The mages enjoyed testing
their prowess in battle, as they normally sat around discussing magical theory
and practicing little tricks to amuse the nobles. Today, they were proving
their worth to their king, and they were making it look like child’s play.

Once the second
village lay in ruins, Aelryk came riding up to his father. The two men were
similar in appearance, both with dark hair and eyes. Aelryk, however, stood
half a foot taller and had a far more pleasing countenance than his father.

“Good morning,
Father,” he said. “It seems everything has gone to plan.”

“It has,” Domren
replied. “You have done well for your first true battle. Gather your men and
we’ll head back to the palace.”

Aelryk did as he
was commanded, and the company set off eastward, leaving the smoking villages
behind them. Mi’tal rode next to Aelryk at the front of the company. Before his
death, Mi’tal’s father had been charged with the personal safety of King
Domren. Mi’tal had taken it upon himself to act as a protector for the young
prince. He could be impulsive at times, and Mi’tal had always been there to
pull the prince back in his anger. Usually it was just a petty argument over some
minor insult. Today, however, marked a new chapter in the prince’s future. He
would be riding into battle regularly, and Mi’tal planned to be there to
protect him, even if it cost him his life.

“Well done today,
my lord,” Mi’tal said, his brown eyes sincere.

Aelryk nodded. “Father
had everything set up very well. I would have been an idiot to mess it up.
Nonetheless, I thank you for the compliment.” Aelryk grinned at his friend, and
the two of them laughed.

“Soon you will be
planning your own strategies,” Mi’tal commented. “You will make a fine war
leader. Your men love you, and they will fight for you no matter the cost.”

Aelryk considered
the notion for a moment. He was young, but he wanted to be fair with his troops
and gain their respect. His father ruled using fear, and everyone jumped at his
command. He wasn’t sure if that was the kind of commander he wanted to be.

Normally, his
father would bark commands at him without expressing any gratitude once his
wish had been fulfilled. Aelryk believed in discipline, of course, but his
father’s manner was a little rougher than his own. It was not in his nature to
be cruel. He preferred to treat others with the respect they had earned, and if
someone needed to be punished, it should be done with fairness. Justice was not
in his father’s vocabulary. Trials were held for show when a noble was accused.
Anyone else could only hope for a swift, painless execution. Most were not that
lucky.

When it came to the
elves, King Domren was unwavering. He wanted them either exterminated or moved
as far away as possible. Aelryk had not yet mentioned his thoughts on diplomacy
to his father, but he hoped to have the opportunity soon. Today’s show of
strength should convince the elves to accept the king’s terms. If he could
convince his father to let him speak with the elven leaders, perhaps more
battles could be avoided. The elves would certainly wish to retaliate, and
Aelryk did not like the idea of his citizens being slaughtered. He was determined
to bring the idea to his father as soon as he found the opportunity-and the
courage as well.