“I’m Yori,” he replied.
“What’s got you heading south?” Atti asked.
“I was apprenticed to the blacksmith here, but he can’t afford to keep me. I thought I’d look for work someplace else.” Yori felt bad lying to the kind old man, but he certainly had no intention of telling him the true story.
“Looking for a little adventure as well, I’d guess,” Atti said, his dark eyes twinkling. “When you’re young there’s nothing better than going far from home and seeing the world. I’ve been all over Nōl’Deron myself. Nowadays I just travel from Na’zora to Al’marr and back. I just can’t move like I used to.”
The mules brayed again, wondering what was keeping the men so long. The two of them climbed onto the wagon seat and started down the road.
“So what kind of goods are you carrying?” Yori asked.
“Bits and pieces,” Atti replied. “There’s some pottery and cloth and other household goods. Time was I’d carry jewels and high value items. I just can’t defend them like I used to, though.”
“I’d want an armed escort for that,” Yori said, laughing.
“Back then you could borrow a few guards to travel with you. Now they’re all off fighting in a war.”
“What do you think of the war?” he asked curiously.
“It’s a damn shame. The elves make good trade. They give you a good deal, and they make high quality stuff. Now I have to pick that stuff up in Al’marr. They don’t allow the elves to trade in Na’zora anymore.”
“Do you know any elves in Al’marr?”
“I do, as a matter of fact,” Atti replied. “The Sycamore Clan is just outside the border near the Blue River, and they trade freely in Al’marr’s market cities. I’ve traded with them for more years than I can remember. Good people, those elves.”
Yori was astonished by this stroke of luck. Not only could this man tell him how to find the Sycamore Clan, he was taking him straight to a town where he might find some of the clan’s members. That sounded far better than wandering through the forest while trying to avoid being shot. He smiled to himself and relaxed in his seat.
Chapter 18
Reylin led the way as his clansmen journeyed north. The elderly and children along with their nursemaids had already been sent across the river, and now the clan’s warriors were on the move. Stealthily, they traveled near the Na’zoran border. Two scouts scanned the area ahead to be sure the path was safe. The rest of the group hung back among the dense foliage, their weapons constantly at the ready.
“Reylin,” a voice called. A young elf appeared suddenly, dropping from a branch high above. Lon was one of the clan’s bravest warriors, even at his young age of seventeen. “Not far to the east I saw a small village. There were no guards nearby, and the humans there did not seem like they were prepared for any kind of battle. It looks to be a town full of sheep and cloth weavers.”
“I could go for a little mutton,” Reylin said with a smirk. He signaled his troops to gather near him. Essa strode forward to stand at his side. “There’s a village nearby, and I say we raid it,” he said. “We can even earn ourselves a good amount of meat.”
“No killing children,” Essa declared, her voice adamant.
“I don’t give a damn what you do with the kids, Essa. Leave them to starve in the wilderness for all I care. They’re just going to grow up and kill us like their fathers do.”
“My sword maidens won’t fight if you don’t agree.” Essa looked around at the women, many of whom nodded in agreement.
Reylin looked around at the men and said, “We’ll spare them too if it will shut you up.”
Essa looked displeased but said nothing. The group set out following Lon eastward to the village.
Reylin observed the setting and decided that surrounding the village was going to be impossible. Much of the land sprawled eastward for miles. These were large, spacious farms, and there was no active center to the town. “Looks like we’ll just have to charge in,” he said. “The trees are too far back to offer cover while we shoot, and those people are never going to run within reach of our swords.”
Essa nodded in agreement. “Ready the charge, ladies,” she commanded.
The village was alive with movement. People were walking here and there tending to their farm chores while children played in the fields. The archers crept silently to the north and south sides of town, hoping to pick off any citizen who tried to flee. The farmers would most likely stand and fight as the sword maidens rushed the village.