“This was a massacre,” he said. “These people never stood a chance.”
Mi’tal inspected the fallen tree and marveled at the force necessary to bring it down. He was no fan of mages, but this feat was impressive. Beneath its massive trunk, he spied the arm of an elf. He moved in closer to see the face of Tod, the elf who had promised to deliver Aelryk’s message of peace. His heart dropped to the ground as he realized what must have happened. This elf had convinced his clan that Na’zora was ready to discuss peace, and they had felt safe leaving their village unprotected. Though he had not known of the king’s plan, he was overcome by guilt. Every death here was caused by his failed attempt at negotiating peace.
Returning to Aelryk’s side, he said, “These people wanted peace. They were willing to negotiate.”
“My father did this in retaliation for the orphaned children who came running into Duana a few days ago. The elves killed everyone in their town but spared the children.”
“That’s more than you can say for us,” Mi’tal commented, looking down at the crushed body of a trampled elf child. “Are we going to seek out their warriors, my lord?”
“My father is a coward for not seeking them out himself,” he replied. “I will not do it. Let them join forces with the other displaced elven warriors. That is their only chance of becoming a force worth fighting. My father will never yield if he thinks they are too weak to defend themselves.”
“How will we manage peace now?” Mi’tal asked.
Aelryk shook his head. “I fear this will escalate the war. I’m sure these elves will think we tricked them into complacency. They won’t make the same mistake again.”
“This was your father’s doing, not yours,” Mi’tal said. “I believe they are smart enough to realize that in time. Once their wrath has had some time to cool, they will think more clearly. All hope of peace may not be lost.”
“I hope you’re right, my friend.” Climbing back onto his horse, the prince led his men away from the ruined village. Instead of searching deeper into the Wildlands as his father had commanded, Aelryk decided to patrol along the border. He had no desire to fight the elves today, but he would not allow his own people to be massacred in retaliation. If only his father would allow him to negotiate peace, many innocent lives could be saved on both sides. Though he had tried to avoid admitting it to himself, the prince could no longer deny his true feelings. He despised his father and believed him unfit to rule. Na’zora was in more danger from its king than it ever was from any Wild Elves.
Chapter 22
A bright but cold morning arrived over the Sycamore Clan’s village. The entire clan was already stirring as the sun came up, and Yori felt more refreshed than he had in years. Sleeping in a hut under the forest canopy was good for his soul, and he enjoyed it in spite of the cold. His grandfather had already made his way to the forge, and Yori hurried to dress and join him.
“Good morning,” Darin said as Yori came into view.
“Good morning,” he replied, heading straight for the furnace. He checked the fire to be sure it was hot enough to begin working.
“Your cousin Lem tends to that,” Darin said with a smirk. “Looks like you already know more about smithing than he does.” The old elf chuckled while his apprentice stared blankly at him. “Come over here, Yori.”
Yori obeyed. On the workbench in front of him were several scrolls. Taking one and spreading it across the bench, Darin said, “You’re going to have to learn Ancient Elvish if you want to etch runes.” He pointed to the symbols on the scroll.
“You expect me to learn to read that?” Yori asked.
“Of course I do. It will be as easy as the first time you learned to read.”
“I never learned,” he replied.
“What do human mothers teach their children?” Darin asked, bewildered.
Yori gave it some thought and said, “I suppose she couldn’t teach me what she didn’t know herself. It’s not a necessary skill for common people in Na’zora.”
“Well, you’re going to learn Ancient Elvish. No one here speaks or reads it except me. They use it a lot in the Sunswept Isles, but they’re just a bunch of uppity bastards.”
Yori smiled, remembering how Atti had described the Enlightened Elves in a very similar fashion. “How long will it take me to learn?”
“Not long, I hope,” Darin replied. “Please tell me you’re smarter than this one.” He gestured his thumb at Lem, who was fighting with a pair of pliers. “While you’re at it, you can learn to read the common language too.”