“Orzi, the court prophet, has already predicted your victory,” General Luca said. “As long as you leave today, you will be successful.”
“How comforting,” the prince replied sarcastically. “Father, I do not fear failing in battle. I simply don’t understand attacking these elves. Surely you don’t mean to extend our borders all the way to Al’marr.”
“I most certainly do!” the king shouted, unable to restrain his temper. He pounded a fist against the wooden table. “Do as I command!”
The prince stood and bowed. Without another word, he left the room and headed for the stables. He had no choice but to carry out his father’s orders. There was little doubt that his father would indeed have him thrown in the dungeons should he refuse to obey. If that were to happen, he would have no chance at negotiating peace.
Mi’tal was waiting for the prince just outside of the stables. “Your Highness,” he said as the prince approached. “I was given word a few hours ago to prepare your troops for battle. All the preparations have been made, and we await your orders.”
“How is it you knew of this before me?” the prince asked, obviously annoyed.
“I was told the order came from you,” Mi’tal replied, looking somewhat surprised. “A messenger from the palace visited me this morning saying you had commanded it.”
“That must have been from my father, then.” Aelryk shook his head, attempting to shake away the anger. He did not succeed. “He wants us to attack another clan of elves. This group is near Al’marr and has never been involved in an attack against Na’zorans.”
“What do you intend to do, my lord?” Mi’tal would follow any order his prince gave, but he hoped the prince would choose an attempt at negotiation. The prince was young and had so far been brave enough to speak with his father on the subject. Mi’tal hoped that one day the prince would find the courage to disobey the king and bring peace to the land.
“We don’t have much choice,” the prince replied. “If we don’t attack them, my father will probably have us both hanged for treason.”
“Would it be possible to attempt to speak with these elves first?” Mi’tal suggested.
“Once we enter their territory we can expect them to throw the first punch. They’re not going to allow an army to simply walk into their village. Though they have not yet become a part of it, they must be aware there is a war on their doorstep.”
“What of Al’marr, my lord? Might they see this attack as a threat to them as well?”
“The people of Al’marr only care for their spices and gemstones. We won’t be crossing their borders or harming their citizens, so I doubt they will take much notice. They don’t defend the elves near their lands.”
“Very well, my lord,” Mi’tal said. “Shall we prepare to leave?”
“Yes,” the prince replied. “When we are closer, you will order the men to split their forces. Half of them will remain behind along with the mages. I don’t want any more carnage than is necessary.”
“My lord, if we ride into their village with only a handful of troops, we are putting ourselves in very serious danger.”
“Don’t you think I realize that? These elves have so far avoided the war. My guess is they don’t want any part of it. They will only fight back if they are forced. We will show our strength and order them to flee. If they refuse, we will signal the rest of our army to attack.”
“As you command, my lord.” Mi’tal could not decide whether he liked this new plan or not. It would certainly save many innocent lives, but he would much rather make an attempt at peace. He pitied Aelryk that he should have such a father. It was proving a difficult task for the prince to serve the king and appease his own conscience at the same time.
Mi’tal followed only the prince. If Aelryk commanded him to disobey the king, he would do it without a second thought. Such an act would cost him his life, but he would die knowing that he had served his lord. The prince’s lord was King Domren, and Mi’tal understood why Aelryk would not fully defy him.
For the first time in his life, Mi’tal found himself wishing death on his own king. The prince was maturing, and he would soon be ready to lead his people. A better world was waiting for Na’zora, if only Domren were gone.
Chapter 27
Ten days of practice had given Yori the confidence to etch runes without his grandfather hovering over his shoulder. Every evening, he would study the scrolls, committing the runes to his memory. He had learned nearly a hundred words in the ancient elven tongue and how to properly etch them into a piece of metal. Some were used for strength or to affect the weight of weapons and armor, while others were used to add power such as fire or lightning to the blow of a sword. Never in his life had he imagined such a thing to be possible, yet here he was performing the magic himself.