War Of The Wildlands(46)

Lem stared at Yori, envying his cousin once again. Yori glanced at him, but looked away without saying a word. His first time with a woman had not gone quite how he had imagined it, but he had no complaints. Retrieving his chisel, he tried to go back to his work. After a few seconds, he looked up and asked, “What was her name?”

“Reylana,” Darin replied. The old man laughed and added, “Don’t expect her to be true to you. That just isn’t our way.”

Yori nodded and returned to his work.





Chapter 28




Three white carriages made their way along the road ahead of Reylin’s troops. Their scouts had noticed the carriages earlier that morning as they surveyed the path north to the Mountain Clan’s village. The carriages were nearing the border, and Reylin’s archers readied their bows to prevent their entry into Na’zora. Whoever was inside must be very important, and their deaths would send a loud message to King Domren.

The sword maidens crouched low behind the archers, readying themselves for the charge. The carriages were accompanied by a small unit of guards, but the elves had them vastly outnumbered. Still, the possibility of magefire existed, and they refused to take any chances with elven lives. They would play it safe and have everyone ready to join the fight if necessary.

As the carriages rounded a bend in the road, they finally came within range of the archers. In perfect unison, the elves lifted their bows, releasing their arrows into the chilled winter air. The drivers were struck, blood pouring from their necks. The lead driver had just enough time to halt his carriage before he toppled from his high seat and crashed to the road beneath him. The guards drew their swords and advanced on the woods. Hoping to save as many arrows as possible, the archers moved aside for the sword maidens.

Essa led her troops out of the thicket to engage the enemy. The guards charged at the maidens, attempting to trample them with their horses. The maidens, however, were more agile than the guards had expected. They dodged gracefully to each side until the horses had charged past them and broken their formation among the trees. Now, the maidens charged the mounted guards, slicing at their legs and thrusting their long broadswords into their midsections. Within minutes, the battle was ended with only a handful of elves having to participate. The rest watched silently, lusting for a battle of their own.

Reylin strode toward the rearmost carriage. Drawing his knife, he flung open the door and peered inside. No living thing occupied the carriage. It was filled with luggage and a few small pieces of furniture. Moving to the middle carriage, he flung open the doors as a frightened, dark-haired woman began screaming. He glanced over his shoulder to his archers and smirked.

“Hello, ladies,” he said. A second woman sat within, her expression was stern as if with courage. Her breathing, however, was easily noticeable as her chest rose and fell, revealing her fear. The other elves gathered closer to the carriage as Reylin reached in to grab the dark-haired woman by the arm. He pulled her roughly from the carriage, but he caught her as she nearly fell to the ground. She stared at him, her eyes full of fear as he reached in to grab the second woman.

Lisalla recoiled from Reylin’s touch, refusing to be dragged from the carriage. “I can remove myself from the carriage,” she said defiantly. With all the dignity she could muster, she exited the carriage and stood proudly before her captors. “I am Lisalla, Princess of Ra’jhou. I demand to speak with your leader.”

Most of the elves laughed, but Essa remained silent. She approached Lisalla and said, “You are a brave woman. Not many human women would have the courage to make demands. Most of you just cower and bawl like this one here.” She pointed to Danna, who was sobbing and shaking with fear.

“Danna is my maidservant. She isn’t accustomed to having her life threatened.” Lisalla did her best to maintain a calm, regal appearance. In reality, she was terrified of these elves and the fate that might await her. Poor Danna was already terrified out of her wits. Lisalla hoped that by maintaining her own composure, Danna would feel a small amount of comfort.

“I say kill them and send their pretty corpses back to their king,” Reylin suggested. “Na’zorans should know better than to travel this area without an army.”

“I am not Na’zoran,” Lisalla replied. With as much pride as she could muster, she said, “I am the daughter of King Olin of Ra’jhou. I am traveling to Na’zora to marry Prince Aelryk.” As soon as she spoke them, Lisalla regretted her words. In her pride, she had given her enemy a good reason to kill her.

“Perfect,” Reylin said with a smile.