War Of The Wildlands(50)
“I have come at the command of my father King Domren, but I will not fulfill his wishes. I would have the continuation of peace between Na’zora and the Sycamore Clan.”
“You have a strange way of showing it,” the Overseer said, looking up and down the ranks of the prince’s army.
“Forgive my intrusion, Overseer,” the prince said. “I did not know what awaited me in the Wildlands, and it is not safe to travel without an escort.”
“This is much more an army than an escort,” he replied. “You are bringing war upon us.”
Reylana listened closely from the trees, focusing her eyes on the mages. At the slightest movement from one of them, she would order the archers to attack.
“I have come to issue you an order,” the prince continued. “You must vacate this village and move across the Blue River. There you will find safety from my father and his war. If you do not agree, he will send another army to annihilate you. I am giving you the chance to live in freedom and will do everything in my power to stop my father from ever crossing the river.”
“Even if we agree, you cannot guarantee our safety?” The Overseer was clearly shaken by the choice before him.
“I do not control my father,” Aelryk said, “but I will not allow him to send troops across the river. He plans to extend Na’zora’s borders all the way to its eastern bank, and any elves in his path will be killed. Your only hope is to cross the river.”
“How do I know we won’t be attacked as we leave?”
“My father has sent me to kill you. He will not send more troops until well after I’ve returned. You have plenty of time to move your people, and I will tell him that I found a deserted village where you once lived. That should satisfy his desire to clear the Wildlands of the elven presence.”
“You would lie to your own father on our behalf? What sort of man does that make you?”
“I am the sort of man who would do what is right. I have no desire to continue this war. Na’zora has several new farming villages outside of her original borders. We do not need your land. You have my word on that. When I am king, there will be peace.”
The elves remained silent, looking to their Overseer to decide their fate. Yori and Darin still stood near the forge, exchanging glances as the prince spoke. They could not believe the prince was defying his own father to spare the elves.
After a moment’s consideration, the Overseer replied, “We will leave this land to preserve the lives of my people. I will expect you to keep your word once you are king.”
Aelryk signaled his troops to move out. He had no intention of watching the elves to be sure they left the area. His job was complete, and he had avoided any killing.
Mi’tal considered once more the idea of Aelryk as king. If the prince did not believe Na’zora needed any more land, then there was no reason to continue the war. So far, only the Silver Birch Clan had been displaced to build the farming villages, and they might settle for other compensation. The rest of the clans could rebuild their villages where they had once stood. As he thought of the lives needlessly lost, his hand tightened on the handle of his war hammer. A vision of King Domren’s funeral filled his mind.
Chapter 31
At the base of the Wrathful Mountains lay the village of the Mountain Clan. As he scouted far ahead of the warriors, Reylin scanned the trees for any sign of elven life. Glimpsing a slight movement on a high branch, he called, “Hello, there. I am Reylin of the Oak Leaf Clan. My kinsmen and I are seeking the Mountain Clan.”
The branch swayed again as a young, silver-haired elf climbed down. “Greetings, Reylin. I am Sal of the Mountain Clan. What brings you so far north?”
“There is a war in our homeland,” Reylin replied. “Many clans of the Wildlands have been displaced. We come seeking allies.”
Sal nodded, understanding Reylin’s plight. “I’ve heard nothing of the war, but we have little to do with any outsiders. News does not travel well here, I’m afraid. Come with me and speak to our Overseer.”
“I’ve brought a large number of warriors with me. Should I tell them to wait here?”
“No, they can come as well. We may not be able to feed everyone, but they are all welcome in our village.”
Reylin and Sal moved quickly through the forest to locate the rest of the group. Essa stood at the front, watching as the elves approached.
“This is Essa, leader of the sword maidens,” Reylin said.
“Well met, Sister.”
Sal openly admired Essa’s figure with his eyes. Essa, however, did not return the sentiment. Mountain Clan elves have paler skin than those of the woods, and if Sal represented the other males of the village, they must be even shorter than the males of her own clan. His clear blue eyes were rather fetching, but she had more important matters on her mind.