War Of The Wildlands(56)

“I need to borrow your hammer,” he replied.

“May I ask for what purpose?”

“I feel like breaking something!” The prince clenched his fists as he continued down the corridor. Exiting the palace, Mi’tal drew the hammer and offered it to the prince.

“Put it away,” the prince said, seeming calmer now that he was outside in the fresh air.

Mi’tal slipped the hammer back into its holster and said, “It is ever at your command, my lord.”

A young boy in peasant clothing approached the prince. Clearly out of breath, the boy had been running at top speed to deliver a message. “Your Majesty,” he said, panting. “Your Highness, I mean. I have a message from General Luca, sir, Majesty.” He leaned his hands on his knees and doubled over to catch his breath.

“What is it?” the prince asked, losing patience.

“A carriage, my lord, was found. The princess’s carriage. She is gone, my lord.”

“What do you mean? She was taken prisoner?”

“Yes, Your Majesty, sir. She was taken by elves. The other carriages were found north of Duana. Some of the drivers and guards were killed with elf arrows, sir.” The boy stood up straight again having recovered his breath. He spoke with his head bowed out of respect for the prince.

“Did General Luca send anyone to find her?”

“I, umm...” the boy began. “I don’t know, Majesty. He said to inform you right away. I’ve been running for two days with only an hour or two of sleep. I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t think to ask questions.”

“It’s not your fault, young man,” the prince said reassuringly. He gave the boy a few coins and turned to Mi’tal.

“We must find her,” he said. “I can only hope they’ve decided not to kill her since she was not found among the dead.”

“Perhaps they mean to use her as leverage,” Mi’tal suggested, smoothing his black hair with a gloved hand.

“We can only hope as much,” the prince replied. “I need you to find out where they’ve taken her. Do whatever you can to negotiate her release and secure peace with the elves. I will remain here to keep an eye on my father. I will do whatever it takes to prevent another massacre.”

“Of course, my lord. I will do what I can.” Mi’tal knew that this would be an incredibly dangerous mission. Assuming he managed to make it behind enemy lines without a dozen arrows in his heart, he had no idea if they would listen to reason. There were several clans scattered throughout the Wildlands, none of which had a village that was marked on any map. Every village the Na’zorans had known about had been destroyed. Unsure of where to begin looking, he proceeded to the stables to fetch his horse.

Instead of taking men along for the journey, Mi’tal decided it was best to travel alone. He would appear less of a threat if he was unaccompanied and bore a white banner of peace. Perhaps the elves would take pity on a man alone and hold their fire long enough for him to speak. His only regret was being too far from King Domren to assist the prince in ascending the throne. For now, his other plans would have to wait.





Chapter 34




Lisalla walked unbound at the head of the company next to Reylin. The elven army now numbered over twelve hundred strong. Luckily, the Mountain Clan warriors already possessed runed weapons, thanks to the skill of their clan’s rune carver. Every evening when the company stopped to rest, he worked diligently etching runes into the blades of the sword maidens or the tips of the archers’ arrows. In time, all of their weapons would carry the magical symbols that would sway the odds in their favor.

The forest remained frozen, locked in winter’s grasp. A few inches of crunchy snow blanketed the earth, preventing Lisalla’s feet from warming. She still wore the soft slippers she had brought from her homeland, and they provided little in the way of warmth. Hugging the fur blanket around her shoulders, she tried to focus on walking and forget her winter surroundings.

When they stopped for the night, Essa took out her broadsword and began polishing the blade. Sal, who had been admiring her at a distance, finally found the courage to approach her.

“That’s a fine blade,” he commented. Essa ignored him and continued to rub a cloth along the sword. Sal waited a moment and spoke again. “Are you going to have our rune carver etch it for you?”

“Maybe,” she replied, still looking at the blade.

Sal took a deep breath and let it out. He took a seat next to Essa and said, “We could die in battle tomorrow, you know. Would you like to mate tonight?”

“You could die today,” she replied, glaring at him and tightening her grip on her sword.