War Of The Wildlands(58)

“If I send this girl with a message, will she return with an army?”

“She will do exactly as I tell her,” Lisalla replied. “She is my loyal servant.”

“Yes, but if your father commands differently, she will have no choice but to obey. Perhaps it’s better to bargain you to your prince.”

“I am told he is an honorable man, but we have never met. Again, I do not know what he would give for my life.”

“Maybe I should kill you both and be done with it,” Reylin said casually. “I’ll decide in the morning.” Without another word, he walked away leaving Lisalla and Danna to ponder their fate.

Lisalla’s heart sank, knowing that she had failed in her attempt to free Danna. She doubted Reylin would choose to send the girl as a messenger when there was a chance she could send back an army to attack them. He would not want their exact location known, and in order to negotiate, someone would have to be able to find them. She regretted being born a princess who was not allowed to learn about war and politics. She was only expected to know how to dress in the latest fashions and how to please her husband. It was truly a waste to teach a daughter such things. She vowed to herself she would teach her own daughters better, should she survive to bear children. Elven women were fighters, and human woman could learn to fight as well.





Chapter 35




As dawn arrived over the new Sycamore village, Yori packed up his few belongings. His worn-out knapsack had been replaced by a sturdy, oiled-leather bag crafted by the hands of his elven kin. He rolled up his animal skin clothes and placed them inside the bag. Today, he would wear the green shirt the prince had given him in an effort to blend in with the humans of Al’marr. They were more accepting of elves than the Na’zorans, but he was going to seek passage on one of their ships. He did not know how readily an elf would be taken on board, so he planned to keep his ears covered once he reached Marrel.

“Stay safe,” his grandfather said as he prepared to leave the hut. “You’re always welcome here.” He grabbed Yori and hugged him tightly.

Taking a deep breath, Yori turned and slipped out the door. Once again, he hoped to avoid a long goodbye. It was already hard enough to leave, and he was still unsure he had made the right decision not to join the other elves in battle. Later in life he may come to regret it, but his plan was to focus on today. Perhaps he would learn something in the Sunswept Isles that he could share to better the lives of the Wild Elves.

Several rafts sat idly on the west bank. Yori chose the smallest one to carry him back across the river. Though he intended not to look into the water’s depths again, he thought he heard a voice coming from the blue. Peering over the edge of the raft, he looked down into the deep blue river. A silver mist danced and twinkled amidst the blue, but it took on no discernable shape. The voice faded, leaving only the sound of the rushing water to fill his ears.

He knelt on the raft and shoved the oar deeply into the rocks below to stop its motion. Leaning in close to the water’s surface, he quietly asked, “Is there someone there?” He waited and heard no response. Rising back to his feet, he began paddling once again toward the east bank. Without warning, a fountain of water shot up next to him, sprinkling him with water. He thought it surprisingly warm, considering the season. A blue light encompassed his raft, and he gasped in surprise. Though he had stopped paddling, the raft continued steadily toward the east bank and stopped gently when it reached land. The blue light faded away.

Yori climbed onto the shore and looked back at the river. He saw a silver light dance upon its surface for a moment before descending back into the depths. Had the River God blessed his journey? Perhaps the god had wanted him to make it safely to the other side, but for what purpose he did not know. Perhaps it approved of the choice he had made, or perhaps it thought him a coward and wanted him to leave. Yori couldn’t be sure.

“Thank you,” he said to the river. “I hope you will watch over my people while I’m away. They may need your help.” A second fountain of water shot up from the center of the river, sprinkling water droplets in every direction. Yori smiled and felt a sense of peace. Surely this god was watching out for the Sycamore Clan.

The forest was still dark, its thick branches allowing very little light to seep through from the overcast sky. A few unseen critters scampered beneath the rotting leaves as he made his way through the trees. Before reaching the edge of the woods, he turned and stared back in the direction of the river. He wanted to freeze the image of the forest in his mind to keep with him on his journey.