War Of The Wildlands(65)

“You should have killed that man,” Reylin continued. “Now he knows we are led by a weak woman.”

Without hesitation, Essa slapped Reylin hard across his face. “I am not weak. You have no sense when it comes to leadership. All you see is killing.”

“You’re exactly right,” he replied. “All Na’zorans deserve death.” He marched over to the captive women and grabbed Danna by her hair. As Lisalla screamed in horror, he dragged the dark-haired woman to the center of camp and slit her throat as she cried out. Her limp body fell to the earth, her blood staining the snow beneath her.

Lisalla ran to her maid’s body and wept. “How could you be so evil?” she shot at Reylin. “She was no threat to you.”

He grabbed Lisalla, his hand clutching her throat. Before he could make another move, Essa grabbed him from behind and yelled “Stop!” Once he was safely away from Lisalla, she released him. Hundreds of elves gathered around to witness the spectacle. “If you kill this one, the prince will never forget it. There will never be peace.”

“We won’t need their peace once they’re all dead,” Reylin spat.

Reylana approached her brother and softly placed a hand on his arm. “Come and talk with me, Brother,” she said. The two moved deeper into the forest, leaving the others to tend to the captives.

“She had no right to release that man,” Reylin began. “Where were you?” He stopped walking and stared at his sister.

“I was next to her,” she replied. “I did not agree, but she is my commander. She gives the orders.”

“If you know better than her, then you don’t have to listen. You should have killed him yourself.”

“Listen to what you’re saying,” she said. “Our clan works together, and we respect those who are in charge. Essa leads the sword maidens of the combined clans. The women trust her judgment, as do many of the men.”

“She’s wrong,” he replied.

“She may be wrong, but I respect her decision. If she is right, her actions will bring about peace in the future.”

“We can bring peace by ridding ourselves of the Na’zorans.” Reylin’s anger was finally beginning to subside a bit.

“That wouldn’t bother me one bit, but I think it may be more than we can handle. They still outnumber us, and they still have those damned mages.”

“We need to plan another raid now that we have better weapons,” he suggested. “We don’t want them to see us as weak.”

“I agree,” Reylana replied. “There are other clans among us now, though. We have to make sure everyone is in agreement.”

Together they returned to the camp, their feet crunching the frozen snow beneath them. Essa still stood near Lisalla, watching Reylin closely as he approached.

“We want to plan a raid now that we have better weapons,” Reylana informed her.

“That’s a good idea,” Essa replied.

“What, you don’t want to wait for peace?” Reylin said mockingly.

“I said I would negotiate peace once Domren is dead. While he lives, I will continue the fight. I won’t hide in the woods until he comes for me.” She glared at Reylin as she spoke.

In an effort to calm the situation, Reylana said, “We’re all in agreement then. Let’s talk with some of the other clans as well.”

Essa nodded. At the western edge of camp another disturbance was taking place. Hearing the commotion, the three raced to the scene. An Oak Leaf scout was returning to camp, followed by a large group of elven warriors. The clans across the river had come to join the fight.

The fair-haired scout led the group to Essa and Reylin with a smile on his face. “These are warriors from the River Clan and the Willow Clan. They’ve come to help us fight.”

Reylana’s face broke into a smile as she grabbed the scout and hugged him. Releasing him, she stared out into the crowd of elves. Hundreds had come to join the fight. The elven army now numbered over two thousand strong.

“Fetch the rune carver,” Reylin told the scout. “He’s got a lot of work to do.”





Chapter 39




The stars shone bright silver against the black sky as Yori stared up at the heavens. The ship would arrive at the Sunswept Isles by morning, and he was enjoying the fine weather as he sailed. The closer they came to the isles, the warmer the weather became. Winter, it seemed, held no sway over islands full of sorcerers.

He finally returned to his cabin, hoping to catch some rest. The following day was sure to be a busy one, and he didn’t want to appear tired and dull before his future teachers. As he drifted to sleep, he dreamed of a strange red land where no other life existed. Alone he traveled, searching for another living soul. A red wasteland stretched endlessly before him, and the sky reflected the red of the earth. Streaks of hot red lightning filled the sky above him, and he felt the heat on his skin as they struck the ground beside him.