“Commander! He’s here!” voices yelled in a chain as they sought to grasp Ern Dwull’s attention. Through the swordsmen and bowmen, past the thunderous creaking of the firing catapults, their words rang out until they reached the front line. Atop his black horse, Ern Dwull caught word and turned away from the action. He stared into his sea of men as they looked back in the direction the word had spread from.
A cloaked figure stood some fifty yards away, walking towards the army.
Ern squinted, unsure of the stranger. Lon was his first thought, but was quickly taken out of equation due to the other’s physical stature. With his sword in one hand, Ern turned his horse and made way through the army towards the approaching figure.
“What is your business?” Ern barked.
“I’ve come to your aid, commander.” Ankar Rie replied. “Can we go someplace and speak in private?”
“Who sent you?”
“King Andelline asked for assistance. I am here.”
Ankar Rie looked past Ern Dwull to the assault on the Lyyn Forest just beyond. Men scrambled around frantically, loading the catapults with heavy rocks, pouring a black liquid on them, then setting them ablaze before launching. The sky over the Lyyn Forest was blotched with lines of smoke and falling flames.
“Come down from your horse and take me to your tent, commander. We do not have time for you to decide whether I can be trusted or not. There is more to this war than you can see, and we need not have lives destroyed carelessly.”
“The Elves should have considered that before assassinating my king!”
“There is something far worse to blame for his death. Let us talk, before it is too late.”
Ern felt threatened. Something in the other’s tone made him believe that he was more powerful than he appeared. Reluctantly, he sheathed his sword and jumped off his horse, motioning for Ankar Rie to follow.
They made way through the army to a small clearing, next to the cooking implements and the medical shelters, to a large tent where Ern led the way in. Tables and chairs filled most of the space, with maps and drinking cups filling the table tops. Ern offered a chair to Ankar, who sat and poured himself a drink from a water pitcher in front of him. Ern Dwull moved around the table to face him, putting one foot on a chair and leaning over the table.
“Who are you?”
“I am Ankar Rie, from Illken Dor.”
Ern’s eyes sparked with hope. “You’re the sorcerer? You’ve come to destroy the Elves!”
Ankar shook his head slowly. “I’ve come to tell you that you must stop the war with the Elves.”
Ern’s forehead wrinkled with lines of confusion that twisted down to the corners of his eyes. His nostrils flared. “My orders come from the Queen herself. I’ll take none from—”
“A threat approaches that would annihilate Elves and Men alike. Please, sit.”
Ern stared into Ankar’s eyes and only found truth. He moved the chair a foot back, then sat across from the sorcerer. Ankar Rie looked around, making sure no one was in hearing distance, then leaned in further. His voice was hushed. His tone was firm. “First, let me tell you of what comes.”
Ankar Rie began at what he knew to be the beginning of the end. He spoke quickly of the power the Dark Elves unleashed and the danger that now approached because of it. He watched Ern’s face turn pale, his mouth sagging open in utter disbelief. Ankar then went on with what he knew to be the demon he was chasing in Cillitran. He told Ern Dwull everything he knew, everything he saw, and all that he suspected, from the history books to the lineage to the fabled sword, he left nothing out. He enforced the belief that Men and Elves would only stand a chance if they fought together. The war must cease. They must prepare for the Takers.
“A dark cloud will settle over the land, and nothing will survive it.”
Ern Dwull said nothing. His normally dark complexion was ghostly. He poured himself a drink and swallowed hard, remembering what Ankar Rie had said about the Queen and the castle room he found full of dead bodies.
“You think the demon was living inside the Queen, using her to fill out its wishes?”
Ankar nodded. “Using the Queen, it would be able to start the war. If Men and Elves fought to the death, the demons would be able to overrun the land unchallenged. I believe that somehow we are still a threat to them. I believe that threat lies within a sword hidden in the castle. The Queen could search for it, and no one would suspect anything.”
“How long do you suppose that the demon lived inside the Queen?” Ern shifted uncomfortably within his chair. His hands were folded together across the table, his fingers fidgeting without control.
Ankar shrugged. “It would be hard to tell. A few months maybe.”
Ern looked up from the table, out of his dreamlike trance, to stare into Ankar’s eyes. “I was in the castle, just before departing, I ran into the Queen in the secret tunnels. She didn’t seem surprised to see me, but instead asked me where this sword was. I knew nothing about it, and told her as much. She was angered by that, and I noticed her body moving in ways it should not. The look she gave me sent chills into my soul. I’ve told no one. No one would have believed me anyhow. She gave the order to march to the Lyyn and so we did.”
Ern watched Ankar nod. He was beginning to feel ill. “Then she arrived here. The Elves had a shield over the entire forest. We could not penetrate it. Somehow, she removed it. They attacked her immediately. Her body was filled with arrows. She died hours ago. Her body is being transferred back to the castle.”
“Arrows would not kill the demon.” Ankar was skeptical. “Did you see her body, commander? Was there life in it?”
“It appeared as though she had died weeks ago.”
“The demon has fled her then. It could be in anyone.” Ankar Rie began to rise from his chair.
“Lon!” Ern’s eyes grew wide. “I know where it is, sorcerer!”
Before they could go further, a man dressed in chain-mail carrying a long sword and a circular shield came rushing in. “They’ve put out the fires! The Elves are coming!”
White clouds settled down into the burning fires like soft blankets, smothering the flames and absorbing the black smoke. They clung to the burning foliage until the fires were gone. The eastern edge of the Lyyn Forest was now nothing more than a charred scar. But that too would clear. Within minutes, the sky above the forest was as clear as the sky over the Caltar Mountains. Sunlight was creeping its way through the leafy canopy to where the Elven army stood waiting.
“Nicely done, Dorn.” Lord Estrial nodded to the magic’s maker, who stood next to him, smiling in satisfaction, and fingertips white with smoke rings.
Dornawee smirked. “Let us see if the demons think the same way.”
“They are of a different fire, old friend.”
“All fires can be put out.” Dorn blew his fingertips and the remaining traces of his magic disappeared, along with his smile.
Terill smiled sadly. He looked across the stations of Elves preparing to depart their separate ways and felt a terrible ache in his heart. None of them had gone into a battle on a scale as this one. They will have to be brave and fight hard. With no talismans, he thought grimly.
“It is time. Fight strong, fight valiant, fight for our lives.”
Elves filed out of the Lyyn heading north, leaving Terill behind. He was to meet with the Men of Cillitran and delay their efforts long enough for them to see what the war was really about. Dornawee pleaded with him not to go alone, but he knew their plan would stand a better chance this way. Men were weak. They would feel less threatened if he went alone. Shadox had warned him to spare their lives as they would need them. Terill began wondering how large the enemy army could be if the Elves did indeed need the help of Men.
As he stepped out of the concealment of his Forest and into the Shyl Plains, Lord Estrial stood in awe at the line of Men from Cillitran massed on the knoll before him. Impressive, he thought. But not nearly enough. Not for what comes. He cloaked himself withi
n his shield of magic and began walking away from the Lyyn, moving steadily towards the army. He could hear men yelling right away, warning someone of importance of his approach, reading themselves for their orders. Men scrambled around, possibly making room for a leader to reach the front and see for himself. He would ride out and meet with Terill. They would speak shortly, Terill would convince him of the real danger facing them. It would be short. It would be swift.
And then they fired.
A cloud of arrows suddenly shot into the sky over the Lord of the Elves. But his approach did not slow, his steps as steadfast as when he had first left the woods, his face showing nothing of what he was thinking. They would not see him slow. They would not see him retreat. They would quiver in their boots, shaking in the presence of the Lord of the Forest Elves.
The whistling of the arrows came rushing down quickly around Terill, who waited until they were close, before raising one hand slightly and sending the arrows falling off course. The army of Cillitran began shouting then, he could hear the concern in their shrieks, the panic in their voices. They would be afraid now. They would know that his magic could not be countered. Not by arrows, at least.
But before Terill had a chance to second guess their strategy, another volley was unleashed. This time Terill immediately turned the arrows into dust, raining down upon their own wielders. No reason to give them hope that a third attempt would be necessary, he thought. Better to let them know where they stood right away, let them know they were wasting their time.
Then he could see them panic.
A man screamed. Another volley of arrows sped into the sky. And then they froze, motionless, suspended a hundred feet into the air. A new kind of commotion filled the army then, Terill heard. A single man reached the front of the bowmen, waving off their assault. Terill stopped. The cloaked man moved down the hill towards him.
“Lord of the Elves,” Ankar began, slowing his approach as he met Terill, “I do not wish to harm you. I am Ankar Rie, of Illken Dor, and I bring news to Cillitran’s men, and to the Lyyn Elves.”
Terill cocked his head slightly. “I am Terill Estrial, of the Lyyn. If you are a pupil’s of Shadox, then I presume we share the same news, sorcerer.”
Ankar nodded, extending his hand. Terill grasped it firmly. “My arrival is just in time, I see.”
“Shadox?”
“In search of the heir and wielder to a lost magic, a talisman for the war.” Ankar noticed Terill looking skyward. With a wave of his hand, he sent the arrows in flight safely away. “Excuse the Men of Cillitran. They do not know the whole story.”
“The dark army is coming from the north, Ankar Rie. It will reach us by sundown. That is something they should know.”
Ankar Rie nodded. “Misled, the entire city was. But no more. I’ve just arrived,” Ankar motioned back to the army, “and I’ve warned their commander. But from what I have seen, they will need to see for themselves though. I will show them what I can, Lord Estrial.”
Terill agreed. He looked beyond Ankar to where a black bearded man was approaching on foot. He looked angry. One of the King’s men, Terill assumed.
“You are right, Ankar Rie. The demons approach from the north and will be here today. It will take more power than the Elves have to offer to defeat them. We need to unite.”
Ern Dwull arrived and stood next to Ankar Rie trying best to hide his loathing for the Elf Lord. “This sorcerer has spared your life. But if what he has told me is wrong, I’ve brought a thousand reasons with me to make sure you do not live.”
“We have no time for threats, commander. You’ve been lied to about a great many tragedies. But time is now to put that past you.”
Terill quickly reached out and placed his palm of his right hand against Ern’s forehead and whispered. The magic laced within his words raced through Ern’s mind and destroyed the lies and anger trapped within, allowing Ern to think clearly and without bitterness. And just that quick, Terill’s arm withdrew and Ern stared at him in newfound admiration.
“I hope in time we can become allies once again. Turyn Andelline would have wanted that.”
Ern nodded. “Our people deserve the truth.”
“The truth is at hand, Ern.” Ankar Rie replied grimly. “They will get more than they bargained for.”
“We need a strategy. We need to know their numbers. We need to know how long before they reach us, and from what direction.” Ern spoke, staring out into the Shyl Plains. “I have maps—”
“They come from the north. They do not hide their approach. They have no cause to. They do not fear you. Nor should they.” Terill continued his stare at Ern, noticing the other grimace and hold back his response. “Their numbers exceed us by tenfold. And they will be here before nightfall.”
Ern tried to hide his worry, but failed. “My men will be ready.”
“Your men will die.” Terill made no effort to disguise the truth. He looked away from the panic in Ern’s eyes and stared across the Plains facing north. “Little time remains for those who can save us.”
“But you have magic,” Ern stated to Terill in utter confusion.
“Our magics were stolen. We have been working on creating new talismans to defend against the Taker horde. And we will need everything if we are to have a chance.”
“We must move your men north above the Lyyn, Ern.” Ankar said, looking away from Terill now to focus on the moment. “We need to hold them in the open for as long as possible. If we have to fall back to the forest, things will get more complicated.”
“They will start off complicated,” Terill smiled. “The Lyyn will be hidden.”
Ern Dwull stood waiting with Ankar Rie for Terill’s follow up, but Terill said nothing in conclusion. “I must get back to the men and report the news. We will march north then, set up flanks to the east and west of the Lyyn’s peak.”
“My people are already leaving the Lyyn. We will meet you on the Plains, commander.” Terill stretched his hand out and clasped Ern’s strongly, then walked away.
Ern turned to Ankar Rie. His dark eyes were angry, his voice filled with rage and a purpose to unleash it. “The demon did all of this! All of it! I saw it, sorcerer. I saw it in captain Lon’s body escorting the Queen back to Cillitran. It will pose as Lon, or anyone else, and search for the sword to destroy it! We must get there first!”
Ankar Rie placed his hands on Ern’s shoulders. The man was shaking in rage. “Commander, there is nothing we can do now. Our journey heads north to fight the horde. Others will be there to stop the demon. You are needed here. This is where you can make a difference.”
Ern stood shaking. He was silent for a minute. He still felt like he failed Lon. But the sorcerer was right. His men needed him. “I will lead my army then, sorcerer. We will fight until there is nothing left to fight.”
“You will not be alone, Ern.”
Ankar Rie walked with Ern to the top of the small rise and stood staring at the confused and angered faces of his troops. The questions shouted from all angles, seemingly from everyone, wanting to know why no attack was made, why did the elf get to walk away? Ankar helped Ern to silence the questions, doing the only thing he could to convince the army that the Elves were not their greatest enemy.
“Men of Cillitran, listen to me!”
Swirling his hands in a circle above their heads, Ankar Rie began to show the army visions of his memory as he fought the Takers in Illken Dor. Vivid images flashed in the sky above the men of Cillitran of the demons spilling their fiery magic onto him, trying in vain to destroy him. The army stood in awe, saying nothing. Ankar let it continue for several minutes, allowing the men to see exactly what they were in for. The closest men around him groaned and gasped in worry. A feeling that did not depart even when Ern cautioned them about their fears.
“I have seen the treachery from these demons! I know now that it was not the Elves who have slain our king! We have been lied to! We have been cheated! But no more! Hear me, men of Cillitran!??
? Ern grabbed his sword and thrust it skyward into the visions. “It is these monsters that have taken the life of my King and the Prince! They will suffer a defeat from the hands of Cillitran!”
A few scattered shouts rang back to him in agreement. But not everyone.
“Who will stand with us? Who will fight unmercifully in the face of evil?” Ern screamed again. This time a loud roar came charging back.
“Louder!”
The response was deafening.
Ankar Rie let his visual display fade away. The army had seen what was to come. He turned to Ern, standing beside him with his sword raised skyward, and told him it was time. He turned and walked north.
Ern was at his heels. He yelled back to his men one final time. “For the King! For Cillitran! For victory!”
Then together as one, the army of men from Cillitran began moving towards the eastern edge of the Lyyn Forest, heading north through the Shyl Plains.
“We will need them, Dorn.” Terill Estrial said to his longtime friend as they stood on a rise a few hundred yards north above the Lyyn Forest, looking back to the Cillitran army now reaching the fringe of the Elven Hunters posted at the rear of their secondary lines.
“Men.” Dornawee sighed audibly. He shook his head slightly in disgust. “I’ve never trusted one.”
Terill Estrial stood beneath the mid-afternoon sun and patted the old elf on the shoulder. “This may be the last chance you get.”
Dornawee nodded solemnly. “And I’d rather not regret it.”
Terill looked away. He faced north. A cloud of dust billowed on the horizon. They were coming, he knew.
“What hope do they have in trusting us?” He spoke softly, almost to himself, as if he was reflecting on deep regrets. Dorn stood quietly at his side. “By nightfall, trust will not be a choice.”
Lord Estrial saw Dorn’s head nod, heard him grunt something under his breath, but let the matter drop there. The afternoon was warm, the sun was bright high above the wispy clouds, and the land was as quiet as it was ever going to get. Men were getting into position behind them. He could hear the creaking of their weaponry as they lumbered off to the right and left of the armies. The Elves stood at the helm of the war ship, standing quietly facing the cloud of dust that would bring with it the end.
Terill stood motionless for a long time as he drifted away to another place, a time when he was young and things in life were not confusing or stressful. When he returned, he noticed that the young sorcerer was standing next to him. He was not sure when Ankar had arrived at his side. But the look on his face made him believe that Ankar was traveling someplace else as well. Someplace nice, he figured, by the slight smile forming across his stubble-worn jaw line. He stared at Ankar for a moment more and thought to himself that it was hope. He looked back across the sea of bodies waiting their fates, and saw the hope in their eyes as well.
Hope.
He wondered how long hope would last.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX