It was growing dark, and the scout changed to Harlen's horse. In part this was to save the strength of Ceriandel's beast, and in part to let the scout guide the human's mount in the darkness, where Harlen was nearly blind. The horses were likewise nearly blind, but were trained to trust their rider's guidance in darkness. They slowed to a canter, though, and would not allow themselves to be goaded into greater speed.
They rode into the night, and only stopped for a short break at the banks of a brook as the sky was lightening in the east. Neither friend nor foe did they meet, nor even many animals. The coming war had left a tension in the wood, that even animals could sense. Even Harlen could feel that something of consequence was passing.
"We are well south of Embalis now." Ceriandel said, looking about into the growing light. "It will take most of the day to move back toward the village and come from its due south."
The scout nodded agreement. "From what I saw of their movements, they cannot have formed their regiments near the village until, at earliest, yesterday night. Two of their encampments were still breaking down camp as I sighted them."
Harlen was relieved to hear that. "So they cannot attack before tonight?" He asked.
"Exactly." The scout said. "Armies are not fleet of foot, even elven armies." Mathalas said.
"I do not expect them to tarry long." Said Ceriandel. "They are impatient to get this conflict underway. Once they are assembled, they will attack."
They let the horses rest a couple of hours while they, themselves took a little sleep.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"A thousand?" Hyandai asked, looking at the captain dubiously. "You are certain?"
He nodded. "At least, including the one company that still marches on us."
"Two and a half to one." She murmured. "And their ranks far fuller of trained warriors than ours." She looked at the captain. "Perhaps we should consider retreat."
He shook his head. "Then they would likely catch us without even our hasty defenses." He said. "No, we should either surrender or fight here."
"Surrender." Hyandai said, her face rather morose. "No, I do not think we will be surrendering to those treacherous persons. They tried to kill me in my bed, they will not keep their word if it suits them. I believe they have grown blinded by their zeal to further their goals, forsaking all other things."
"Fanatics are often the worst enemy one can have, they are absolutely convinced of their correctness, and other opinions are moot." The captain said, shaking his head. "I understand there are some entire human cultures of that sort."
Hyandai nodded. "There are." She said. "The Black Theocracy and Costa Roja." She looked at a map of Feldare. "They are quite different and both quite convinced their way is the only right way."
"And now, even our own people fall to the appeal of zealotry." The captain said quietly. "It proves we are not so superior, does it not?"
Hyandai smiled. The captain was a Warwolf, like herself, and his viewpoint only reinforced that. The road to their downfall has and is their rather high opinion of themselves. To believe themselves superior to humanity, because of long span of years, or agility, or even innate magical ability. Foolishness. Humanity was just as valid an expression of the will of the Spirits as elfkind.
Did not man build great empires? Did man not wield mighty magics? Did they not show great generosity of spirit? Hyandai smiled. Elves and man should be brothers, not competitors. To compete with man, or man to compete with elvenkind was foolishness, they had much to offer one another.
"I have to admit, Lady Hyandai." The captain said. "You are an inspiration to those of us who believe as we do." He meant her betrothal to Harlen, a human.
"I did not seek out a human mate, Captain Lemlithis." She said. "I simply did not discount a great man because his ears were round." She giggled at the reference. Most warwolves believed that this was possibly the greatest physical difference between humans and elves. It was sort of a running joke with them.
Lemlithis nodded. "Of course, your heart led you to your choice." He agreed.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Harlen awoke to Ceriandel shaking his foot with his own foot. "Let us be going." The blade dancer said. "Else we may be too late."
The three rode hard again that day, driving the horses to a froth. The beasts were beginning to weaken overall, though, as horses cannot be driven for several days straight without long-term hurt.
They had slowed to little better than a walk by middle afternoon, and even that taxed the horses now. The forest slowly crept by them, and they started to fear that they would not arrive even in the night.
At the fall of darkness. They dismounted and started walking the horses, leading them by their bits. It would do them little good to kill the beasts when they may well be needed in the village. They were near now, and Harlen could vaguely make out the smell of smoke.
"Already they fight?" He asked.
The scout shook his head. "Lady Hyandai had ordered many buildings razed to clear what she termed 'free fire zones' for the archers." He said. "The scent you smell is old smoke, from those burnings."
Finally, they saw the first lights of the village, high in the trees overhead and at a distance. They all began to move forward cautiously, watching about themselves for enemy or even village elves who might mistake them for enemy soldiers. They did not wish to be attacked by either side at this point.
They came to a palisade, with a rude gate set into it, and a dozen militia manning it. The elves grew alert as they came near, rising from their positions and regarding them suspiciously.
"Who is there?" Asked one of the militiamen, seemingly their senior officer.
"Ceriandel of clan Yavanhaur, Mathalas the scout, and Harlen of Morrovale." Ceriandel said.
The sight of the human among the three approaching figures caused a bit of a stir, but also confirmed that it was hardly Isolationists before them.
The gate groaned open and they allowed the three to enter. The horses were taken and guided to the stables. Three of the militiamen walked with the three toward the center of the village.
Up a long stair they climbed, high into the branches of the mightiest of the ornthalion trees in the village. This was the Turaorn, the master tree, the eldest and most revered ornthalion of the area.
The three guards led them into a small chamber. "Wait here, someone will come and decide what is to be done with you." Two of the guards stood outside, on the catwalk, and watched the three in the chamber. They knew they could easily overpower the guards, but to what end? So the three simply sat at chairs about a small table in the center of the room.
A few minutes later a young female came into the room. "I am Ealina, aide to Hyandai." She said, as she entered, but stopped speaking as she regarded the seated figures.
"Ehladrim Ceriandel?" She asked, then turned her eyes to Harlen. "And a man of the Westrons?"
She looked at the scout, whom she knew personally. "Mathalas, you will go report to your company, they should be near the northeast palisade." She said.
Mathalas gave the pair a last look and said. "May fate be with you." He said, and went out the door, giving Ealina a quick nodding bow as he passed her.
Ealina looked back at the two militiamen. "You may go." She said. "These men are in my keeping now."
They looked at each other a moment, then nodded and left.
"Unless I am sorely mistaken." Ealina said. "You are Harlen of Morrovale. Lady Hyandai's bethrothed." She looked at Ceriandel. "And you are Ceriandel, who was recently reported missing, or miscreant. The lady's brother."
A small smile crossed her beautiful, angular face. "I see the makings of a conspiracy here." She said. "One to perhaps comfort our Warleader when her health is failing."
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