Harlen could scarcely remember being so tired. The horses, even as powerful and hardy as they were, now dragged their feet along the mossy soil of the wood. The sun had risen several hours before, as they forded the river separating Windir from the duchy. Without the enhancing magics that the cavalrymen had been using, the trip was very long, indeed.
Several times, Harlen had watched Ceriandel nearly slump forward in his saddle, only to snap his eyes open and sit back upright.
"We must rest a short while." Harlen finally said as Ceriandel once again levered himself upright in the saddle. "It will serve no purpose for us to make a grave mistake due to exhaustion."
The elf nodded agreement, and brought his horse to a stop near a thick patch of shrub. The stunted trees were easily high enough to hide within, and mercifully hollow inside their leafy shroud. The pair guided their horses into the canopy and then laid upon the saddle blankets.
With only a very few words exchanged between the two men, they cast themselves into sleep.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Hyandai watched the companies of Isolationists march out of the wood and take up positions across the valley from Embalis. The guards upon the wall watched, too, nervously. It was a sizable force, already larger than their own, and the scouts said that more were on the way before they retreated, themselves, behind the village's defenses. The last of the moving forces would be here by tomorrow night.
Embalis was besieged.
Truth be told she was not at all sure she could do this. Lead an army into battle and order people to their deaths. Her hands shook and her stomach turned over painfully as she clutched the railing of the catwalk. The sun was low in the sky, and still no help came. None had been promised. The Ghantian offensive was sapping all the forces that the small nation could spare and this little skirmish along their northern frontier would have to wait.
"They shall send reinforcements." She said in a low, almost male voice. "About six months after we are all dead."
Her personal aide, Ealina, looked at her. "Lady Hyandai?" She asked.
"Sorry, I was simply thinking out loud." Hyandai said, turning to the lovely elven girl.
She was several years younger than Hyandai, and not even close to being of age. The girl blinked down at the massing army.
"Lady, do you foresee defeat? Or victory?" Ealina asked, her silver eyes wide and worried.
Hyandai gave out a long sigh. "I foresee death for many." She said. "But I cannot foretell of who will emerge victorious."
Ealina smiled gently. "We will be victorious." She said, with a small amount of self-assuredness. "We are on the side of right."
"I wish I were so certain that correctness granted victory." Hyandai said quietly. "But it does not seem to be so." She turned and walked back into the small room she had turned into her command post.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Ceriandel awoke first, the sound of nearby footsteps rousing him from his fitful slumber. He peered out of their concealment to see one of the scouts of the village, injured but still afoot. He was moving away from Embalis, though. The young scout's eyes were haunted, like those of a panicked animal.
It grieved Ceriandel to see a fellow elf, or any intelligent being look thus. He hailed the elf, holding out a peaceful hand.
"Scout of Embalis." He said. "Come and rest, we are friends."
The scout started at the sound of his voice and spun about, flashing out his hyandai. "Who is there?" The scout demanded. The look of panic was now a flashing hostility, worry, yes, but more determination and anger. Ceriandel was glad to see it.
"I am Ceriandel of clan Yavanhaur." He said. "And we are allied, lest you be serving the traitors."
Harlen had awoken to the speech, unused as he was to elven words that they demanded attention.
"I serve no traitors." The elf said. "I am Mathalas. I was sent forth to scout this way, but when I tried to return, I found my way filled with foes."
Ceriandel nodded. "Come, rest and be comforted." he said.
The elf nodded, deciding he had little to lose at this point. He sheathed his weapon and slid through the branches of the shrubby tree and started at the sight of Harlen, standing and stretching in the dimness.
"A human?" Mathalas asked. "I had heard they sent him away."
Ceriandel chuckled. "They did." He confirmed. "I am bringing him back."
Harlen said. "Well met Mathalas." He had overheard them outside and gleaned the scout's name.
The elf executed one of the quick head-bows, then stood again, a wicked grin crossing his rather roguish face. "The leadership will be sorely put off that you have brought this man back." Mathalas said to Ceriandel.
"They will have to cope." Said Ceriandel. "He is the Warleader's betrothed, and from what I know, the Warleader out ranks the Lord and Lady of a town during time of conflict."
The scout nodded. "A technicality that may save your title." He said, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "But they have other ways of making one regret crossing them."
"They can do their worst." The blade dancer said. "I welcome it, so long as my sister is happy and we have victory through her leadership."
Harlen held out a large loaf of bread to the two elves, and a jar of plum preserves. The scout ate heartily, being quite famished after several days in the wood. Ceriandel more picked at his portion, thinking hard between bites.
"That worries me most of all." Harlen said, watching Ceriandel eat. "Hyandai always had a, well, a healthy appetite. Yet you say she cannot even keep food down now."
Ceriandel laughed at that. "Diplomatically put, Harlen." He said. "Hyandai eats like a wolf who has starved two weeks." He continued smiling long after his laughter died off. "And, yes, for one such as her, being unable to eat is a sore trial, I deem."
The scout was leaning with his back to the trunk. "Hyandai is a good Warleader." He said. "I met her twice. She knows her mind and heeds not foolish counsel."
Harlen nodded, as did Ceriandel.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Hyandai emerged from the privy, her face flush. Her anger at herself over her lack of fortitude was the main cause, but some of it was her discomfort. She could not keep food down and it annoyed her. Rinsing her mouth with water, she spit over the railing, belatedly checking downward for possible victims of an aquatic bombardment.
Two of the captains patiently awaited her. They had seen her for days now, growing more frail and losing weight. "Lady Hyandai, a heal . . .." He started to say.
"No!" She hissed at him, interrupting the captain and forcing him to take a half-step backward. "No healers. I told you, they have more important matters to tend to. There is a war going on, and they don not have time for some girl who cannot keep her sliced apples down."
She turned toward the model of the village and looked down at it. "You say there are more, even, than we thought?" She asked.
He nodded. "At least two hundreds." He said. "It was sheer luck that one of our scouts happened upon the camp, it was well hidden in a remote vale." He pointed at a map, lacquered to a wooden panel on the wall. "They were encamped here, and would be marching even now, if they wish to be here by tomorrow night."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Ceriandel tended to the wounds of the scout dutifully, if not enthusiastically. The elven healing breath was rather personal contact, and most often administered across sexual lines, however, there were no females present, and the chore was a necessary one.
The three got up and mounted the much refreshed horses. The scout had fetched several bags of water for the beasts and they seemed almost eager to be off now.
Mounted with Harlen alone, and the scout behind Ceriandel, they set off again, angling due south now, so as to come to Embalis from its south side. If they had the north side covered, one would hope that there were not enough of them to place picket all about the town.
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."
