Authors: Jason A. Cheek
For centuries, Enelya’s people had followed their divergent path to the disdain of the other Elves, but her one act of intimacy with Nessa had brought everything from the past bubbling to the surface in a xenophobic explosion of boiling hate. Her peoples’ lack of prejudice against the other races of Irlendria had only made the situation that much worse. To Enelya’s horror, even the most open-minded of their brethren had accused her Clan of being little better than the savage beasts they spirit bonded with.
Unfortunately, the incident had only further served to cut the bonds between the Clans even further. Not that Enelya’s Spirit Mother had particularly cared one way or another by the time the Council of Elders had met to discuss the issue. The Clan’s outrage at the treatment of their princess had nearly started a war. Sometimes she wondered what would have happened if they hadn’t been fighting for their lives against the invading Hordes striving to destroy their homeland.
Sadly, Enelya never had another chance to talk with her first love after they’d been discovered. Nessa’s father had whisked her back to the plains of their people shortly after the Tuonellians had been driven from the Great Forest. Even then, Enelya had still felt the connection between them, but over the years, the spirit bond had slowly faded away. By the time she’d bonded with Argus, those feelings had become all but a distant memory.
Taking a deep breath Enelya was finally able to lock the overwhelming emotions away once again. Obviously, she still had strong feelings for the beautiful filly, but no matter what she might have wished could have been, there was no time to explore those feelings now. Her unspoken vow to the Klavikian came first. Enelya’s thoughts were suddenly brought up short as a mental voice rang in her head.
Focusing once more on her surroundings, Enelya realized they were already passing through the totems that marked the outer boundaries of the Clan’s lands. Normally she would have breathed a sigh of relief upon entering her people’s territory, but in the fading light she felt little comfort from the grim visages looking down at her as the first sounds of pursuit came to hear hypersensitive ears.
A quick glance behind her let Enelya know that no one else was aware that they were being followed. Not that it came as a surprise to her. If not for her spirit link with Argus and the shared abilities it gave her, she would have been just as ignorant of the threat as the rest of their party. As the wind shifted direction, Enelya’s eyes dangerously narrowed as she picked up the scent of many hesturs from further up the trail. Feeling Argus’ muscles suddenly tense from where she sat on his back, Enelya gently laid her hands on his sleek neck sharing her growing concerns with her soulmate. Trespassing with such a large force could mean only one thing.
Although the finer subtleties of Elven politics were usually incomprehensible to the direct minded Wenci, being apex predators they intuitively understood the complexities of territorial challenges from other packs. Growling deep in his chest, Argus came to an abrupt stop as Enelya smoothly slid off his back next to him. Rising to his hind legs Argus arched his neck calling out a series of high-pitched chirps. Barely louder than a birdcall the sound radiated throughout the forest around them. After repeating the call for a third time, he slowly lowered himself into a crouch next to Enelya as the hackles rose along his spine.
No translation was needed as Enelya’s charges abruptly stopped behind her in consternation. Although, she was surprised a second later when Tiberius stepped up beside her without hesitation as his legionnaires immediately took up a defensive stance around the two of them. Flaring their nostrils with each breath, the Minotaurs warily scanned the silent forest as the loud clanking sounds of their Wolf Gauntlets transforming into shields and blades echoed around them.
At first, they heard nothing, but faintly the approaching sounds of clomping hooves and creak of leather harnesses began to come from every direction. Enelya’s eyes scanned the dark woods guardedly waiting for visual confirmation of the intruders she knew where there. A moment later the dark shapes of hesturs began materializing out of the darkness in groups of ones and twos. Within seconds a solid wall of the creatures surrounded them. On their backs were the dark hooded Rangers of the Forest Clan with their energy bows bent and ready to fire.
Standing with her back ramrod straight, Enelya’s eyes took on the fierce look of a predator whose territory had been suddenly intruded upon as her gaze coldly swept the wall of mounted Rangers. In a ringing voice, she addressed the group of Elves directly before her stepping forward.
“You are trespassing in the domain of the Wild Clan. By the command of the Spirit Daughter of Arien Tasartir, lower your weapons and –“
A wordless shriek of rage cut her off as the lead Elf drove his mount at Enelya screaming in hate. “You betray your own people and have the audacity to issue threats when caught red-handed in your treachery? Shut your beast loving mouth before I end your miserable life!” Feeling Argus’ blinding rage through their link, Enelya placed her hand on his shoulder as his muscles tensed to spring.
Quickly Enelya strode towards the advancing hestur effectively blocking Argus’ path. They both knew if he attacked the Rangers would cut him down without hesitation. Unknown to the Elves, that brutal response would be the end for the only daughter of the Wild Elf Clan’s Spirit Mother. She didn’t need to look up at the Forest Elf’s face to know that it was Dorthonion Celebrindal, the second son of King Elladan, who now accosted her. To say she wasn’t going to enjoy what she was about to do would have been a lie. There was enough bad blood between the two of them to last an Elven lifetime. The young prince openly hated her people with a passion, considering them nothing more than abominations that corrupted the essence of the Elven Race. To end this quickly, she had to act decisively.
In the blink of an eye, Enelya vaulted into the air. Clearing the horn centered in the hestur’s forehead she slammed both feet into Dorthonion’s chest, instantly knocking the obnoxious prince to the ground. Out of control Dorthonion’s hestur plunged headlong into the Minotaurs’ shield wall whinnying in fear and confusion as Tiberius stepped forward unconcerned. Swinging his gauntleted fist, he met the large beast head-on with a resounding crack.
The sudden silence was deafening as the prince’s mount bounced off of Tiberius’ chest before crumpling to the ground in an unmoving heap. For a shocked second, there was only uncomfortable silence as the rest of the Rangers shifted in their saddles unsure of how to react. Every bent bow was now intently focused on Enelya ready to fire as she stood unmoving with her hands by her side. The flurry of action had ended almost before it had begun when Prince Dorthonion pushed himself up to his knees shrieking.
“You dare strike me!” Cradling his broken arm the prince sputtered in rage struggling to stand. “Enelya, you only live now so that I can bring you to justice before the Council of the Clans for your part in my father’s death!”
Unconcerned, Enelya looked down at the obnoxious prince at her feet. “And you Dorthonion only live now at my sufferance for your stupidity.” Seeing his incredulous look, she spat on the ground before him. “These beings standing before you are under my protection. Leave now with the others or face my wrath.”
Scrambling backward fearfully, Dorthonion pointed his shaking finger at Enelya like a weapon still screaming. “One word and my hunters will cut you down where you stand!”
Before she could respond, Enelya felt silk brush by her as Lúthien rushed past. Kneeling next to Dorthonion, she hugged the angry Elf to her chest trying to calm him down. “My love there is more at stake than you know. Tiberius did not attack your people; he tried to save –“
SLAP! The resounding crack echoed throughout the clearing. “Don’t touch me!” Dorthonion’s open-handed smack rocked Lúthien back on her heels, before crumpling to the ground. “Did you actually believe I loved you?” Dorthonion’s blood speck lips formed into a remorseless sneer as he spat in disgust into Lúthien’s shocked face. “I only agreed to marry you at the behest of your father.”
Instantly Tiberius was at Lúthien’s side wrapping her up protectively in his arms as his nostrils flared in anger. Abruptly he froze in disbelief at the familiar scent coming from the Forest Elves around them; it was the same odd stench he’d smelt during the battle in Gravida. Before he could consider the implications, Dorthonion’s cruel laughter rang out across the glade.
“Didn’t you ever wonder why I never kissed you? Did you believe any Elven male would want you after being disgraced by that dumb beast?” Jerking his chin towards Tiberius, Dorthonion continued spouting his hate. “If you weren’t a Princess you would have been exiled long ago for an animal loving whore!” Meeting Enelya’s hard eyes, Dorthonion’s lip curled into a sneer. “Surrender or my Rangers will cut you down where you stand!”
Dorthonion knew he was issuing a death sentence with his words. Unlike the other Clans, Wild Elves didn’t surrender or give up. Their warriors always fought to the death. That didn’t mean they didn’t fall back and regroup when necessary, but they never surrendered. Unlike the many other races of Irlendria, they didn’t hold to the same precepts of honorable warfare. Although Wild Elves greatly respected the physical prowess of individual hunters, they derived no enjoyment from battles or fighting. The Clans focus centered on gathering food, protecting the young and defending their territory from intruders. Otherwise, combat was never sought after for personal gain.
Glancing back over her shoulder, the predator inside Enelya’s soul recognized the resolve held in the various eyes of her companions behind her. With a sharp nod to his bulls, Tiberius rose to his hooves as the loud clanking sounds of his gauntlets transforming into shield and blade rang out as the rest of the Minotaurs formation quickly shifted into a circle with Nessa, Lúthien and the wounded Paladin at the center.
The movements would have looked more impressive if the legionnaires didn’t look so battle worn and bloody. Still they stood facing the overwhelming force without hesitation as their nostrils flared expectantly with their weapons held at the ready. There was no question as to the message their stance conveyed. If it were going to be a fight to the death, they would make it a fight to be remembered.
Even after everything they’d been through none of them was willing to give into Dorthonion’s demands for surrender. Enelya saw the triumphant grin on Dorthonion’s face. It was as if she could read his hate-filled thoughts. In one fell swoop, he would have the war against the Wild Clan and the revenge that he’d so long desired against Arien Tasartir while slaughtering the Prince of the Imperium. As a sharp chirping bird call broke the silence around them, Enelya felt Argus’ exhilaration flow through their link. A split second later she saw Dorthonion’s look of horror at the predatory grin spreading across her face. Before he could order his hunters to attack, Enelya leaped after him screeching a warbling war cry.
Energy bolts sizzled through the air around her as the surprised hunters released their shots a second too late as everything happened at once. Around the glade the trees erupted with snarling black forms that streaked out from the shadows in leaping bounds. Within seconds, they were among the Rangers as bodies went flying, while riderless hesturs whinnied in fear as they took off in panic into the surrounding woods.
The few Rangers that found themselves on the ground still in possession of their bows struggled to form a defensive line, but they were blasted off their feet like rag dolls before ever bringing their weapon to bear on their attackers. In short ordered the tattered and torn Forest Elves were quickly thrown haphazardly together in a frightened heap near where Enelya held Dorthonion’s face planted into the soft earth. Around the perimeter stalked snarling Wencis as more of her Clan’s warriors bound the intruders to be hauled away.
Numerous Wild Elves wearing skin hides and armed with long spears practically filled the grove as a small Pack of Wencis quickly rounded up the stragglers. Although she recognized most of the hard-faced Scouts, Enelya didn’t fully relax until she heard the hail of a familiar voice from nearby. Turning around, she unconsciously grinned as soon as she saw the mischievous face of the young Elf striding towards her.
“Enelya Tasartir, only you could cause a commotion like this.” Enelya saw Tathar’s steps suddenly falter as he made the sign of the Goddess. His face instantly turning serious at the sight of Dorthonion Celebrindal’s hate filled face glaring back at him. The much larger Elf was white-faced in pain from having his broken arm twisted behind his back. “What in Meliki’s name is going on? Have the Clans finally turned against us?”
Breathing a sigh of relief, Enelya met Tathar’s concerned gaze. Like her, he was a shaman, but being soulmated to Argus’ littermate Anon made him more than just a friend. “I don’t know Tathar. I think it’s more complicated than that. I must speak with the Spirit Mother before I say more, but-” Seeing the warriors beginning to surround the Minotaurs warily, she spoke quickly nodding to the Forest Elf at her feet.
“Can you watch after Dorthonion?”
“With my life!”
Gripping the young shaman’s shoulder firmly, she wordlessly expressed her thanks. “I need to find the Scout Leader before this turns into a disaster.” Tathar’s sudden grimace brought her up short.
“Dínendal Telrúnya currently leads.” Seeing Enelya’s confused look, he explained in a rush of words. “No one knows what happened to Gwindor, but once we heard Argus’ call, there was no time to debate why he was left in charge.”