Baylin and his men outnumbered the remaining sober guards in Mirstone. Thanks to the evening’s wine and ale, over half were too drunk to be of any use. With the royal family running and hiding with their tails between their legs, their guards quickly scattered and the men were able to escape. However, the threat of retaliation was on their heels as they made their way toward Grasmere.
The Prince and his men rode hard through the night and well into the following day. They reached the western edge of Fagin Forest when they stopped to rest.
Fagin Forest was what separated the Kingdoms of Mirstone and Grasmere. It was a thick, dense wood said to be haunted by the long-dead Elven King, Lord Rydel, who had died a few years after the Battle of Embers. The road through the forest was little more than a makeshift path—so narrow that it could only hold three men side by side on horseback. There were some parts of the path that were even narrower. It made getting an army into Grasmere difficult, but after all, it had been created this way on purpose.
Long ago, during the Battle of Embers, the great Keld King Aron, desperate to save the realm of Wintervale, had approached the Elven King Rydel. Aron begged for the help of the elves, stating that the war wasn’t simply that of the Keld, but that it affected all the races calling Wintervale home. Rydel, being arrogant and not wanting to interfere with the gods’ wishes, extended his well wishes and hopes for the Keld victory over the trolls, but refused to involve his people in a war not of their making.
However, after the battle was over and the smoke billowed from the ash-covered land, the elf King saw the error of his ways. Not only had the Keld and the elves been affected by the maliciousness of war, but the races of men, dwarves and even the fae folk had lost many to the evil that had plagued the lands. Yet only the Keld fought to overthrow it.
Realizing their fault, the elves bridged an alliance with the great Keld Kingdoms. Using strong, ancient enchantments, they fortified all the Kingdoms with unique defenses in exchange for peace and a vow that the Keld would forever defend all who lived within the realm of Wintervale. Fagin Forest had been one of those defenses. The elves used their magic to erect the lush, dense forest as a wall between Mirstone and Grasmere. It provided a great deal of security for the Kingdoms, making it virtually impossible for any invasion to take place. Baylin never dreamed he would be the one trying to bring an army through it.
“Twenty minutes, men, that is all the time we have to spare,” Baylin called out. He wanted to give them the whole day to rest, but they had to return to Grasmere as soon as possible. We will not be safe until we are within the walls of the castle. Even then, I am not sure how safe we will be.
“Back in command already? And just when I was getting used to the power!” Ferric joked as he approached the Prince.
Baylin smiled and embraced Ferric. “You did a marvelous job, my friend, and I am forever in your debt.”
Ferric’s smile waned as he looked at the Prince’s weary face. “What is going on, Baylin? It was as if they were trying to keep you captive.”
“They were,” Baylin said. “They threatened to have Luana killed if I did not stay and marry Isla.”
Confusion shown on Ferric’s face as he furrowed his brow in disbelief. “It’s no secret you’re in love with Luana, but why would they risk their Kingdom to try such a futile move? They had to have known the risk of getting caught.”
“They plan to take Grasmere for their own,” Baylin explained. “Cadman has been in on it with them for what I can assume has been years. He has always felt the throne should be his. My guess is that he convinced the royal family to go along with it as a way of raising themselves in the ranks. Isla would be the High Queen if we were to marry.”
Ferric sat down on the ground next to a fallen log to rest. “How does you marrying the Princess help Cadman get the throne?”
Baylin sat down next to Ferric. “I don’t think he planned on me ruling for very long.”
Ferric looked at the Prince with a confused expression.
“If I were to marry the Princess and then meet an untimely death,” Baylin began, “she could marry Cadman and they would be King and Queen of Grasmere, of the entire realm of Wintervale. They were all in on it together, Ferric. Even King Gideon and Queen Fia.”
“What do we do, Baylin?” Ferric asked. “You know this won’t be the end of it.”
Baylin looked around the large gathering of men who came to his defense when he needed them most. “I don’t know.”
Baylin rose at the sound of a horse galloping up on them from the direction of Mirstone. A rider in Grasmere indigo blue called out, “My Prince Baylin!”
Baylin ran over to the man. “What is it?”
“Mirstone, Your Grace,” he said breathlessly. “They are arming their forces. They mean to move on Grasmere.”
Baylin’s heart began to pound and a prickling wave of heat flowed over him. I’ve brought a war to my front door.
“How long?” Baylin asked, scrubbing his hand along his tense forehead.
“It will be here in two days, at most,” the rider replied.
The Prince kicked at a large clump of dirt that had been brought up by the horses. He was angry, frustrated and lost at what to do. How I wish Father was here. If only he had seen Cadman for what he was. If only I had seen Isla through Luana’s eyes.
A thick fog began to roll in through the trees of the forest. It made the visibility bleak. He looked around at all the men who were staring at him. They sat in the dirt or on the edge of the forest on dead logs. They were hushed in their tones and shot nervous glances at the Prince. They looked to him to make this right.
Ferric placed a firm hand on Baylin’s shoulder. “What are we to do, Baylin?”
“I honestly don’t know, my friend,” Baylin said with a deep sigh. “I fear I have killed us all.”
“Not necessarily,” came a cool, familiar voice from within the dark cover of the forest.
Baylin and his men jumped to attention, drawing their swords.
“Who goes there?” Baylin called out, taking a step closer to the forest edge. “Show yourself.”
The fog, which had been so thick they could not see ten paces in front of their faces, dissipated almost immediately. Gliding like a specter, the elf maiden gracefully walked out from under the cover of the forest and revealed herself to the tired group of soldiers.
She was no longer cloaked like she had been when she presented herself in Baylin’s tent. She was dressed in a pale lilac gown that shimmered and trailed like molten metal behind her as she walked forward. Her long pale hair trailed down her back, a few glistening strands had been pushed behind her upturned ears. Her pale blue eyes appeared to glow as she surveyed the weary group.
Baylin fell to his knee and bowed. “You honor us.”
Though it appeared his men were not sure what was going on, they followed suit and bowed on one knee.
“Rise, men of Grasmere,” the elf commanded.
Baylin stood first and slowly approached the elf as his men rose to watch in awe. The young Prince found himself at a loss for words as he stared into the ghostly blue eyes of the elf maid. She studied him carefully, surveying him before she spoke. “Much has occurred since our last meeting, son of Ashmur. It would seem the herbs have revealed your path and purpose.”
Baylin nodded. “They have revealed a great deal, and I am in your debt for your assistance. Though what the end will be is a mystery to me.”
“The vision of the elves is both a blessing and a curse, young one,” she replied, reaching out a gentle hand and placing it on his arm. “Though we are gifted the ability of foresight, the ability to translate visions is not always as easy.”
Baylin sighed softly. “I fear the vision came too late. Mirstone has conspired against us. They mean to take Grasmere for themselves. War will be upon us in no time.”
“Do not fear, young Prince, I come bringing help,” the elf maid said with a smile. She turned, holding out a hand, gesturing Baylin to look toward the edge of the forest. “May I present our beloved Lord, King Rydel.”
Everyone within earshot gasped at the name. The history of Wintervale was known to all who lived within the realm. Anyone over the age of five years knew the story of how King Rydel erected Fagin Forest. The stories told that he used the last of his magic to do so, therefore condemning himself to death.
The men turned and looked as the elf King emerged from the forest, along with a few elven guards. He was extremely tall and lean, while still appearing strong and formidable. For one so old, he had the appearance of youth about his face, though his ghostly blue eyes spoke of wisdom beyond their reckoning. He wore a fine pale blue tunic that grazed the ground as he walked. His long silken hair flowed over his shoulders and down his back in a straight shimmering white sheet. Atop his head, he wore a crown of silver leaves, accented with emeralds. His presence was ethereal, the air around him shimmered.
Baylin and his men hit the ground, showing their respect. The Prince dared to lift his eyes to King Rydel. “My great Lord, you honor me and my men. We are not worthy of your presence.”
The King nodded his approval with a slight upturn of a smile on his face. “Many thanks, Baylin, son of Ashmur, future King of Grasmere. Please do rise, we have much to discuss.”
Baylin rose as the forest appeared to erupt with movement. Elves began to move out of the darkness of the trees, carrying baskets of fruit and bread along with bottles of wine and water.
Ferric stood, moving in close to Baylin, and whispered, “What in hell is going on?”
King Rydel addressed the elves with a commanding voice. “Please see to these men and their horses. They have a long journey ahead of them and require rest and replenishment.”
Baylin looked at the Elven King with questioning eyes. “Apologies for questioning your gifts and gestures of friendship, for they are most welcome. However, I must ask why you are helping us.”
Rydel smiled gently at him. “Because, Your Grace, you are the great hope of this entire realm. If you cannot stop the evil spreading through this land, it will not only be the races of men and Keld that are abolished. All will fall victim to this evil. Wintervale is in your hands.”
The weight of the words caused Baylin’s body to feel heavy with worry. “I do not understand. You are the great King of old, you are the most powerful being in Wintervale. How can I be the only hope when you are so powerful?”
The King gestured to the edge of the forest where a young elf maid had set out a blanket with food and drink on it. “Please sit with me, both of you. I’m certain you are in great need of rest and refreshment.”
Damn these elves and their cryptic nature. Why can’t they ever give a straight answer? Baylin knew he would get more by playing along with the King rather than demanding information immediately. He nodded to Ferric and they followed the King and sat down on the blanket. Baylin could not deny his stomach screamed for the food that had been provided. He was also certain he would be more useful in battle plans if he had a full stomach.
King Rydel handed them both a piece of bread and hunk of cheese. “Please eat.”
Ferric nodded and tore into the food as though he had not eaten in weeks.
Baylin accepted the gift with a gracious bow of the head. “Many thanks. I do not wish to seem ungrateful, but Mirstone is suiting up to ride on Grasmere as we speak. Every minute we spend here is a minute closer their army will get to us.”
King Rydel gave a mischievous smile and looked over at the elf maid who had helped Baylin so many weeks ago. “Do not worry, my sister Faylen has taken precautions to… delay their army.”
“Your sister?” Baylin questioned in disbelief.
“Yes, Faylen has been watching over you for quite some time, young Prince,” the elf King said matter-of-factly. “As I have said, your rise to power is of great importance to the realm. All of the realm.”
Baylin gave a deep sigh and rubbed the back of his neck. “Then why won’t you tell me so I can get on with it? I do not mean any disrespect, and I know it is in the nature of the elves not to interfere unless necessary, but doesn’t your very presence prove that it is just that?”
King Rydel searched Baylin’s eyes. He appeared as though he struggled between two sides of an argument within his thoughts.
“Please, my Lord, I cannot face this evil on my own,” Baylin pleaded.
His words caught the elf King’s attention. “You won’t, son of Ashmur. We will help you bear this burden, as it will eventually be the burden of all who call Wintervale their home.”
Relief spread over Baylin as he let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Thank you, my Lord.”
“My Lord?” Ferric piped up nervously, addressing the elf King. “You stated Mirstone would be delayed. Might I ask how?”
King Rydel smirked, looking back to his sister. “All elves have their own special gift from the gods. Faylen was gifted with the ability to control the moisture in the air.”
Faylen beamed. “I think you will find that Mirstone is covered in a dense onslaught of fog and rain. An army cannot travel if they lack the ability to see their hands in front of their noses!” She giggled, covering her mouth with her delicate hand.
Ferric and Baylin attempted to control their amused laughter at the elf maid’s excitement. Even King Rydel smiled at his sister’s exuberance.
“Many thanks, Milady,” Baylin said with a slight bow of the head. He turned his attentions back to the elf King. “It is obvious you do not plan to leave the Kingdom of Mirstone in an eternal state of dismal conditions; it would not be right for the villagers of the Kingdom to suffer such a fate.”
“Undeniably,” King Rydel agreed as he placed a small grape in his mouth and savored it.
Ferric looked at Baylin. “We must leave soon. At this rate, even with a delay they will be upon us before we can reach Grasmere. How are we to get our men through the forest and ready the Kingdom in time?”
“How indeed?” the elf King murmured as he examined a piece of clover from the ground.
Wonderful, he’s gone cryptic again. Baylin gave a deep sigh and stood up, surveying the trail that ran through Fagin Forest. “It will take a day, at least, for all the men to travel through the forest. There’s hardly room for two wagons to travel past one another.” He turned and faced Faylen. “How much time will your bad weather buy us?”
The elf maid gave a worried look. “I’m afraid I cannot hold the magic for much longer. It was meant to be a delay, not a solution. To cover such a vast area with fog and rain takes its toll.”
“Damn,” Baylin spoke gruffly.
Ferric stepped up and bowed to Faylen. “Milady, thank you for your assistance. Any delay you can afford us is most welcome. But please, do not exert yourself. Especially if it should cause you harm. Your safety is as important as our own.”
Baylin watched as the elf maid’s eyes twinkled and she appeared to have the softest shimmer of a rose blush on her pale cheeks. He could help but smile at his friend. Not many people could say they had the power to charm an elf maid.
King Rydel seemed to have caught the exchange as well, though he did not appear as impressed as his sister. “Prince Baylin, as you know, we have already meddled more than the gods care for us to. We are at risk of angering them. I’m afraid once my sister’s magic has run its course, you will be on your own.” He gave Baylin an apologetic look. “Remember, young Prince, you are the hope of Wintervale.”
“Hope of Wintervale,” Ferric said, putting an arm over Baylin’s shoulder, “try not to muddle it up.” He laughed, attempting to lighten the mood as he clapped Baylin on the back.
The elf King smiled at them both. “Know the elves have not abandoned you. We simply must wait until the gods deem fit for us to… what did you call it? Interfere?”
Baylin chuckled. “Yes, I suppose I did.”
King Rydel called out a phrase in elvish in a commanding tone. All the elves who had brought food and drink began gathering up their wares and returning to the darkness of the forest.
Faylen walked up to Baylin. “Good luck, young Prince.” She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. She turned to Ferric. “And you, guard of Grasmere. May blessings be with you as well.” She touched his arm gently. She then turned and disappeared into the darkness of the forest.
The King walked gracefully to the edge of the forest, turned and bowed to Baylin. “May the gods smile upon you, son of Ashmur. I believe we shall meet again, very soon.” He spun and disappeared into the darkness of the forest without a sound.
Baylin and his men stared quietly at the forest edge for a few minutes, absorbing all that had occurred. Except for the sound of birds singing and the occasional snort of a horse, the company sat in complete silence waiting for their Prince to act.
Ferric approached Baylin first. “Your Grace, what should we do? Mirstone will eventually move on Grasmere.”
Baylin pondered the scenario carefully. Grasmere is larger than Mirstone. If they ever hope to take the Kingdom, they will have to bring every man, weapon and horse. There would be no way of getting such a large army through Fagin Forest. “They will go by water.”
“Your Grace?” Ferric questioned. “What do you speak of?”
“Mirstone has no chance of getting their entire army through the forest and they know this. They will take the Crystal Waters and the current will be against them,” Baylin explained. “With the delay the elves have provided us, and the fact that they will have to go by boat, it will take them several weeks to mount an attack on Grasmere. That gives us time to plan.”
One of the old generals walked up and bowed. “My Prince, with all due respect, what is there to plan? They are no real threat to the Kingdom.”
The Prince spun and faced the man. “No threat? They control all the fruit production for all five of the Kingdoms. They also have the largest mounted fleet in the Kingdoms.”
“Yes, but that will not cause much damage to the Kingdom,” the general argued. “We will be safe in the castle for months on our stores. We can wait them out.”
“And what of the people?” Baylin questioned through gritted teeth. “The castle is not large enough to shelter all who live within Grasmere. What of the families we have sworn to protect?”
“Sacrifices must be made,” the man replied.
The Prince grabbed the older man by the cuff of his tunic and pulled him in close. “I will not sacrifice even one of my subjects if it can be avoided. Is that understood?”
The general’s eyes grew wide and sweat formed on his forehead. “Yes, Your Grace. My sincere apologies.”
Baylin threw the man back. “Get on your horse and prepare to ride.”
“So…” Ferric tried to hold in a smile. “I guess it’s time to go home.”
Baylin raised an eyebrow at Ferric and shook his head while letting out a sigh. He jumped onto his horse and shouted out, “Mount up! It’s time to go home.”