38

Sacrifice

Coriander couldn't understand the Emperor's haste. He had been so adamant about coming to Darrion that surely he wouldn't wish to leave after just a few short weeks? He had expected to stay at least a full moon, if not two.

Granted, if leaving the city meant fewer attempts on his life, he would take it.

According to Finore, the assassin had swallowed some type of poison that took her life quickly. Having failed to kill the target, her bounty would be lost. Failure would have meant that if she hadn't ended herself, the one who had paid her surely would have.

Were it not for the healers of Darrion, Coriander may have died alongside her. As if fate desired him to live, they had been helping another elf just outside the boat Coriander had been attacked on. They could offer no such service for the would-be assassin.

The dark-skinned, black haired woman didn't look familiar to Coriander. Nor did she have anything on her that would identify her to any of the other commanders or elves of Enoth. She had been unceremoniously buried at sea.

He couldn't think about such things now that he had a job to do.

A letter had arrived that morning to give the command and Coriander was always true to his orders: prepare to leave first thing in the morning. Every elf must report before nightfall to their boat. Just like at their arrival, the docks of Lone Peak were a flurry of activity. Barrels and crates of various sizes and stocked with all sorts of goods and other items were being loaded down onto the boats.

In fact, Coriander noted, much more was being taken back to Enoth than what they had brought. The shipments all were quite similar as well. They had brought a variety of cloth, stonework, and other decorative items from the empire. Some of the best Coriander had ever seen.

What they were bringing back was dry goods, grain, wood, and other foodstuffs. He knew the state of the resources in some of the cities was beginning to be a concern, but this felt like overkill. Surely the Empire didn't need to feed their expedition four times over?

No matter.

There was little time to worry about what supplies were being packed onto the ships. The general's main concern now was how the ships were actually going to float with so much cargo being loaded on. Space was sparse on their voyage in. Now many of the elves would be sleeping on top of crates of supplies instead of bunks.

He had just directed three large carts of grain towards the ship Victory's Song when Evelyn came walking quickly towards him, a letter in her hand.

“From the emperor,” she said, saluting as she handed him the parchment.

Coriander furrowed his brow as he took the message. Another command? He read the writing twice just to be sure he understood, before looking up at Evelyn, perplexed.

“Not everyone is returning to Enoth,” he said slowly.

She blinked at him before asking, “Sir?”

To be sure he understood, Coriander again glanced at the note. In His Excellency's hand and emblazoned with his own signature, the order was right in front of him. The soldiers were to stay. All others were headed back. Three more ships of Coriander's best were on their way to Lone Peak. They would be arriving before nightfall.

“But,” Evelyn said as he read the note to her once more. “That doesn't sound like diplomacy. That sounds like...”

“War,” Coriander finished.

He couldn't take it in. Would the emperor truly be so rash as to prepare for war? And without the council of his general, or even the knowledge? What was the reason for it?

None came to his mind.

“This is not sane,” Coriander said softly. “The emperor cannot truly mean war.”

He folded the message back neatly and stuffed it into his coat pocket.

“Come with me,” he told Evelyn. “We're going to His Excellency right away. We have to stop this.”

"Stop..." Evelyn repeated slowly, fear in her eyes. "The emperor?"

Coriander looked at her gravely.

"This is wrong," he said in reply. "If there are lives to be saved, we must. Darrion has done no wrong to us. I'm sure Cedric has convinced His Excellency of some mad plot. We must talk reason to him."

He strode off, but not before passing on the plans to pack to Finore, who was near enough to give the order to after taking several long strides.

His other commander saluted, looking just as worn down as Coriander felt.

The docks were still a bustle of activity, so walking through the elves who were busy packing was not as quick as Coriander felt like walking. Many cleared their path in order to allow the general to pass, but others who drove large carts or carried heavy loads were unable to step aside.

Their temporary slow pace caused Coriander to look to his right and see something odd. Ten or twelve priests were gathered around a small group of people over by the orange ship. Then a flail swung high and crashed onto a priest.

Coriander began to move in the direction of the commotion. In their two week stay at Lone Peak, Coriander had not witnessed so much as an argument between the residents of the city and any elves of the empire. Whatever was happening across the dock had gone far beyond a disagreement.

Evelyn was at his heels.

"What's going on?" she shouted behind him.

"Something with the priests of the comet," Coriander answered.

He wasn't sure what propelled him forward. He did not know why he was running in the direction of the priests when all he attempted to do since arriving at Lone Peak was avoid their presence. He had just stepped onto the same dock as the priest's ship when he saw the blade flash and be driven into the back of a robed figure. An exceptionally tall orange clad priest was the one who had delivered the blow.

Coriander broke into a run.

The body of the figure was falling into the water as he came upon the priest.

"Cedric!" he yelled as he came up to the elf. Two women and an unconscious elf were being dragged into the priest’s ship. "What is the meaning of this?"

The tall elf turned and glared at Coriander with disgust.

"None of your concern," he replied.

Coriander brought himself to his full height.

"You have no authority over me, you crazed zealot," he shouted. "I just watched you murder someone! You'll be held accountable for your actions!"

The priest's face burst into a wicked smile.

"Oh, didn't you hear, Coriander?" he said menacingly. "I am acting on the orders of His Excellency

"I've been tasked with leading the armies that will arrive by nightfall," Cedric said. "A time of cleansing has come to Irradan."

Coriander shook his head. It could not be possible.

"His Excellency would never condone such actions," he said, pointing a finger at the tall priest.

"For the good of our people, I'm afraid I must," said a voice from behind him.

In his rage at Cedric, Coriander had not heard the approaching of the emperor's party.

"Step aboard the ship, General Coriander," Rophilborn said with a calm voice. "I will answer your questions. I hope you will continue to do as your employer commands."

Stunned, Coriander looked from Cedric to the Emperor in disbelief.

"Evelyn," Rophilborn said to the commander. "Thank you for delivering my message."

Coriander turned to his commander. He had a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach and this was his moment to act.

"Please complete the task assigned to you," he said. "I'm sure your presence won't be needed aboard."

Rophilborn looked from Coriander to Evelyn and nodded in agreement.

For the span of a breath, Evelyn looked quizzical. She then saluted Coriander, bowed to the emperor, and made her way back to Lone Peak.

With malice showing on every part of his face, Cedric motioned to his ship.

"After you," he said, obviously enjoying the look of utter bewilderment on Coriander's face. "General."

Coriander stared at the three prisoners the priest had brought on board. A woman, a Wood Walker, and a female elf who looked like she belonged to neither the Empire of Enoth nor of the forest elves.

"What wrong have they committed?" he inquired. "For what reason are we holding them behind bars?"

The Emperor stepped forward and considered them.

"They are spies," he said simply. "They seek to undo all that which I have planned. Their meddling would take us many years to recover."

Coriander looked at the three of them and felt pity. One lay unconscious on the floor. She was the obvious Wood Walker. The other two set grim faced against the wall and stared back at them determinedly.

"We are no spies," the woman with dark short hair said.

"Just this morning you told the House of Nobles in my presence that you had gone to seek the Wood Walkers and their counsel," Cedric said. "You would cause disunity between the empire and its new friends in Darrion."

Coriander did not like the inflection Cedric used on the word 'friends.'

"We are inhabitants of Ruyn and only seek peace between peoples," she replied.

Coriander could tell this was no ordinary warrior. Something about her seemed regal. She was too proud to be a simple knight.

"Peace will not sustain us," Rophilborn said.

He turned away from the three prisoners and walked towards the stairs.

"From Ruyn, you say?" he asked without looking at them. "You have all that you need on Ruyn."

"War and demons," the dark haired woman replied bitterly.

"Maybe so," Rophilborn said with a sniff. "But also food, water, grain, and wood."

He turned to face them again.

"These are what we lack here. The people of Darrion have enough to keep a few of our cities going for just a season longer. We need far more than our riches can buy. We need the forest."

Rophilborn took several steps towards the cell.

"Our cities grow and prosper and I will not see my people live in poverty. The empire of Enoth once spanned this entire continent. I will reclaim what was taken from us and see our glory restored to its fullest height. I will have my people inherit the life that was promised to them by our ancestors. I will take the woods from elves who would rather worship trees than see them put to higher purpose."

"Reclaiming cities takes armies. Armies need food. We have come to get the sustenance we need. A hundred years ago we reclaimed our lost cities to the south. It has taken all of our resources to do so. If we are to reclaim our inheritance, we need more."

Coriander was looking hard at his emperor. He had participated in the rations, even helped write the plans for them. He hadn't known that they were in such dire straits. Coriander couldn't bear that they were his people's own fault.

"You would rather see an entire race of elves die before amending the damage we have caused? If we are the root of the problem, why can it not be us that solves it, rather than make it worse?"

Rophilborn turned towards Coriander and stood up straight.

"General, you have faithfully served me for hundreds of years. You have trained my men and led us in victory against those who would have sought to rise up against the might of their own people. You will not now abandon your emperor in his time of greatest need, will you?"

Coriander was beyond words.

How could he have been so blind to what the emperor was doing? How could he now call an elf his ruler, with whom he disagreed with so completely?

The wars to the south had been his greatest achievement. He had thought he was reunifying a nation, not enabling the destruction of others.

He stood up as straight as he could and looked into the eyes of the emperor, he had thought to be the gracious ruler of Enoth and saw instead, a tyrant. One who would willingly throw away others who stood in between him and his goal.

"I cannot call one who is unwilling to sacrifice for the good of his own people my emperor."

The pain in his back was immediate and fierce. The sharp pain of the knife plunged deep into him. He felt all the air escape his lungs at once. Above the place the assassin had buried her poisoned knife, a blade found what hers had not. At once, Coriander knew it was Cedric's blade that had cut him. He reached behind him futilely, seeing blackness encompass him.

“Then what use are you?” the priest whispered in Coriander's ear, before removing the knife forcefully. The general could feel his blood escaping his body in hot waves.

The woman behind the bars let out a yell of rage.

Coriander, greatest of elven generals fell to his knees. With his last dying breath, he heard the voice of his emperor speaking over him.

"You are wrong, my oldest friend," Rophilborn said with a true tone of regret in his voice. "I am willing to sacrifice much for the elves of Enoth."