31. Twenty-Eight

Word reached us the following day that what remained of the Runecleaver and Wolfheart forces had retreated to Valdrenn, a well-built fort to the northeast. From there, they'd likely be able to harass any supplies coming down from the Stoneriver stores, but there was nothing to be done for it. The first snow fell the night before, and with it, the beginning of winter. As king, I could change a great many things about elves, but one thing would always remain true: we didn't fight well in the winter.

So, the decision was made to hold Calibarra, and to train our forces. Once the spring thaw was upon us, we would march for Valdrenn and eliminate Klaus and Vinolia before marching on the capital.

Less than a week after the battle, I received word from the Longclaws, along with their promise of support. Not to be outdone, the Northfire mages responded in kind soon after, pledging their mages to my cause.

Only two clans remained undeclared: the Craiggybottoms and the Redrocks, and I hoped desperately to hear from the former sooner rather than later. While the Stonerivers had given us plenty of supplies, we hadn't anticipated the number of escaped slaves who would trickle into Calibarra. There were more with every passing day arriving, asking to join the fight. Elves came too, of course, some from Ivygrass and some defecting from the Wolfhearts. Even a few Runecleavers saw the writing on the wall and chose to join us in the fight.

The night before Khulan and Ieduin were to depart, word came that a ship was spotted flying the Craiggybottom colors and bound for our harbor. I climbed the battlements to watch the ship pull in. She was a sloop with only a dozen people aboard, though she sailed heavy, hopefully with provisions. I had hoped for a larger vessel, but I wasn't surprised. A sloop would more easily evade detection if the Seashore clan had set up a blockade to the north.

I made my way down to the harbor, Elindir and Taelyn at my side. The bitter wind whipped at our cloaks as we strode across the frost-hardened ground. Small fishing boats bobbed in the choppy gray waters, but the Craiggybottom sloop dominated the modest pier, her green sails lashed tight. The crew had already begun unloading barrels and crates onto the weathered planks.

As I approached, a tall figure broke away from the ship and came striding towards us. The captain's face was weathered and lined, her skin bronzed by long hours spent under the sun and wind. Her eyes, a piercing gray, swept over the assembled crowd with a calculating gaze. She moved with the easy grace of one accustomed to the roll and pitch of a ship's deck, her boots thudding heavily on the wooden planks.

Behind her, a motley crew of sailors and warriors followed, their expressions ranging from wary to openly hostile. They were a rough-looking bunch, with scars and tattoos aplenty. Many bore the distinctive green and black colors of Clan Craiggybottom, while others wore an assortment of mismatched gear that spoke to a life spent on the high seas.

As the delegation approached, I stepped forward to greet them. "Welcome to Calibarra, Captain Yisra."

"Well met, King Ruith," Yisra said, her voice a low rasp. "And you must be Prince Elindir. I've heard much about you."

"Good of you to come, Captain Yisra," Elindir replied.

Yisra eyed Taelyn up and down. "And you must be the one they call the Castoff Queen."

Taelyn's eyes flashed at the moniker, her posture stiffening. For a moment, I thought she might lash out at the captain, but she composed herself quickly, inclining her head in a regal nod. "I am Queen Taelyn Wolfheart. You may address me as Your Grace."

Yisra barked out a laugh, the sound harsh and grating. "I like your spirit, girl. You wear your crown well."

Yisra's words hung in the frosty air between us, a challenge and an invitation all at once. I could see Taelyn bristling at the captain's casual irreverence, but there was something else in her eyes too—glimmer of intrigue, perhaps something even warmer.

"Your compliments are appreciated, Captain," Taelyn said coolly, "but I am not a girl . I am a queen, and I expect to be treated as such."

Yisra grinned, a flash of white teeth against her sun-bronzed skin. "There's nothing more beautiful than a woman who knows her own worth, I always say. You're a lady after my own heart, truly."

Taelyn's cheeks flushed, though whether from the cold or Yisra's bold words, I couldn't say. She drew herself up to her full height, fixing the captain with a piercing stare. "And I appreciate those who know their place, Captain. See that you remember yours."

Elindir and I exchanged a glance before he coughed into his fist. "I trust your journey wasn't too difficult, Captain?"

"Aye, but we might have been here sooner if not for the blockade the Seashores have set up to the east." She gestured back to her ship. "But we've come loaded with provisions, and there are two more of my ships close behind with even more. You and yours are welcome to it, provided we can settle on a fair price."

I almost sighed in relief. The promise of provisions was a welcome one.

"We are grateful for your assistance, Captain," I said. "Please, come inside so we may discuss the terms of our arrangement in more comfort."

Inside the keep, the air was blessedly warm after the biting cold of the courtyard. The scent of wood smoke and roasting meat wafted through the halls, making my stomach clench with hunger. We passed through the great hall, where the remnants of the morning meal still littered the long tables, and into a smaller chamber where a fire crackled in the hearth.

I took a seat at the head of the table, motioning for Yisra and the others to join me. The captain sat to my right, one leg crossed over the other, while Elindir took the seat to my left and Taelyn sat next to him.

"So," Yisra said, leaning back in her chair. "Let's talk business. My ships are laden with grain, salted meat, and dried fruits - enough to feed your people for a good long while. But I'm not running a charity here. I expect fair compensation for my goods and the risk I took in bringing them to you."

I nodded. "Of course, Captain. We are prepared to offer you a generous sum in gold and silver."

"That's well and good, but I'm sure you're aware that isn't the only thing I want," Yisra said. She lowered her boots to the floor and leaned forward. "I hear you're to end slavery. Is that true?"

"You have heard correctly, Captain Yisra," I said. "It is my intention to end the practice of slavery in my kingdom."

Yisra's eyes narrowed, her gaze sharpening with interest. "Bold words, King Ruith. But I'm sure you're aware that such a move will not be without its opponents. The noble houses and merchant guilds have grown fat and complacent on the backs of slave labor. They will not relinquish their power easily."

"I am well aware of the challenges we face," I assured her. "But it is a necessary change, and one that is long overdue. The practice of slavery is a blight upon our society, a festering wound that must be excised if we are to move forward."

"Aye, on that we agree," said the captain. "But the question is whether you can get it done. See, even as king, you'll be beholden to the clan patriarchs and matriarchs. You'd need a majority vote to pass such a measure. How do you plan on achieving that in the legislature? The Runecleavers, Clan Ivygrass, and Clan Seashore will certainly oppose you, and they've got a good bit of pull with the others."

"I intend to expand the council," I announced, and her eyes widened. "I will name a representative for half-elves, and eventually the formation of a clan that will welcome them as full members. Clan Deepfrost will be defunct and the Runecleavers will have a new clan leader once the fighting is done. I have pledges from Northfire and Longclaw already. That gives me a majority in the council, especially since I'm told the Craiggybottom clan has long been a friend to those fleeing the bonds of servitude."

Yisra's eyes softened, a flicker of warmth passing over her stern features. "Aye, we've done what we can to help those poor souls. No one should have to endure the hell of slavery. I've seen firsthand the scars it leaves, both visible and not. The haunted looks, the flinches at sudden movements, the way they hoard scraps of food as if terrified it will be snatched away..." She shook her head, her jaw clenching. "It's a monstrous thing, slavery. An abomination that must be stamped out. So I agree with your position on principle. However, we've been leading this fight in the Hall of Wisdom for two generations and never gotten it to a vote, let alone gotten a measure passed. You'll understand that we're wary."

"I understand your wariness, Captain," Elindir said. "But I give you my word, as a man who has known the lash and the chain, that I will not rest until every last slave in this kingdom is free. I have seen too much, endured too much, to ever allow this abomination to continue unchallenged."

Yisra studied Elindir for a long moment. Finally, she nodded. "I believe you, Prince Elindir. I can see the truth of it in your eyes. You've got the look of a man who's been through the fire and come out the other side." She leaned back in her chair, her fingers drumming a staccato rhythm on the polished wood of the table. "Very well. The Craiggybottom Clan is happy to lend our support to you, King Ruith, and to supply your regime with both goods and ships."

She extended her hand, and I took it, standing.

With their support, the last piece of my plan had finally snapped into place. We might have lost the Wolfhearts along the way, but even that hadn't been enough to make victory impossible.

We spent the next hours ironing out the details of our arrangement—the quantities of supplies, the routes and schedules for delivery, the terms of payment—and then drank long into the night, getting very little sleep.

Dawn broke cold and gray, the weak winter sun struggling to make an appearance. I woke with a pounding head, the result of too much wine and too little sleep. Beside me, Elindir stirred, his red hair tousled from sleep. We dressed quickly, the chill air biting at our skin as we made our way out into the courtyard.

Khulan and Ieduin were already there, their horses saddled and laden with provisions for the long journey north. Altani stood beside her uncle, her small hand clasped tightly in his. Tears glistened on her cheeks, but she held her head high, determined to be brave in the face of their parting.

Aryn and Katyr were there too, their faces somber as they said their goodbyes. Ieduin embraced them both, whispering words of comfort and reassurance with a bold smile.

I approached Ieduin and Khulan, my breath misting in the frigid air. Ieduin turned to me, their usual playful grin on their lips, but I could see the flicker of worry in their eyes, the slight tension in their shoulders that betrayed their unease.

"Come to see me off on my grand adventure?" Ieduins said, their voice light and teasing.

I clasped Ieduin's shoulder firmly. "I have indeed. I wanted to bid you safe travels, and to remind you to behave yourself. The north can be a dangerous place, and I need you to keep your wits about you."

Ieduin laughed. "Oh, you know me, Ruith. I'm the very soul of discretion and good behavior."

I snorted, shaking my head. "That is precisely what worries me."

Ieduin's grin widened, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes—a hint of the uncertainty that lurked beneath his carefree facade. He glanced over at Khulan, who was kneeling to embrace Altani one last time. "Something tells me I'll be just fine."

"Ieduin." Elindir extended his hand, but Ieduin bypassed it entirely, instead pulling Elindir into a fierce embrace. Elindir stiffened for a moment, caught off guard, but then his arms came up to return the hug. "Be well, my friend. And keep those northerners on their toes."

Ieduin pulled back, grinning widely. "You know I will. The Yeutlands won't know what hit it."

I sighed and shook my head. "Just try not to start any diplomatic incidents, will you? We've got enough trouble as it is."

"I make no promises," Ieduin said with a wink.

"Do not worry," Khulan said, approaching. "I'll take good care of your little sibling. I swear on my life and my honor as a prince, no harm will come to them while I draw breath to protect them."

I clasped Khulan's arm, meeting his steady gaze. "I will hold you to it, then."

With a final embrace, Ieduin and Khulan mounted their horses. Altani, her small face streaked with tears, waved bravely as her uncle and Ieduin rode out through the gates, their cloaks snapping in the icy wind. We watched until they disappeared into the swirling snow, the clatter of hooves fading into the muffled silence of winter.

I turned to head back inside, but paused when a shout rang out from the battlements above.

"Rider approaching!"

I spun around, my hand instinctively going to the hilt of my sword. Beside me, Elindir tensed, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the horizon.

A lone horse galloped into view, its rider slumped over the neck, barely clinging to the reins. As the horse drew closer, I could make out the tattered remnants of a banner fluttering from the rider's lance—a black turtle on a field of green. Turtlefall colors.

The horse stumbled to a halt before us, its sides heaving and flecked with sweat despite the cold. The rider swayed dangerously as I approached, his head lolling to the side. He was young, his face drawn and pale beneath the dirt and blood that streaked his skin. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, his breaths coming in short, shallow gasps.

I reached out to steady him, his hands gripping the rider's shoulders. "What news from Homeshore?"

The rider's lips moved soundlessly for a moment, his throat working as he struggled to form words. Then, in a voice that was little more than a ragged whisper, he spoke. "Homeshore has fallen."

A shocked murmur rippled through the gathered soldiers.

"What do you mean, fallen?" Elindir demanded. "I thought they were neutral!"

The rider shuddered. "An army... a great host... They came in the night. Thousands upon thousands, an endless sea of torches and steel. Great hulking boats with sails that blacked out the sky."

The rider's words sent a chill down my spine, colder than the biting wind that whipped at my cloak. "Boats? What host? What army? Under what banners did the elves march?"

The rider's head lolled back, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment before he forced them open again. "There was only one banner." He drew in a shuddering breath, his voice barely more than a whisper. "It was not an army of elves that came upon us, but an army of men. Their banner bore a white field with a golden shield, upon which was emblazoned an eight-pointed star."

"The Order of the Divine Sheild," Elindir whispered. "But…that cannot be. The High Octarian disbanded the order a century ago after the last Savarran Crusade."

I turned to him with a frown. "You know this order?"

Elindir nodded gravely. "Every child in the Free Cities knows the tales from the Age of Heroes when brave knights rode against the Savarran kings to reclaim the holy land. Tell me, rider, who commanded this army?"

The rider's eyes were wide and haunted, his voice barely more than a hoarse whisper. "The king... he wore a silver mask, like a skull. It glinted in the torchlight, cold and lifeless. And beside him... a mage cloaked in shadows, wielding dark magic the likes of which I've never seen."

Elindir stiffened. "It's Michail. He's here."

TO BE CONTINUED IN…

THE WAR OF FOUR WINTERS