trunk was as big around as some of the smaller castle towers Phen had seen. It stood majestically among the other trees like a king among peasants. At its base, a tangle of roots twisted their way into the ground. Phen slid off of Arf and made Dostin give Yip’s back a rest, as well. The two great wolves immediately bounded into the forest to snatch a meal.
Queen Mother Telgra disappeared through an archway formed by the roots of the Heart Tree. Phen saw her hair reflect off a shaft of golden sunlight as she continued past the Heart Tree trunk to disappear into the forest beyond. Phen took a breath and was about to ask one of the guards if there was any food about when half of the elven escort gasped in unison.
Phen turned to see Dostin sitting in the throne-like seat formed by the tree’s roots. The elves seemed shocked, or afraid to say anything, and a few of them exchanged disturbed looks. Phen understood that the simple-minded monk was sitting in Telgra’s throne.
“By the Heart of Arbor,” one of the elves said. “I never thought I’d see such a thing.”
“It’s the prophecy, I'm sure of it,” said another.
“What prophecy?” Phen asked. Before the elves could answer he spoke kindly to Dostin. “Get out of the Queen Mother’s throne. By the gods, do you have no manners?” Dostin jumped up quickly. His face reddened and he looked around sheepishly.
“I didn’t know,” he said. Then to Phen, “I’m hungry.”
“I’m hungry, too, Dostin.” Phen forced a smile. “After they tell me about their prophecy, maybe they can find us something to eat.”
One of the elves barked an order in the old language and two of their number moved off into the forest. The elf who issued the command looked at Phen sadly. Phen thought his name was Gaveon, but he wasn’t sure.
“The prophecy says that when a human sits upon the throne of Arbor the time of elves in this land has begun its end. Those who survive this darkness might return here only to find that the Heart of Arbor has moved on without them.”
“But isn’t the Arbor Heart somewhere else already?” Phen asked. “I read that the heart of the forest is not truly where it is, that it can sort of be moved to another forest if a need arises.”
“It is so,” the elf answered. “But if it were to move without us, then we would be left behind. It could take us a thousand years of searching forest after forest until we found it again.”
“The Arbor Heart could appear in a forest we’ve already searched after we have moved on,” another elf added.
“Then so be it,” Queen Mother Telgra said as she stepped back through the root-formed arch.
Two elves stepped out of the forest looking bloody and tired, then another, and another. From behind them, a small group of seven or eight became visible as they moved through the trees.
“We will go to the human city and fight beside them, if not for any other reason than to restore our honor.” Telgra’s voice rose as she spoke. She leapt gracefully up onto a root, and climbed even higher on the tangle of roots as she continued. “We have let ourselves down. We have let the Heart of Arbor down. Already our demonic foe has tainted the soil here. The fiery trees of Salaya were all but ruined, and the Heart of Arbor struggles to beat while the blood of demons chokes up in its roots.”
More elves came out of the forest as she spoke, not many, not nearly enough, but the ones who came were soldiers, freshly proven on the black blood of hellspawn. Swordsmen, hunters, archers, and a few of the older magi came out of the woods, too. By the time the Queen Mother was ending her speech there were two hundred battle- ready elves gathered around her. At some point, while she spoke, the great wolves returned.
“…if the Arbor Heart has moved on by the time we return, then that is the price we pay for our arrogance and betrayal of those who sought our aid before.” She hardened her look. “I am not ordering any of you, but those who do not march with me to defend the Wardstone from our enemies are nothing to me.”
Phen was swollen with the pride her words inspired, and the determined look on her face was unyielding.
“I’m the Queen Mother, and as long as the Arbor Heart pulses through my veins I will remain such. Those who wish to rise above our past should gather the rations and weapons you’ll need. It is a long run to Xwarda. I can only hope we get there in time.”
Chapter 55
Gerard’s legions devoured the farming and trading community of Kastia like a plague. Lord Gregory’s decision to send Dreen’s city guard and as many soldiers as could be mustered ahead to defend Xwarda saved most of the common folk between the two cities. Some, though, thought to defend their homes. The foresters of Tip sent their women and children to Southron, and then stood in defiance. They lasted about as long as it takes to draw a breath, but unlike many, they died defending the life they loved, not running and afraid.
The people of Tarn and the Pixie River fisher folk weren’t as bold. Two years before, Pael’s army had marched through and now there was an obvious lack of young, hearty men willing to fight. Most of them made the day-long ride to the safety of Xwarda’s walls, hurrying along behind the Valleyan soldiers Lord Gregory sent. Those who waited too long were consumed by the Warlord’s horde.
The large city of Platt acted as Xwarda’s main trade center. Queen Willa didn’t allow mercantile activity outside and along the city walls. This prevented the chaotic and often unclean huddle towns from forming around Xwarda’s main gates. People either traded inside the walls in an establishment, or in the open market that Platt had become. The people of Platt acted in a completely different manner than those who lived in Xwarda. Though the Queen had opened the gates for all who sought protection, there were many merchants with warehouses full of stores. Most of them hired sellswords to guard their goods. Platt, after all, had a solid wall around it, too. These men were just starting to recuperate from the devastation Pael had brought. Having rebuilt their inventories of goods, and stockpiled grain, oats and other staples for the long winter months, they were reluctant to abandon everything a second time.
They should have.
Platt’s wall stood twelve feet tall and was built of solid stone blocks. Though it did a superb job deterring bandits and thieves, it fell over like a picket fence under a stampede.
The Warlord’s legions left nothing but blood, death, and destruction in their wake as they rolled through the place like a bloody tidal wave.
Queen Rosa’s mother, Queen Rachel, had sent the bulk of Seaward’s soldiers to help defend the Wardstone. She did this of her own accord, after her mage told her of Sir Hyden Hawk Skyler’s warning. They had taken too long to muster. Now, as the head of the five-thousand-man column was approaching Xwarda’s southern gate, the rear of the procession was falling prey to some of the Warlord’s winged beasts.
The hellspawn and demon kind bound to travel by hoof, claw, and undulating slither were closing in on the city’s western gate. At both places, swarms of Blacksword soldiers were pouring out to meet the dark enemy. Accompanying Queen Willa’s elite troops were a few thousand dwarven axemen. Along the top of the sixty-foot- high granite walls, both human and elven archers, a few dozen breed giant dragon gunners, and small groups of robed wizards hurried into position to lend their spells and shafts to the defense of the powerful bedrock. Above the shouts and commands, alarm bells and short horn bursts shrilled and gonged the armies of the realm into position.
The High King stood atop a blocky crenelated tower at the southwestern corner of the city, watching it all unfold. He could see the Seaward men being decimated by lavender and crimson blasts of dark magic. They fought hard, but swooping clawed monsters snatched men from their mounts and hurled them like so much fodder. He shook his head. They would have been a welcome addition to the defense had they arrived in time to enter the city and organize. Maybe only half of them were going to get the chance to form ranks and make a stand, and those only because of the Blacksword troops pouring out to aid them.
The idea of sending dwarves and swordsmen out to meet the hellspawn army bothered Mikahl. General Wisikman, Queen Willa’s newest commander, had explained that, with the addition of the elves and all the human refugees to the overcrowded city’s numbers, they had no choice. The streets, alleys, and even the long, wide tunnels that led east under the walls toward Jenkanta were already packed full of refugees.
