Jakob and Damaeon sat close to each other, mulling over various maps of the area. In the days since Leila had left, the elven scouts had reported movement from inside the occupied city of Oponoe. The Huryl were preparing for another attack, and this time they were looking east, towards the Elven Forest.
When news of this threat reached the elves, the Queen immediately sent word to Damaeon that the old alliance would continue to hold, and that the elves would not abandon the Dyrel in their most desperate hour. Refugees from Oponoe poured into the forest, guided by elven scouts, and a sizeable army of Dyrel and elves was cobbled together. As Jakob and Damaeon hammered out their defenses, Cyrus and Safyra had the task of training their new soldiers to defend the forest and reclaim Oponoe.
Jakob slammed his fist on the table and growled in angry frustration. He paced back and forth a few times like a caged animal before sighing loudly and returning to the table where Damaeon sat among the maps.
“We don’t have enough troops,” Jakob said. “We may be able to keep them out of the forest, but I don’t see how we can take the city.”
Damaeon frowned. “What are they after, I wonder?”
“You, most likely,” Jakob replied. “They may have Oponoe, but as long as you’re around they’ll never have the Dyrel.”
“I suppose so,” the prince gave a wry smile. “I guess Leila’s peace talks didn’t work.”
Jakob looked pained. “We can’t worry about Leila until we’re out of this mess. Will and Fynn will look out for her.”
It sounded like he spoke more to reassure himself than the troubled prince, who nodded. “You’re right, of course.”
The door to the room opened and an elf stuck her head in. “Forgive me, Your Highness, but Master Xair is here.”
As the elf moved out of the way, Xair shuffled into the room. He made his way slowly to the table where Damaeon and Jakob stood, inclining his head respectfully toward the human prince.
“Her Majesty would like to hear your plans,” Xair said, glancing at the map strewn table. “Our scouts and spies have reported that nearly two-thirds of the Huryl force at Oponoe will march towards our forest.”
Jakob growled angrily and began to pace once more. Damaeon smiled at Xair, offering him a seat while the old elf took. As a servant brought them some refreshments, the prince sat across from Xair and began to explain their troubling situation.
“With so few solider, we cannot hope to hold the forest and save Oponoe,” Damaeon finished, his voice full of regret.
Xair shook his head slowly. “The elves will continue to honour the old alliances, Prince. We expect the Dyrel to do the same.”
Damaeon sighed. “Of course. Assure Her Majesty that we have no intention of abandoning the Elven Forest to the Huryl. We can hold against - ”
Xair raised a hand to silence the prince and shook his head again. A smile played across his thin lips.
“That is not what I meant,” the old elf interrupted. “The Huryl are leaving the city to track you here. While their forces are divided, it will be the perfect opportunity for you to take your forces and liberate your city.”
Jakob stared at the elf in shock, scarcely believing what he was hearing. Damaeon looked equally confused.
“You want us to abandon the forest?” Damaeon asked. “Our army is largely made up of elves. Would they follow?”
Xair nodded. “The army will stay as it is, and both elf and Dyrel will fight for you. As for the forest, we will be able to hold off the invaders. Now that our Queen is restored, she can maintain the border shield almost without help. The rest will be up to us, with some help from the White Lady.”
“The White
Lady?” Jakob repeated. “Leila? She isn’t even here!”
“The White Lady is
everywhere,” Xair replied confidently, rising to his feet. “Prepare your
invasion, Dyrel Prince. The elves will defend their home.”
The old elf inclined his head respectfully to the two humans and slowly walked out of the room, leaving Jakob and Damaeon staring after him in surprise.
Preparations for the battle moved more quickly after that. As Cyrus and Safyra stepped up the training of the mismatched army, elven scouts continued to provide information on the Huryl movements. The city of Oponoe was being held by a small force of about seven hundred troops, under the command of Jakob’s father, Roric. The Huryl Queen has ordered Roric to burn the Elven Forest and the Spirit Wood to the ground, and drive out the Dyrel refugees and their prince. Roric was then ordered, according to the spies, to execute Damaeon and his advisors, and wipe out the elven race.
Damaeon had paled at the report but his face remained expressionless. Jakob was seething with rage, which he did not express until he and the prince were alone.
“Kill all the elves? Burn the forests? Kill you? What is this mad queen thinking?” Jakob fumed later that night.
Damaeon sat on a wooden chair before a crackling fire, watching his friend pace. He found himself missing the steady presence of Clothis behind him, reassuring and calm against Jakob’s raw fury. The prince thought nothing of the threat against his life, but was more worried for his people and the elves. He looked down at the written dispatch on his lap, scanning the words for the hundredth time.
“The spies report only a skeleton guard will remain at Oponoe,” Damaeon red, trying to sound optimistic. “They guess about three hundred will stay behind when the rest march on the Forest.”
Jakob sat down across from the prince, resting his elbows on his knees and tenting his fingers in front of his face, exhaling in a long, weary sigh.
“That still leaves four hundred troops for the elves to deal with,” Jakob mused. “Will the Queen be able to keep that many at bay?”
“I believe so,” Damaeon replied. “The Queen is of the elldar, after all. The ancient elven race is known for their strength and resourcefulness. We won’t be leaving them defenseless.”
Jakob still had his doubts, but the young man seated across from him was the prince, after all. The decision was ultimately his. Jakob leaned back in his chair and nodded slowly.
“Right,” the former Huryl said. “When the Huryl leave the city for the Forest, I’ll lead our army to Oponoe’s gates while a small team sneaks in through the back. The Huryl will be occupied with the frontal assault and not notice our secondary force until it’s too late. Cyrus and Safyra can handle that group, I think.”
“No,” Damaeon disagreed. “You should lead the second team, Jakob.”
“And Cyrus will lead the assault? No offence, but he’s never led an army before.”
“No, Cyrus will go with you,” the prince ordered. “I will lead our army. Safyra will stay here to defend her home.”
Jakob shook
his head. “I really don’t think … “
“The Huryl need to see me,”
Damaeon interrupted. “The Dyrel held captive in the city need to see me. If
they see their prince returning, it will give them hope.”
“You’ll be an easy target,” Jakob warned.
“I’ll be fine,” he insisted. “You and Cyrus will sneak through the back way and stop the Huryl commander.”
“My father,” Jakob added bitterly.
“You don’t have to kill him. Make him yield. We’ll be lenient.”
Jakob clenched his hands into fists and struck the arms of his chair in anger. “He will not yield.”
Two days later, the Dyrel-Elven army marched out of the Elven Forest, towards the occupied city of Oponoe. They moved silently as they had been trained to do, passing the advancing Huryl without problems. As the army turned to face the closed city gates, a small group of three figures broke away from the main force and stealthily headed towards the rear city wall. Jakob went first, followed by Cyrus and Safyra, who had refused to remain behind. Cautiously, they made their way to the partially concealed gate and waited.
They could see a few Huryl guards patrolling the wall. Safyra reached for her bow, but Jakob shook his head and the trio continued to wait in silence. Soon, a trumpet sounded from the front gate and shouts of attack echoed through the still air. A Huryl captain ran through the ranks of guards, ordering them to fortify the main gate, and Jakob watched with a smile on his face as the Huryl left three men to watch the back. Their lives were quietly ended with three of Safyra’s arrows, and the path to Oponoe became clear.
They moved quickly, keeping to the shadows although the back of the palace was deserted. Jakob led them through the gardens and into the palace itself without passing a single soul.
“I mistrust this,” Safyra whispered. “Not all the soldiers should be at the gate.”
“Keep moving,” Jakob replied. “The commander is probably in the throne room.”
They pushed through the doors leading into the great hall. Jakob froze where he stood as his companions pushed their way to either side of him. Safyra held her staff tightly as Cyrus drew his sword.
“Or,” Cyrus remarked, “he’s standing in the great hall with a dozen men.”
The trio held their ground as the twelve men charged at them. Cyrus and Safyra pushed past Jakob, who still stood in the doorway staring at his father. It wasn’t until the first Huryl was nearly upon him that he drew his weapon and killed the man effortlessly. As Cyrus and Safyra battled, Jakob made his way towards the centre of the room where Roric stood. Several more men tried to defend their leader, but Jakob quickly dispatched them all. He stood before Roric, sweat on his skin and blood dripping from his sword. Roric looked at his eldest son sadly.
“You wear a Dyrel uniform and slaughter your own countrymen,” the Huryl commander said.
“Surrender, and Prince Damaeon will be lenient,” Jakob replied, holding up his sword.
“You speak to your father for a foreign prince, against your rightful Queen?”
“You are no longer my father,” Jakob spat. “You made your choice between country and family, and so have I.”
Roric’s expression darkened and he drew his axe from his belt.
“If that is the only alternative,” he said in a voice heavy with regret, “so be it.”
As his companions fought the last of the soldiers, Jakob and Roric fought for the future of Oponoe.