Chapter One

Brae

I heard it as a sound, a whisper in the wind.

Above me, Ellod sat on the branch of a tree, an arrow notched in his bow. The thick leaves formed a canopy around him and the other archers, shielding them from view. I knew without looking that with the slightest noise, they would fire their arrows swifter than the air that passed through them. Their arms were taut upon the strings, gazes never wavering from what lurked below.

To my left, Baedren stood at the farthest edge of the vanguard, axe raised within his great hands. To my right stood Ildris, her hammer prepared to strike. They and thirty good hunters were behind us at the ready. I took the hilt of my sword and drew it from its sheath. We looked on, watching for them between the trees, beneath the shadows.

The snap of a twig and rustle of ferns turned my gaze to a tree twenty paces from where I stood. When the sun passed through in dappled light, I glimpsed its scourged hide, thick and marred from cuts of the sword. There were the daemon’s thin arms, sinewed and capable of taking down a fully grown man, claws sharp enough to tear through armor and flesh and bone. Its eyes were sunken yellow things, poor for seeing, though its nose could find us in the dark. It sniffed the air, catching our scent on it, drawing closer. It was alone, though its brethren would not be far behind.

I looked up towards the trees once more: Ellod caught my gaze, giving a low nod in my direction. I turned back to the beast, which had drawn itself back onto its haunches, ready to lunge forward and meet us. I raised my hand slowly, waiting for the moment to give an order to strike.

From the shadows, another daemon leapt out, knocking the sword from a hunter and sending him sprawling upon the forest floor. Baedren’s axe cleaved the beast through the head in one stroke. The daemon ahead saw this, letting out a roar at the death of its kind, one that echoed throughout the forest. It raced forward, seeking blood.

“Attack!”

A volley of arrows were released, each one catching the beast in the head, the neck, its back, and between the eyes. It collapsed to the ground not a foot from me, blood issuing from its jaw, dark and acrid smelling. The daemon’s cry had not gone unheard, as more of the beasts arrived. Those that did not fall under arrows pushed against our ranks, seeking to break us apart. The hunters around me grew tighter, closing each space to not give an inch for the beasts to pass.

Two went after Ildris as her hammer swung, breaking teeth and crushing bone. I took my sword to another, blocking its claws from tearing through the thick leather of my armor, then drove the blade across its throat. I watched it fall back, disappearing in the ranks of daemons that swelled forth like a tide, threatening to overtake us entirely.

Daemons swarmed the trunks of the trees, seeking the high branches to drag hunters down from their perch. Ellod stayed lower than the other archers, though his aim never missed its mark. I could hear him yelling commands above the din, and a second volley of arrows pierced the hides of even the thickest skinned beasts. Any daemon that managed to avoid this was met with the bite of steel from a sword or dagger in its place.

The brutish ones were the first to be felled, scattered like leaves at our feet; it was the smarter ones that eluded us. They were the beasts which learned to move as we swung our swords, dodging every movement with their own, anticipating each action before we made it ourselves. It only made them more cunning to how we fought against them. Of any daemons, they were most dangerous.

Across from me, a young lad tried to challenge such a daemon. It was nearly as tall as he was, limbs more muscled and nearly capable of standing on two feet like a human, eyes more adept at seeing the movements of its prey. Inexperienced as he was, he tried to swing his blade across the beast’s stomach, who turned its body from the attack to send him falling onto the ground.

I saw the look in his eyes as he went to reach for his sword, how they widened when the daemon pushed the lad’s weapon out of reach, fear etched on every corner of his face. The beast seized him by the legs, dragging him into the forest. The lad screamed and clawed at dirt and roots for purchase, then all at once was stolen into the darkness.

In seconds, a breach was formed in our line, one that the demons widened further. The line of beasts split into two, pushing us back into the deepest part of the forest, wanting to trap us where we could not fight back against them. I carved a path for myself between the hunters and the daemons back towards Baedren and Ildris. Ildris did the same, calling out for the wounded to be carried to the edge of the forest and back down to our stronghold for healing.

I pulled hunters behind me and cut down daemons that came too close to my sword, moving forward inch by inch. I was nearly in the middle when a beast seized me, pulling at my armor. I pulled out a dagger from my side, meaning to sink the blade into its skin, but the daemon caught my wrist, holding it back as its claw went forward to tear at leather and chainmail. Before it did, I took my free hand and grasped the beast’s wrists as well, trying to free myself from its grip.

We pushed and pulled each other, trying to gain the upper ground. The daemon's jaws snapped as it tried to send me back onto the ground. Instead I leaned forward, delivering a sharp kick against its ribs. The kick threw the beast off guard, long enough for me to wrest myself free from its grip and plant my dagger in the junction between its shoulder and neck. The daemon's arm went out and knocked me onto the ground.

The beast wrapped its hand around the hilt of the blade, pulling it out slowly, steadily, looking at me as it did so; the daemon held the dagger out and stepped forward. I tried to stand, but it pinned me down before I could, its other arm going to my shoulder, the daemon aiming the blade there.

As it did, I twisted myself; the blade sunk into the earth instead. The daemon tried to strike again, but I drew my sword before it did, blocking its blow. It pressed harder, drawing closer until I could see each row of teeth, yellowed and jagged, smelling the stench of rotting flesh upon its breath. The beast snarled, frustrated, then wrapped its hand around my sword. As it tried to pry it from my grip, I held my blade just as tightly.

Then, there was a rush of wind; an arrow landed in the beast’s eye. It rolled off of me, screaming and writhing in pain. I watched as Baedren broke through the crowd, splitting the daemon at the waist. I rose to my feet and saw Ellod, his hand already fashioning another arrow into his bow. I gave him a smile and nod in turn, then took up my sword and rejoined the fray.

Some hunters tried to break ranks within the line of daemons, but were met with hundreds of teeth and dozens more claws. A daemon drew close enough to clamp its jaws ‘round the throat of a hunter, ignoring the scrabbling of her hands across its mouth, the tearing of skin with her knife. The beast shook her once, and the lass went still. Satisfied, the daemon released its grip, swiping its tongue across the edges of its lips, licking blood off its fingers.

Another hunter, Dalron, took the limp body in his arms, howling as he did. Hunters surrounded them so they would not fall prey to a second attack, cutting down any beast that smelled blood and came close. I glimpsed the boy holding her body close, the dead lasses’ eyes still open, staring up at nothing. Dalron called her name again and again, but no answer rose from her lips.

I took my dagger and threw it at the daemon; it landed in the beast’s mouth and out the back of its skull. A choking sound emitted from the beast before it fell, blood pooling beneath its head, the handle of the dagger standing out from the ground. I went to the body and pulled the dagger from its mouth. I heard a sound behind me and nearly drove the knife into Ildris before she stopped my hand.

“Brae,” she said, hammer streaked with blood. She was holding a hunter against her shoulder with a deep gash across their brow.

“We cannot hold them off much longer.”

I looked at her, and then I looked towards the East; there was a narrow path there, one that led out of the forest and down a steep slope towards the stronghold. If we were swift enough, we could break through the daemon’s line and reach there before they could destroy our lines entirely. If not, the beasts would trap us in the middle and drag our corpses back with them.

“Ithilians!” I cried out. The hunters turn their heads towards me.

“ Go back! Go back now!”

The archers jumped down from the trees, Ellod among them. The daemons leapt at them from the lowest branches, either cut down or pulling hunters by the legs into their fray. Ellod dove between one hunter and a demon, a long knife glinting as he caught the beast behind the neck. The beasts fell and Ellod sent them below before leaping down himself, running as soon as his feet were upon the ground. He curved a path outwards, going until he reached my side.

We ran forward, dodging saplings and overturned roots, hunters and daemons at our heels. The break in the forest was thirty paces away, the day’s light growing as we drew close. I felt the wind on my face as I pressed on harder, going faster so that the demons could not catch us. From the corner of my eye I saw Ellod, the faintest sheen of sweat upon his brow; he looked back at me, then turned his head away, trying to pass my stride.

The daemons arrived there first, barring our only exit. They clustered into a line, snapping and growling as they did. Fear went through me, tightening itself against my throat; I wanted to turn back from them, to not rush into my own death so swiftly. Only when I felt the weight of my sword in my hand did my courage return, and I raised the blade in front of me to meet the demons where they stood.

I went to the center of the line, severing enough hands and limbs to make a dent in their numbers. The hunters behind me did the same, pushing against the daemons in order to drive them down. When there was the slightest space, we tried to widen it as the daemons had, breaking them apart. Ellod moved towards the open path, taking me by the arm as he did. I went in front of him, cutting down any beast that tried to strike him first.

I watched Baedren go towards them, striking down daemons freely with his axe. When a daemon tried to climb atop his back, he reached his free arm behind him and threw the beast over his head; its body landed atop an upturned stone, back twisted at a sharp angle and neck lolled to the side.

“Spirits be,” Ellod said, eyes wide. "I forget how strong he is sometimes.”

Ellod led me towards the safety of a nearby tree. His sight caught a sturdy branch overhead, dark eyes already measuring its distance from the ground.

“Can you reach it?” I asked, though I already knew his answer.

Ellod turned to me and fixed his bow across his shoulder.

“Lift me up.”

I nodded, holding out my hands to him; he planted his boot upon them, the weight cushioned against my gloves. He was swift, hooking his legs ‘round the trunk, arms reaching towards the branch before pulling himself upon it. Other archers saw this and followed suit, weaving past the fighting and up into the trees, taking the high ground. Some were as swift as Ellod, while others tried to climb but were pulled back by the daemons and taken into their awaiting arms.

Arrows landed against the heads and stomachs of the daemons; it was enough to take out some, though not nearly enough to kill them all. I looked to Ellod above me and saw the dwindling supply in his quiver, how he hesitated before firing. The beasts grew increasingly vicious, ignoring each cut and stab of steel against their skin for the kill.

I ordered the hunters to break them apart again, but more of us fell by their hands than we could stave them off. What little space we had carved for ourselves between them becomes reduced to nothing. Dread returned to me, settling itself in the pit of my stomach.

They will not take us here, I thought, I pleaded. Not now.

The thought was broken by the sound of cries coming towards us, a hundred swords and axes brandished. I watched as hunters from the Second Legion of the forest came forth, crashing upon the daemons like a wave. That wave pushed the daemons back towards the deepest reaches of the forest. Our forces joined them, forming a circle that drew in closer with each step, cutting down any daemon that tried to escape.

I went forward, right into the very center of that circle, moving past hunters to sink my sword into the flesh of daemons bold enough to draw close. The archers held their arrows, seeing us take our advantage. The beasts became desperate, pushing and shoving each other, fighting for an escape. The hunters drove them back until they stood as a single unit, a target waiting to be struck.

I looked back up at Ellod, who drew the last arrow from his quiver, fixing it into his bow. I raised my hand to give the final signal.

“Loose!”

A dozen arrows sailed down, bringing down the demons with them. In twenty seconds, half of them were left; in thirty, only ten. Only when the last daemon was brought down did the circle break, and the hunters stepped back. Blood and entrails pooled beneath them, staining the ground and air with a foul, sharp odor.

I turned to the hunters who have saved us. They were young lads and lasses, still new to this fighting. It took more than a bit of courage to run to where the battle is thickest and the daemons most dangerous. I raised my palm to them in thanks, an old Ithilian tradition; they returned the favor.

Thirty beasts lay dead at our feet, with more lying in the narrow path of forest from which we fled. I saw the hunters, the vigor gone from them, leaving only the weariness which comes when the fighting is done. They moved about, killing any beasts not slain within the melee.

My eyes then went to one daemon, an arrow within its leg, trying to crawl away. I placed my boot against its calf, trapping it beneath my hold. The more it moved, the harder I pressed down. It had the look of a cornered animal, a beast that knows its death is near. I looked it in the eye and poised the blade above its stomach, then bent down. The hard skin gave way to the touch of metal, and I pushed on until I could hear the sound of bone snapping. The beast’s body crumpled into itself, breath leaving its mouth with a strangled sound. When I looked back up I saw hunters staring at me, saying nothing.

“What are you looking at?” I said. “Go help the others; take as many wounded back as you are able.”

They followed my command, supporting friends and fighters on their shoulders, those who were gravely injured carried by two hunters at a time. I went first to Ildris, who stood speaking quietly with her brother. An injured hunter leaned against her frame.

“Is it serious?” I asked, looking at the lass, her eyes listless.

She shook her head. “A bad gash, but nothing I cannot mend.”

“Are there enough herbs for the wounded?”

Ildris sighed. “There will have to be.”

“My sister always finds a way, does she not?” Baedren said, smiling at her. She returned his smile with her own, though I could see the weariness within her gaze.

I turned to Baedren, who was carrying four hunters upon him, two balanced on each of his broad shoulders. He stood as strong as an oak, axe tucked into the belt at his side. Blood stained him as well, though most belonged to slain daemons and wounded hunters. I could see a small cut upon his arm, though it looked deep enough to be of some concern.

“You need that wound bandaged before it turns to fever.”

He looked down. “A small scratch, nothing more. Sorn Hurins are not felled so easily.”

Ildris smiled more broadly. “I’ll see to it, even if I need to hold him down to do so.”

Bhaedren nodded and walked forward, Ildris following his lead. She went slowly so as not to open the gash on the lass’s head. Even with the four hunters he bore, Baedren watched his sister’s burden, making sure she did not falter. Hunters followed behind them, making their way through the fallen bodies and ferns. I watched as their figures grow smaller, going into the light of day before they disappeared entirely.

Above me I heard the sound of leaves rustling, and saw a figure climbing down a trunk with the swiftness of a cat. Ellod landed a few feet from me, a wide grin upon his face. I could see his bow cradled in the crook of his palm, as familiar as the hand that held it. His quiver was nearly emptied of arrows, and he was triumphant.

“Hello, My Lady,” he said. “I see you have survived yet another day of fighting.”

“You know I hate when you call me that.” I replied, though I felt a smile tugging at my own lips, threatening to expose itself entirely. Instead I removed a cloth concealed within my glove, running it along the flat of my sword. I watched as it stained the cloth like ink, the metal gleaming as if it had never been struck. From the corner of my eye, I saw Ellod’s brow raise.

“As much as you hated that one there.” Ellod replied, gesturing towards the daemon I had killed. It lay among the bodies of our own fallen soldiers, body twisted and yellowed eyes open as if surprised at its own death.

“It would have died all the same, by my hand or that of another. I gave it a quick death.”

“Seemed a bit drawn out to me.”

I looked at him then. “Just what do you mean by that?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Better to spare your hand than to be the butcher.”

“And do you remember, Ellod, how those beasts killed our people, tearing them apart without a single thought? Where was their mercy then?”

“Brae-”

“They are monsters, Ellod, and they deserve to die as such. You of all people should know that.”

I regretted the words as soon as I spoke them, for I saw hurt written across his face. I went up to Ellod and placed my hand upon his shoulder, trying to make his eyes meet with mine.

“I am sorry, my friend.” I said. “It was wrong of me to say; of course you understand.”

“You know that I do.” he murmured, just loud enough for me to hear.

I stood up straight and placed my sword within its sheath. “Then it is high time we return home.”

I waited until I saw his dark pupils rise, the solemn look fading for one more playful. He gave out his arm like a nobleman for me to hold upon.

“As you command, My Lady.”

He laughed, and I responded by seizing him by the shoulders; Ellod laughed again, but allowed me to steer him forward. We walked along the path to where the entrance stands, framed by two large yaleth trees. They had stood there so long each branch was intertwined, and it was impossible to tell where one tree began and the other ended. It was there I released my grip on Ellod and went beside him.

I had made the journey a thousand times, and yet I needed to hold my breath in that place before we could continue on. My hand searched for Ellod’s own, taking it in a grip tight enough to crack bone. Each time I did this, and each time he needed to glance at me, giving a nod for us to pass through. With his assurance, I stepped forward.

The sun hung high upon the sky, the clouds moving West towards the highest reaches of the trees, casting a thick fog where they went. The forest itself was great in size, sloping sharply down from the trees to a grassy field with stalks that grew higher than a man’s waist. The river Innedeth flowed across the expanse, a thin stream fed by smaller waters as it twisted and turned to the Old Harbor, flowing into the Laughing Sea. In the very center of that valley was Ithilia, rising up from the ground in a wall of stone. It was not the opulent palaces of Parran in the South, nor the high castles of Caidon in the East, but each wall was built by the hands of our people over thirteen thousand years, and had stood strong ever since.

Beneath the sea of grass were well-worn paths the hunters had made for themselves, branching out towards the castle. Some twisted and turned, overlapping with one another among the high grass, ending at the foot of the gates. I walked behind Ellod, the grass parting for us to cross. Sun reached out from the midst, enough to make me stop and turn my head upwards to feel the warmth. It was more than welcome after the chill of the forest, an ill vapor that could not be shaken. Behind closed eyes, I imagined the spirit of Arna herself stretching her hands down to this land, letting this part of our earth feel her touch.

I did not realize how long I stood there until Ellod stopped himself, turning to look at me.

“Will you keep going, or will you just be standing there until the gates close?”

I did not answer; Ellod sighed, but he did not move, waiting for me to continue forward. Another minute passed, and I opened my eyes to him once more.

“The longer you stand there, the more I will starve to death.”

“I haven’t felt the sun in Spirits know how long, and all you can think about is your bloody stomach?”

“A spirit won’t fill my belly like a good bowl of stew.”

I walked forward, smirking back at him. “You should be so lucky.”

“Is that a threat?” Ellod said, trailing behind me.

“Would I threaten the best former thief of Ithilia?”

I could hear him bristle at those words.

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“It’s not thievery if you’re starving.”

“Or if the Lady of the Land pardons you.”

He scowled, and so we walked in silence. Baedren and Ildris were a few yards ahead of us, making slow progress with their troupe. I shortened my own strides and circled ‘round them before stopping. Ellod nearly tripped over an exposed stone, kept from falling only by Baedren reaching out his hand to stop him. He stumbled back, only with Baedren’s strong grip at his neck keeping him upright.

“There you are,” Bhaedren said. “I thought we’d left you behind.”

“Not far enough.” I answered, as Ellod pulled himself away.

“You nearly strangled me.” he said, rubbing his throat with his hand.

Bhaedren looked up to the bodies upon his frame. “I’d have done it too, boy, if you had run me and these fine hunters over.”

Ellod scoffed. “The day I run you over is the day I'm stronger than Baedren Sorn Hurin.”

At this, Baedren raised himself to his full height, chest broad like a prize bull.

“Not a day soon coming, I reckon; now go off before I decide to strangle you again.”

Ellod drew himself up as well, though his own stature paled in comparison.

They stared at each other for a moment, neither one moving, faces impassive. It was hard to tell when one’s facade broke and the two began laughing. Baedren’s laugh was a deep rumble within his chest, not unlike thunder or the moving of great stones. Ellod tossed his head back, the light catching the outline of his face.

When their laughter faded, Baedren went forward and placed his hand upon Ellod’s shoulder.

“I am glad to see you here, my friend.” He said, smiling.

“As I am I, friend.”

Ellod’s eyes glanced at the bodies he held above him.

“You need help with those?”

Baedren crouched down and allowed Ellod to take one lad and place him on his back. Ellod fixed the lad’s arms across his shoulders, hoisting him up carefully to not disturb his wounds. With the wounded in hand, the two began to walk forward.

“I see no scratches on you; must be from hiding up in those trees.” Baedren said.

“Still keeping demons off your back?”

Baedren laughed once more, then turned his head towards Ildris and me to beckon us forward; we went and walked beside them. lldris gave a stern look to her brother, but even I could see the smile hiding beneath it. The wounded lass on her shoulder still lived, but there was a gray pallor to her face and slackness in her jaw. The cut on her brow no longer bled, but looked vicious all the same.

“Let me take her.” I said.

She hesitated for a moment, even as her feet shifted to take the loss of weight upon him, then nodded. I moved to her right and took the lass’s arm upon my neck. We walked forward, taking care to tread lightly. I noticed that Ildris had tied a bandage beneath her ribs, and so I watched for any signs of her wounds reopening. Fifty paces behind us, the remaining hunters traveled towards us, more of a straggling lot than proud warriors.

Ahead was the hunter Dalron I had seen earlier, carrying a bundle made from an old cloak. In it were the weapons of the girl, still bloodied from fighting. His head was downcast, hair concealing his face from view. I turned away from his look to the lass still on my back.

“Will I die?” she asked, more a whisper than a question, as fear took hold over her features.

“No love,” Ildris answered, shifting her weight back towards her own body, lessening my hold over the lass. “I’ve seen enough wounds in my time, and yours are not the worst of ‘em.”

“Ildris is a skilled healer; you have nothing to fear.” I added, giving a small smile as reassurance.

“How many were killed on this day?” Ellod asked, turning his gaze to Yldris.

A deep grimace fell upon Ildris' face, one etched with worry.

“Thirty and five, by my last count.”

Ellod sighed. “We cannot keep losing so many good men and women to those beasts.”

“Which is why we must kill them before they have the chance.” I said.

“And how many more will it take for that?”

“As many as it takes to keep the daemons at bay.”

“One hundred? One thousand?”

“Would you rather us stand idly by while demons break ranks and go up to the gates themselves?”

I did not realize how strongly I was gripping the girl’s arm until she cried out. I released her at once. Ildris cradled her to keep her from falling down, sending a sharp look in my direction as she did.

“Are you alright, Helda?” Ildris said, eyes soft with worry.

“I believe so.” she said.

“I apologize, lass, for hurting you.” I said.

She looked at me. “At least you can show mercy.”

I kept looking at her, even as I felt shame blooming up from my neck to my face.

Helda tried to stand upright once more, but a wince of pain went through her, and she had to stop and catch her breath. Ildris and I stood by her side and waited until the lass took a tentative step forward, then another. The castle walls were not far from us, in spite of our slow progress. On each side of the wall were watchtowers, those inside waiting for our return. The sound of a bell echoed out, a single note for returning hunters. A second bell answered its call, and I could see the gates begin to open.

“Come on,” Ildris said, taking the lass on her own back and running forward. Baedren followed suit, with Ellod and I close behind. We crossed the narrow stretch of road that was left, and joined the ranks of hunters who began to move inside, making their way through the space just wide enough to pass in single file. Wounded in tow, we moved forward into the safety of our walls.

Inside the gates was a portcullis, wrought from both iron and stone. Above, a chain was pulled, which lifted the frame up and above our heads. It was a short path before the stone gave way to the open square. There our people were hammering steel into swords, sewing thick thread for leather jerkins and trousers, or practicing hand to hand combat near the archery targets. There, they were safe, as long as the walls held and their defenders returned home.

Several went forth to embrace those who have survived; many others simply looked upon us, searching for those that they let go into the fighting. I saw their faces when they realized there was no returning for them.

Dalron went to one man and woman, laying the makeshift sack at their feet. The woman tried to hold back a scream with her hand, falling to the ground as her husband stood beside her, grim and silent.

They were all but run over, however, by a familiar figure cutting through the crowd, her pale hair stained with soot and the grime of the kitchen. Small as she was, Mella had enough strength from lifting pots and wielding cleavers over cuts of meat to part a crowd.

“Out of my way, out of my way!” she said, giving a particularly foul look to two men who unwittingly blocked her path, both of them parting to let her pass. She went forward to where Baedren and Ildris stood.

“Ya both been here for a good time now, while I’ve been slaving away in that kitchen waitin’ for my children to return, and neither of ya think to go in and see your own mother?”

“It is my fault, Mella.” I said, going to her side. “I asked them and the others to carry the wounded back, and it took longer than we had expected.”

“Ya only thought it best to keep me from seein’ my kin?”

"Mella, I–"

“Mother,” Baedren said. “I’m glad to see ya.”

With a single movement, he lifted his mother up by her stout frame and embraced her tightly. Ildris did the same, her arms nearly spanning the width of her brother’s broad back. Mella’s arms clamped onto her son’s shoulders tightly as she laughed, her ruddy cheeks turning a brighter shade of red. At my side, I could see Ellod’s head bent as his shoulders shook with laughter.

“I'm glad to see ya back,” she said, as Baedren lowered Mella to the ground, a smile upon her face. “Now let’s get you and the rest of these brigands fed.

Start filling bowls with stew, don’t dawdle there all day!”

She directed those last words to a young lass, who began to ladle from the iron pot; the hunters formed a small crowd, waiting for their midday meal. The young lads and lasses still training to fight stood behind them, expectant. I walked forward, going past the crowd to where the girl stood. She looked at me as I took the ladle from her hand and called the children to the front.

“Ay,” a young lad cried; I recognized him as Lonell, a scowl set on his face, creasing his brow.

“What is it?” I said.

“We’ve been hunting daemons all bloody morning, and you want to place those brats in front of us?”

A few hunters beside him voiced their disapproval; the lads and lasses began to shrink back, afraid. I took a bowl of stew, only half-filled, and went to where he stood. He was a stocky man with straw blond locks and jaw set into a sharp line. I met his gaze, and did not break it.

“Do you think yourself above the rest of us, Udros?”

He smirked. “I only think of myself as an equal, My Lady.”

I was about to speak before Ildris walked to him.

“If that’s so, you’ll have no problem giving this to the lad over there who’s been practicing his sword fighting, or the lass who helps the younger ones practice their archery.”

I placed the bowl in his hands. Udros scowled harder and walked away, muttering to himself. I motioned the children forward, and they went up quickly to the front, holding out their bowls as I and the maid ladled stew into their bowls. It was a mix of carrots, parsnips, and turnips, thick and seasoned with spices. I handed off the best bits into the children’s bowls. They gave quick nods in thanks before scurrying off. I filled the bowls of over a dozen hunters, not pausing until I saw a familiar figure step forward, a bowl in one hand and linen cloth in the other.

“All the rest for me, please.” Ellod said.

“You take any more than your share and I’ll cut it out from your belly.”

He smiled. “Is that a threat, My Lady?”

“A promise.”

I filled his bowl to the brim, and then tried to hand it back to him; Ellod stopped me with his hand.

“This is for you; now come sit with the rest of us and eat.”

“There are people waiting here, Ellod.”

“Yes-now come.”

“Go on,” Mella said, waving her hand. “The lass and I have it here.”

Before I could protest, Ellod placed his hand on the small of my back and pushed me forward, walking us both to the high archway of the Main Hall. Inside the archway was a great wooden door, carved into the shapes of trees and the high mountains of the Ridge. Ellod, Baedren, Ildris and I sat against the wooden door and began to talk.

“Here,” Ellod said, handing me the linen cloth. I unwrapped it to find a fresh piece of bread within it.

“Where did you find this?” I said.

He shrugged. “I might have convinced a certain cook to use a bit of her saved flour.”

I scoffed. “You are a bloody fool, Ellod.”

I took the bread and broke it into four pieces, giving one piece to Ellod, then Baedren, then Ildris, keeping the last one for myself. It was rich and sweet with seeds and

“The young ones are still too young to be sent out.” Ildris said.

“They can be sent to the outer edge; let them practice killing. ” Baedren replied. He took a large mouthful of his mother’s soup before his face twisted in disgust. He turned his head to spit a lump of turnip onto the ground.

Ildris laughed. “Too much for you, brother?”

Baedren scowled. “I don’t like turnips.”

“You shouldn’t waste food, then.” I said. “There’s little enough of it as it is.”

“Ay!”

Baedren seized Ellod’s hand, poised to steal the bowl out from under him. He wrenched Ellod’s arm behind his back until he cried out in pain.

“You little thief- you almost had me there.”

“Let him go, Baedren.” I said.

He looked at me, indignant as a child. “He started it!”

“Now.”

He released Ellod, who fell back against the door, rubbing his arm while giving Baedren venomous glares. I ignored them both in favor of our conversation.

“We can send the oldest of the lads and lasses, but the youngest ones will need at least a fortnight to keep training.”

“Even longer than that; some are still struggling with their swordwork,” Ildris says. “I’ll go patch up their wounds for them now.”

She stood and went towards those lads and lasses, mottled with bruises and cuts inflicted by their brethren or themselves in their own clumsiness. I looked at these children, elbows and knees aplenty, their faces still carrying the traces of childhood upon them. I looked at them and knew that half would not survive in the forest.

“You know we cannot send them out there.”

I look back to Ellod, his features knotted with worry.

“Brae, they are too young to fight.”

“You and I were not much older when they put swords and bows in our hands.”

He smiled. “Aye, we were then, but we had no choice.”

“And they do?”

He meant to speak, but stared along with me as a familiar figure walked into the courtyard, accompanied by two guards. Lord Lionel walked slowly, draped in a thick cloak which hung heavy upon his slight frame. The guards cleared a path for him to stand as he looked out towards his people before speaking.

“I thank you, my people, for your continued efforts to defend our land and home.”

He paused for a moment, looking down at the ground. I had not seen my father this clear-headed in months, what with the drink that clouded his mind.

“But we will not be alone in this fight for long. I have had recent talks with Lord Othalom in the Eastern city of Caidon, and call him for aid in our fight. When he has the soldiers, then they will cross the Laughing Sea to the shores of the Old Harbor, riding to us within two days. The Caidonian soldiers will stand side by side with you, my brave soldiers; with them, we will be victorious.”

A hush went over everyone present, so quiet the only sound was the wind as it passed through. I supposed he expected cheers and cries of gladness, but all he received is the silence and suspicion of his people. With that said, he and his guards walked back towards the Ithilden, our stronghold. They were nearly at the door when I circled ‘round them, blocking their path.

“When were you going to tell me this, father?”

He tried to move past me; I placed my hand on his shoulder.

His eyes met mine. “I knew you would have objected to it.”

“What? To strangers coming to our land, with no thought of what lurks beyond these walls?”

He winced at those words as if I had struck him. I removed my hand.

He and his guards walked past me, going to the entrance of the Main Hall and disappearing with a sharp clang of the door. I was left standing there, knowing that in a moment I would have to turn ‘round and tell my people the truth, though even I was not sure of it.

When I did, I was met with more questions than I can answer.

“Caidonians?” someone said.. “Coming this far to the West?”

“What business do the men of the East have here?”

“They have never fought against demons; what chance do they have against them?”

“Piss on those arrogant bastards; our Lord is a fool.”

“Our Lord-” I said, turning to face them. “has said his piece; Ellod, Baedren, Ildris and I will ride out and greet them when they come.”

“You would let them march into these gates yourself?” Venya, leader of the first region, said to me.

I turned to her. “I will do so, if it means the survival of you and my people.”

She frowned. “Then I hope one of you knows what you’re doing, or you will be a bigger fool than he is.”

“Would you turn away help for us, Venya?”

“I would turn away those who do not want to be led to slaughter.”

Those words are enough to silence my own. The rest of the hunters went off, pretending to be absorbed in their small affairs while their voices whispered. Ellod walked to me, Baedren and Ildris following close behind him.

“Did you know of this?”

I shook my head.

“Do you think they can help us?”

“The Caidonians are renowned fighters, perhaps the best in the world. Their numbers alone will be enough to give us the advantage we need.”

Ellod leaned in closer. “Truth, now.”

I sighed. “I do not know them, though I know our numbers dwindle each day, and we need more able-bodies to fight.”

“A sword and spear are no good unless you can use it, and Caidonians are skilled with both. But fighting a human is far different than fighting a demon.” Yldris said.

Baedren nodded. “Aye; at least the demons have the courtesy not to use either.”

I laughed in spite of myself, Ellod and Ildris doing the same. She clapped her brother on the back, smiling.

“I see you still have your humor, Baedren.”

At the moment she spoke, there was a loud rumbling of thunder above our heads, followed by a downpour of rain, the wind moving it like a whip across the ground. I ran to the door of the Main Hall, lifting the heavy bolt so it could swing open. My people flooded in, shoving and moving past each other to find refuge from the storm. It was Ellod who found a wedge of space to push me inside.

Inside were the gray stone walls, small torches lit upon them to cast light upon the pillars, their surfaces worn smooth with the passing of time and ages. There was a large room inside, where once our leaders and those of other kingdoms met to discuss trade and politics over wine and a roaring fire. Now it was where my people gathered, sitting side by side as Bhaedren went off to look for wood and kindling.

“Haven’t seen a storm like that in a while,” Ellod said, his jerkin pebbled with drops, hair wet and loosed upon his scalp.

“You should take that off then, before you catch cold; I’ll have Mella fetch blankets.”

“A little cold won’t kill me,” He shrugged his arms out of his jerkin. “At least not before they do.”

I smacked his arm. “Don’t joke about that.”

“What, are you trying to kill me too?”

I looked at him, and in spite of myself I started laughing, softly at first and then louder, until Ellod joined me, our voices rising to the ceiling. I laughed until my eyes watered and teared, watching as Ellod’s face turned red, his body leaning into mine with the effort. My laughs grew stronger and so did his, so I could not tell where one ended and the other began. I could sense people watching us, wondering what had come over us that we could find all of this so humorous. When we finally stopped I had to throw my head back and sigh to catch my breath.

“Spirits be," I said. “I haven’t laughed like that in ages.”

“It’s good to do, what with that furrow between your brows.”

I was about to strike him again before Ildris interrupted us both.

“While you two are laughing, I am sorely wantin’ help with this lad who sprained his wrist during training.”

“Coming,” I said, rising from where I sat to where Ildris slowly made a splint for the boy. His eyes looked down as she did so, nose still red and sniffling from crying. She clucked and soothed him, tying off the bandage with as much care as possible. I crouched down so I was level with his gaze.

“What is your name?”

“Belros, m’Lady.”

“Well, Belros, show me how you fight.”

He looked down at his bandaged wrist, and then back at me.

“Your other hand works, does it not?”

“I don’t have my training sword, M’Lady. I had to leave it out in the rain.”

I looked back to Ellod. “One moment.”

I walked to where he sat, bent down and swiped his knife from its pouch.

“Ay!” he says. “What’s that for?”

“It’s for the boy there; I’ll give it back later.”

I walk back to Belros, Ellod’s knife in my hand.

“Take this,” I said, handing it to him.

“My training sword is bigger than this.” Belros said, frowning.

“The beasts out there don’t care how big a sword is, because they have the claws to match. Now make sure your stance is correct, or you’ll be knocked down before you can fight back.”

I waited for him to align himself, then held the dagger out in front of me like a claw. I feigned a strike, and Belros drew back, surprised. When I struck out in earnest, he just managed to block my own weapon, steel dragging against steel.

“Good, but don't hesitate to strike me. We're taught to avoid daemons when they move against us, but you need to learn to protect yourself as well. Again.”

He moved to my right, trying to strike my arm. I curved my blade towards his shoulder; Belros moved out of its path and ducked, his own blade swiping across to catch the seam of my trousers, cutting through the cloth to my skin. I cried out, and Belros dropped the knife. Within a moment he was bowed down onto the ground, offering his hands up in supplication.

“I-I apologize, M’Lady, I didn’t-”

“You,” I said, interrupting his speech. “are a quick learner."

He lifted his head. “You are not mad, M’ Lady?”

I reached my hand out to him and Belros took it, setting himself upright.

“If I had been twice as swift at your age, I would have killed more daemons sooner.”

He smiled and handed the blade back to me, turning his palm out to me and then drawing it back to his breast, an Ithilian farewell.

I waved him off. “Go back! Tell the other children how you bested their Lady of Ithilia.”

Belros did so, and once he left I could finally feel the stinging pain of his cut on my skin.

Ellod went to me. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. A single nick won’t kill me.”

“At least let me look at it.”

He peeled back the torn cloth of my trousers and inspected the wound. The blood had already stopped flowing, though the stinging persisted. Ellod whistled in approval.

“A clean strike. The boy was smart enough to duck and cut.”

“Perhaps he will last longer than the rest.” I replied.

“If the Caidonians come here, he might not have to.”

I sat back down beside Ellod.

“And how do you know that they will show up on our doorstep?”

He raised a brow. “I’ve never known our Lord to be a liar.”

“My father did not bother to tell me of his grand plan before,” I said. “or why the Caidonians would act with such generosity towards him and our people.”

It was then that the leaders of the first and second region came forth, stopping to sit in a half circle ‘round us. Venya met my eyes first before she spoke.

“So you did not know of his plan?”

I shook my head. “If my father had wanted me to know, he would have done so before instead of announcing it to his people with no warning.”

“I don’t trust the men of the East,” Udros said, the leader for the second region. “and I trust those who trust them less.”

Ellod scoffed. “Then you would shut the gates on them before they offer help? Perhaps it's better that you don’t make the decisions.”

Udros seized the hilt of his sword.

“Are you mocking me, boy?”

Ellod stared back at him, unflinching.

“I am merely calling a fool a fool, Udros Fallson.”

He moved to strike; instead, Venya held him back.

“Enough, both of you!” she said “Do you wish a mutiny upon us all?”

Udros went back, a dour look upon his face. I kept a hand near my sword lest he tried to act out once more.

“We need more good men and women, not children with swords thrust into their hands before they can wield them. Soldiers of the East are the best gold can buy, and they are giving us their swords for free.” Ellod says.

“We don’t know what their price is yet.” Venya answered.

“What do you think, m’Lady?” Udros asked. As he did he smirked at Ellod, wanting to bring me to his side.

I looked at him and Venya. “If I had the choice, I would send them back on their ships across the Onseris Sea to Caidon. Since none of us have that choice, we must let them in. I do not want to bring them here to die, but I do not want to see my people die as well.”

While Udros was silent, I looked back to Venya.

“And will you be able to face the consequences when they do?”

“Yes.” I said.

“Well then,” she said. “Should we wait for them to come here, or should we ride out to greet them?”

“We don’t have the horses, so we will wait.”

“And how do we know they won’t bring demons with them as well?” Udros says.

“We do not; but we will be prepared if it happens.”

I watched Ellod’s hand go to his bow, and I knew that he would go to the watchtower to fire arrows upon the demons before they could step a single foot inside our walls. Venya raised her brows, and Udros muttered beneath his breath.

“It is decided then,” she said, rising from her seat. Udros rose as well, meaning to give a final word to Ellod, but Venya pulled him away before she could.

When they were out of earshot, I turned to Ellod.

“Did you need to say that to Udros?”

He let out a snort.

“I’ve met goats smarter than Udros Fallson.”

“Calling him a fool didn’t do you any favors.” I said.

“Turning away those who can help you is being a fool.”

“Sending men and women who do not know this land into the forest is sending them to the slaughter.”

“Not with Ithilians at their side.”

I smiled. “So you do have faith in our people?”

“I never said I didn’t.”

“You made that perfectly clear to Udros.”

“I do not follow Udros into battle, I follow you.”

I leaned my head back. “And what if I have made a mistake, one that will lead us all to our deaths?”

“I will still follow you, from the arms of the Grey One herself to the Gate of Next Life.”

“You do not mean that.” I said.

“I do.”

I was about to speak again when the door was flung open; Baedren stepped in with a cord of wood for the fire. Mella and her maids follow close behind him, carrying a heavy pot of stew.

“Make way,” he said, the pile the width of a small barrel held in his arms. Baedren moved towards the empty hearth, dropping the logs at his feet with a dull thud. Ellod and another lad went to help him stack each log upon the other. When that was done, Ellod reached into a pouch at his side and produced two pieces of flint. I saw a brief flash of light, of sparks scattering across wood and stone. When the first orange tongues of flame emerged, hunters went towards it, sitting close in order to feel its warmth.

“Come on,” Mella said. “Ya either get it or it goes to another’s bowl.”

Bowls of stew were filled and passed across the room; I tasted a few pieces of dried meat, a rare treat in those times. Ellod drank his in greedily, tipping the bowl so no drop was left wasted. I had to stop myself from consuming it too fast, suddenly filled with the same hunger as he possessed. When Ellod was done, he released a loud belch for all present to hear. He chuckled, and I gave him a harsh look.

As the hours passed, the rain slowed to a faint mist. Baedren added another log, and sparks flew, reaching up into the heavens before disappearing entirely. For some the dark was foreboding, as they couldn't see what lurked beneath its hold. I knew that even with the light of day, those which have stayed hidden would make itself known.

Soon, people readied themselves for sleep, curling upon the stone floor. Ellod leaned his head against the wall, his dagger strapped close to his side lest he need to use it. I looked upon the sky, and watched as the clouds slowly moved across the expanse. Ila the Moon showed only half her face on this night, and so I sent a silent prayer of thanks towards her. I prayed, as I always did, that she would keep my people safe, and not let the evil at our door end us. I did not know if she was listening, but I still put my hand upon my heart to receive her answer.

The light was gentle upon the stone walls, bathing the space it touched in a silver light. I looked upon it until the clouds passed over it once more, and the fire of the torches waned to a faint glimmer. Ellod kept vigil with me until even weariness cast a shadow upon his face, and he had to find his own space beside me to lie upon. I was asleep before the fires burnt out.