It was sheer lunacy. Even I had to agree with Timoth and Alum’s words, though I didn’t give them satisfaction of knowing as much.

Why was I doing it? I couldn’t put a finger on the exact reason, and that concerned me in light of Alum’s words. You are careless almost to the point of negligence, his words echoed in my mind.

I didn’t let that stop me. Wargwa knelt before me, and I took a deep breath and cast Alum out of my mind. With a single step upon the Torak’s bent knee, I propelled myself onto his torso and then clambered onto his forward-hunched neck.

I rode the Torak.

A saddle was fashioned to Wargwa’s armour that I might ride more comfortably and safely, and I now thought to have handholds welded into its back armour to enable me to more easily ascend and descend Wargwa. This would have to be done with great care to avoid paining the beast and triggering a berserk reaction, but I would be able to mount him with more dignity once it was done.

I spread my legs on either side of its long neck and settled into the saddle. From this position, the parasol was easily accessible directly behind me, though my verbal commands had reached the point of absolute reliability.

I commanded the Torak to walk and was nearly thrown off the beast. I felt like a child being taught to ride a pony all over again - if the pony weighed half a tonne and had only two legs, causing it to jerk from side to side with each step. I quickly became used to the jolting gait, though it would take much practice before it became comfortable, if it ever did. Perhaps I could train the Torak to walk with a more even gait. The additional height was also nauseating, and I was only too aware that a fall from atop Wargwa would likely result in serious injury.

Despite these complications, I found that my initial fears weren’t justified, nor those of Timoth and Alum. The Torak was a gentler beast than any Halivaaran carnivore, even than any man I’d ever known. It did not seem to have a violent instinct unless threatened by fire or iron. In fact, so unfazed was Wargwa by my presence atop him that I felt certain that the Vizonians must already have trained him to be ridden.

I rode him for only a few minutes that day, but returned the next determined to attempt a longer ride. The handholds I’d requested had been cinstalled, but as I went to command Wargwa to kneel, a messenger arrived at the enclosure seeking word with me. He’d come from Hollowhold with grave news: Highfather Ioran had attempted a coup d’état against King Milos.

Even after my visit to Vizonia I was shocked to hear it. Had my appearance in Vizonia forced his hand? In any case, I’d expected Milos and Ioran to act in concert. The division between these two great powers would at least limit the pressure being applied to Ebonreach.

I was also grateful that the attempt had failed, of course, for not only was Ioran now known to be an unholy schemer, but it also preserved my position as the sister-in-law of the King. The rest of the messenger’s words bore small comfort, however. All Vizonians had been expelled from Hollowhold in a bloody massacre which still continued in the Mountain Duchy. A civil war had erupted in the other duchies where the House of Goldmane’s sway was less direct, including neighbouring Trent, which already suffered from Entregwa’s pretender rebellion.

I would have to expect a request for support from King Milos in the near future, and that meant that I had to bring forward my plans for an alliance with the faeries. Ebonreach would need every bit of protection it could muster in these dark times. The Kingdom of Halivaara lay besieged on all sides. I did not know that we could afford to send our soldiers away with enemies on our doorstep, even if we achieved the support of the faeries, though I was bound to do so. We still knew nothing of the manpower or reliability of the forest folk.

There was no further time to waste. We had the Ashwood Blade in hand, and waiting would only risk being made a passenger to events. Therefore, with the Kingdom in ruins and the Vizonian betrayal publicly revealed at last, and after a brief discussion with Alum and Timoth, I organised an expedition into the Dreadwood Forest. Alum and I did not speak further of our discord, and I assumed that he was still contemplating my words.

I didn’t invite Tadruk but he asked to come nevertheless, requesting only coin for his support. I offered him the position of a permanent retainer or a man-at-arms, but he preferred a succession of temporary contracts and I wanted to keep him around so I acquiesced. He was my only means of reaching Vizonia, after all, and one day it might become possible and necessary to launch an attack directly on the Vizonian heartland.

Urzo’s presence was also required in spite of his reluctance. He possessed by far the greatest wealth of faerie knowledge, and I suspected that he was descended in part from faeries who had fled the Dreadwood Forest in the wake of a civil war. Our conversation was short as he knew better than to protest at length and was intelligent enough to understand his role.

Our party also travelled with two dozen soldiers. With regret, I left Lilac behind to ride atop Wargwa, a decision which made many uncomfortable. Too bad, I thought of those who shied away from Wargwa as we took our first steps through the woodland paths. It was better for them to become accustomed to Wargwa now so that he wouldn’t disturb them in future. I deliberately called men to my side in succession so that they would learn to overcome their fear of approaching Wargwa. I also knew that there were worse things than faeries in the Dreadwood Forest, and I hoped that Wargwa might scare some of these away.

Timoth had given me the Ashwood Blade, which I hitched to my belt in a makeshift leather scabbard. It was too short to be much of an encumbrance, even while mounted, and I wanted it on hand in case of a faerie ambush. It was about all I carried as Wargwa bore no saddlebags, forcing Timoth and Alum’s steeds to pick up the slack with the burden of my possessions.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

I hoped that the journey would not be a long one. We sought not to traverse the Dreadwood Forest, merely to penetrate it sufficiently to contact the faeries and request an audience with their king. Therefore, we travelled for half the day and made camp while the sun was still high in the sky. I made the decision to assemble our tents even though it meant that we would be staying overnight. I felt that the faeries would neither require us to travel further through the Forest nor wait more than a single night if they were interested in meeting with us. Of course, I issued stern instruction that only dead wood should be burned.

To this end, I sent Urzo into the forest with our offer of parley. I suggested that he take some of the soldiers with him, but he replied that they would offer no protection if the faeries decided to attack him. He departed alone, simply disappearing into the treeline.

I tied Wargwa loosely to a tree, praying that he wouldn’t chafe it badly enough to attract the faeries’ ire, and after Alum had assembled it, I retreated into our tent. I brought with me no paperwork, wanting to travel light, and enjoyed a rare freedom from the burden of my station. Alum sealed the tent and we chatted idly, never delving beyond the surface, both remembering our recent argument, content to make small talk. Night fell but we were too tired and sore from riding to couple that night. I also felt far too nauseated from riding with my head twelve feet above uneven ground all day, though I’d hoped I would have become accustomed to it by now. We simply passed into sleep, safe with the knowledge that Timoth had no doubt set a secure perimeter of sentries.

I was awoken before the sun rose by a soldier’s gentle hand on my shoulder, which then moved to Alum’s.

‘Sorry to disturb you, my lady, my lord, but the Baron’s returned,’ he said, referring to Urzo.

Shaking off a fatigue which bespoke only a few hours of sleep, I said, ‘Take me to him.’

I threw a formal dress on and led Alum to the edge of the camp. Along the way, the soldier disappeared into other tents to rouse the rest of our party, and it was immediately obvious why: a dozen green-skinned faeries stood patiently at the treeline alongside Urzo, their wings shimmering impatiently in the firelight. Most were barely clothed and carried bone spears, but a couple wore leafy cloaks draped with thick vines and bore no visible weapons. One of these also wore a bramble crown and an empty scabbard at his waist.

The faerie king.

I quickly cautioned my men-at-arms to stand at ease and be careful with their torches. I noticed Timoth’s absence and summoned a soldier to find him.

‘My lady, we have already tried, but he is nowhere to be found.’

‘What do you mean? Is he not in his tent?’ I asked.

The soldier shook his head. ‘Nor anywhere else. We… assumed that you had sent him on a mission of some sort, like Baron Urzo.”

A feeling of panic set in, stilled partly when Alum put his arm around me.

‘Timoth can take care of himself. You need to focus on the faerie king,’ he advised me, and I shook myself to restore my focus. Major negotiations were about to take place with an alien kingdom I knew nothing about. I had to be ready.

I forced Timoth’s disappearance to the back of my mind. What sort of words did one say to faeries? Would they understand me? Did they even have a language? Of course, some part of me knew that Urzo would have warned me if I’d needed any special information, but it was a nerve-wracking experience. Their true alienness was indisputable at this short distance in the open.

‘Greetings, great king of the faeries,’ I began, deciding to try a friendly, formal introduction. ‘I am Countess Princess Saemara Tfaeller of Ebonreach.’

‘Countess Saemara,’ the faerie king replied, his mouth clicking awkwardly over what I presumed was an unfamiliar tongue, maybe even one ill-suited for his kind’s mouth shape. ‘You are known to us. For what reason do you pierce the veil of isolation that lies between our kin?’

I swallowed and continued. ‘Events in the Kingdom of Halivaara - within which the faerie homeland lies - force us to action. A vast web of conspiracy culminating in civil war threatens to overthrow generations of stability. Our shared County of Ebonreach has been under siege for years, and things grow ever more dire.’

‘You speak of human concerns. Our kind remembers a time when the human lands east of this forest were counted among those belonging to Ebonreach rather than Trent, and though we were aware of the change, we did not act to prevent it. That is not our way. Many a human war has been waged outside these trees, and we do not interfere.’

The faerie king spoke impassively, and his unfamiliar face made it difficult to guess his emotions. I knew that they hadn’t been isolated for centuries for no reason, and that it wouldn’t be easy, but I still didn’t know exactly how reluctant the faeries were to join us. Were they just negotiating for a favourable settlement, or was an alliance completely out of the question?

‘The Trent border of which you speak lies perilously close to your forest, and is currently embroiled in a catastrophic conflict between the incumbent House Crower, Tokuan guerrillas fighters, a pretender called Entregwa, and the unholy Vizonian order based in another world entirely. Some of these conflicts have already spilled over into Ebonreach, and our soldiers are occupied defending the Haelling river from further Tokuan raids. I ask that faerie forces join those of Ebonreach in securing our eastern border.’

The faerie king reacted not at all to my proposal, either because Urzo had already suggested it to him, or because it was simply his nature not to display emotions easily. His two cloaked advisors whispered to each other, and then one of them whispered to the king.

As I awaited the results of their discussion, I looked around and counted our full complement of soldiers - minus Timoth - assembled behind me, including Tadruk. I had no doubt that the woods were littered with dozens of faerie archers. Those visible before me were probably some type of royal guard, though I could discern nothing that would indicate a superior rank.

The king finally spoke. ‘Though we are troubled by the chaos beyond the trees, we find no cause to participate in it. We respect you, Countess Saemara, but there is no reason that we would not be able to find accommodation with your successor, be they from Trent, Tokua, or Vizonia.’

I understood their words and did not let any sign of perturbation appear upon my countenance. Instead, I reached to my belt and drew the Ashwood Blade, holding it aloft in the air pointing towards the stars. The faeries other than the king all staggered backwards as though fearful of the artefact. Only the king held his ground, but he looked upon the blade with great reverence and a modicum of avarice. It was the first time I’d been able to read his expression.

‘I have retrieved the Ashwood Blade, and present it to you as a gift in the hope of forging an alliance between our peoples.’