She’d been avoiding Barry. The bed had felt empty without him.
But her mother had a point: Embla was too earnest at times.
And though she knew she could keep from telling him anything, she also knew he would be able to detect something was amiss. For all his ignorance, Barry had shown an unnerving ability to know exactly what to say to calm her down and lower her defenses.
And right now, Embla was preparing herself for war.
They were preparing to attack the humans that had come from Barry’s world and their escort. Knights, well prepared and equipped. There could even be a royal knight amongst their numbers. It was a bad situation, but one they could not afford to ignore.
And yet Embla felt they were making a grave mistake.
Her gaze coursed over the maidens that were to fight with her. Their gear was made out of salvaged leather from the boars and deer they hunted. Useful to avoid small scratches, but useless against a maiden’s true powers. Their weapons were ones stolen over the years from the corpses found in the forest or roads. Some they had made themselves, most they had not.
Most worrying was that the maidens under her control were descendants of those who’d run from the kingdom’s clutches. They’d grown in the wilds, they’d fought ferals and learned to sneak and avoid trouble. They were no knights, raised in training for combat against fully conscious and capable maidens.
They could do it, but there were limits.
The attack on the city to rescue Barry had been viable because it hinged entirely on her shoulders. But an attack against a coordinated knight force would need far more than that. More so when their goal was to wipe them out and take the humans with them. Failing that, killing the humans.
That was the other part that bothered Embla.
In the privacy of the storeroom, her fingers brushed against her throat.
Were these people humans like the others in the kingdom, she would not hesitate at the thought. Her skin still burned at the memories she’d sought to forget.
Most of these humans, however, were like Barry. They came from a world where freedom was considered an unquestionable aspect of life. A world that had gone to war to free others from the chains of slavery and they had won.
Donning her armor, Embla moved through the words her mother had spoken. The horrors that might loom on the horizon if these humans were to make it to the heart of the kingdom where they would be untouchable. By no fault of their own, they would become tools of conquest and subjugation. Tools that would see free maidens everywhere chained and turned against one another.
But was such a fate as certain as Lady Dragma had made it out to be?
Would Embla be able to kill Barry were he about to fall into the hands of the enemy? Even if doing so meant safety to the Court and other free maidens out there?
The thought made her scowl, were these thoughts brought about thanks to the bond?
She heaved a heavy breath and put on her helmet. The new battle-ax lay next to the door. A wicked edge that had been enchanted to make healing harder. Still, it was crude, far too crude. A piece of elder-wood with metal that had been hastily melted into the shape of a fang that had lost its point. The magic within it was weak, barely a paltry trick that would only be useful if the fighting took long.
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If the fighting took long, they’d be doomed.
The heft of the weapon forced her to adjust her balance, Embla looked at it with an edge of disdain. The thing was barely passable as an improvised weapon. It would serve its purpose, but she doubted it would survive long enough to see a second battle.
Perhaps they could gather the gear from the knights? Lala could likely find a way around the protections. But would she be able to do so before the kingdom could use those very enchantments to track them down?
Questions upon questions, risks and dangers, actions and consequences.
A part of her loathed this role, this duty, this responsibility. She longed for the days where her concerns only went as far as her ax’s reach. Of a time when she needed not concern herself with the future and the world was entirely reduced to the now. Of when she danced at the edge of her blade.
Those days were long gone.
Now she was a rebel.
An enemy of the kingdom.
Lifting the ax, Embla stepped outside. She was met by her maidens. Loyal to the last, they would follow her orders, she knew this without a doubt. But were the orders she was about to give the right ones? Was this truly the path forward? To freedom?
She wanted to touch her throat once more, but her armor was in the way.
And Barry was not here. He’d left that morning with Lady Dagmar and their own protection. They’d left in search of an answer to their problems. To awaken the elves of old.
Though Embla marched north through the forest, her mind was elsewhere. It was upon the books she’d once read. Of the first war of maidens. Of the maidens of old. The elves, and their power to turn forests and jungles into nightmares to any that trespassed. Of humans raining fire upon them and yet unable to stop the forest as it expanded, swallowing cities and leaving the world in a lush green landscape. She had met Elves and even a single High Elf, she’d known of their prowess with vegetation, even used it to help defend the Court. But none had seen an Elf Queen, and the books never specified.
How much of it was exaggeration? How much was the truth?
Half-way to the ambush point, she realized she’d been trying to distract herself from the task ahead, from the real questions she should be asking. Embla forced her considerations back to the humans, the people that were friends of Barry. Of everyone there, he had spoken ill of but one, the single human that shared blood with him.
Embla grimaced under her helmet. Mark, Barry’s cousin, had been the one they’d captured first, and the one that had run away. Another secret she’d never tell him. She clung to that thought, that feeling. It went against the bond but it had been exactly the right choice. As Lady Dagmar had taught her, she used that reasoning like a tool, to sift through her thoughts and separate what was fact, and what was illusion.
The humans posed a potential threat to the Court, in the long term. And they represented a potential asset in the short-term. Barry being bonded to everyone within the upper echelons of the Court was inconvenient at best, dangerous at worst. The more maidens bonded to him, the more weight his opinion would carry.
Just how many could he bond? Embla knew of nobles that had managed hundreds of maidens, Barry no doubt could-.
No.
Embla shook her head, focus.
They needed more humans able to make strong bonds, and they needed to bond them under their own terms. They were outsiders, Barry had shown they do not understand that idealism is nothing without the power to enforce and protect it. Their opinion should not hold sway in matters that pertain to the freedom of maidens.
So was this attack a good idea? Was this the proper course of action?
A slow nod was the only show of her inner thoughts. The attack followed their goals and objectives.
But was it pragmatic? Strategically sound? Did they have the power to do what had to be done? Or were the risks too great?
Embla’s mind focused on the present. They were approaching a stretch of road the knights would be passing through tomorrow. It was the best place for an ambush, they had good cover, and the road had poor visibility. And flyers would have a tough time due to the amount of foliage. They had brought every fighting abled maiden in the Court that hadn’t left with lady Dagmar and Barry to the grove.
The maidens were working to remove their scents and presence, to hide and obscure and make the ambush that much harder to notice. They outnumbered the knights three to one, and they had the element of surprise. Even Kajou was here, merely because she was another pair of hands with a blade and they would need every single one if they wished to succeed.
But was it enough?
Did they have the power to see through the consequences?