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 Chapter 4.

Of Worries and War.

Lady Reco stared around at the small gathering of Seskan women who stood mingled amongst their Ravar kin. All were clad in dark cloaks, simple riding breeches and tunics.

She smiled slightly to herself, so this was the face of hope.

Almost full moons cycle ago, Lady Lellremi had returned from the Havens and informed them of what had taken place; the name they would carry to war, and the Dragons wishes to be the Slenia Kavar protectors.

More news had come that day, only the second news that had been delivered came from High Lord Melanlell. In order to find a solution to the growing problem of the dwindling forces, the Four Clans were to merge together as one, to create a larger force which could strike faster and harder at the enemy. The Clans were to move deeper into the Linshlaine Forest, using the already established Ravar and Seskan territories as the base for the expansion that would enable the living space for the Frena and Zanlin. This union between the clans meant, the Slenia Kavar was able to gather their warriors with greater ease for the training that took place under the cover of darkness in the home of the dragons, The Roonil Ismia.

From the branches of the surrounding trees, several shadows moved swiftly to the meeting place, led by Ladies Lellremi and Genalenstar. The small group numbering no more than sixty moved quietly into the trees becoming little more than shadows themselves. The majority of the Slenia ranks had been made up by the Frena women who were teaching them, bringing the total number of the force to almost three hundred. The Slenia force was relatively small and would do little to dent the armies of their enemy. However, with the aid of the dragons, they would be a force to reckon with.

The enemy were savage creatures with large, red eyes and faces that reminded those who had seen them of snakes. They had large fangs protruding from their bottom lips and elongated claws on their hands, used as deadly weapons to slash and tear their enemy to ribbons. Those who survived the reptilian enemy to fight another day gave their descriptions to the Clan Scholars who searched through the Royal Library and various records for any evidence of this enemy. They found that the enemy was an ancient foe to their people, known as the Arr'acks.

Over the weeks since their training had begun, the women of the Clans had found their strengths and weaknesses. Those who had the natural ability of healing, archery and swordsmanship. Not only had the women discovered what they could and could not do, they also discovered that it was not only in the women of the Frena that they had an ally, but in the men aswell. The men of the Frena welcomed any who could and would fight, man or woman. They had won many wars under the rule of Lady Lellremi and knew her judgement was sound. If their Lady believed that training the woman of the Clans in the Art of War was necessary, then so did they.

            The enemy grew stronger as the days swiftly passed into weeks then months. The number of injured and dead increased steadily with each passing day, along with the Slenia Kavar’s need to fight, to protect their loved ones and those left to mourn the losses of war.

Lady Lellremi stared out over the vast barren wastelands of the Sensalar Desert. The enemy was there, indefinately. The air was dense, the putrid stench of the Arr'acks hung low like a poisonous fog.

Over the past months the Slenia quickly learned the value of observation and stealth, as well as the skills of the Lance, Sword and Bow.

Several of the Frena and Seskan women positioned themselves behind the large sand dunes. Clad in the pale browns and sand colours of the Frena people, each dressed in light leather armour, suitable for the heated conditions of the day and woollen cloaks to provide much needed warmth as the temperature dropped at night. Needless to say, they were camouflaged. Silently, they awaited the instructions of their High Lady. Many of the Slenia warriors were worried at the speed in which the enemy had managed to proceed so far inland. They had been receiving messages from dragon scouts throughout the months in which they had been training. Every time, it was news that the Arr'acks were moving further inland and seemingly avoiding contact with the human Kingdoms of Wolf Sail and Silver Horn.

Lellremi sighed, she had taken half the Slenia forces out to meet this troop of enemy ranks, but she couldn’t shift the feeling of dread that rested in her stomach. Time for training had ended too quickly for them, many things now rested with fate. They had yet to test the armour and weaponry, some of the Slenia had yet to see a battle, though many had fought in small skirmishes along the western coasts. All these minor things were adding to the greater problem of causalities. The great risk of death these women were facing and how, if they should fall in battle, their deaths were to be explained to the clans.

Ellezira crouched soundlessly beside her, a simple wooden bow clutched in her hand. It still astounded Lellremi how apt a warrior Ellezira had become in such a short time. She was naturally drawn to the bow and under the guidance of the Master Bowman, Zail’an, the Ravar woman had quickly and effectively honed her skills.

Darkness was beginning to descend over the desert and the air was turning cold.

“They wait for the cover of night to attack.” Lellremi mused drawing the sand coloured cloak around her shoulders.

Ellezira nodded silently beside her. Her own gaze resting on the leather cuff fastened to her wrist, a cuff gifted to each and every Slenia warrior, uniting them together under one hideable banner.

“You are not alone anymore Ellezira,” Lellremi told her gently, looking at the dark haired she-elf.

Ellezira flicked her gaze to the Frena High Lady and smiled, “Mesc jes, nel sas yana mesci yasentscet”.

Lellremi smiled lightly, and returned her attention back to the motionless sand dunes before them.

A long, drawn out hiss sounded from beyond the dunes, followed by inhuman screams and a wave of loud clicking noises that resembled a horde of angry rattlesnakes.

“Kelina bensare niscae,” Lellremi instructed, her voice calm and unwavering.

Ellezira notched her bow, silently praying they survived and that the light would hold out long enough for her and the other archers to make a dent in this Arr'ack troop before she had to resort to her Hatchets.

As the shadows began to darken, a large mass of lumbering scaly creatures breached the peaks of the dunes just before the waiting Slenia ranks. Screeching and hissing out a primitive war cry.

Lellremi narrowed her eyes and a look of determination graced her features. “Noorarl!” she yelled, as the Slenia ranks answered the enemy with a screaming war cry of their own.

            The firelight flickered, as the flames consumed the logs of dried oak, snapping and crackling hungrily.

The Master Bowman Zail’an of the Frena clan sat silently, his fingers encompassing the polished wood of his staff. He sighed bitterly looking at the piece of wood that was his walking aid. He hated the fact he needed it to move around, he hated the fact he had been a victim of an Arr'ack warriors' barbed talons. Worst of all he hated it because he couldn’t help to protect his people. He despised feeling useless as he did at that moment. He knew though the feeling would not last long, soon his kinswomen and the Slenia warriors would return from the Sensalar deserts, hopefully victorious over the Arr'ack troop that the dragon scouts had reported in the area.

Several moon cycles past, his High Lady came to him and told him of the Slenia Kavare, asking him to train them in the art of the bow. He had been unsure in the beginning; the injury to his left thigh was still severely restricting his movements even with the aid of a staff. However, when he met the Slenia women and witnessed their determination to fight this enemy, he had agreed instantly and sworn of oath of secrecy not to reveal the Slenia to the other Clans. Several other Frena men also took the oath; all fifteen were Frena Royal guards.

A Frena warrior joined Zail’an by the fire quietly, his copper hair pulled back from his face, extenuating his high forehead and cheek bones.

Zail’an raised his dark eyes to regard his brother Larn, a Royal Guard for High Lady Lellremi, “Anshabrother,” he smiled slightly.

Larn nodded in return, his own dark eyes resting on the flames before him, his sand coloured cloak draped around his shoulders, offering him more protection against the cold than his armour could give. “Are we wrong to do this?” he questioned quietly, his voice barely a whisper encase someone should be listening.

Zail’an frowned, slightly confused in what his brother was asking, “To do what Larn?”

“Aiding our Lady in this plan, it seems too dangerous and has many flaws”.

Zail’an rested his eyes on the fire. “Even the best laid plans have flaws brother. Lady Lellremi, gave us a choice all those months ago, and we made ours. You regret making such a decision?”

Larn shook his head slowly. “No I don’t regret it. I just think maybe the consequences will be graver than we can possible imagine..."

Translations.

Ravarin to English:

“Mesc jes, nel sas yana mesci yasentscet”. = “I know and for that I’m thankful”.

“Kelina bensare niscae,” = “Ready your Arms”.

Noorarl!” = “Attack”

“Ansha” = “Greetings”