-Callen-

  Turning away from yet another carpentry specialist, I couldn’t help but sigh helplessly. The conversations always seemed to lead with an arrogant “Are you worthy of learning from me?” which would have been fine if I could find someone willing to fulfill my request. After all, while learning would’ve been nice, the time it takes to master a skill is something I may not have with the elves lying in wait in the forest. As it turns out, finding someone skilled enough to bind the fragments of the wither tree in a single object is something even specialists can’t handle. Morin, one of the best in the city, was the only one who I was able to goad into trying, but before the glue used to bind the wood even dried, it turned to blackened ash. When he gave up, his entire body was pale and trembling from contact with the fragments. Which led to the discovery of another problem. Well, it might not have been a discovery, more me forgetting one of the fundamental rules about why Callia had to carve the spear herself. Nobody, not even me, could touch the spear without consequence.

  I moved back up to the walls as the day started drawing to a close. An entire day without any kind of action from the elves. It didn’t match the typical harassment tactics they had used in any of the previous cities and towns. As for what could be deterring them, most were thinking it was the wave strike washing them away or the thick mud impairing movement, but I couldn’t bring myself to accept either of those answers. With a spotter at the ready, it was easy for anyone at their level to withdraw well before the wave hit. Mud wasn’t a reasonable excuse either. While it might make movement more difficult, especially for a massed assault, it wasn’t enough to call off small harassment and attritionary attacks. I focused intensely on the forest, trying to spot any detail amiss or a hidden elf moving in the dark. My physical senses might not be as sharp as Callia’s, but they were easily as good as or better than the best spotters on the wall.

  There was nothing, not a single step older than a day. Abandoning my eyesight, I closed my eyes and focused my senses again, this time instead emphasizing my mana sense. Trying to feel mana far away isn’t what the skill was intended for, but despite that I managed to brute force the skill into what I wanted. I almost assumed it wasn’t working until I felt the presence of a small pack of wolves moving in towards the edge of the forest and the scouts who had been sent out earlier returning unharmed. Elves have a relatively limited set of skills, and stealth is among them; even suppressing mana is likely common. I wasn’t looking for one or two elves but an army of hundreds, and I found nothing. The elves left suddenly and without any warnings or signs.

  I jumped down from the wall and into the city, running for the command post. The guards, recognizing me, make way, letting me through to the office that Karia was stuck behind while she familiarized herself with the local forces.

  “Your Grace, I was concerned with the silence and inaction from the elves, so I went to the wall and tried searching for any traces. I was able to identify our scouts returning unharmed and wild animals beginning to move in from the direction we thought the elves were camping. I suspect the elves have given up attacking this city.” Karia’s face twists into one of resignation. Her fist tightens and lets loose.

  “It seems the elves aren’t content whittling us away. It makes sense; they have nothing to defend, while we have to block their access into human territories. They are free to reposition and attack us wherever we are weak, and in doing so are forcing our hand in confronting them. I didn’t want to make a call like this, but our only chance is to harass them as they harass us. Baron Marek,” I snap to attention as I realize she’s addressing me by my new surname and title. “As a noble with the skill to kill and ability to evade, I’m giving you a special squad of six knights. Your mission is to pursue and report the movements of the elven forces. Harass them if you can, but the transmission of intel is vital. I’ll leave judgment in the field to you, but I ask that you be careful.” I bowed in acceptance of the command. “I’ll have my aide lead you to a training ground where I’ll have the others chosen under your command gather.” With her orders clear, I made my way out and waited for the others.

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  A sliver of nervousness wormed its way into my heart. Previously I was placed into roles of logistical management, but this was my first act as the commander of soldiers. How do I make a good impression? What if they are hostile to my leadership? Questions like those inevitably cropped up with no answers. However, internal doubt didn’t delay the arrival of my men. The first to show up was a graying old man with a large warhammer. He gave a quiet nod of respect while we waited for the others. Next, a pair of identical middle-aged men each duel wielding shortswords. I had seen them arrive among the earliest in the rush to rescue the previous town. I suspect they are twins with a connection similar to Callia's and mine. They both came up to salute me, and the one on the right spoke up.

  “Baron Marek, Knight Jolen reporting for duty, and my brother is here to see me off.” I nod in appreciation and bid them to relax while we waited on the others. Two members of the scouting force arrived at the same time. Clearly they were redirected to me after submitting their reports. Then the last two finally showed up. One clearly wasn’t a knight but was wearing a logo all too familiar. My blood almost boiled as I looked at an elite of the Snatcher Guild. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to look aside to the last arrival, a grizzled-looking man with a lumberjack guild logo. I softly sigh and push myself off the wall I was leaning against while waiting.

  “I am Baron Callen. If you haven’t been briefed yet, I’ll sum up our objectives. We are a pursuit team and will report the movements of the elvish forces as well as strike at opportune targets. Give me each of your names as well as your specialties.” My tone was slightly clipped as I pushed down the unpleasant memories of the snatcher guild. They were not the problem to address here and now as much as I disliked the organization. The older knight stepped forward first.

  “Sir Luther, I’ve been placed second in command. My specialty is melee and attention drawing with significant levels in non-combat mobility.” He stepped back, and one of the twins moved forward.

  “Sir Jolen, I’m our link to report movements to the main force. I have a twin bond with my brother Solen, so we won’t need to worry about information delays. In combat I specialize in attacks of opportunity and mobility, but I’m still solid in a frontal confrontation.” The group at this point seemed to just be settling in on reporting in the order of arrival.

  “Bellam, scout and former squire, but my knight died in combat. Tracking and archery are my specialties. I’m confident that I can keep up with the best.” I give him a warm smile while inwardly chuckling at his confidence. I was looking forward to seeing how he compares to Callia, not that I was expecting better, but he did promise to keep up with the best. The other scout knocks the back of Bellam’s head with a playful bump.

  “Sir Wellman, I’m also a scout, but don’t compare me to this idiot. I may not be the best, but I’m at least better than him.” He gave a smug smirk at Bellam, who looked ready to get in a fight, but the next introduction started drawing his attention back to the group. The snatcher’s low voice is clear despite his soft tone.

  “Polo, ambush specialist.” We waited a moment to see if there was any more to his introduction, but eventually our last member decided to speak up.

  “Uther, survivalist and one of the top members of my guild. I’ve been told we won’t have to worry about food, but there’s plenty more than starvation that can go wrong. Never was a warrior, but there is plenty of fighting in my line of work, so I won’t hold the group back.”

  Moladin

  Callia disappeared from before the guard captain and the mage and cringed as her mind struggled to adjust from the unbraced transition. The first sensation she recognized was the lack of material beneath her. The rushing of the wind let her know she had blinked somewhere with no ground support. In the next moment she recognized where she was, high in the air about half of a field away from the vault. With her body racing to the ground, she tried to search the void for something to catch her, but her mind struggled as a concussion from cracking her skull threatened to steal what little consciousness she clung to. She shielded her head as best she could just as she hit the ground. On impact the world around her went black, so she couldn’t respond as a paladin in tattered and worn armor burst from the ground like a mole, grabbing her body and sinking back in unnoticed. Moments later guards, conscripts, and paladins swarmed the field searching for any trace.

  Romans 12:1 NIV - Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship.