Rise of the Silvan: The Silvan Book V by R.K. Lander

Author:R.K. Lander [Lander, R.K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-04-08T16:00:00+00:00

Fel’annár had scared them. He could tell by the way some of the warriors could not quite look him in the eye.

Some of them had seen him react to the forest before. But this time, he had been closer to them, and the energy he felt - had emitted - was stronger than it had been before.

It made sense. He’d been in the Evergreen Wood, knew that something had changed, and last night was proof of it.

Pan’assár and Gor’sadén rode at the front of their mounted contingent. Behind, Fel’annár and his Company, and then Bulan, Benat and Amon led the rest of their party.

The five hundred mounted warriors would take two weeks to reach Lan Taria. Once there, they would survey the land while they waited for Eramor and the foot soldiers to join them. If all went well, the supplies from the Calro river would already be there when they arrived.

The truth was, that their entire army save for a few hundred, had marched northwards with nothing but Fel’annár’s assurances that war was coming. It was blind faith to most of them, a surety to others: The Company, the commanders; even Bulan.

It was, perhaps, the only reason why he was glad of his physical transformation. It was something beyond his control, frightened others and yet it lent credence to his claims, whether or not they made sense.

The voice of the trees was incessant, as if they feared Fel’annár had not heard. They knew that he had and still, they cried out to him, told him that the horizon was black during the day, orange at night. And with every day that passed, the stain was wider, thicker.

The enemy was closer.

Soon, they would give him more details: the nature of this approaching army, its numbers and perhaps even their intent. Not for the first time, Fel’annár wondered if there were Listeners in the north, and it suddenly occurred to him that Bulan may know.

He turned in the saddle, found his uncle right behind him. There was an odd look in his eye. It wasn’t fear; more apprehension, he thought.

“Bulan. Are you aware of any Listeners in or around Abiren’á?”

“I know of only two, one of which I know personally, a friend of mine in Abiren’á. But his skill is nothing like yours. I’ve seen him predict the enemy’s position and number. I’ve seen him feel danger before we come across it. As for the other, she lives in Ea Nanú, but that’s all I’ve heard.”

“What’s your friend’s name?”

“Yerái. Lieutenant Yerái.”

Fel’annár knew that name, wondered if it was the same elf they had met on the way back from Tar’eastór.

“He rides as a messenger?”

“He does. He mentioned that he’d come across you together with Pan’assár on his final leg towards Tar’eastór. He sought me out and told me of your coming.”

Fel’annár stared at his uncle. “Is that why you came to the city?”

“Yes. We’d had no orders from the Inner Circle for weeks. We knew something was wrong. It made sense to make the journey there, find out what was going on and meet you.

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