Exactly a week later the army was assembled on the plains outside of Archain's walls. Colored banners hung on lances, and swords were polished and shining. The smell of horse manure reeked in the soldiers' nostrils as they listened to the whinnying of the steeds and the sound of metal on metal as their companions moved to their positions. The sun was just peaking over the hills, casting looming shadows over the landscape.

Castor rode in a small group of elite leaders that started two miles in front of the main army. Included in this group were Merric, Horace, Guilin, Ferris, and one of Guilin's knights. Three soldiers also rode with them while two scouts rode in the rear wearing their traditional light armor. The generals wore heavy armor and broad-swords, save the soldiers who wore traditional mail coats, iron caps, and blue shirts over the mail. The entire company was mounted.

A man came running up to Castor. "Sir, all is ready, we are prepared to march."

"Good, get back to your station and I will sound the horn."

The man nodded and ran away. A few minutes later Castor pulled out a trumpet made of Argle horn and blew a long blast. It flew across the plain, alerting every one of its presence. After two more blasts the lead group, led by Castor, spurred on their horses. With the galloping of hooves and the clinking of armor and weapons, the group surged forward, with a sense of vague, unspoken fear of what may lie ahead.

~ ~ ~

For days the small party, in advance of the army, moved across the plains toward the forest, which was many, many miles to the east. They traveled as fast as they could without wearing down the horses, and never stayed in a city. They made fine progress and crossed no problems. It was perfect, almost too perfect...

On the fifth day they reached the edge of the forest. The huge trees seemed to stretch unendingly into the heavens with stooping bows bending over to form a huge, dense canopy. Yet from where they stood it was impossible to see inside of it due to the thick wall of trees that formed the border of it. They saw movement, shadows that dodged back and forth. As they were setting up camp Merric came to talk to Caster. "Sir, I think we need to post extra guards tonight. God knows what's in that forest."

"Good idea. Post two soldiers at each end of camp and three on the sides. Have them switch every two hours."

"Two hours? Surely the men can last longer than that."

"We have enough to give them a rest. If we switch them often enough they will be far more alert on their shift." Merric nodded and ran off, but they had no trouble that night.

In the morning, Castor was hasty to go. He was anxious to get into the forest. Guilin, Ferris, Merric, and Horace, along with the other soldiers in the group, closed around him, forming the party. It had been decided that the generals would enter the forest first, assessing the situation before having the full army enter.

As they approached the line of trees the commanders slowed their horses to a stop. The trees were so dense and the trunks so twisted that they could barely see anything, save the forest floor. They sat there in silence for a moment.

Willing to wait no longer Castor shouted "Come on!" and plunged into the darkness. The rest of his small band were quick to follow. As he took his first steps in the forest, its beauty took Castor's breath away. The ground was bright green with forest moss and the tree's branches shone a vibrant green. The ponds, rivers, and lakes were as clear as glass, and as smooth as polished stone. Small forest rabbits darted back and forth to avoid the newcomers. It was almost paradise. "This is amazing," Horace breathed.

A small rabbit ran by, but stopped to look at Castor. It had warm, brown eyes, soft fluffy fur, and a small, bushy tail. After looking for a few seconds, the rabbit dashed off into the forest after its friends. Castor looked into one of the ponds to see a huge fish with silver scales and a gaping mouth. It darted around and swam to the bottom disappearing in the gloom. Birds hidden in the dense leaves sang beautiful songs as they passed. Suddenly, the group stopped. Castor snapped out of his haze to see the horror that lie before him.

The woods thinned abruptly into a giant clearing. The only sign of any trees were the dark, chard stumps that still let off small wisps of smoke. The ground was scorched dark brown and even black in places. The smell of burned grass mixed with a dread of what they would find next as they dismounted and slowly looked over the seen. The battle site must have been at least a day old, because the stench of wet embers still hung like a veil over the scene. Dark blotches stained the grass and looked and smelled disturbingly like blood. It was Horace that found it, the first body. He called them over. The figure lie sprawled on the ground in an awkward position. He wore a green vest over a shirt that appeared to have once been somewhat cream colored, but was now soaked in dried blood. He had long, flowing hair and a shattered bow lie beside him. His face was pail and his eyes were nearly closed. His voice came in rasping, short breaths... And his ears were pointed.

"He's an elf."

A voice came from across the clearing. It was richly soft but commanding. "Step away and put your hands where I can see them. No sudden movements."

Castor looked up slowly. A tall figure stood on the other side of the clearing. He had the same qualities: flowing hair, pointed ears, and pail skin, though not the ghostly white of the elf that lie before them. He also had a notched bow pointed right at them, and if he fired, Castor had no doubt, he would not miss. A silver ringlet adorned on his brow.

"Who are you?" Castor asked.

"I might ask you the same thing," The elf answered.

"We mean you no harm."

"I don't know that for a fact, do I? Put your weapons down and walk forward, slowly." He put emphasis on the last word.

"Not on your life," Horace answered.

From across the clearing it looked to Castor that the elf smirked. "It's not my life you are jeopardizing. In fact, I could kill you all here and now before you could even loosen your swords."

Castor had no doubt he was not bluffing. "Put the weapons down," Castor ordered.

"But sir-,"

"Put them down."

Horace, Merric, Guilin, Ferris, and all the other soldiers reluctantly obeyed.

"Good," said the elf. "Now, you there, the leader, come here slowly."

Castor hated it but he obeyed. Horace swore and reached for his sword, but with a start, he found an arrow there instead. Castor had not even seen the arrow move through the air, nor did he see the elf notch another on his bowstring. He walked the remaining length to where the elf stood. The elf signaled him to stop and waved his hand behind him. At least a dozen other elves, all with arrows notched and aimed at the group, emerged from the forest. The leader lowered his bow and put his arrow in his quiver. "I am Theuses of Ilesmatr, Prince of the elves, and defender of this land. Who are you and what are you doing here?"

"I am Castor of Archain, King of the humans, and I have come to aid you in this war."

Theuses's eyes lit with rage. "We don't need your help, and even if we did, how do I know you aren't just working for the Empire? This is Elf territory and we are plenty capable of defending it on our own." He turned away to one of his men who lowered his bow.
"Take the bodies and prepare to leave, we can't stay here long."

"Wait," Castor protested. Theuses ignored him and started to walk away. "Wait!" This time the elf turned around. "What do you want?"

"I want to help you."

"I can't allow that."

"Why not?"

"My father would never permit a human to give us aid." Theuses started to turn but hesitated. "Why do you care so much anyway? There is little risk in this war for you either way it ends."

"That's where you're wrong. If the Empire holds Valdraermisr, Archain will be boxed in with the enemy owning over half the continent. The Drakons have not hesitated to destroy my people in the past. They will do it again. As for your father, I suggest you take me to him.

"Absolutely not." Theuses said, hanging his quiver on his horse's saddle. The fire had left his eyes, but they had been replaced by abstinence.

"Look, I want to help you!"

Theuses finally turned around. "You know what? If it was up to me I would love your help. But my father would never allow it and as it happens, he is king and not I. Now leave."

"Then let me talk to him!"

"Enough!" Theuses snapped. "If that is what you wish, then so be it. You will accompany me and my warriors to Ilesmatr. Prepare your men, we leave immediately. Do not expect any response other than the one I have already given you."

A noise grumbled from the trees. A low, growl that emitted from the west side of the clearing. A massive figure appeared out of the trees. It had the body of a man and the head of a bull. Its thick fur matted on its shoulders and chest. A leather breastplate hung from his chest, and bronze shoulder guards. In its hands it carried one of the biggest battle axes Castor had ever seen. Two long horns came out of either side of its head like long pikes. Standing before them was an Argle.

Two of the elves fired their arrows into his massive skull and he toppled over as blood poured from his face. More Argles poured from the line of concealment.

The elves dropped to their knees and fired arrow after arrow at the beasts. Still, it was difficult to kill them. If you hit them in the leg in would only be a flesh wound, if you hit them on their armor, the arrow would bounce of uselessly, only if you hit them in the skull could you kill them.

After several minutes the elves began to run out of arrows. Two or three pulled thin swords from their belts and charged forward. Quickly, they dispatched four more Argles, yet more came.

It was strange to watch the elves fight. They were different than any other race Castor had ever seen. They fought individually, taking on one Argle each with little consideration to the others, but still having a sense of synchronization. They also were different in the sense that they relied on the ability to be quick. Most soldiers were heavily armored, keeping their center of balance low. This allowed them to stay standing after being hit. Unlike normal soldiers the elves had only white, metal greaves, a leather breastplate, and leather bracers. If they got hit by one of the massive axes of the Argles, they would never rise again. But they didn't get hit, at least not that Castor saw.

Theuses also got involved in the action. He pulled his bow down and dispatched three Argles. It was at this time Castor's men drew their weapons and charged forward. Guilin held his huge, iron spear; Ferris had left his bow at his horse so he fought with a short sword, Merric fought with his broadsword, and Horace with his sword. It was then Castor saw the elf fall. She had been dancing around an Argle and cutting whenever the chance allowed itself, when a second Argle had come up behind her and cut her down with his axe. The now lip figure collapsed on the ground.

"NO!" One of the elves who had stayed back shouted. Quickly he shouted in a foreign language, which Castor guest was a spell. "Magniae yelmos flitri yeth!"

The body flew out of harm's way and stopped by him. He knelt down to her, but Castor saw no more as an Argle charged toward him. He unsheathed his sword and whipped it in a dangerous arc, cutting a thin, red line on the Argles throat. It walked several more steps before collapsing.

Another Argle charged him. This time it lowered its horns and ran toward him. Castor felt an adrenalin rush, the feeling of which you could only get in battle. He stepped to the side at the last second and let the beast run past him. After the Argle had past, he swung his sword, attempting to cut his back. Unfortunately, the blade only bounced off the edge of the armor.

This time the Argle raised his axe over Castor's head. Apparently the Argle lacked the knowledge that this left his stomach wide open. Castor took the opportunity to plunge his sword into the creature's abdomen. It gurgled and collapsed.

Castor looked up. All the others were deep in combat with the Argles. The flow of them seemed to have stopped, but Castor saw at least two elf bodies on the ground, not including the one that had been pulled out of the range of battle.

~ ~ ~

Bantu squinted with suspicion. He wore a short, red silk rob with its hood covering his face. It was short because of the Drakons' lack of size. He sat on a wooden throne, covered in gold, and etched with a massive dragon to symbolize the power the emperor of the Drakons had. Before him his general stood. This Maneket wore a green robe with hood covering his face. A huge sword was strapped to his back and an imperial, golden dagger was in this belt. "Are you sure of this fact?"

"I am," The general answered. "At this minute some of my men are closing in on them. It probably won't actually take them out, but my goal is to only figure out where they're going."

"You are being foolish, Tarris." Bantu growled. "Think. If they are with elves, traveling away from an elfish kill site. What is the word that is common in that sentence?"

"Of course they are going to Ilesmatr, but what I'm wondering about is why."

Bantu stood up from his throne in exasperation, his high, but piercing, voice. "You're not an idiot, Tarris, think! We are attacking Valdraermisr, the home of the elves and the humans are visiting the elves! The humans and elves have a history of being allies, put two and two together!"

"I could have the Argles attack, if that would please you," Tarris hissed through gritted teeth.

"No, the last thing we want right now is to put them on guard. Right now they think they are in control of the situation. We need to figure out what they are doing, while playing with them and giving them a false sense of security. Roughly how many Argles and Drakons do you have under your control at the present moment?"

"Fifty-thousand Argles, which are all being used in the attack of Valdraermisr, and twenty-thousand Manekets, which are currently stationed in the Imperial cities."

"Where are the forces of the Urki? Do they still stay in their filthy villages, hidden in the mountains?"

"Yes sir. We do not have the time or the strength at this time to grab them from their towns and recruit them. We will need a reason for them to fight."

"Do you speak of the Fire Maith?"

"I do."

"He, along with his Brother will be needed if we are to raise the Dark Lord, though now is not the time to free them. No, first we deal with the elves, and then we face the rest of Unisus."

"It shall be as you say, Lord Bantu." Tarris turned and left the hall.

~ ~ ~

Everywhere there were Argle bodies. They, along with their axes and armor, littered the clearing. Three elves had been killed, along with two of Castor's soldiers. One of Theuses's warriors jogged up to him. "Sir, I counted forty-seven. It certainly was not an army, barely even a raiding party."

Theuses turned to Castor. "That's strange. Even normal patrols traveling through here would be at least seventy Argles. A count of forty-seven is pathetically small."

Castor nodded as he wiped the blood from his sword with a rag. "It is strange. If it's that much less than a raiding party what else could they be up to?"

"Are you suggesting they knew where we were?"

"I don't know. It just seems very unusual. Would you mind telling me what happened here?"

Theuses looked slightly surprised, but answered the question. "Elves grow in the forest. To some it is all we ever see. We watch it and nurture it, but most of all we protect it. We have scouts in every corner of the forest watching it and guarding it against intruders or potential enemies.

"Two nights ago we received a message from one of these scouts saying a small force of Argles was coming to take down these trees and haul them north toward the mountain steps. My father immediately assembled a force of elf warriors under the lead of my cousin, Ormas, to stop them. Unfortunately the force of Imperials was larger than expected. Our men were slaughtered. Ormas, the coward that he was, ran from the fight. He was the only survivor and told us of his defeat. My men and I have come to retrieve the dead."

"Why risk it? You knew the Empire was still in the forest, why not just leave them?"

Theuses looked him strait in the eye. "If you are to be around elves there is something you must know. We will risk our lives for our kind. However, we aren't stupid either. We waited until my father was sure the Argles were gone, and then I proceeded with the force of men you now see."

Castor was slightly taken aback by the elves' dedication. They came miles from the safety of their cities and risked their lives for their dead. He wasn't sure he agreed with it, but it did seem right.

Theuses tightened the straps of his white stallion and walked over to what appeared to be his captain. "Tell the others to prepare; we're moving out immediately."

The captain nodded. "Yes sir."

Castor walked over to where one of his scouts was pacing along the edge of the clearing. "What's your name soldier?"

The scout looked up in surprise. "Haron, sir. Just Haron."

The king nodded. "Haron, I have a very important job for you. The army needs to be notified that they are not to travel beyond this point. Have the troops set up command here. Have them dig in for defense at set up all fortification protocols. I will send for them when they are needed."

Twenty minutes later the party of elf and human riders was galloping through the forest with the trees and moss flying by. The eight unscathed elves rode in two, single file lines. Between them Theuses, Castor, and the rest of the humans rode. The dead were draped over three horses, brought for this purpose. Castor took this time to think about all he knew about the elves. He knew they had been created on Unisus, like the other races; he knew they were known for their magic casting, he knew they were mysterious, shadowy creatures, but other than that he knew little. Theuses seemed to read his mind. "Do you wonder of my people?."

Castor nodded, slightly red faced.

"Do not be ashamed, it is a common question asked by men. What do you wish to know?"

"I'm not sure. You just seem to be.... Secretive."

Theuses smiled almost humorously. "That's.... what is the term your people use? An understatement?. We try very hard to be unknown by those around us. That's why my ancestors chose Valdraermisr in the first place. It was a good, peaceful place that allowed us to practice magic and to gain knowledge without the problem of prying eyes. We guard our borders jealously and are not willing to share our secrets easily. I am sorry if with sounds unappreciative, but it is because of this that my father will likely not accept your offer merely due to his pride."

"By the same token, this may sound insensitive, but it was not an offer."

Theuses smiled again. "Then this should prove to be an interesting meeting."

Castor also cracked a smile. "That it should." They rode in silence for a moment before Castor asked another question. "Tell me about your armies. I have found that they tell much about a commander's mind."

"Of course. First, our army is not like that of yours, nor any other army in Unisus. We fight as a mass, not a unit. Soldiers are lightly armored, but powerfully armed. The leaders of the army are lords, and under them are the knights. The common soldier wears silver armor, engraved with his family symbol. The most common weapons are bows, swords and I'rl, which are like spears except that they have blades on each end opposed to points.

"Though the lords are our generals, they are not always the strongest in our ranks. An elite force called the Aurtha Ra guard the kings and queens and act as special troops only under their command. Will that do as a description?"

"For now."

"And what does that reveal about me?"

"More than a little and less than a lot."

Theuses looked at him queerly. "I am not sure I understand."

"In other words, not very much, but enough for now."

"Good, because we have come to Ilesmatr." Theuses raised his hand, halting the party. A misty figure appeared in front of them. Castor only saw it for a moment before it nodded and disappeared.

Theuses then lead the group forward. They came out on a leaf covered section of ground that stood on the edge of a valley. A large tree stuck out of the ground, wrapped in a strange pattern. The branches also wrapped into a roof high above it. "What is that?" Castor asked.

"A watch tower. Again, we elves are strong, but we aren't stupid." As they walked farther Castor saw how immense the valley was. It was nearly a mile in diameter, but only about a quarter of a mile in depth. In it thousands of trees stretched up into the heavens in wooden pillars. Theuses led the men down the valley wall and into the wood. As they approached Castor saw what it really was. Elf houses were built into the trees. The ancient roots wrapped and twisted into houses. Castor also saw mansions. They were made by trees planted in a pattern and allowed to grow together. The branches meshed and wrapped into walls while the top branches twisted into ruffs. The holes were filled by pieces of stained glass, reflecting fabulous colors on the forest floor. A beaten path, obviously the road, wrapped around the houses. The elves stopped and stared as the humans with their elf guard rode by. Several of the passing soldiers reached for their weapons and eyed Castor before walking away at Theuses's nod. The city was even more breathtaking than the forest. It had ponds all over with birds chirping and ducking through the branches. Theuses led the group to area where the trees were not so dense and the forest floor more open with a clear view of the sky. "Welcome to Elorion, the hall of my father."

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