The Last Elf of Lanis Read Online Free

wolf by its side was almost certainly the lead female of the pack. There were eight wolves including a young male that had a snow-white coat. The wolves stepped closer, their hunger a beacon in their eyes. The Archer pulled his arrow taught. Its tip sighted on a point centered dead between the lead wolf’s eyes.
    Alrhett slowly raised her hands, her braided white hair swaying. “We are clan of the Wylfling and have need,” she spoke directly to the lead wolf. “And we respect these stauer are yours by right. Let us depart in peace.” Alrhett thought of the many treaties she had failed to negotiate among the crafty lords of Rogar Li, the capitol of the Weald. Would she be unable to make a truce with a simple animal? The lead wolf snarled.
    “He says we may leave,” Alrhett said with relief.
    With that the humans slowly retreated into the grass of the Meadowlands. As Arnwylf slowly backed away from the scene of the kill, he could hear the wolves snarling and tearing the stauer’s hide as they ripped the carcass to pieces.
    Unknown to the human clan as they made their way east across the tall waving grass of the meadow, the young, white wolf broke away from the devouring of the stauer and turned to follow the elf following the humans.

 
    Chapter Three
     
    Rion Ta
     
    Haergill limped through the pasture of the Meadowlands. The vast, level grasses had more shrubs as they traveled further east, and the passage was a little more difficult. Haergill held his thick, barrel chest. It hurt to breathe. He had probably broken a few ribs when he had fallen from the stauer.
    And, the raw meat wasn’t sitting well in his stomach. He was used to cooked meat, but he felt good that his family had eaten. The tall, dark green rim of trees that started the edge of the Weald was visible now. The village, Rion Ta, would be right where the forest began. Humans ruled the wooded areas. The thick canopy of interlocking oaks and arching elms was a perfect environment for ingenious and clever humans.
    Haergill thought of the night Varknifl and his henchmen found him hiding in Bittel. That rainy, summer night, he had killed them all not too far from where they had just passed. Perhaps he was treading over their very bones at this very instant. The thought put him in a foul mood.
    Something gnawed at Haergill, and he had to reconcile his feelings. Haergill worked his way up the line of quickly moving humans with some difficulty. He saw Arnwylf smile at him as he passed him, and returned the smile. The boy was a good person and would someday be a fine, honorable man.
    Haergill passed Kellabald and they shared a grim look. With difficulty Haergill made his way to the Archer’s side. The dark haired, dark eyed man turned slightly to notice him.
    Haergill spoke boldly to the Archer, “Why didn’t you use one of those black arrows on the stauer? You could have killed it in one shot.”
    The Archer turned his head slightly to pierce Haergill with a sharp look, but continued on in silence.
    The anger of Haergill’s race, his people, welled up inside of him. He was the son of a warrior king, but he tried to control his violent feelings. He had seen almost his whole people wiped away by useless civil wars. The wars had weakened the Northern Kingdom of Man, making the attack of the organized and swift garonds too easy, too devastating.
    Haergill could fe el his hands moving of their own accord and he reached out to grab the wool of the Archer’s dark green hood.  In a flashing instant, the Archer held a bronze knife to Haergill’s throat, as the whole party came to a halt.
    The Archer and Haergill regarded each other in tense silence, both their eyes burning. Kellabald quietly stepped to the two, but was careful not to speak or make sudden movements, which would precipitate a fight.
    Haergill spoke quietly but courageously, “We thank you for saving us from the garonds, but we are free humans, and will not be treated as slaves.”
    The Archer