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.“The sky is clear,” added Tintagel.“A million stars will show themselves to us, lend us their strength for the morrow’s fight.”“Daoine Teague Feer?” Galladel asked.“You wish to dance and play?”“It is more than play,” Shayleigh reminded him.“The millions of stars will not complete my million tasks!” cried the frustrated elf king.Shayleigh had to bite her lip to keep from responding.She and a dozen others had offered to assist the king in his planning when they were not out on patrol, but Galladel had taken it all on himself, called it his duty despite the obvious fact that he could not carry the burden alone.“Forgive me,” the king said quietly, seeing Shayleigh’s wounded expression.“I have not the time for Daoine Teague Feer.Perform the celebration in my absence,” he offered graciously.Shayleigh was not ungrateful, but the king’s request was impossible.“Only one of the ruling line may perform Daoine Teague Feer,” she reminded Galladel.The look on the elf king’s face explained much to Shayleigh and Tintagel.Galladel was old and tired and made no secret of the fact that he no longer held much faith for Shilmista’s ancient magic.Daoine Teague Feer was indeed just play to him, a dance with little value beyond its immediate enjoyment.If taken from the king’s disbelieving perspective, then, what did it matter who led the celebration?Still, Shayleigh could not hide her frown.Her king had grown pragmatic, even humanlike, and she could not find the courage to blame him.When she was but a child, only a short two centuries before, a thousand elves had danced in Shilmista.The whole forest, from north to south, echoed with their unending song.Those days seemed far removed now.How many of Shilmista’s children had passed to Evermeet, never to return?Tintagel tapped the maiden on the elbow and nodded to the exit.“You are due on patrol,” the elf wizard whispered to prompt the maiden along.Shayleigh had the presence of mind to dip a bow as she left, but Galladel, already back to poring over the many parchments, did not even notice.A mood of similar frustration gripped the invaders’ camp as twilight descended over Shilmista.Ragnor’s march was making gains, but they came painfully slow and at incredible expense.The elves were fighting better than the ogrillon had expected; he thought he would be more than halfway through Shilmista by this time, but his forces had put only ten to fifteen of the hundred-and-fifty-mile expanse behind them-and they hadn’t even secured those miles they had covered! Ragnor feared that his troops were looking more to the sides for fear of concealed archers than ahead to the trails of conquest.Better news came from the flanks, where resistance had been minimal.Orogs and orcs, running in the foothills of the Snowflake Mountains, had passed the forest’s halfway point, and a tribe of goblins out on the plains to the west had nearly entered the southwestern pass around the forest, where they would set up camp and discourage any reinforcements from the city of Riatavin.But Ragnor knew he did not have the numbers to surround the forest, and if the elves continued to hold him off at the present rate, they would surely find allies before the ogrillon claimed Shilmista for Castle Trinity.And what of the coming winter? Even cocky Ragnor did not believe he could hold the goblinoid rabble at his side when the first snows fell on the forest.Time worked against him, and the brutal elves intended to fight him every step of the way.If the ogrillon had any doubts of the elves’ intent, he had the proof right before him.Looking out across a steep valley and a rushing river, Ragnor watched the latest skirmish.A mixed group of goblins, orcs, and a few ogres had been surprised by a band of elves.Ragnor’s troops had been crossing a field, approaching a thick grove, when a hail of arrows had sent them scrambling for cover.From this far back, the ogrillon had no idea how many enemies his forces faced, but he suspected that the elves were not numerous.Still, they were undeniably effective, for the orcs and goblins had not come out of hiding, and those few brave and stupid ogres who had rushed the tree line had gone crashing down with a score of arrows in their bodies.“Have you sent the giant and a band of bugbears?” the ogrillon snapped at his closest lieutenant, a weak but cunning goblin.“Yesses, my general,” the goblin replied, cowering, and with good reason.Ragnor’s first few “closest advisors” now numbered among the dead, though none of them had gotten anywhere near any elves.Ragnor glared at the goblin, and it cowered even lower, nearly rubbing its belly on the turf.Fortunately for the pitiful creature, the ogrillon had other business on his mind.Ragnor looked back out to the distant battle scene, trying to figure how long it would take his giant to get across the river and within boulder-throwing range.Another anguished cry split the morning air as yet another monstrous soldier caught an elven arrow
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