"The Warlord´s Daughter Prologue" by Delia ´Melarin´ Seilly

They sighted the small group around midday. There were three of them, an old man, an young man and a heavily cloaked woman all mounted on powerful steeds. That was odd in it's self; the lady should have been riding a placid palfry, not a spirited grey mare. But things were even more amiss. Only two people, in this violent area, to guard the lady? The commander of the patrol wondered. Are they mad? Surely they must know the dangers of The Border? From the look of the small group it was obvious that they were from Niralem, the swords and shields that hung around the group were proof of that. The commander smiled grimly as his Second, joined him.

"Rob, what's to do? They're from Niralem or my names not Keith." He asked, running his hands nervously through his thin brown hair.

"Calm yourself man, there are only three of them; were they to prove hostile, it would be no trouble to subdue them." The Commander's smile curled cruelly.
"By the Gods Rob, what are you suggesting?" Keith asked, twining his hands together.

"Well, three travellers alone in the Border would be grateful of an escort, no?" Rob's eyes shone with greed. " Besides, the Governor would reward anyone handsomely should they provide a way for him to ease dealings with the Warlord."

"Rob, that may not be such a good idea. You’ve heard the same rumours as I." Keith knew it would be fruitless to argue with his commander, but he had to try.

"Elves have not been seen for over a hundred years-if they were ever more then wives tales." Rob's tone had changed, leaving no room for argument. "Tell the men to catch up with them." Keith sighed, then saluted his commander and left to relay his orders to the men.

The patrol drew even with the small group and hailed them. The woman pulled her horse up, then men following suite. After a brief conference, the old man advanced to where the patrol had stopped. He took off his helmet and tucked it under his arm.

"Greetings, how may we help you?" the old mans' voice was deep and rich. His face was unwrinkled but covered with a neatly trimmed grey beard streaked with pure white. His eye's were a shade of blue that put the cloudless sky to shame. The man was old, very old. He aura felt like those of the old books in the Governors library: full of wisdom and old as the hills they were standing on. Despite his age the man was agile enough, managing his horse with ease. He was fit and muscular; none of the men of the patrol doubted that he could use the slightly curved blade that hung from his hip.

"I think it is we that can help you," the patrol's commander replied. "Do you not know the terrors of this area?" the commander smiled slightly as he spoke, like one explaining to a child that one and one makes two.

"Well indeed, better then you I dare say," the man spat the words out, showing his obvious displeasure at Rob's tone.

"What do you mean by that, sir?" the commander answered, curtly this time.

"I have been through this valley, before you were a twinkle in your father's eye. I know the perils and they me."

Presently the younger man and the cloaked lady joined them. The old man bowed in his saddle to the lady, with out taking his eyes from Rob, and whispered something inaudible. The lady nodded.

"Pray, what are you doing here?" the lady asked, her voice, sweet yet harsh at the same time, issued from the shadowed depths of her hood.

Rob tried to look into the lady's eyes, but all he could see were pinpricks of light. He found couldn't look away, no matter how hard he tried.

"We are patrolling the area, miss. May I offer you an escort?" The younger man stirred at Rob's words.

""miss"? Do you not know who you are talking to? You address her as-" the lady stopped his out burst with a gentle hand on his elbow.

"It seems to me that we need to be introduced. This" the lady gestured to the old man " is Neiklot, my mentor and advisor to the Warlord, and this is Tobac, head of his Majesty's Own Guard," she finished with a gestured to the younger man. She paused, lifted a hand and pushed back her hood. Her green eyes flashed in the dying sunlight. She smiled, a guarded smile that failed to reach her green eyes.

"I am Mylarina, and I accept your offer of an escort."