David Dalglish - Wrath of Lions

But before energy could leap from her palms, her arms were forced to her side and a hand was pressed over her mouth. She struggled against the grip, but it was too strong.

“Leave her be!” she heard Kindren shout, and when she glanced to the side, she saw her love charging toward her, his sword held high. He never reached her, though, for an arrow pierced his shoulder not a moment later, dropping him to the ground. She tried to call out to him, but the fingers that bound her would not loosen their grip. The rest of those who had made the journey, including Aaromar, dropped their weapons and huddled close together.

Aully was hauled to her mother’s side, the hand of her unseen assailant still pressed firmly over her lips. Lady Audrianna did not flinch, not even when Ethir stopped mere inches from her and leaned in so close their noses were almost touching. Aully’s eyes widened, and she kicked all the harder, torn between concern for what might happen to her mother and what had already happened to Kindren.

Ethir glanced at Hadrik, Mella, and Lolly. He jutted his chin at them, and they took off running, disappearing into the trees. He then stepped back and scowled as another elf dragged Kindren toward the rest of the group.

“Mordrik, release her,” Ethir said.

The hands holding Aully finally fell away, and she ran to her love’s side, gaping at the arrow that still protruded from his flesh.

“What is the meaning of this?” her mother asked, voice icy.

“You are no longer wanted here, Audrianna,” Ethir said. “You should have remained dead.”

“You haven’t the right.”

“We have every right.”

“We shall see about that. I demand to see Detrick right this moment. If he truly believes that he can-”

Ethir’s fist struck Lady Audrianna’s face with such force that her nose shattered on impact. The crack was loud as a thunderclap to Aully’s ears. Audrianna teetered to the side and then collapsed, landing hard on the ground beside Kindren. Aully was thrown into a panic as the surrounding elves descended on her fragile group. She remembered the day the Quellan had turned against them, the day she’d watched her father’s head fall from his body. She sobbed and sobbed, certain it was happening again. The last thing she saw was Kindren’s hand squeezing hers tight, and then a bag was flung over her head, covering the world in darkness. She was hauled off the ground and carried, unable to fight her captor. Her body bounced up and down, up and down. Her senses were muffled by the sack, and she could only hear indecipherable sounds.

Suddenly something hard whacked her in the head, then in the legs, and she began to sway. It was a weightless feeling, and she began to feel sick. She clamped her mouth shut, closed her eyes, and prayed for the goddess to keep her safe.

We made the wrong choice, Celestia, she thought. I am sorry.

Eventually the sick feeling passed. After a while, she heard muted voices, and the creak of hinges, and then her ankles, the only part of her not covered by the sack, were brushed with cool air. The sounds that assailed her were much louder now. She could make out distinctive voices, the tramping of feet, the thud of spears being jabbed against a wooden floor.

She was carelessly tossed to the ground, landing hard on her side and jarring her elbow. The sack was then lifted from her, and she was blinded by brightness. Covering her eyes with one hand, she curled into a ball, ready for whatever horrors awaited her.

For a long moment, no sound reached her ears but breathing. Feeling eyes upon her, she swallowed her fear and dropped her hands from her face. To her astonishment, she was in a place she knew well-the courtroom of the Lord of Stonewood. She was sprawled out in the middle of the floor, with elves standing guard to her left and right. In front of her, sitting in the Lord’s Chair that had once been her father’s, was her Uncle Detrick. He was dressed in a simple robe and his long russet hair was tied in a knot atop his head.

Detrick looked down at her, eyelids raised. “Aully?” he said, his voice as surprised as Hadrik’s had been earlier. He looked at those standing guard. “Why was I not told that my niece had returned? What was I not told that she was alive ?”

“Because we just now discovered her, Detrick.” Ethir appeared from behind Aully, wiping blood from his knuckles. “Along with Audrianna and thirty others. Oh, and I believe the prince of Dezerea was with them as well.”

“You shot him with an arrow,” Aully growled. She reached out toward him, words of magic on her lips once more. Ethir grunted and ground her hand into the floor with his heel. She shrieked.

“Stop that!” shouted Detrick. “You did what ? Ethir, what is going on here?”

“The prince is alive, Detrick,” the hard elf replied. “He is being cared for as we speak.” He lifted his foot and Aully withdrew her hand, clutching it tightly to her chest.

“And Audrianna? Where is she?”

Ethir smirked. “Resting. She had a…rough go of it.”

“And the rest?”

“They were taken to the bathhouse for cleaning,” he replied with a chuckle.

“They are not to be harmed, are they?” asked Detrick.

To Aully, it sounded like an actual question, and she was thrown into confusion once more. Though her uncle sat in the Lord’s Chair, he was not acting like a Lord.

“That is not for us to decide,” said Ethir.

Detrick frowned, looking from Ethir to Aully. “Please, leave us,” he told the guards. “I wish to speak with my niece alone.”

The elves saluted and exited the chamber single file. Only Ethir lingered.

“You too,” Detrick commanded. “Alone means alone .”

“I cannot do that, my Lord,” the militant elf replied. “You know very well…”

“Go, Ethir,” said a new voice, one Aully had never heard before. “I think we can handle a young girl on our own.”

“Yes, my Lord,” said Ethir. He bowed in reverence and backed away. The door clicked shut behind him a moment later.

Aully slowly rose to her feet, gazing to the left, in the direction of the chamber’s darkened washroom. Her eyes grew wide as she watched an elf who looked very much like her father stride proudly from the shadows. He was tall and slender, his hair smooth like satin, his eyes dark like the river at night. When he reached Aully, he knelt down before her, then took her injured hand in his and kissed it. His smile lit the room.

“I don’t think we have ever met, have we?” the elf said, and the mirage was broken. His smile was too forced; the way he carried himself was all wrong; and his hands were too rough when he touched her. There were lines on his face that weren’t quite right either, and his eyes had a sprinkle of gold in them.

“Who…who are you?” she asked.

“I am your long-lost brother,” he said, as if it were simple, obvious. “Carskel Meln, come home at last.”

Aully was in a daze as she hefted her body off the floor. The weight of the world seemed to press down on her shoulders, and her thoughts were jumbled. She had heard her mother whisper that name while in mourning for Brienna.…

“You were exiled,” she said. “Sent away by our parents.”

She heard Detrick snort, which was answered with a nasty look from Carskel. When he turned back toward her, his calm had been restored.

“I was in love once,” Carskel said, almost wistfully. “In love with the most beautiful elf in all of Stonewood. Alas, she loved another, a human no less. That, I could not allow. I was determined to make her love me , so I snuck into her room one evening, and we made love then and there. It was beautiful.”