Blood Of Gods

CHAPTER 14

The guard’s name was Dukat, and Aully knew he was a gentle soul.

“I’m sorry for all your troubles,” he said as he led her down the stairs. “Truly, I hope you don’t hate me for this.”

Aully exhaled deeply. “Then why are you doing it?”

The elf shrugged. “Because I wish for us to be more. As a people, I mean.”

“How?”

“I. . I don’t know.”

The stairwell veered to the left, and for a moment Aully thought about spinning around, darting up the stairs past her captor, and hurling herself out of Briar Hall’s tallest window. No. That is the coward’s way out.

“You must have some idea.”

“I suppose. It’s just. . Carskel has said so much of our former glory, of how our people and the Quellan once ruled all these lands. We were free to do as we chose, to go where we chose. But now we’re either stuck here in this forest or the one farther north. We’re surrounded by humans on all sides.” He spat then, a thick wad of phlegm striking the floor just as Aully took another step. “Surrounded by vile rats that were handed lands that used to be ours, rats that treat us as outsiders. We were here first. That should mean something.”

She was taken aback by the anger in his voice. Dukat, once her Uncle Detrick’s personal guard, was engaged to Aully’s cousin, Mariah. She had never heard him sound so angry.

“So you turn your back on Celestia?”

Dukat laughed. “Celestia abandoned us long ago, Aully. She doesn’t care.”

That’s not true, but she didn’t put the thought to words. Playing to his anger, to his perceived role as victim, would only bring his blood to boil. She needed to strike closer to home if she had any chance of escaping.

“But what of me, Dukat? What if Carskel decides to hurt me?”

“He wouldn’t do that, Aully. He loves you. You’re family.”

“Uncle Detrick is family too. That didn’t stop Carskel from cutting off his finger.”

“That’s different.”

Aully turned slightly as she descended, saw doubt begin to spread across Dukat’s face.

“How is that different? Detrick is his uncle too. If he can hurt him, then he could hurt Mariah. Would you want that?”

Dukat paused on the stairwell, shook his head vehemently. “No. That wouldn’t happen.”

“Why not?”

“Because Mariah would never talk down to Carskel like Detrick did. Because she’s respectful.”

“How can you talk of respect and my brother in the same sentence? You know what he did to Brienna. You have to. How can that be forgiven? How can you trust him?”

He forcefully grabbed her shoulders, and his face grew firm. “Both Carskel and Ethir told me of your treachery.” He spun her around and gave her a shove. “I won’t allow you to poison me with lies.”

Anger made her heart beast faster. Not that she’d expected anything different from him. He was the same old Dukat she’d known since the cradle: gentle in the heart, dull in the head.

They passed by the entrance to the courtroom where the Lord’s Chair resided and continued down. Dukat didn’t speak any longer, and Aully let him be. He was dead to her now, a traitor like all the rest, no matter if he was supposed to marry her cousin or how kind he normally was. Betrayal was betrayal, and to Aully that meant a head for a head.

Near the bottom of the winding stairwell was a final door. Dukat roughly stopped her and rapped on the wood. A moment later the door cracked open, and Carskel’s grinning face emerged.

“She is here, as you requested, Lord Carskel,” said Dukat. Aully gnashed her teeth.

“Ah, so good of you, Dukat,” replied Carskel in that much-too-proper voice of his. “Leave her outside, and go back to your duties.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Dukat bowed and marched back up the stairs. The door Carskel had been peeping out of closed, and for a moment Aully thought of making a dash for the exit, which was only fifteen feet below her. But then she saw a shadowy figure pass in front of the portal, a spear jabbing into the walkway, and she slumped against the wall.

Chains were unlatched, and the door opened fully.

“Come in, sweet sister,” Carskel said, standing aside for her to enter. She brushed past him in a rage.

The room she entered was one she had rarely seen, even though she had lived in Briar Hall for all her life. It was her father’s study, and his father’s study before him, where the family history and all the great tomes that had been passed down and added to for two thousand years were kept. Unlike the rest of the Hall, it was a dark and dreary place, windowless to protect the books’ ancient inks from fading. Aully had never liked being in there then, and she liked it less so now.

She breezed through the stacks of books and into the center of the room, where a great marble desk sat. The few times she’d been there before, this desk had been stacked with teetering tomes, but now it was empty but for a small pile of washcloths and a wooden bowl filled with water. A pair of candles offered sparse, gloomy light. She leaned over the desk, examining the swirls in the marble. Her fingers traced over the corner surface, where two elvish letters had been carved.

Breath was on her neck. “Yes, sweet sister. Father kept his desk a mess, but finally you can see its craftsmanship for how shoddy it truly is. Such a waste of good stone. But what can you expect from the one who built it?”

Aully didn’t answer.

Her brother’s arm snaked down, and he placed his hand atop hers, tracing the letters with her.

“Those stand for Gradovic Thyne, the first Lord of Stonewood.”

Aully jerked her hand out from under his and moved away. She kept her chin up and her eyes on the upper shelves, refusing to acknowledge her brother’s presence.

“You were a bad girl, sweet sister, and I hope you’ve spent the past twelve days considering what you’ve done.” Carskel said, sighing. “Ignore me all you wish; that does not alter that I must punish you.”

“Do as you wish,” she said finally. She was amazed at how loud her voice sounded in the cramped space. “There’s nothing you can do to hurt me.”

“Is that so? I would not be so sure of that.”

Aully turned to confront him, saw him leaning against one of the shelves, with that wicked smile he was so fond of pasted on his face. Aully hated that expression, but she was thankful for it too, for whenever he gazed at her like that, he looked less and less like her father.

Another rap came on the door, and Carskel clapped his hands together.

“Our company has arrived,” he said, eagerly kicking himself off the wall and nearly skipping to the door. Aully took a step back in horror as Ethir Ayers shoved Kindren into the study.

“Thank you for the gift, Ethir. Now please, if you could just stand there and not listen, we three have things to discuss.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Ethir took his position against the wall, with his hands behind his back, but Aully didn’t linger on his continued presence. Her every thought was on her betrothed as he slowly lifted himself off the ground. His right arm was no longer in a sling, but it hung lower than his left. His face was bruised, his mouth drawn tight with pain, and as he stood, it looked like it was great agony for him to even move. Yet still his lips curled into a smile and his eyes twinkled.

“Hi, Aully,” he said.

She rushed him, wrapping her arms around his waist. He grunted in pain but did not shove her away, instead twining his fingers in her hair.

“I’ve missed you,” Aully said into his dirty tunic, the same one he’d been wearing when they were captured. It stunk horribly. She didn’t care. She felt close to crying, knowing what Kindren being here meant, and needed to hide her face until it passed. She would not show Carskel any weakness.

“Is that not precious?” said her brother.

Kindren tried to move Aully behind him protectively, but she was having none of it. She gathered herself and twirled around. Her fingers flexed, words of magic forming on her tongue. With Kindren here she felt powerful, and she knew she had nothing to fear. If she could kill Carskel and Ethir quickly, they could sneak down to where her people were being held, gather the rest of her family, and flee back to Ang before anyone was the wiser.

But no electricity sparked at her fingertips, no warmth filled her belly. She couldn’t feel the weave anywhere around her.

Carskel shook his head, pointing to the floor and ceiling. Aully followed his finger, saw the markings scattered all over, a series of symbols she had never noticed before.

“Your own home,” he said, “and you don’t even know the rules. This is the study, child, a library filled with ancient books and ancient knowledge. No magic is allowed in here. The runes demand it. It’d be a terrible tragedy if, for example, a headstrong elven girl summoned a bit of careless fire.”

Aully’s spirits sank. Even Kindren reaching down and grasping her hand didn’t seem to help.

Carskel moved toward the desk and sat down, propping his feet up on it. He motioned to the empty space before him. “Come. Now is when we work out our problems.” When neither Aully nor Kindren moved, his frown deepened. “You will come here now,” he said harshly, “or I will have Ethir force you.”

Ethir, from his place against the wall, snickered.

Aully would have refused still, but Kindren released her hand and stepped toward the desk. After a moment’s hesitation she joined him. When she looked up at the face of her betrothed, she saw his lower jaw shaking. He was frightened, as he had every right to be. In a way Aully envied him, for she wasn’t scared at all; what filled the emptiness inside her was anger.

“There, that’s better,” Carskel said when they stood side by side before him. He pointed his gaze at Aully, shaking his head disappointedly. “Your stunt at the reception was unacceptable. You know I require your help to bring our people to my cause. It is unfair of you to deny me that. So much time I’ve wasted mending the discord you sowed.”

“I hope you’re tortured for eternity in a special underworld all your own,” she shot back. Beside her, she sensed Kindren cringe.

“If any underworld exists, sweet sister, I’m sure I will.” He let out a short burst of laughter. “Then again, I might enjoy it. I have always rather liked the dark.” He brought his attention to Kindren. “And what of you, Prince of Dezerea? Do you wish to see me burn as well?”

Kindren didn’t reply, though it seemed as if he were struggling with some great inner turmoil. Sweat beaded on his brow, turning the dirty hair slathered to his forehead shiny.

“Ah, I see,” Carskel said. “Well, I suppose saying nothing is better than saying the wrong thing.”

Her brother swung his feet off the desk and shot Ethir a sideways glance. Aully never took her eyes off Carskel and noticed the way his expression changed from one moment to the next. She knew what was to come, and when she looked up at Kindren, she saw that he did too.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, and she nodded.

“What was that?” asked Carskel from his place behind the desk.

Aully and her betrothed stayed silent.

Carskel let out a disgusted groan.

“You both are being difficult, but I suppose that is understandable. However, we must deal with the very real problem that you have made for me, Aullienna. Our people are restless. They don’t trust me. They would have been swayed had you not turned your back on me, which makes me quite upset. War is coming as the eastern god marches through his brother’s Paradise, and if we are to survive this, it must be as a united front with our Quellan brothers. That will not happen if I cannot get the people to trust me. So I ask you again, Aullienna Meln, my sweet sister. . will you vouch for me, will you sing my praises to our people? If you do, I will forget all about your betrayal, and we can be like family again.”

Aullienna gave him her sweetest smile as he leaned closer for her answer.

“I know how you treat family,” she said. “Or should I say, Brienna did?”

Before he could react, she spit in his face. He slowly reached for one of the washcloths on the desk and dabbed at the spit dripping down his chin. He then sat back gravely.

“That was unwarranted,” he said. “And most unfortunate. Ethir, your sword, please. Kill the young prince.”

Aully heard the enforcer step away from the wall, heard the hiss of steel drawn from a scabbard, but she didn’t panic. Instead, she grasped Kindren’s hand, felt him shaking, and glared at her brother.

“You won’t kill him,” she said. “You need him.”

“Is that so?”

“You need the Quellan elves. Do you think Lord and Lady Thyne would ever agree to an eventual alliance if their only son is butchered?”

Carskel smiled. “You’re wiser than you let on, Aullienna. Though you are right. The prince here is too valuable to kill.”

“Then let me go,” Kindren said. It was the first time he’d truly spoken since Ethir brought him in, and his voice was shaky. Aully wanted to scream at him to keep his mouth shut.

“It has a voice!” shouted Carskel. “But it will do you no good. While my sweet sister is right that it would be disastrous if you died, she still lacks. . imagination. After all, the Lord and Lady will accept you back, whether you’re whole or not.”

Carskel shot up from his chair, his hand flashing through the open space between them, and snatched Kindren by the collar. Aully bit down on her lip so hard that she pierced the flesh as her betrothed was yanked forward. She went to reach for him, but Ethir slapped her hard across the face and sent her reeling. She thudded on the ground, rubbing her swelling cheek, and screaming filled her ears. She looked up to see Ethir holding Kindren’s head against the marble desktop while Carskel clamped down on her betrothed’s right arm. In his free hand, Carskel held a dagger whose blade gleamed in the low candlelight.

Shaking, Aully got to her feet.

“You leave him be!” she screamed, her fingers balling into fists. “Don’t hurt him!”

Carskel looked at her, still smiling. “Do you promise to do as I asked? Will you sing my praises? Will you not betray me this time?”

The part of her that was still young, that still believed in miracles and happy endings, pleaded with her to say yes. But when she glanced at Kindren’s face, saw the mixture of pain, fear, and defiance in his eyes, she hesitated. She then looked on as he mouthed, “I love you,” and the choice was all but made for her.

“No,” she said.

Her brother appeared genuinely surprised.

“Very well then,” he said. The dagger came down in a flash of silver, striking the desktop with a clang. Kindren’s eyes bulged in his head and his blood-curdling shriek filled the study. Carskel then lifted the dagger and brought it down again, and Kindren’s cries elevated tenfold.

When they were done, Kindren slid off the desk and fell to the floor, right hand clutched to his chest, three fingers missing. Blood spurted from the stumps, spraying his face, painting his youthful features with red streaks.

Aully began to feel faint. She fell to her knees. But she didn’t scream.

Ethir grabbed the bowl of water that had been sitting on the desk and knelt before Kindren. He forced the young elf’s hand into the bowl, washing it, and then proceeded to wrap the washcloths around it. Aully sat on her knees, paralyzed. Her love would never hold a sword, would never pull back a bowstring. And for what?

“For honor. For dignity. For the love of what is right,” a strange voice in her head answered.

“Do you see now?” asked Carskel, and Aully turned her gaze to him. He was sitting again behind the desk, cleaning blood off his dagger. “I seem to have a thing for fingers. First your uncle, now your betrothed.” He looked at her, his eyes deadly serious. “Now tell me, sweet sister, have you changed your mind?”

She sat frozen for a moment, staring at Kindren’s ghostly white face and blank eyes, before shaking her head.

“I won’t,” she whispered.

“I have a certain lady in my possession that might think otherwise, sweet sister.”

Aully looked at him, wishing she could shoot spears of fire from her eyes and kill him on the spot.

“I know to change your thinking so greatly will take time. I give you a month. A month alone in the cellar with these as keepsakes.” He picked up Kindren’s fingers and held them out to her. “I want you to spend that time thinking over all I could give you, both as an ally and a husband. And when you come to me with your answer, it best be the right one. For the next time you see me, it will not be the young prince who feels my blade, but our mother. And trust me when I say that there is no one waiting for her return, no one that does not think she is already a breath away from death. Should you deny me, or betray me again, it will not be her fingers I leave with you in your cell. It will be her head.”