Capture

Ali, Aris, and Dest'rei are captured by slavers.

Just as Lynya finished speaking, I heard something.  I knew better than to snap my head toward the sound.  That would only alert whatever was out there to my presence.  Instead, I slowly rotated my head to face the direction the sound had come from, straining my eyes to see.  No movement for a bit, then someone raised their head. 

            Lynya, I said silently and urgently, Wake them up!  Now! 

            She obeyed, body close to the ground so as to avoid being seen.  I returned full attention to the potential attacker.  Or attackers.  I just had a really bad feeling about this.

            Suddenly, Dest’rei was at my side.  Enemies, he said in mind-speak.  There are too many to fight… 

            I grimaced.  What, do we surrender? 

            He shook his head, drawing his sword, No, we’ll see what they want.  Aris came up behind us, also pulling out a sword (we had kept the assassin’s sword).  He touched my shoulder, gently.  I smiled a little; apparently we were friends again.  I flashed him a mischievous grin, unsheathing my own sword. 

            Pull your hood over and don’t show them who you are!  Dest’rei said sharply.  I had forgotten I was wearing a traveling cloak.  Pulling the hood far over my head, I stepped to the back and left of my teacher.  Aris flanked him on the other side, also putting on his hood to make me less conspicuous.  Lynya crouched by my side, back arched, hissing softly.  In that manner we waited, tense and apprehensive.

            Before long, a harsh voice rang out of the dark.  “Now, now, let’s drop those nasty weapons.  Before someone gets hurt.” 

            Dest’rei said to us, Let me do the talking.

             Out loud he said, “We have not disturbed you.  Why do you trouble us?”  His voice was clear and steady.  I was impressed, but then, I had expected no less. 

            Another, new voice called out, “He’s a bloody elf!  We can get a fair amount for him!" 

            Aris stiffened beside me at the insult to his friend. 

            Slavers, Lynya said grimly to us.  I tightened my grip on my sword till my knuckles were white. 

            Courage, my friends, Dest’rei whispered, turning to us.  Then he swung around to face the slavers, only to have to throw up pale green shield of magic as five men bore down on us with clubs and knives. 

            Look to the rear, Lynya warned.  I did, ignoring the tight knot of fear in my stomach as I saw at least three other thugs rush me.  In my peripheral vision, I noticed five more go for Aris.  After that, I was too busy defending myself to keep an eye on either Aris or Dest’rei.

            It was a fruitless battle for us.  We were outnumbered by at least six-to-one.  But I think I, at least, was too stubborn to admit defeat.  By now, I knew Aris well enough to know that he would fight to the death rather than surrender and be captured.  And I was beginning to understand Dest’rei’s personality; once he began something, he was going to finish it, and nothing would stand in his way.  So all of us continued fighting.  Even Alonwyn and Lynya were fighting, Alonwyn striking out with his hooves and Lynya with claws unsheathed.  Every once in a while, she would hiss softly and a bloom of magic would appear and engulf a man, and the unlucky man would collapse. 

            We held our own for a bit, but then Dest’rei cried out sharply in pain and both Aris and I whirled around to help.  The elf was bleeding heavily from his side, and taking advantage of his weakness, a slaver (who must have been a mage and the leader) growled something.  Glimmering brownish red cords whipped around Dest’rei.  The second the magical cords touched Dest’rei, he went deathly pale and began sweating, and I somehow knew that my teacher was in great pain.  Run, you two!  I’ll be fine.  Get out of here now!    He was on his knees now, green eyes anguished.  His mind-voice was strained.  He wasn’t fine, and we all knew it.  Aris’ angry grayish-black eyes met mine for a split second, and we reached a silent agreement.  We weren’t going to leave Dest’rei. 

            Aris dropped his sword, putting his hands behind his head.  I didn’t.  I had an idea.  Throwing my hood back, I faced Dest’rei’s tormentor so he could see my facial features. 

            “I am Princess Aeralia, Daughter of King Agrenvr Dovmir, Crown Heir to the Aestarlin Throne.”  I proclaimed.  Pressing my own sword to my throat, I ordered, “Release the elf, or I’ll kill myself.  That would be a shame, seeing as I’m worth a bit more than your common slave.”  I felt a cold smile spread across my face. 

            I was bluffing, of course.  I wouldn’t actually kill myself, but they couldn’t be sure of whether I was serious or not.  The lead slaver held my gaze for a long moment, but finally he swore and broke off the spell.  Dest’rei slumped to the ground; Aris ran to him, helping him into a sitting position.

            “All right, little Princess.  I’ve done what you asked.  Now drop your sword,” said the lead slaver, the last three words quiet and menacing.  I considered disobeying, then at a glare from Lynya, dropped my sword.  Putting my hands behind my head, I said to Lynya, Can you lead Alonwyn away from here?  I don’t want him to be sold.  They won’t dare to treat us too badly now; they’re afraid of what my father might do to them.  After all, they just assaulted the Heir to the Throne and her companions.  But they might sell Alonwyn, and I won’t have that. 

            I waited until she nodded and reluctantly answered, All right, Mistress.  Don’t worry about us. 

            With that, she mewed softly at my stallion.  To my surprise, he lowered his head to look at her, then followed her away. 

            “Hey! Gunric!”  One of the slavers gave a rough shout.  I couldn’t stop myself from smiling grimly.  The slave leader, Gunric, turned and stared at the two animals ambling away. 

            “Let them go,” he grunted.  “The real prize is right here.” 

            He stalked over to Aris, who was kneeling by Dest’rei, and pressed a long knife to his throat.  Aris’ eyes flared angrily, but there was nothing he could do.  “Elf, Princess, cooperate, or your little friend is as good as dead.”

            I was thinking hard as a slaver put manacles on my hands and feet.  In a perfect world, this wasn’t that big of a problem.  The slavers would ransom me and Dest’rei off, and they’d sell Aris.  Hopefully, they’d sell Aris first.  He would have a good chance of escaping from his new owners.  Then, once we were ransomed off, the three of us could meet back up.  In actuality, it was a very big problem.  The slavers wouldn’t sell Aris; it was too much of a risk.  If Aris was sold, he could spread the word about a group of slavers that were holding the princess ransom.  No, they wouldn’t sell him.  I had no doubt that they would slit Aris’ throat one dark night.    

            Another factor to add was that time stopped for nobody.  We couldn’t afford to lose weeks, as was likely if we couldn’t escape.  And ever in the back of all of our minds was Xan’s plight. 

 

Author's Note

This is my favorite chapter so far, maybe because there's a lot of things happening in it... What do you think?