Rawn’s bowstring creaked as he took aim.
“You must surely be in mourning for a time,” Varden said, taking her hand. “However, once that time has passed, I hope you will consider taking another husband. An exquisite woman such as yourself should not be left to wither in this hovel. I will be honored to take you as my wife.”
“You are kind in your proposal, Lord Karheim,” Aerina replied politely. “Yet I am afraid I must decline.” She placed his hand flat on the table and took a deliberate step back. “For I already have a husband.”
Rawn released his arrow. It flew and pierced Varden’s hand, pinning him to the table.
His scream filled the dining room. With a wave of Eldred’s hand, the doors slammed shut. The lords jumped out of their chairs, and Karheim’s guards immediately drew their weapons. Conjuring his sword, Raiden rushed to his mother’s side.
“Get this out of me!” Varden yelled at his men. He braced his other hand on the table and Rawn shot a second arrow, pinning that one, too. Varden could only scream and helplessly thrash.
The fifty Norrlen guards that had secretly positioned themselves on the second landing drew their bows and aimed at their guests. Karheim Guards froze with their hands on their hilts and the lords halted mid-step for the door.
Everyone fell still.
Grabbing hold of the velvet curtain framing the alcove, Rawn slid down and landed lightly below. All eyes fixed on him as he strode through the quiet room. None dared to move. At his nod, Raiden moved Aerina back to join Eldred.
Rawn’s cloak dragged through the blood leaking on the floor as he took a seat beside Varden. “Lord Karheim,” he greeted.
Sweat beaded on Varden’s pallid complexion and his throat bobbed. “Lord Norrlen…”
“I have been given many noteworthy reports regarding your endeavors with my family as of late. Certainly unfortunate, for such a thing cannot be left unaddressed.”
“N-noteworthy?”
“Perhaps I need to remind you. First,” Rawn took hold of the left arrow. “You accosted my home.” He wrenched it out. Varden bit back a cry, squirming against the table. “Then you struck my son.” He tore free the right arrow, and Varden fell back into the chair with a gasping whimper. “What punishment should I dispense for attempting to abduct my wife? The last time she was taken from me, well, there is a reason I earned my name.”
Varden’s wide eyes glanced down at Rawn’s bloodied cloak.
“You dare to threaten him?” the head of Karheim’s guards shouted in indignation. “He is the heir of Erendor!”
“And you stand in the presence of the Princess of Greenwood, sister to your king. He who has given me leave to resolve this matter,” Rawn replied idly. “Halder.”
“Yes, Your Grace?” Halder replied from the landing across from him.
“Should he open his mouth again, shoot him.”
“Gladly.” Halder aimed his bow at the startled guard.
Rawn returned his attention to Varden. “I am a sensible man, but I would sooner kill you simply for laying your hands on my pride.”
“For-forgive me, Lord Norrlen,” he stuttered, his throat bobbing. “I mean, Your Grace. I assumed she was—If I had known—I would never—Please forgive me. I never wished to offend you.”
Rawn narrowed his eyes. “No, you wished for something that was not yours to covet.”
“Could I not petition for your great mercy? I give you my sworn oath. I will never be so bold as to disrespect you or your House again.”
“So it is sworn before the God of Urn and the souls present here today.” He looked to the lords. “Who should state witness?”
“I,” every elf in the room replied in unison.
Rawn stood. “Be glad of my mercy, Lord Karheim. For I will not spare you a second time.” He leaned down, bringing them eye to eye, and he said ever so calmly, “Should you ever step foot on my land again, I will bury you where you stand.”
Varden shrunk back.
“Do we have an understanding?”
“Y-yes, Your Grace.”
