Kingdom's Darkness (Gemstone Royals Book 2)

by Kelly A. Purcell

  Nyla sighed; he could see in her eyes that she was relenting. She had proven to him time and time again that she trusted his leadership, something he knew Ben coveted.

  “What do you want us to do?”

  “We report it to the commander.”

  ✽✽✽

  “Is anyone out there?” Deswald called, keeping his voice low as he held out a small torch. Cautiously, he kept his shield covering the side of his body facing the dark forest.

  He was slowly approaching the spot where he had seen the light signal from the tower. Joining him on his “fool’s errand” as the commander termed it, were the uninjured members of his cohort along with one antsy archer who was too riled up to sleep. Everyone else thought he was crazy to go out after what they had endured. Deswald felt anxious knowing that the arrow happy lad was somewhere nearby eager for a target, he did not respect Deswald and Deswald did not trust him. But Ben was not able and it was not tactically wise to attempt such a risky task without an archer. He could feel Nyla’s presence to the side of him and knew that Cordwall and Pike were flanking the position from the other end.

  “We are from Aldor, we mean you no harm,” he said again.

  As they drew nearer, Deswald heard the faint sound of sniffling, the smell of a recently doused flame filled the cool night air.

  “We want to help, it isn’t safe out here,” he said again, as he signalled Nyla to draw closer. With her weapons drawn, she would be his first line of offense should their targets turn out to be hostile.

  He waved his torch and the light uncovered a strip of colourful cloth. When he turned the torch back in that direction, a frightened whimper broke through the silence.

  “Please here,” a voice cried.

  Deswald’s eyes widened. Stooping behind some shrubbery looking right at him with frightful eyes was a woman. She was dressed in a foreign leather outfit, but that was not what drew fearful surprise from Deswald. Wrapped around her, almost protectively, with its head beneath her petite hand, was the most formidable looking creature he had ever laid eyes on.

  “Is that a…” Nyla’s voice trailed off in awe.

  “Dragon,” he finished in disbelief.

  He heard Nyla’s intake of breath behind him.

  “She’s Tyattaran,” Deswald said, taking in her brown skin, shinny jet black hair and small frame.

  “Please do not harm me,” she whispered and he could make out the tell-tale fang-like canines that characterized her people.

  Deswald’s eyes went to her hand, which was tightly gripping a dagger in fear to her side.

  “It’s alright,” he said, relieved that the woman spoke their language, “we did not come here with that intention. We saw your beacon.”

  She exhaled shakily and a fresh flow of tears drenched her cheeks, “it was Ike,” she said, touching the still dragon’s head affectionately.

  “He is exhausted, but he used the last of his strength to signal whoever was in that village.”

  “Guys!” Cordwall shouted, sounding further into the forest than he was supposed to be.

  “You need to see this!”

  Deswald turned to Nyla, “go, I’ll stay with her,” he commanded, with a curt nod, she ran off.

  Deswald stooped down in front of the woman, still keeping a safe distance from the creature, it’s scaly armor-like skin seeming to reflect the moonlight.

  “Are you injured?”

  “My ankle, I think it might have broken when we fell.”

  “Please can I?”

  As if sensing his distrust of her loved dragon, the strange woman eased herself forward away from it and towards Deswald, wincing at her sudden movement.

  He bent to check her ankle and found it swollen and bruised, “might be a sprain,” he said.

  “You are Aldorian?” she asked in disbelief.

  He looked up to find her staring at the Ma’jion crest on his shield. He smiled, “I know I do not look like any Aldorian you have met.”

  “I have met very few,” she replied.

  “You are safe with us miss…”

  “Eylisia,” she replied quickly.

  “I am Deswald, Eylisia. Do you remember what happened?”

  She shook her head, “we were attacked, never seen anything like it. They shot us down like our dragons were mere birds.”

  Without asking, Deswald knew that she must have been attacked by those creatures too.

  “We? Who else is with you?”

  “Just me,” she replied sadly, “there was a coup, the king and all his generals were forced to flee… those who survived. Nyard the crown prince was killed and his other brothers captured, surely it won’t be long before Prince Haydward executes them. I was sent to get help.”

  Deswald frowned, his mind conjuring images of a certain smug visitor to their kingdom not too long ago.

  “So Haydward is responsible for all this,” he said.

  “You know him?”

  “Yes,” Deswald replied.

  “We never knew he wanted the throne.”

  “Say no more. We must get you out of here. I know our king would be pleased to have you.”

  He reached his arm around her and lifted her to her feet, “keep your weight off your hurt ankle.”

  “Des.”

  He looked up to find Nyla looking at them, “we’ve got one of them.”

  “Them?”

  Nyla nodded, “the creatures… it’s dead though. Someone took it down with an arrow,” she glanced at Elysia.

  Excitement surged in Deswald, “it’s an opportunity to know our enemy. Let us not linger, tell the others, we’re taking the body back to camp. You run ahead and tell the commander.”

  As Nyla ran off again, Deswald looked down at the woman he held upright, “you will be okay Eylisia. We’re taking you back with us. I’m sorry we can’t carry your dragon.”

  She nodded, “that’s okay. Once he rests, he will be come find me. He can take care of himself.”

  In response, the scaly beast exhaled deeply and shook its body, and its large frame blended into the shadows of the night, as if it had turned off the moon’s reflection on its body. Deswald smirked, now that was cool, he thought.

  Chapter 8

  “Isn’t it beautiful!” Feather shouted, throwing her arms out and spinning around in the center of Stone Vale square.

  Jahreed grinned, “aye it is.”

  It turned out that his father had no intention of participating in this years’ festival, but his brothers had planned in advance to attend the celebration anyway. So, it worked out well for Jahreed; he did not have to help slaughter any sheep and his brothers were so knee deep in their celebrations that they did not care what he did with his time. And as far as their parents were concerned, they were all bonding. With his brothers up and about enjoying themselves, whatever that meant, Jahreed spent time with Feather and her family.

  He was helping set up her father’s stall in the midst of the market square chaos. Feather’s father had no sons so he welcomed Jahreed’s help and company. After being in the presence of six women regularly it must have been a pleasant change.

  Although Jahreed had agreed with Feather, that Stone Vale was indeed aesthetically pleasing, it lacked the warmth and friendliness of the Northerners.

  “Hey I have an idea,” Feather said, when Jahreed had finished tying off the ropes for the stall.

  “What is it?”

  “Let us go take a look around.”

  “Oh, not yet. I want to help your father finish set up.”

  Feather sighed, “fine, suit yourself. Father I am going exploring, will be back shortly.”

  She turned and skipped through the square, leaving Jahreed wearing a bemused smirk as he shook his head. He turned back to the stall and started carrying crates of fruit from the cart to load onto trays for the stall. As much as he wanted to spend time with Feather, he did not want to use his free time frolicking around the city when he had more important matters to attend t
o. As soon as he was done, he knew that he was going off in search of King’s court, with or without Feather.

  ✽✽✽

  Topaz loved to roam the streets of the Royal city during the season of harvest, it was always so alive and colorful with all the fruits and vegetables of the season laid out for purchase in the farmers' stalls. Farmers travelled from every territory to come to celebrate at the harvest festival, bringing with them the best of their produce for the Priest’s blessing.

  She had pulled her twisted hair into one single braid, now trailing down her back. She always dressed simply for these little walks of hers, with a worn-out shawl pulled over her hair. Even in a kingdom as peaceful and law abiding as Aldor, it was not a good idea for a princess to walk the streets alone. She smirked as she thought about the guard her father had once assigned to her. She could have never evaded Nyla, so they had come to an agreement that allowed them both to be comfortable. Nyla had become a close friend in her brief time as Topaz’s guard, she had taught her many things in relation to combat, and how to be even more stealthy than she already was. Topaz always enjoyed her alone time. There were things she never wanted to share with anyone else, and now that Nyla was off on Quest, she had a lot more of that.

  “Excuse me, do you know the way to King’s court?”

  She turned around in the crowded street just then to see a lost looking young man being ignored by a passerby. He looked out of place, with his wide eyes searching about him, dressed in a goat skin tunic, patched trousers and knee-high boots. She stifled a giggle at the sight of his curled toe boots. She had not seen one of those in ages. She lifted her amused gaze from his shoes and found herself looking directly into his eyes. With a confused frown, he looked down at his shoes and back up at her again.

  She felt horrible that he had caught her staring and giggling at his appearance like one of those materialistic women she disliked. His look of discomfort made her feel even more uncomfortable. With a sigh of shame, she stepped toward him.

  “Hello,” she greeted, forcing a polite smile to which her face was unaccustomed.

  The young man was still looking at her with confusion in his eyes. Finally, he bowed and nodded.

  “I could not help but overhear that you were looking for King’s court.”

  He nodded and he seemed to relax, “Aye...I am.”

  Topaz smiled, her eyes bright with intrigue, “you are not from around here, are you?”

  He shook his head, “Just here for the festival.”

  “You are a farmer?”

  He shrugged, “something like that. Are you… from here?” he asked awkwardly.

  Topaz nodded, realizing that this young man had no idea who she was, “something like that,” she replied.

  He chuckled, “I look the part I guess,” he said, extending his arms and looking down at his shoes.

  “Very much. I was admiring your stylish shoes. They do not make them like that anymore.”

  He grinned, and his face transformed from just good looking to gorgeous. Topaz felt an unfamiliar blush rise to her cheeks at her thoughts.

  “Well I am sorry but I only brought one pair. In the North we have them in abundance, maybe next time I visit I will bring you one.”

  Topaz laughed. They stood in the middle of the vendors’ market, grinning at each other.

  “What matters is that this one pair is enough to get you to your destination. Thanks for the offer though.”

  He frowned, “my destination?”

  “King’s court?”

  He covered his face with a scarred hand and shook his head “Aye of course. That is where I am looking to go.”

  Topaz drew closer to him and placed a hand on his shoulder as she directed his gaze in the direction of the castle. Topaz felt shorter than usual standing next to his slender lengthy frame.

  “It’s right over there. See those twin peaks over there?”

  He nodded, and looked down at her expectantly. He had the kindest brown eyes she had ever seen. She felt like if she looked long enough, she could fully know him even as they stood together in the street.

  “That is the palace. Just go in that direction, when they become clearer and larger in your eyes, the court should not be very far from view.”

  He smiled, “Oh thank you,” he said, “you are the nicest person I have met from here since I have arrived.”

  “Then you must not have been here very long.”

  “Just today,” he replied, holding her gaze.

  She had never had anyone look her so boldly in the eyes before. As a princess people were always avoiding her eyes, although she was told that might be mostly because of her unpleasant countenance rather than respect for her stature. She stepped back and nodded politely as the young man extended his hand.

  “I am Jahreed, from the North.”

  Topaz looked down at his extended hand, his nails were neatly trimmed and cleaner than you would expect of a farmer. She took his offered hand and shook it.

  “T…Tawnee,” she replied, wincing at her choice of name.

  “Thanks again Tawnee,” he said gleefully, without a hint of doubt in what she had shared with him.

  She watched as he walked in the direction of her home with a gleeful bouncy walk that was fun to watch. Shaking her head, she turned and continued her walk through the market.

  "Miss Cleo!" she called, slipping beside the robust woman just in time to catch the basket that had toppled out of her crowded arms.

  She had noticed the old woman just as she had turned away from the stranger and had fought the urge to hide from her. She knew Miss Cleo would send her back to the palace and would greatly frown on her being out on her own at such a time.

  "Oh, why thank you young one," the woman crooned, turning to face the mischievous princess.

  Miss Cleo gasped, "Prin... young lady!" she exclaimed, turning away from the boisterous crowd that was gathering around the stall.

  "You are off gallivanting again," she pouted, handing Topaz another basket.

  Topaz grinned, "well you know me."

  "Yes, always looking for trouble. This is no time for you to be out on your own. There are all kinds of people here now.”

  “As far as anyone is concerned, I am just shopping for fruits like everyone else.”

  “Well you are coming on back with me you know."

  Topaz rolled her eyes, “Oh I know it.”

  They carried the baskets back to Miss Cleo’s wagon and loaded the goods onto it.

  "So, what are we making today?" Topaz asked, hiking up onto the wagon next to the chubby cheeked palace baker.

  The woman grinned, "your father's favorite, corn cakes," she replied, nudging her old faithful steeds into motion.

  "Oooh yum!" Topaz exclaimed, beaming up at the cheery old lady.

  The woman chuckled, "now there is that rare and beautiful smile!"

  "Only for your corn cakes Miss Cleo," she replied.

  "Aye," said the old baker, “I am trying to cheer the king and the princess up. Such sad news to hear that the soldiers got delayed in their returning. I know a lot of the parents are at King’s court today demanding answers.”

  Topaz shrugged, “Well Quests are dangerous. They all knew what their children signed up for.”

  Miss Cleo was shaking her head, “I would never understand it. I don’t know why young men would put themselves in such useless danger.”

  Topaz shrugged, “Sometimes you have to take risks to get what you want. Most questors do it because they want to play a greater role in Royal Army, and they’re not all girls you know. My father respects them for that and they are often rewarded for their bravery with the coveted knighthood. But of course, they cannot expect my father to foresee everything.”

  “You are right little one,” the old woman said, swaying along with the rhythm of her old horses as they made their way toward the palace.

  “But that does not make a parent worry any less.”

  ✽✽✽

>   “Drafer! You are here good man.”

  The king eyes were dancing at the sight of the old Knight. He was now one of the advisors for the North, in service of his daughter Pearl and her husband Reeve. But before that he had served as an Aldorian knight and then had turned his attention towards scholarship.

  Drafer took the king’s offered hand and shook it firmly, “how could I not? It sounded urgent. Even more when you asked to meet you at the Barracks.”

  “It is,” the king replied as he guided him toward the military infirmary.

  “But I made sure to ask you here only if you were ready. I was so sorry to hear about the loss of your wife.”

  Drafer nodded, “yes it was indeed a hard time. But I have had time to come to terms with the realities of life. It is better that I turn my attentions elsewhere. How may I be of service my king?”

  The king sighed, “our Questers have not returned. The collection Caravan we sent to get them was attacked and two of our men killed. Jasper and some of the knights went out to investigate.”

  “Attacked by who?”

  “That is why I need you.”

  Drafer frowned. King Kalgary pointed to one of the closed doors in the infirmary.

  “One man managed to survive the attack, we managed to get him talking again and had one of our best interrogators walk him through a replay of it. He described what he had seen as one of our finest artists captured it. When we showed it to him to confirm, the sight of the creature rendered him speechless again. You may see him but he is not very useful right now.”

  Drafer walked to the door and gently pushed it open, he peered in at a man curled into a ball on the narrow bed whimpering like a child. Drafer shook his head and stepped back out, closing the door.

  “This one has been broken. What can I possibly do to help you?”

  “This way,” the king replied, “You are an expert on people groups of Saharia, you have studied a variety of races and tribes extensively. I am hoping that you could help us identify this new enemy.”

  The king led Drafer to one of the meeting rooms and ordered that they bring in the painting. Shortly afterward, two uniformed men marched in holding a carefully wrapped canvas. They mounted it on a wooden easel, bowed and exited the room.