Kingdom's Darkness (Gemstone Royals Book 2)

by Kelly A. Purcell

  “You’re telling me that that knife makes you inhumanely strong…” Ben gestured to the dagger in Deswald’s hand.

  “And fast,” Deswald added, “and fearless.”

  “But at the cost of your self control?”

  Deswald sighed, “it feels like… something is changing in me. Every time I use it, I feel further away from myself.”

  “Then why don’t you stop using it.”

  “I can’t. I… it’s like I can’t help myself. I am drawn to it. If I don’t tap into its power, I feel like I’m dying. Since I’ve gotten it, I’ve been getting these nightmares, recurring, dark… I can’t make sense of it. I was having one of those tonight and… I didn’t know myself when I woke up. I didn’t know what I was doing until you called my name.”

  He dropped his head into his hands, “I could’ve hurt you Ben. I could’ve killed you.”

  Ben was shaking his head, “But you didn’t. We have to find a way to fix it.”

  Deswald lifted the knife and looked at the marking on it, “Drafer seemed to know something about it.”

  “Then let’s go to him. He might know how to fix it. If its dark magic the light can drive it out.”

  Suddenly Deswald straightened up, his eyes going to the far end of the yard, narrowing in suspicion.

  “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what?”

  Deswald stood up, “There’s someone out there.”

  Ben joined him in standing, “the only people out in the forest this hour are thieves and fugitives.”

  Deswald shook his head sharply as if trying to shake off a sudden chill.

  “No… it’s something dark.”

  Ben didn’t need any more convincing, “Let me get us swords and we’ll check it out.”

  As Ben turned around Deswald launched towards the wall. He heard his friend shout out after him, but he kept going. When he was near the edge of the yard, he took a powerful leap and felt himself spring into the air with a superhuman strength that thrilled him. He landed on top the ledge and turned back to look at a shocked Ben, then dropped lightly onto the other side.

  Deswald landed in a crouch and withdrew his dagger. He was still bare feet and still dressed in his loose sleeping trousers that were too long and a loose flannel shirt. In the early hours of the morning like this, he expected to be cold dressed as he was, instead he was quite comfortable. Was this another gift of the dagger? His senses were heightened, it was almost like he could feel the heart beat of Saharia beneath his feet. He could sense a dark presence, it was close, he could tell.

  Instantly something whistled past his ear and he shifted just in time to see the glimmer of a fast-moving blade. By the time he regained his footing, the blade was upon him again, moving quickly, even for him. He managed to successfully dodge each assault. Shifting left, then right, with a well-timed duck, all while trying to get a closer look at his assailant. The person was heavily cloaked, hooded, but skilled. His speed matched Deswald’s.

  Finally, Deswald saw an opening. He bent his knees, with his dagger pointing down, towards his wrist gripped in an extended arm, his other arm was held out above his head for balance. When he charged forward, he managed to slice the front of his attacker’s tunic. The man growled and turned his sword down towards Deswald’s armed hand. But Deswald was faster, he launched upward and captured the man’s arm, locking it in a vice grip until he relinquished his blade.

  He shoved the man back and twirled, launching two bare footed kicks at his head then chest. His attacker stumbled backward and fell. But to Deswald’s surprise the man did not fight to get up, instead he started to chuckle.

  “Here we are again.”

  Deswald frowned, the voice was almost distorted with cruelty but he recognized it. “Serin?”

  The man’s chuckle turned into unrestrained laughter, his shoulder shaking beneath his cloak.

  “So, you found me… how very much like you. Showing up in places you are least expected, thwarting the enemy’s plan like a good soldier,” Serin teased.

  He got up now and dusted off his gloved hands. Deswald’s grip tightened on his dagger.

  “But something’s different about you,” Serin said, he took a step forward, Deswald didn’t budge.

  Then Serin reached up and withdrew his hood, Deswald could not withhold his flinch.

  “What have they done to you?”

  “I don’t need your pity, King Haddin has made me better…” a slow conniving curve of blackened lips eased onto his face.

  “But you and I… we’re not much different now, are we?”

  His eyes fell on Deswald’s dagger, and he chuckled.

  “How pathetic. Your precious princess rejects you and you turn to the darkness… I always thought you were above it all.”

  “Ruby hasn’t rejected me,” Deswald growled, “I am not you.”

  Serin laughed, “I can’t believe it, you’re still in denial. She has done you the same thing she has done to me, yet here you are, fighting what you truly are. Deswald when will you learn. Aldor has nothing for you, just like it had nothing for me.”

  He extended a gloved hand, “join me, together we can bring the Stones down for what they have done to us.”

  Deswald frowned, “you don’t know what you’re talking about. I hold nothing against my king and his family.”

  Serin’s eyes narrowed then widened in realization, “oh no… you don’t know do you?”

  “Know what?” Deswald was barely restraining himself, he felt like he was holding onto the chains of a powerful beast.

  Serin’s grin did nothing to help his devilish face. Instead the dark cracks on his greying skin seemed to widen, gapping at Deswald as if mocking him on its own accord.

  “You truly are pathetic. Don’t you know that your beloved princess is betrothed to a Southern Duke. It’s the talk about the town. I thought it was an odd yet, politically intriguing match. There’s going to be a ball and everything.”

  Deswald felt the chain of his control snap and he launched towards Serin, who was still laughing. But instead of plunging his dagger into Serin’s chest as he had hoped to, Deswald stumbled forward through thin air and unto the cool ground.

  He turned around quickly, but there was no one around, instead an eerie hiss filled the air and he could hear Serin’s voice as if floating above the air and fading.

  “My apologies about your horse old friend…,” his evil cackle faded away, leaving Deswald panting and wide eyed on the ground.

  “Des?” he heard Ben call, sounding strained above the sound of shuffling feet as he tried to climb the wall.

  Deswald got up and looked around, then leapt up onto the wall, just above where Ben was struggling. He reached down and pulled him up. He sat down beside his panting friend, their feet dangling above the ground.

  “What’s the matter? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “Because I have,” he replied, “Serin’s here.”

  “Serin as in… wait, he’s here in Stone Vale.”

  Deswald nodded, “Haddin’s up to something. Did you know that… that Ruby is engaged?”

  Ben’s brows almost reached his hairline, “no way.”

  “Serin seems to think so.”

  “He’s a liar, he was just trying to get in your head.”

  “No,” Deswald replied, “I think he knows a bit more than us about what’s going on in that castle.”

  “Oh Des,” Ben said sympathetically.

  Deswald leapt down and started to walk away, “take me to my horse.”

  “Uhh, a little help please,” Ben said, but Deswald kept walking, preoccupied with the news that changed everything for him.

  “Deswald!”

  ✽✽✽

  Deswald should have noticed how quiet the barracks were, but his mind could only focus on Ryder. Deliberately, he pushed aside all thoughts of the girl he loved, just the idea that it could be true hurt too much. He was not ready to confirm its truth.

/>   He moved quickly across the grounds towards the stable where he had left Ryder. Once he was inside, he made his way to Ryder’s stall, only slowing down when he was a few steps from confirming whether Serin had truly hurt his beloved steed. Something felt wrong. Instinctively, his hand found his dagger where it was strapped to his belt and he took another step forward. He heard Ryder’s snort and yanked open the stall door. His eyes grew wide at the sight of his beautiful horse. He was lying on his side; the only sign of life was his laboured breathing. Deswald was at his horse’s side immediately, running his hand along his side to calm him.

  “I’m here boy,” he whispered, leaning forward to take a look at him.

  “What did he do to…” a small gasp escaped his lips as he caught sight of the extent of Serin’s cruelty.

  “No, no no,” he muttered, reaching forward to touch the bloody spot between his horse’s eyes where a rare gem was once embedded. He groaned in dismay, as his horse’s eyes turned to and fro in a panic of its own. They both knew Ryder wouldn’t survive without his gem.

  Deswald was shaking his head, reigning in an anger that he knew was pointless to unleash right now. He wanted Serin… alone. It was then that he heard the sound of running feet, he knew that sound anywhere. It was the rhythmic, steady pattern of soldiers.

  He stood up and looked around him, until his eyes fell on what appeared to be boots sticking out from beneath a hay pile. Frowning he yanked it to the side and almost melted when he saw that the boots were attached to a body. A cold lifeless one.

  He kneeled over the body of the man and immediately knew that this was one of his fellow soldiers. He still checked for a pulse and confirmed that the man must’ve been strangled. There was no blood, but a sure sign of a struggle.

  “He’s in here!” he heard someone shout and that’s when it hit him.

  “Serin you bastard!” he growled, just as the stall doors swung open and a wide-eyed junior guard stood looking at him.

  Deswald shot to his feet, “this is not what it looks like…”

  “Over here! He’s here!” the young man started shouting.

  With gritted teeth Deswald launched towards him. In that moment, he knew that Serin had set him up and given his history it would be easy to believe that he could do such a thing.

  He grabbed hold of the man’s shirt and lifted him up, the fear he saw in the young man’s eyes unnerved him. He was looking at him like he was a monster. Deswald roared in angry frustration and tossed the young man aside like he weighed nothing and turned to run. But the entrance was quickly blocked off by eager young soldiers with swords drawn. He knew that this all looked bad.

  He lifted his hands, “I don’t know what’s going on here. But I assure you I haven’t hurt anyone.”

  “Get him!” Someone shouted.

  The mini troupe bolted towards him. Deswald shook his head and planted his feet. He would have to defend himself, because he had made up his mind that he was not going to be captured today.

  He grabbed hold of a soldier’s arm and relieved him of his sword, putting distance between them with a kick. As the man landed in a hay pile nearby, he used his sword to block the downward motion of another man’s blade. The loud ping punctuated the air and sent a jolt of reality through Deswald. This was really happening.

  The other horses started to get rowdy around them, as Deswald fought them off one by one. Being careful to not wound or hurt them. He danced with the borrowed sword amidst them, resisting the urge to take out his dagger. He knew that if he did, he won’t be in control anymore and for sure they would have reason to mark him as the murderer they probably think he is now. He was no fool, but the way the men fought him, it wasn’t with the methodical indifference marked by duty but it was with the passion of a personal vendetta against him.

  He fought his way forward, until he saw a window to escape. Turning, he dove into a stall and leapt onto one of the horses. The horse bucked beneath him, tossing its head in displeasure at the weight of a man without a saddle. Deswald leaned forward and took a firm grip of its mane, then urged it forward. The spooked horse bolted out of the stall and towards the open door of the stable. Deswald rode hard, turning the horse in the direction of the gates. His heart pounding in his chest, beads of sweat poured down the sides of his face from his dishevelled hair. He knew that he must look a sight, probably confirming all that they thought about him right now. As he road, more men shot out after him but even in the flurry he was able to notice that there were other bodies strewn about the barrack grounds, close to the stables. He was not sure if this was Serin’s initial plan, but he knew that when he sent him after Ryder, he must have hoped that this would happen.

  “Yah!” Deswald shouted, urging the horse forward.

  An arrow whizzed by his ear and another lodged itself in his upper back. He cried out but didn’t let up his speed. To slow down now, would mean sure capture and he knew he had no defence.

  The strange horse was surprisingly quick, its powerful strides taking Deswald further away from the men who wished to capture him.

  “Come on boy,” his eyes fell on a closed gate to the side, which would open up to the horse training grounds. Beyond that was the woods, Deswald knew he would have a fighting chance if he could get there.

  He leaned forward and tightened his grip on the horse’s mane.

  “Hope you’re a jumper boy, or I’m done.”

  As they neared the gate, Deswald said a quick prayer and urged the horse to leap. To his surprise and relief, the horse reared up and leapt over the gate in one powerful jump. It landed steadily and continued onward. Bolting across the pasture towards the woods on the other side.

  “Good boy!”

  It would seem that he would live to clear his name another day.

  ✽✽✽

  Haddin burst into the dark, musky room at the very top of the palace, holding up his lavish robes least they should touch the filthy floor. The three eye sores of the kingdom, as he loved to refer to them, turned to face him, their sunken empty eyes relaying their surprise and pleasure.

  "My lord," one of them crooned, "why did you not summon us?"

  The prince turned up his nose in disgust as he eyed their surroundings, "as distasteful as being in your quarters is, it is much better than your grotesque faces darkening the beauty of my throne room."

  They grinned their fang like teeth at the insult and bowed in reverence. The prince rolled his eyes and stepped toward them.

  "What news have you?"

  The one whose name always slipped him spoke up, "The map, the dark rider sent to us is authentic. We believe that it will truly lead us to the location of your mother. But we need the key.”

  Haddin’s eyes widened,“This is wonderful news. We can begin making preparations to acquire the next piece. We must move quickly, we’ve managed to cripple some of Kalgary’s most powerful allies, but he is a resourceful man. Once my mother is free, together we can summon Maldeev and crush the kingdoms of Saharia. Aldor first. Tell me are they already shaking in their boots?”

  Odin, the one who would often grace his chambers, spoke up, "my lord you know we cannot see into the operations of the kingdom itself. However, we have received word that the king has increased security in all territories. And his daughter is to marry a Southern duke."

  Haddin looked thoughtful, "So he is afraid, he is threatened by us" slowly his frown became a mischievous smile that reached his cold eyes.

  "What would make the great and mighty king of Aldor take such precautions…"

  “Their light stones must be losing power!”

  The prince grinned, “that is correct, without finding their precious source of light and without the light stone miners, Aldor has nothing. The light shield is nothing now but an illusion, Aldor is ripe for the conquering!”

  "Then what is the plan your highness," came the raspy voice, with a rhythm of intrigue.

  The prince chuckled, "so far everything is happening just the way it sh
ould. Our best weapon is the element of confusion, we attack from the outside, while we stir them against each other from the inside,” he grinned maniacally, a faraway look in his icy blue eyes.

  The monsters laughed, their balding scaly heads jerking unflatteringly, "Yes my Lord, they will bow to you!" they exclaimed.

  "It is about time. And with my mother at my side all Saharia will soon follow.”

  He reached into his robe pocket and withdrew a carefully wrapped object. He handed it over to the creatures.

  “Be careful with this.”

  The creatures cried with glee as one of them unwrapped a shiny object and lifted it up. It was still wrapped in a piece of cloth like the creature dared not let his bony fingers touch it.

  “Oh, your majesty, you found it!”

  “The dark rider did.”

  “Dark rider did good master."

  "Yes, he did. And he will be handsomely rewarded," he laughed as if the very idea of reward Serin was utterly comedic.

  “This is the final piece we need to complete the anti-cloaking spell. Once we have that and the map is complete, we can begin the search for my mother. You must hurry and get this done, when my mother returns from her banishment, I want to hand her the best gift magic can buy.”

  “And what is that master?” the creatures crooned.

  “The kingdom of Aldor on a silver platter, the throne that was always meant to be hers.”

  “Oh yes, lovely gift master.”

  “Good now get to work!”

  "and SOdin?"

  "Yes master?"

  "Clean this filth up, evil does not have to smell like death," he sneered at them, "you three disgust me."

  With a dramatic toss of his silky gold hair he turned and marched towards the door.

  Chapter 25

  Topaz pulled the door open and slipped into the moonlit bed chamber, she rushed to her sister just as she was about to scream and clamped a hand over her mouth. Ruby's wide eyes looked up at her quizzically as she withdrew her hand and lowered her lantern onto the bedside table.