The Power to See

by Jennifer Anne Davis

  Greenwood Island was divided into seven regions, each overseen by a governor, appointed by the king, based on loyalty. The king reigned over it all. The kingdom was restructured this way shortly after the takeover seventeen years ago.

  “How long do you plan on staying here?” Darmik asked, jogging to catch up to his brother.

  Lennek shrugged his shoulders. “Until I’m bored.”

  “I didn’t realize you and Lord Filmar were close,” Darmik said. “Where is he anyway?” Lord Filmar was an older gentleman known for being levelheaded and set in his ways—quite the opposite of Lennek.

  Lennek rolled his eyes and led Darmik into a quaint sitting room. There were three settees and a low table in the center. Books lined one wall, and portraits of the governor and his family filled another.

  “I don’t know, nor do I care,” Lennek smirked. “We’re not friends by any means. I simply wanted a vacation, and this is the furthest place from Father’s castle.”

  “Ah,” Darmik said. Then King Barjon and Lennek had had a falling out. Darmik’s worry and panic had been for nothing.

  Lennek spun and faced Darmik, cocking his head. “Did Father send you?” he questioned.

  “No. I was passing nearby when word came that you were here. I thought I’d stop in and see you. That’s all,” Darmik said, trying to placate his brother. He wasn’t about to admit that the only reason he was here was to discover what his brother was really up to.

  Lennek laughed. “You have got to be kidding. You, on a break? I don’t believe it.” He flopped down on the settee. “Everything you do has a purpose,” he snapped. “You’re here because you don’t trust me.”

  “Of course I don’t,” Darmik murmured.

  “You may not trust me, but you must obey me. And I want you gone tomorrow.” Lennek waved his hand in the air. “This is supposed to be a vacation, and there’s no way I can have any fun with you around.” His eyes darkened, and he unleashed the full force of his gaze on Darmik. “You ruin everything you touch,” he spat.

  Moving to the window, Darmik gripped the wooden frame, keeping his temper in check. There were probably servants lurking in the corridors. The window overlooked the governor’s pasture to the north of the property. Several horses roamed the land. Taking a deep breath, Darmik said, “I’m going hunting. Want to come?”

  Lennek snorted. “Most definitely not.”

  Good, Darmik thought. He didn’t really want to spend any time with his brother, and he needed to relax before his temper flared, and he pummeled Lennek to the floor.

  Laughter filled the hallway, and several young ladies walked by. They were bedecked head to toe in the latest court fashion, but Darmik didn’t recognize any of them. They had to be the local nobles. Darmik raised his eyebrows. “Friends of yours?” he asked.

  Standing, Lennek straightened his tunic and smiled. “Every girl’s a friend of mine. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some entertainment planned. And you’re not invited.” He strolled out of the room with a smirk plastered on his face.

  Darmik had been so sure Lennek was up to something, but this was nothing more than a pity party, filled with drinking and girls. And all because Father had yelled at him. Typical. Darmik had no desire to sit in the castle all day, listening to Lennek’s indiscretions. He would leave tomorrow. There was nothing to discover here. Lennek wasn’t up to some devious political maneuvering. No, he was too wrapped up in his own personal satisfaction. Darmik needed to stop being so paranoid.

  After changing into his hunting gear, Darmik headed west on foot into the woods. It was so rare he was ever alone that he wanted to take advantage of the opportunity. He traveled several miles until he was in safe hunting territory.

  The trees were dense, barely a few feet apart. Several boulders were scattered near the bottom of a small rise, moss covering them. Darmik found a small space between two and crouched down, waiting. The forest animals were still. Darmik nocked an arrow and raised his bow, steadying it.

  A twig snapped and something raced through the forest, dodging trees. Darmik was about to release the arrow when he realized it wasn’t an animal that bolted through the trees like lightning. Instead, blonde hair flew, and a gray dress flashed like a beacon against the moss-covered trunks and green leaves.

  Then she was gone. Darmik scanned the surrounding area, looking for who, or what, pursued her. All was quiet.

  Driven by a surge of intrigue, Darmik took off after her, keeping his bow in hand. She ran fast, but he was easily able to follow her blatant trail of broken twigs until it suddenly ended.

  Skidding to a halt, Darmik’s right foot slid to the edge of the cliff, sending a shower of leaves raining over the side. He backed away and looked down. A dark river flowed twenty-five feet below. There was no sign of the girl. He put the arrow in his quiver and secured the bow to his back.

  Searching along the edge, Darmik found a steep, dirt trail leading down the hill. The soil was rich and soft, forcing him to focus on his footing. Several times Darmik slid, but caught himself. When he finally reached the bottom, he found the girl lying on the bank next to the water, soaking wet. He ran over and knelt down beside her to see if she was hurt. Her dress looked homemade, indicating she was from the lower class.

  The girl’s eyes flew open. They were brilliant like the sea. Her hair was the color of hay, only silky instead of stiff and rough. Darmik wanted to touch it, just to be sure. The girl’s wet, gray dress clung to her body, her bosom heaving up and down from running. Darmik had seen blue eyes and blonde hair before, but that was in Emperion. He couldn’t help but stare.

  “Who are you?” she demanded. Her eyes darted to the bow and arrows on his back.

  How could she not know who he was? Then Darmik remembered he was wearing plain, brown clothing that covered his arms and neck, instead of his blue tunic that exposed his royal markings.

  “Are you well?” he countered.

  Her face lit up as she smiled, clearly unharmed. “Of course I am. Why do you ask?” She raised her eyebrows, waiting for his response.

  “It’s just that—I saw you go off the edge. Did you fall?” Darmik asked. She was drenched, but there was no way a girl would voluntarily jump, especially from so high up. And she couldn’t have climbed down that fast.

  “Fall?” She laughed, the sound harsh. “No, I dove.” She gave Darmik a confident look that implied it should’ve been obvious. Her voice was clear, speech articulate, surprising him.

  Darmik stared at her. Had she been trying to kill herself?

  “For fun,” she clarified. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to be left alone.”

  Since the king forbade travel between the seven regions in the kingdom, all citizens were required to be tattooed at birth with their region’s emblem. Darmik glanced down at her arms. On her left wrist, she bore the black tattoo of Jarko—a curved stalk of wheat with a sword down the center. On her right wrist, she wore her brown, leather identification band, but Darmik couldn’t read it from this angle.

  “Let me see your band,” he demanded.

  The girl bit her bottom lip, hesitating. She had no choice in the matter. When a man, no matter who that man was, asked to see a female’s band, she had to adhere to his command.

  She lifted her right arm, holding it suspended in the air. Darmik took hold of her hand with care. As he read the information, his thumb gently traced the edge of the leather bracelet.

  “Tabitha, seventeen years old, niece of Kar and Maya, not yet married or engaged.”

  Tabitha jerked her hand free.

  Uncertain what to say, Darmik focused on the top of the cliff. The jump was difficult. Why, he wondered, would anyone attempt it? Several trees lined the riverbank, and it appeared there was only a five-foot section of the cliff from which to jump safely. The water flowed smoothly, indicating no rocks hidden below the surface. Still, it was too dangerous to attempt. Darmik looked back to the girl. Little drops of water ran down her face.

  “Is
there something I can do for you?” she asked, no longer amused.

  Darmik tore his eyes away from her and scanned the surrounding area. “No, I was out hunting when I saw you disappear over the cliff.” He wasn’t used to explaining himself. “Can I escort you somewhere?” He was reluctant to leave her alone in a forest full of wild animals. At least, that’s what he told himself. He didn’t want to acknowledge it was something else—that she was unlike anyone he had ever met before.

  Tabitha rose abruptly. Her dress was plastered around her legs, her hair muddy from lying on the riverbank. Darmik stood and offered her his hand for support. Instead, she crossed her arms. The girl was taller than he realized, coming up to his chin.

  “I can take care of myself.” Her face, although beautiful, was pinched with worry, and her eyes were glassy and red. He’d been so overwhelmed with how blue her eyes were that he’d failed to notice she’d been crying. “I don’t need a man.” The girl’s hands balled into fists.

  “Prince Darmik!” A shout rang from above. Before he had left, Darmik told Lennek’s guard to leave him alone. The only way they would be in the forest was if they were accompanying Lennek. And there was no way Lennek could see this girl.

  Staring at him fiercely, she asked, “Prince? That makes the king your father.” Darmik nodded. “Are you the commander of the King’s Army?” It sounded more like an accusation than a question, and she didn’t kneel as protocol demanded. Her eyes focused on his neck, probably trying to see his royal tattoos—but they were covered by the tunic.

  Darmik felt like a hunter come upon a new animal that he didn’t know what to do with. Friend or foe? Would the animal attack or run away?

  “Yes, and my older brother, Prince Lennek, draws near,” Darmik warned. “I strongly suggest you leave—now.”

  She studied him for a moment, like she was trying to decide if she could trust him. “The Crown Prince?” she asked.

  Darmik nodded. There was a flicker of fear across her face, and she took a step back, away from him. Then she flashed him a bright smile and took off running, although a little slower this time, hindered by the heavy, wet dress.

  Rema

  Rema’s side cramped from running, but she couldn’t stop. If the princes were in the forest, then soldiers were nearby, and Aunt Maya had warned Rema enough times to steer clear of the army. If only Rema had ridden Snow, but she thought the walk would be good after her aunt and uncle broke the news about her upcoming marriage to Bren. Now she was stuck jogging in a bulky, wet dress—her mind no clearer than when she set out.

  Stumbling around the back of the barn, Rema bent over, breathing hard.

  “There you are,” Aunt Maya said, holding a bucket of water. Her eyebrows rose in disbelief as she scanned Rema from head to toe.

  Rema had hoped to make it inside before anyone saw her.

  “Why are you all wet?”

  “I saw a rock at the edge of the river with bands of color and a crystal at one end. I reached for it and slipped, falling into the water. But I’m fine.” She hated to lie, but if her aunt and uncle discovered that most of her forest adventures included a dive from a cliff, she’d never be allowed to go again—at least not alone.

  Jumping into the Somer River was something Rema had been doing since she was eight years old. Whenever she felt caged or trapped, she went to her special place deep inside the woods. Rema still remembered the first time she did it. Standing at the cliff, gazing down, she had no idea if the water was deep enough, or even if the current was too strong for her to handle. All Rema could focus on was the fact that her aunt and uncle wouldn’t let her go into town or attend the weekly market, and she desperately wanted to do something they wouldn’t approve of. So Rema jumped, oblivious to the fact that she could get hurt or die.

  The thrill of falling stole her breath away. For those couple of seconds, all her worries vanished, and there was nothing except the freedom of flying through the air. When Rema hit the water for that first time, a brief moment of panic arose as she frantically kicked and broke the surface, gasping for a breath, but that didn’t stop her from doing it again. Through the years, Rema had jumped countless times—each still as breathtaking and exciting as the first.

  “You fell?” Aunt Maya asked. Rema nodded. “That must have been some fall. You better get inside and change your dress before Bren and his family arrives. Put on something presentable. We can’t afford to lose this match.” Aunt Maya spun and headed toward the back door of the house, water sloshing over the side of the bucket she carried.

  “I still don’t understand why I have to marry Bren,” Rema called after her. Bren was her only friend. A marriage to him would be awkward. She’d never even looked at him or thought of him as a possible husband.

  “Not this again,” Aunt Maya’s voice broke. She stopped walking, but kept her back to Rema. “Please go inside and change.”

  “I’m not ready to get married,” Rema admitted.

  Aunt Maya shook her head and left without another word.

  Rema kicked the side of the barn. Usually diving into the Somer River put her mind to rest. But not today.

  Bren’s family owned the farm next to their land. Rema couldn’t imagine being a farmer’s wife. She longed for the opportunity to see Greenwood Island, but that would never happen since the king restricted all travel outside of one’s region. Rema hadn’t even been to any other areas in Jarko besides her small town.

  And now, she was likely to go nowhere.

  Rema supposed she saw a little of the outside world today when she ran into Prince Darmik. Her cheeks warmed just thinking about him. He wasn’t what she expected. He seemed too young to command an entire army. From her studies, she knew that he was nineteen, but until today, she pictured him in his thirties or forties with long, gray hair, and a stiff, gray beard. How wrong she had been.

  Like everyone else on the island, he had black hair and brown eyes. His hair was cut just above his shoulders, and his voice was kind. She hadn’t expected that. Everyone knew the king was evil and his heir, Prince Lennek, was only too willing to follow in his father’s footsteps. But Darmik gave the impression that he was different. He had warned her Prince Lennek was coming and afforded her the opportunity to slip away unnoticed. However, the army was known for being ruthless, and Darmik did control the army. So why did he help her?

  Rema shook her head, trying to clear it. She couldn’t afford to think of Prince Darmik that way. She needed to get inside before Bren’s family arrived to finalize the dowry and sign the marriage contract to a wedding that would most likely take place next month.

  Just like one of her uncle’s horses, she was to be bought and sold.

  ****

  “Why do you want to marry me, Bren?” Rema stopped walking and scrutinized his eyes, searching for the answer.

  Bren laughed. They had traveled about a half-mile into the woods for some privacy from their families, who were still inside finalizing the wedding contract.

  “We all have to marry, Rema. The king demands it. Why not marry a friend?” He tore a leaf from the low-hanging branch of a tree and twirled it between his fingers.

  But Bren had other friends. He went to the market in town, and he knew most of the people that lived in the area.

  “Are you happy to be taking over for your father?” Rema asked.

  “I’ve been planning on it my entire life. It’s what’s expected.” Throwing the leaf on the ground, he examined her, like he was trying to decipher what she was really getting at.

  “So, no then,” she mumbled.

  “If I could do anything, would I be a farmer? Is that what you’re asking?” His deep voice sounded loud in the quiet forest.

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t know,” he answered. “But I have to be realistic, Rema. It’s a good holding. I’ll make enough money to take care of you. We’ll have a home to live in. All I need is someone to share my life with.” Bren appeared agitated. Rema couldn’t help but smile
at the way his lip protruded, his hands clenched in fists resting on his hips, and eyebrows bent inward. He was a handsome man with his black hair and dark eyes. Bren had wide shoulders and strong muscles from working on the farm. Rema knew other girls were attracted to him, but it wasn’t like that between the two of them.

  Not wanting to upset her husband-to-be, Rema reached out and stroked his arm until his shoulders relaxed and the tense look on his face disappeared. “But why me?” she whispered.

  He gently took both her hands in his. “Because you’re my friend. And you’re beautiful, a hard worker, and strong. You’ll do well on the farm.”

  Bren’s thumb traced Rema’s band, and she recalled Prince Darmik. He had held her hand delicately, his fingers swirling softly over the marks on her band. Rema shivered. Bren’s hands, by comparison, were warm and sweaty.

  Bren stared at her, but she had nothing to say that wouldn’t irritate him and cause a debate between the two of them. Normally that was something she wouldn’t mind doing, but not with both of their families in the house awaiting their return. Instead, she said, “We better get back.” Rema tugged her hands from his and walked toward the house. Bren silently followed.

  “Don’t you want to marry me?” he asked.

  She stiffened but kept walking so he wouldn’t see her face.

  “It isn’t that,” she stammered. What could she say that wouldn’t hurt his feelings, and yet, still allow her to be honest? “It’s just that...I hadn’t expected to marry so soon. There are some things I want to do before I tie myself to another person.”

  That was hard for her to admit out loud. She continued walking without glancing back.

  As a child, she had rarely left the house. Aunt Maya educated Rema at home, and all of her free time was spent helping with the horses. The older she got, the more Rema’s aunt and uncle allowed her brief moments of solitude in the forest, but never in town and never around other people. She always assumed that one day, when she was an adult, she would be able to do all the things she had dreamed about while growing up. It appeared that time would never come.