The Havenshire Resistance (Heirs to the Throne Book 2)

by Diane Rapp

  “This way, miss, you’re needed,” Bart muttered and led Lauryn inside the infirmary. She felt relieved to see Chella, who attended rows of patients.

  “I thought you were all dead!” Lauryn wrapped her arms around Chella’s neck.

  Chella’s gaze swept the room filled with cots. “I’m still among the living, but our tragedy is harsh. The barbarians kidnapped the youngest sisters and struck down the older ones without remorse. Sister Andrea’s poor heart couldn’t withstand the fright.”

  Lauryn whispered, “I’ll pray for her soul.

  Chella nodded. “We’ll both pray…but later…right now the living need our help to survive.”

  Lauryn worked with Chella late into the night. They healed the injured, sisters and farmers who defended the sanctuary armed with pitch forks and shovels. When their patients slept, Chella sat by the hearth staring at her hands.

  Lauryn handed her a cup of hot tea and said, “I sent Bart home. His wife and daughter need him right now.”

  Chella said, “Bart’s a good man. Men like him will die in the coming war.”

  “What war?”

  Chella stood and removed her robe. Under the robe Chella wore tight-fitting leather pants and a leather vest over a long-sleeved shirt of strange shiny material. Uncovered, her hair was cut short in a severe style that emphasized Chella’s angular cheekbones and flashing black eyes.

  The most startling piece of Chella’s wardrobe was a sword hanging from her narrow waist. Lauryn felt shocked as Chella assumed a natural posture, resting her palm against the sword’s hilt. With a simple change of costume the healer had transformed into a fierce-looking warrior.

  Glancing down at her own borrowed clothes, Lauryn realized that she was no longer the novice healer who left the sanctuary two days ago.

  Chella said, “Faith is not bound by clothes or a house of worship. It rests in our hearts.” The words sounded soft but anger radiated from the woman, her mentor.

  “Are you a soldier?” Lauryn asked, almost afraid to hear the reply.

  Chella shrugged. “Through the ages God calls upon talented believers to defend his children. I’m a very capable fighter. If I were less adept at wielding a sword, many of the patients in this room would rest in graves rather than infirmary beds. Should I shirk my responsibility?”

  “I thought I knew everything about you. How did you learn to fight?”

  Chella stared through the steam of her tea. “I trained as a soldier in a previous life when I fought for the Institute. I thought it was my only talent, but Krystal taught me how to channel my energy into healing. I’ll be forever grateful to her.”

  Lauryn remembered her dream, the peaceful garden filled with giggling girls, and her mother’s smiling face.

  Chella frowned. “Why didn’t you tell me you dreamt of the garden?”

  “I don’t believe in dreams.” Lauryn sighed. “It’s only a garden filled with happy girls.”

  Chella shook her head. “Your dreams are important and those girls are your sisters.”

  “Sisters? I remembered playing with girls, but I thought they were just children who took sanctuary.” Lauryn searched Chella’s face for a sign of truth.

  “I should’ve guessed, since you’re nearly seventeen now, but I avoided facing the march of time. Time never waits.” Chella’s eyes glowed with enthusiasm and a shiver ran up Lauryn’s spine. “It’s time to find your sisters.”

  “What?” Lauryn could almost hear distant voices calling her name.

  “Yes, it’s time to join your sisters and remember who you are. We kept you safe for eleven years in the convent, but there’s little time left before the war begins.”

  A jolt of fear shot through Lauryn’s chest. “How do you know?”

  “Search your mind and unlock the answer.” Chella stroked Lauryn’s brow. “Allow yourself to remember, my darling girl. Remember who you are.”

  “I don’t want things to change! I want to stay safe in the sanctuary.”

  “Safe? It’s no longer safe here! Our presence attracts vile men who tear down doors and steal the tranquility we created. The convent must close and the sisters will go into hiding until we defeat this evil.” Chella held out a velvet box for Lauryn.

  “What’s that?” Lauryn asked, afraid to touch the box.

  “It’s a gift from your mother, part of your heritage.” Chella placed the box into Lauryn’s hand and opened the lid.

  Resting against royal blue satin a delicate gold locket sparkled. Lauryn smiled and traced the intricate pattern adorning the gold. “It’s beautiful. I remember my mother wore an amulet…” She gazed into Chella’s chocolate brown eyes.

  Chella smiled and lifted the locket from the box. “Krystal instructed me to give it to you when you started dreaming of the garden.” She slipped the long chain over Lauryn’s head. “Open it.”

  Lauryn hesitated. With trembling fingers she touched the locket and heat spread from the gold to warm her fingers. It felt friendly and soothing.

  “Don’t fear your birthright, embrace it,” Chella whispered.

  Tears trickled down hot cheeks as Lauryn opened the locket. Inside a crystal vibrated with energy. She stared into the swirling colors of the stone and saw faces, her mother, father, and sisters. Memories flashed through her mind; Lauryn chased her sisters through castle corridors; a black wolf licked her face as she snuggled against its warm body; Donovan tossed her into the air and she giggled.

  Lauryn smiled. “I remember my family. Why did I forget?”

  “I’ll explain on the trail. We’ve got to leave while it’s still dark.”

  Lauryn slipped the locket inside her shirt. “How can we leave our patients?”

  “The healing process has begun. In the morning the sisters will take everyone away from the convent. We must slip out in the cover of darkness to avoid pursuers.”

  As they walked down the winding stairs, Lauryn ran her fingers over the smooth white walls, wondering if she’d ever see the convent again. How could she survive in a world filled with cruel men?

  The hall was busy with sisters packing. They nodded politely as they passed but Lauryn felt sorrow radiate from their minds. “They’ll miss us,” she whispered to Chella.

  “Yes but courtesy demands that they act unemotional. Make the parting easier by ignoring their sorrow. Our food and clothes are packed and we’re ready to leave.” Chella handed Lauryn a piece of charcoal. “Darken your white face and hands. Once outside stay silent until we reach the forest. Practice sending me thoughts. I remember you chattered inside my head at the age of three.” Concentrate and send me your thoughts like a conversation.

  The mental voice sounded just like Chella. She often thought Chella read her mind and now she knew it was true. Was this the same woman who raised her and taught her the healing arts?

  Lauryn thought, Where are we going?

  Chella smiled. Good! You came through loud and clear. Jarrack’s men won’t give up hunting for you, so we must escape or be captured. We’re going to find your sisters.

  Lauryn thought, The leader touched my mind yesterday. He said I was a telepath.

  Yes, a telepath sends and receives thoughts like we are doing. You met Jerrod, the eldest of Jarrack’s sons. I recognized him among the desert riders and the sight nearly made my heart stop. He looks exactly like his father, even speaks with the same voice. Chella pointed at the thick forest. We’ll lose them in the swamp.

  Stories about danger lurking in the swamp frightened local children, but the real experience of facing Jarrack’s men was worse than slogging through a swamp. Desert riders captured young women without regard for rank and delivered them to Jarrack’s harem.

  She pictured the foul mercenaries who attacked the sanctuary, rubbing her bruised ribs. I’d rather face the swamp creatures than meet another desert rider.

  I thought you’d agree, Chella replied.

  Lauryn shivered—afraid her thoughts might bring the desert riders thundering do
wn on them.

  Chella shook her head. Jerrod’s the only telepath among them, and he rode out to search for you in the next town. He won’t hear our thoughts tonight.

  They crept out of the sanctuary and rushed to a rusty gate nearest the swamp. Chella used a large iron key on the lock. Lauryn braced herself for a loud squeak but the gate opened silently.

  We keep these hinges well-oiled for an occasion like this, Chella thought. The gate at the south entrance creaks to give us warning of an intruder.

  Waiting until clouds covered the moon, they dashed across open ground and crouched low. They zigzagged from one clump of thick bushes to the next. By the time they reached the woods, Lauryn’s legs and back ached, and she felt grateful to stand erect under a thick canopy of trees. Silver moonbeams flickered through gnarled branches. Spring in the swamp was already warm. The scent of fungus wafted up as her boots squished through mud. A silver snake slithered away in the moonlight.

  Chella crossed to an enormous fern-covered log and eyed the woods. Satisfied that no one watched, she twisted a knot in the center of the log that opened a false door. Inside the dry cavity, they found a canoe and neat bundles.

  “Trenton created this cache, knowing that we might need transportation and supplies,” Chella said with a grin. “He keeps secret caches like this ready. A channel leading into the bayou lies just beyond those cattails and willows.” Chella extracted a parchment scroll from one of the packs. “We can’t navigate the marshlands without his coded map. Few could follow our trail.”

  Lauryn breathed a sigh of relief. “I imagined spending days trudging through mud and goop, dodging snakes and alligators.”

  Chella nodded. “We’ve still got plenty of repulsive creatures to avoid, but it’s safer to float past them in a dry canoe. Help me get it to the water.”

  They carried the lightweight canoe to the water and loaded their packs. Lily pads rippled as they slid the craft down the muddy bank and crawled inside. Chella and Lauryn synchronized paddle strokes and soon the sleek boat sliced through tranquil waters.

  “Are we safe?” Lauryn asked.

  “This is the last place desert riders come. They’re terrified of the swamp and rightly so. Desert horses bog down, slogging through the mud, and their panicked whinnies are an invitation to dinner for swamp creatures. It’ll take an exceptional tracker to follow us through the swamp and several extra days to go around it.”

  A gator slithered down the riverbank and glided silently through the water with light ripples to mark its wake. Lauryn shivered. “I don’t feel very safe.”

  Chella chuckled. “Trenton travels this route often and he wears a pair of alligator-skin boots. I admit it feels better to see what’s out there, but the dark of night is our friend until we get well inside the swamp.”

  “What kind of markers did Trenton set to guide us?” Lauryn asked.

  Chella said. “Watch the trees and you’ll recognize his guideposts.”

  At a fork in the river Lauryn gasped. Hanging from a branch to their right, she saw a ghoulish face with glowing green eyes and jagged teeth. Chella checked her map. “We take the left fork at the green-eye gargoyle.” She angled the canoe to head down the correct stream. “A red-eyed creature marks the solid island where we camp.”

  “Trenton has a weird sense of humor.”

  Chella laughed. “He treasures a good joke and deliberately caters to desert superstitions when crafting his gargoyles. The masks look like demons from horror stories told around desert campfires.”

  “Clever. If a desert rider took a boat to chase us, he’d get rattled by Trenton’s markers.”

  “Trenton makes it even more difficult. He hangs decoys to lead someone without his coded map down a dead end. Don’t worry. We’ll camp on solid ground tonight, and it’ll be safe to travel during the daylight from there on.”

  Lauryn paddled the canoe and spotted several more gargoyles. They passed two and turned twice before entering a swift current. Chella said, “This is the main river. Rest while I describe your parents, but keep watch for the red-eyed gargoyle.”

  Lauryn pulled her paddle inside the boat and sipped from her canteen as she listened to Chella explain about Transfer and the special talents that helped Donovan and Krystal win the crown. Lauryn wondered if she inherited special abilities as Chella’s narrative sparked memories. The stone in her locket warmed at her touch.

  “Here we are.” Chella pointed at a red-eyed wolf with fangs dripping blood and maneuvered the canoe into a sheltered cove. They tied the boat and climbed a steep bank. A camouflaged tree house was wedged into the thick upper branches of an enormous tree. Chella tugged on a rope and a ladder swung down to the ground.

  “We’ll find more supplies and comfortable beds up there. When we pull up the ladder, predators can’t sneak up on us while we sleep.”

  “I like Trenton’s style,” Lauryn said as she marveled at the comforts inside the tree house—a stove, table, chairs, and rope beds. Sealed jars filled with grain, dried fruits, matches, and tinder lined the shelves.

  Chella unrolled sleeping bags over the ropes of the raised beds while Lauryn stoked a fire and set a pot on the metal stove. They ate a hearty meal and snuggled inside warm sleeping bags.

  Lauryn wondered about Chella’s story about escaping from the Institute. She asked, “If Jarrack came from the Institute like you and my parents, how can he be so evil?”

  “I’ve heard theories that men turn bad because they experienced hardships during childhood, but I don’t believe it. Jarrack made deliberate choices leading down an evil path. Worse, he dragged others down with him.”

  “Couldn’t he change, find the right course?”

  “He’s too corrupt, using mind control to ensnare weak minds. He forces people to obey his will and enjoys making them suffer. I doubt he could ever change. ”

  “Does everyone have evil lurking inside? Could anyone find themselves on the wrong path?”

  “God guides us, but He gives us free will to make our own decisions. Jarrack must suffer the consequences of his wicked choices.”

  Lauryn watched wispy clouds drift over the face of the golden moon.

  Chella said, “Sleep my child. There’s a long day ahead, so I’ll wake you at first light.”

  Lauryn forced her breathing into a steady pattern, relaxing the tension in her sore muscles. She fell asleep clutching her locket.

  *****

  The empty garden looked overgrown, neglected. Lauryn wandered through lifeless flowerbeds until she heard footsteps scrape against the gravel. A soothing male voice asked, “Why do you summon me from sleep?”

  Icy fingers stroked her golden hair, and Lauryn jerked away. Fear pulsed through her body, and she ran until her heart throbbed.

  “Don’t run away, little rabbit. I’m here to help.”

  “Leave me alone!” she cried.

  He laughed and a blue haze settled over the garden, withering the plants it touched. “I own this place!” he shouted. “When you come here, it’s to find me. Join me and experience pleasures you never knew existed. Become my queen and reign with me…forever.”

  She gripped her locket and anger flared, fueling her courage. “You must be Jarrack! You captured my father and sent us into hiding! This garden withers and dies under your touch, so it will never be yours. I will never sit at your side!”

  “Foolish child, if you don’t join me one of your sisters will become my queen.”

  “Leave them alone! You robbed us of a father and drove us from our home. Must you take our souls?”

  He laughed. “You sound just like Krystal. Did you know that you look like her? I should kill your mind and offer Krystal a replacement body for Transfer.”

  A morbid chill crept up through the cold ground into Lauryn’s bones.

  Coal black eyes filled the sky. “Gaze into my eyes, little one and accept your future.”

  “No!” a woman’s voice shouted, and a shimmering figure appeared overhead. �
�Look away, Lauryn. He’ll capture your mind if you gaze into his eyes.” White-hot lightning ripped through the blue haze and the black eyes turned from the shivering girl.

  “Krystal, welcome to my garden. Have you come to examine your replacement body? If you occupied this young body, you’d bear telepathic sons who don’t weaken and die with my touch.”

  Golden light spread across the garden warming the pathways. “I told you! We won’t allow you to harm my daughters. Leave us alone!”

  “I grow weary of squabbling with a shrew. When I capture your daughters, I’ll bend their minds to my will. One of your daughters will be my queen and the others my slaves. It matters little which one will serve me.” His laughter echoed through the garden as he disappeared.

  Krystal sounded weary. “I’m sorry, Lauryn. If I knew you’d come to the garden tonight, I’d have made it safe for your visit.”

  Lauryn gazed at the garden. Under Krystal’s touch it transformed into a place of beauty. She looked into her mother’s face, an older version of her own. “Chella says I should try to remember my sisters. Why did I forget?”

  “We barely escaped from Jarrack and knew he’d search for us. You were safer without me, so I blocked your memories and sent each of you with a trusted friend. Now it’s time to join your sisters. Together we will fight Jarrack and free Donovan.” Krystal held out her hand but Lauryn shrank from the touch, feeling vulnerable and afraid.

  Lauryn chided, “Where were you when I woke at night? Where were you when I trembled with fear? I needed someone to love me and you were gone.”

  Tears trickled down Krystal’s cheeks. “Chella was there to protect you from harm, but I always loved you.”

  Lauryn sighed and felt ashamed. “How can I remember?”

  “Open the locket and gaze into the crystal.”

  Lauryn gripped her mother’s fingertips, opened the locket and stared at the sparkling stone. She remembered snuggling into her mother’s arms, the gentle caress, and the warmth of her mother’s love filled her heart.

  “I’m sorry mother. I didn’t know.”