“C’mon,” she said, “I want to go visit Loral and Jesup while we’re here.”
Loral and Jesup an old married couple that owned the most prestigious gem piece shops in Alumhy. Jesup was extremely talented at carving and polishing Samarian diamonds and other precious stones, while his wife, Loral, usually made the gold and silver settings for the gems to lay in. Every year on her name day, the couple sent a unique gem piece to the princess as homage for her birth.
Their shop was set on the corner of Alumhy’s merchant district, and the location was usually well shopped by wealthy patrons, which was good for business. Today, the door sat casually propped open to let in the fresh mountain air, and the usually busy street looked completely abandoned of town folk. Zora had never noticed it before, but the shop’s sign that read ‘LJ’s Gem Pieces’ looked washed of color, and the wood carved letters were in need of repair.
Zora walked up the four stone steps followed by Arianna. She heaved a sigh of surprise when she looked inside the tiny shop. All of Loral and Jesup’s products and personal items had been packed up and placed in wooden crates that were piled high along each wall. A thick coat of dust and dirt covered the usually pristine floor, and all the tools and machines Jesup used to shape the gem pieces were nowhere to be seen. Loral must have heard someone enter the shop, because she peaked her head out of the back storage room to investigate who it was.
“Lady Zora!” she cried when she recognized the young woman. She came outside to meet them, and Zora noticed the kind woman looked a bit older and more weary than usual.
“You are the last person I was expecting to see today, but please, come in.” She moved towards her, clasping Zora’s hands gently in greeting and giving her a genuine, but sad smile. Zora looked around in worry.
“Loral, what happened? Is everything ok? Is Jesup well?” Loral followed Zora’s gaze around the empty shop, clearly embarrassed by her shop’s state of disarray in the presence of the Samarian Princess. She gulped hard.
“Yes, yes, Jesup is fine,” she stammered, looking hesitant to reveal anything further. Zora’s questioning gaze was relentless.
“Loral, I’ve known you and Jesup my whole life, and you’ve been running this shop since I can remember. Your pieces are known across the Realm, and you’re a national treasure, so don’t keep anything from me, please. What happened?”
Loral gave in and took a seat on a rickety chair, wiping her face with her dusty apron. “Lady Zora, I never defame my country, but lately, the amount of gems coming from the mines isn’t nearly as abundant as it use to be.” She played with her apron ends nervously.
“We haven’t received a good shipment in almost nine months! And you know Jesup. He can make something beautiful from almost anything, but these stones just aren’t the quality they use to be. I refuse to sell pieces that don’t make Samaria proud, but we just can’t keep up with all the orders coming in.” Loral looked as though she would burst into tears at any moment.
“Forgive me, Lady Zora, but I fear there is nothing you can do to fix this problem. After thirty years, Jesup and I just can’t afford to run the shop anymore. I truly am sorry.” She sniffled as tears began to flow.
“We are going to go live with our son who runs a small blacksmith shop in one of the mountain towns.” She talked regretfully, as though she was personally responsible for the failure of her business.
Zora felt angered at the predicament her country was in, for it only hurt kind and good people such as Loral and Jesup. She wanted to assist them, but she had no idea how, especially now that she was being forced to move to the other side of the Realm. She was practically helpless. Zora was a Daughter of the Mountain, and if Evangeline would just keep her here, she was certain she could find a way to help the people of Samaria.
Does the Queen even know what the citizens of Samaria are going through right now? Does she even care? Zora thought as frustration filled her thoughts.
A sudden ray of sunlight came through one of the shop windows and hit a dilapidated wooden crate sitting atop the counter. The contents of the crate began glittering like crazy, catching Zora’s attention. The young woman drew down her eyebrows in confusion.
“Loral, what are those shining objects in that crate?” she asked curiously. The older woman dabbed at her eyes that were swimming with tears.
“Oh, those. My other son, he’s a miner, brought them here for me. He claims Talan Leatherby came in one day and assigned him to a team specifically instructed with mining them and nothing else.”
“Do you mind?” Zora asked as she reached into the crate and pulled out the object, turning it over in her hands. Loral nodded approvingly.
“I’ve seen these before,” Zora remarked. She’d seen many Samarian treasures while wandering the caves beneath the mountains. “I didn’t think they were worth anything.”
“There not, really,” Loral explained. “It’s azurite crystal to be exact. Most crystal can be cut, polished, and finished off into jewelry. We’ve done it before with other kinds, but this…it has been impossible. Jesup has been trying for a couple of weeks, but the rock is so hard nothing will break it.”
Zora rummaged through the crate again examining the crystals until she felt something cool and smooth touch her fingertips. She pulled out the new object and opened it up in her palm. It was a brooch, simple and elegantly made, with the blue azurite in the center surrounded by yellow gold in folded designs. It sparkled like a diamond.
“I thought you said this crystal couldn’t be cut?” Zora asked Loral. The older women leaned back in the chair and shrugged.
“It can’t. Jesup had to melt it first then forge it. The process is way too time consuming and complicated for an item that has no worth in Samaria. You can have it if it fancies you, Lady Zora.” Zora closed her fist around it then reached into the pouch on her hip and pulled out a handful of gold coins.
“For the brooch,” she said handing the coins over to Loral. The old woman smiled gratefully at her. “I’ll do whatever I can to better our country’s situation. No matter where I am. That I promise you.”
“You’ve always had a good heart, young noble. Take care now.”
Zora gave her a peck on the cheek before she and Arianna bid their farewell and exited the vacant store.
“Can we go back to Mizra now?” Arianna pleaded when they were back outside. “We have so much to do before tonight, and we are already behind schedule.”
“I have one more stop to make, Ari. It’ll be quick. I promise.”
“I don’t believe you,” she pouted back. “Where are you dragging me?”
“To a friend of Milo’s,” Zora answered as she pushed Arianna around a corner. The maidservant wrinkled up her nose in disfavor.
“You really shouldn’t spend so much time with that old man, Zora. It isn’t normal.” Arianna tried to choose her words carefully, so as not to offend the relationship the noble held with the elder man. Zora recoiled at the comment, a flash of anger illuminating her blue eyes.
“He’s been nothing but good to me,” she growled at Arianna, “and he’s the only family I have. I won’t have you insult him. Besides, I’m taking some seeds and plants with me to Montanisto, so I’ll have a little bit of home while I’m there. Milo’s friend is the only one who has what I need at the moment.” Zora felt a twinge of guilt about being dishonest with Arianna, but she knew the truth wouldn’t make any sense to her, so Zora avoided it all together.
She grabbed Arianna’s hand, made a slight right turn away from the square, and disappeared into an alleyway hidden behind a small covered wagon. Zora began trotting through the zigzagged back roads until several minutes later, the two women emerged from the maze where the cobblestone roads ended and gave way to dusty dirt paths. Arianna looked behind her. The cloister of Alumhy’s rooftops and the outline of Mizra’s towers had quickly become further and further away as the women encroached on the rolling set of hills in the valley before them.
Zora
was unsure how long the two women walked along the winding road. By now the sun was bright and high in the sky, and the only haze left from the morning was encircling the mountain peaks in the distance. As they drew nearer to the rolling hillside, Zora could see the pair was approaching a quaint cottage perched on top of a knoll, nestled into the bordering forest that climbed up the foot of the mountains.
The cottage was wooden frame with a straw thatched roof and a small door set back into the face. In front of the house a stone well sat low to the ground. Zora quickened her pace, tackling the increasing incline from the hill they were climbing. As the cottage was coming closer and closer in her sight, Zora looked up then stopped dead in her tracks, fear freezing her in place.
A foreigner was skulking around outside the cottage, almost as if he was waiting for the two women to arrive. He glanced over his shoulder prey like, skimming the valley from his perch in order to be forewarned of any approaching company. The stranger was shrouded in a dark colored riding jacket, fitted at the arms and torso, and a thick hood covered his face.
As he crept around the perimeter of the cottage Zora could see a jerkin, fashioned from reptile scales, protecting his entire torso. Her heartbeat quickened as she observed the hilt of a sword attached to the wearer’s hip. A gloved hand, protected by a leather gauntlet surmounted by razor sharp blades, purposely hovered near the weapon. Boots, whose heels and toes were also covered in spikes, protected his feet.
Something isn’t right, Zora thought in panic. He doesn’t look like any Samarian I’ve ever seen before. Her memories trickled back to that night in the Forest of Mirth three years ago, and her chest tightened in dread.
How did he know I would be here?
As these thoughts passed through Zora’s mind, the stranger stopped his prowling as if he felt Zora’s eyes on him. He stood up straight and turned gradually in the women’s direction, his armored hand securing on the sword. In the brightness of day, with the smell of blooming flowers and the rustling of spring wind permeating through the valley, Zora could focus on nothing other than the dark figure against the daylight, his face hidden in the shadow of the hood.
“Ouch! Zora, you’re hurting me!” Arianna screeched as she jerked her hand out of Zora’s rock-hard grip. When she sighted the being prowling around the small cottage, Zora had grabbed Arianna and pushed her off the path and into the shade of a willow tree next to it.
“What’s wrong with you?” Arianna demanded, rubbing her crushed hand consolingly. “Have you gone mad?” The young noble closed her eyes tight and shook her head.
“Arianna,” she whispered, “do you see that stranger sneaking around the house? The one wearing the hood and armed with a sword?” Arianna peered in the direction of the cottage, placing her hand on her forehead to block out the glare of the early afternoon sun.
“Yes, Zora, I do see someone,” she snapped, irritation rising in her voice. “It’s Milo. You did mention he was going to be meeting us here, did you not?”
Zora’s eyes flew open and her head whipped back around, the thundering heart beat in her chest coming to a halt. Sure enough, a figure sat on the edge of the stone well, dressed in a plain overcoat, breeches, and leather boots. His walking stick was propped against his knee, and his arthritic, gnarled hand was on the handle. The mule he had rode there on was tied to a nearby tree.
No, this doesn’t make any sense, Zora pleaded inwardly. I know I saw someone else there…
Arianna gave her a nasty look then commenced walking towards the small cottage, leaving Zora frozen in her spot under the tree. The young noble clinched her fists in frustration. These paranormal visions were starting invade her everyday life, not only her sleep.
“Zora, hurry up! This was your idea, remember,” Arianna yelled over her shoulder. Zora sighed as she began treading up the path, feeling defeated once again by the apparitions that caused her to question her sanity. Milo had already knocked twice on the wooden door to the cottage when Zora caught up with them. He looked over at her, his venerable face smiling at her in greeting. She forced a smile back, still feeling a bit shaken at the phantasmagoric vision she’d seen only moments earlier.
“Milo,” she uttered softly when the two were in close proximity. His face was close to hers, and she could smell musk and fresh earth coming from his shave oil. His snow-white hair was recently washed and combed back from his forehead where it usually hung low.
“Did you see anyone else outside the cottage while you were waiting for us? Or anything odd at all?” Milo frowned and shook his head.
“No, my dear. I was by my lonesome. Why? Was there suppose to be someone here?” Milo’s blue-green eyes studied her furtively.
“No,” she said slowly. “It’s just us.”
Zora had already forgotten that they were waiting for a response to Milo’s knock and was spooked when the large wooden door creaked open slowly, unassisted, on its hinges. Zora caught a strong whiff of sage with an undercurrent of spices flow from inside the small dwelling. All three of them looked at each other anxiously then entered single file into the cottage. Milo headed the way as the door secured firmly behind them with a dull thud.
It took a moment before Zora’s eyes adjusted to the dimness of the wooden cottage. She looked around keenly, taking in the strange surroundings. To her left, a large fireplace was built into the wall. Above it was a wooden mantle that displayed a half dozen burning candles with wax crawling down their sides. At the moment, no flames inhabited the open space, and the only evidence that a fire ever burned there was the cast iron cauldron set in the middle atop lifeless coals. Next to the hearth stood what looked like an altar, covered in a violet table runner. A tarnished silver chalice, three opaque glass jars, and a small dagger were all arranged neatly on top of it. Bronze censers hung from the joists crisscrossing the ceiling, and curls of smoke from their burning incense filled the room.
“Ah, Milo. I was expecting you a bit earlier today, but better late than never, I suppose.” A woman had appeared silently next to the three of them.
“Madame Fae,” Milo responded, hobbling over to her with his cane and kissing her on the cheek. “Thank you for seeing us on such short notice.”
“Anything for a friend,” she answered sweetly.
After seeing her, Zora knew instantly why Milo was so fond of Madame Fae. She was an attractive woman with voluptuous curves and a cherub face framed by hair speckled with grey. Plaited into her hair where ribbons, bells, and jewels that matched several charms hanging around her neck and circling her wrists. At first, Madame Fae appeared to be middle-aged in years, but further inspection by Zora revealed timeless, sable eyes and a sagacious intellect. Madame Fae turned her astute gaze to the two women behind Milo, breezing over Arianna, who appeared obviously uncomfortable by the situation, and lingered on Zora.
“You must be Princess Zora,” she said with a small bow. “It is an honor to meet you.”
“And you, as well,” Zora replied courteously.
Madame Fae clapped her hands together. “Well then, enough with introductions. Shall we begin?”
As if on cue, Milo grabbed Arianna by the elbow and spun her around to exit the small cottage. He was mumbling something about needing her to help him pick herbs from Madame Fae’s garden. Zora could hear Arianna protesting all the way down the path from the house as the door shut behind them then locked.
“So, let me see what I am working with,” Madame Fae began once the two of them were alone in the dim, smoke filled room.
She unexpectedly grabbed both of Zora’s hands in a firm grip and began to methodically massage Zora’s thumb knuckles until the skin was warm and tender. All the while she stared deeply into Zora’s eyes, never blinking. The noble couldn’t help but become enchanted by Madame Fae’s unmoving gaze, and she realized she couldn’t avert her locked gaze, even if she tried. All of a sudden, Zora felt as if a great weight had been lifted off of her shoulders, like her deepest, darkest secrets were no longer her own
but displayed for anyone to see. She felt completely vulnerable. Zora was unable to tell how long this unusual bond with Madame Fae lasted, but the attractive women suddenly gasped and dropped Zora’s hands as if they were covered in leprosy. A look of astonishment passed over her face, but it was gone as quickly as it came.
“Well,” she began with a cracked voice, “I believe now I know what I’m working with.”
Regaining her composure, she began to circle Zora slowly, taking in her entire form in a studious manner as she continued. “You’re still young, I see, and chaste. No doubt about that. Very solemn disposition, reserved as well. Unusually independent, for a woman, and unyielding. But bordering on reclusive. A consequence of your upbringing I presume.” She stopped in front of Zora again, the bells in her hair jingling after her. “But you possess a kind and gentle heart, which is rare and precious. It’s far too guarded though, child. Are you blocking others out or just keeping yourself in?”
Zora remained silent and stunned, unsure how to respond to the eccentric woman who seemed to understand everything there was about her, even though they’d never met before now.
Madame Fae continued. “Your nuptial is drawing near, am I correct? You look about the mature age. I can usually see and smell the desire coming off of those who are betrothed, but you, you’re as dry as a fallen tree leaf on an autumn day, pardon my candidness, dear. Now, let’s see how my talents can be put to use for you. Elixirs of passion are my forte, and it seems as though you’ll need it…”
Zora felt herself blush, but fortunately Madame Fae had turned her back to her. She was rummaging through shelving built into the wall, pulling out vials of vanilla bean extract, lemon grass, and apple seeds, along with a handful of red beryl crystals. Heading over to the hearth, Madame Fae brought to life the cluster of coals beneath the cast iron cauldron and kneeled down to begin arranging the red stones in a semicircle on the floor below it.
Azurite (Daughter of the Mountain Book 1) Page 11