“I’d rather forgo all the diversions and address the issues at hand, Olger. We’ve a lot to discuss, and time shan’t be wasted.” She glanced over to the Noman servant nearest her bearing a steaming pot of stew. “Please deliver these meals to my men outside. They will be grateful for your generosity.” The servant nodded in return then retreated to the outside where Evangeline’s Guard remained behind.
Evangeline turned back to Olger Guttensen who studied her languidly. “I trust you received the gold bars I sent you, yet I received no confirmation if you did. I am here today to discuss the terms of our agreement now that our mines have once again begun producing, and I am able to satisfy the payments we agreed on. While I am thankful for the services you have provided Samaria over the last few years, I am no longer in need of them.” She paused as her last statement, filled with confidence, hung in the air. Olger just stared at her with that same austere expression until his deep, unsmiling laugh broke through the tenseness.
“Evangeline…Evangeline,” he chuckled shaking his head. “How long have we known each other? How long have our predecessors been dear neighbors? For both of our ancestors toiled these same lands we now occupy.” He stopped chuckling, and his face darkened. “And yet you still take me for a fool. But…” He held up his finger as if to silence her… “I assure you, I am no fool.”
“Of course not, Lord Guttensen,” Evangeline quickly replied, but her heart was palpitating at the thought of Olger drawing such a conclusion. “What would make you say such a thing?”
Olger chuckled softly again then reached into his fur coat and withdrew a misshapen golden nugget no bigger than his thumb. He held it up for Evangeline to see.
“This,” he began,” is pure Samarian gold, found when I was a child walking along the riverbanks of our own Argent River. I’ve kept is close to me ever since, as a constant reminder of what was taken from my people that I am yet to claim.”
He bent over and reached into a wooden chest sitting next to his chair. He brought out a golden bar that Evangeline immediately recognized as the gold she’d taken from the emissary as payment. Olger held it out in his open palm for her to see, then held the smaller golden nugget up next to it in his other palm. When placed side by side, the difference in gold was noticeable, at least to a native Samarian such as Evangeline, although untrained eyes wouldn’t be able to discern the slight idiosyncrasies.
The foreign gold held a rosy color, compliments of the copper alloyed with it, and the luster was duller, rusty almost, compared to the Samarian nugget. The bar wasn’t completely pure gold, because such a thing could only be mined in Samaria. She knew, and he knew it. The Queen had most definitely taken Olger Guttensen for a fool.
Evangeline swallowed the rock in her throat, trying to think of something to say to the angry Overlord that would not incriminate her any further. “Why does it matter?” she asked in an innocent voice. “Those bars are still gold, and they still carry their full worth. You can buy much with it.”
“Because that’s not what I asked for!” Olger boomed, hurling the gold bar across the room angrily. Several servants rushed out of the way of the flying projectile as it landed with the sounds of splitting wood. “You are violating the terms of our agreement,” he sneered, “and summer solstice draws near. If you desire to pay your debt in foreign gold, then I’ll require double the amount just to satisfy it.”
Evangeline was now trembling in anger towards the insatiable Overlord who held her so vulnerably between his thumb and forefinger. She knew that arguing this subject matter was useless since Olger was right in everything he was saying. She’d tried to con him, and she’d failed. The Samarian mines were as good as dead with the production of precious gems and metals almost at a standstill. No matter how many men she employed to chip away at the mountain rock, they couldn’t excavate what wasn’t there.
If Olger was willing to accept the foreign gold as restitution at double the amount, she would have to increase production and shipment of the azurite crystal to receive additional payments from the anonymous buyer. That could only happen through faster transport by water, which currently Olger wasn’t allowing. None of this was going to happen before summer solstice.
“I want access to the river,” Evangeline blurted out. Olger just stared at her then put his hands next to his shoulders and shrugged.
“You have access to the river, My Queen. I’m doing nothing to stand in your way.”
“Now who’s taking who for a fool?” Evangeline snapped. “I know you have your men stationed unseen along the banks. They raid our nearby villages just for sport and won’t hesitate to attack my people if we begin building a port along the river.”
“I have no knowledge of what you speak,” Olger insisted. He leaned forward, and the wooden throne creaked underneath him. “And I cannot control the actions of rogue raiding parties occupying your lands. Perhaps you should increase the efficiency and skill of your Guard? Instead of blaming Nomanestan for your shortcomings.”
Evangeline just glowered at him, knowing that the Overlord was not going to admit he purposely had his men positioned along the river to prevent Evangeline from having access to it. It was just another way for Olger to provoke the Queen, another thorn in her side reminding her that the Noman people use to rule Samaria, and the leaders of Nomanestan were still bitter about the wars that forced them out. He would do everything he could to make life for her difficult.
“Will you walk with me?” he asked suddenly, his previous spout of anger replaced by a nonchalant tone. “I have something I’d like to show you.” Olger stood up and removed the fur coat from his broad shoulders, revealing a robust and tanned upper body.
“My Queen, I insist I go,” a voice behind her interrupted. “I don’t trust him.”
Evangeline had almost forgotten Vincent was there. She cleared her scratchy throat. “No, Vincent. I’ll go alone.”
She was unable to resist Olger’s request when he came over to her and offered her his arm chivalrously, as if they were the best of friends. With the Overlord leading the way, Evangeline followed him through a private exit at the back of the hall and out to a small garden behind the dwelling. Olger’s structure was built right against the fortified wooden wall that surrounded the city, and Evangeline saw numerous sets of stairs built into the wall leading up to the parapet above.
“This way,” he said, nodding towards the ascending steps.
Olger began climbing the stairs with Evangeline trailing behind. She didn’t know how long they climbed, but the Queen’s heart and lungs were begging her to stop when Olger finally halted. They were standing atop the great defensive wall and were so high up that powerful gusts of wind whipped her long hair around her face till she was forced to hold it securely back with her hand. When she was finally able to see what Olger had lead her to, she almost cried out in astonishment.
Normally, the Nomanestan grasslands appeared to run on for miles and miles, uninterrupted, until they finally merged with the horizon. But occupying these rolling lands today were thousands upon thousands of Noman soldiers camped outside the city wall. The Overlord of their lands had called them to duty, and they loyally responded. Men in dark lamellar armor, brown tents, and smoking fires replaced the healthy verdant color of the hills; it was an omen of warfare. They were blocked off in squares, mimicking the quad shape of the Noman defensive city wall. Their formation went on till the dull colors of the camp merged with the edge of the earth in her vision. They seemed to outnumber the stars.
Samarian armor, weaponry, and quality of skilled soldiers may be better, but Olger crushes you in shear numbers.
Evangeline shuddered as she remembered what the magical messenger atop Sugarpine Pass had said to her, and he was undoubtedly correct.
The Queen looked fearfully over to Olger, who now had a cocky smirk occupying his face. The wind jerked at his earrings, and they jingled loudly in the Queen’s ears proving he was standing to close to her.
“Yo
u’re out of time, Evangeline,” he reminded her. “Soon I will be forced to use these armies to reclaim what is rightfully mine.”
The Queen forced herself to breath deeply, trying to steady the world that was beginning to spin around her.
“You wouldn’t have called in such forces if you weren’t already planning to invade,” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. “To gather such an army takes time and tactic. You’ve been devising this all along, haven’t you? You knew I wouldn’t be able to pay back my debt.”
Olger’s arrogant grin widened as he reached out and grabbed a strand of Evangeline’s chocolate brown hair that was flying free in the wind.
“You know, I’ve been thinking,” he started, examining her silky hair, “that we’re not so different, you and I.” He curled her dark hair, evidence of her mixed ancient heritage, around his finger. “We come from the same blood, you see. For when my people took over these lands, they took the weaker mountain woman as mates.”
With her trestles still wrapped in his hand, he reached up and ran his rough finger along the edge of her jawbone, slowly moving down her neck till his thumb was caressing the hallow of her neck. Evangeline’s skin burned underneath his touch, and it took every thing she had not to pull away from him.
“We’re not the same,” Evangeline challenged with a cold glare. “You desire nothing but power, and you think you can obtain it by taking what isn’t yours. By controlling other lands and other people against their will. You exploit those who seek your aid and manipulate the situation to benefit you.” Evangeline was talking about her own predicament now. Olger just released his touch and laughed at her.
“You desire power too, just not in the same way.”
“What do you mean?” she asked suspiciously. Olger turned towards her and leaned his elbows on the sanded edge of the parapet wall.
“You contain more wealth in that ice covered country of yours than in the entire Realm, yet how willing are you to share it with others? How many times during your reign have other rulers come to Samaria in times of distress, seeking assistance because you have the ability to help them. Maybe you’ll do it…but mostly you won’t.”
“When Samaria was faced with a state of emergency, whom did you come to? Me! Because you knew the others in the Realm would feel no compassion towards a Queen who cared nothing for them and would rather stay hidden beyond her mountain walls. You came to me because you knew all the other rulers despise you, just as they despise me.” Olger’s eyes bore deeply into hers, and he brought his finger to his chin as if pondering some deep thought.
“In fact,” he continued, “I presume your desire to hold onto your power is so intense, that it forced you to exile your own daughter, to keep her from replacing you on the Samarian throne.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Evangeline retorted hotly. The Overlord just shrugged.
“I hear rumors that come directly from the nosy Sovereign Alliance itself. Your popularity amongst them continues to decline, especially now that your likeable, innocent heir is out of the picture. Only a cruel and callous mother would do such a thing to her own child. Truthfully, I could care less about your own personal dilemmas. My interest is only in Samarian gold, because in the end whoever holds the wealth holds the power. But I think you already know that.” Olger paused and turned around to look over the battalions of men stationed below him. “We could be good together, you and I. If you just decide to stop fighting me, that is. Together our lands could rule this entire Realm. What do you say to such a proposition?”
The young Queen examined Olger’s sun worn face with deep-set lines that told a million stories of his life. His dark eyes studied her underneath heavy brows. Finally, the Queen spoke.
“You and I are nothing alike, Olger. And I won’t subject my people to your torment. This time history will not repeat itself. As long as I am Queen, the Noman people will never control us! ” Olger narrowed his eyes at her, and his pupils enlarged with anger.
“Then all these men will be upon your lands, you foolish woman!” he growled, gesturing to the masses below them. “And absolutely NO ONE will come to save you. The silver waters of the river you so desperately want access to will run red with Samarian blood. I see the truth of your situation now, and prepare for me to collect on the agreement we made. I won’t wait till summer solstice to take the land that was promised to me!”
Evangeline took a couple of steps back along the parapet’s steep staircase, frightened of the two faced Overlord who suddenly seemed to grow more terrorizing in her presence. She was unable to contain her hatred for him any longer, and her heart was pounding so loudly in her throat she could hardly hear his rant.
“Don’t underestimate me, savage!” Evangeline avowed. “Samaria will be ready for you, and we will prevail!” Unwilling to wait for the Overlord to say anything further, the Queen turned her back to him and rushed down the stairs of the parapet and back through Olger’s Hall. When she burst outside, her party immediately rose to meet her, each one taking note of the fearful urgency in her footsteps.
“Queen Evangeline…”Alvard said, reaching for her, but the Queen shoved him out of her way.
“Vincent, round everybody up,” Evangeline yelled in a voice consumed by rage. “I am FINISHED with trying to deal with this despicable tyrant! Let us ride as far away from this accursed place as possible!”
All the villagers and servants milling around had stopped to stare at the foreigners as Evangeline screamed at her Guard and mounted her mare. From that spot, Evangeline kicked her mare in the sides and sped away with her men at full speed, past all the grim looking spectators. They forced the horses into gallop as they trampled through the Noman village, past the defensive doors, and back over the rolling hills until they began to ascend once again into the Anion Mountains.
Evangeline was a nervous wreck as they forced their way through the dense, hilly grasslands. The Queen knew the Noman rulers were as slick as eels when it came to getting what they wanted, but the Queen didn’t like being taken for a fool. She’d been witness to the thousands of men occupying the Noman grasslands, armed and waiting for the battle that Olger had been carefully plotting all along. That vision enticed a sort of feverish violence inside the Queen that Evangeline didn’t know existed. If Olger so much as touched Samaria, she’d have his head.
Samaria was no longer safe nestled behind the Anion Mountains, but then again it never had been. She had failed her people as a Queen, and now her poor decision to get involved with a tyrant was bringing war to their very doorstep. The Queen’s heart burned with regret, and she dreaded having to tell her advisors and the dear people of her country that they needed to prepare for a war they may not win.
By the time Evangeline and her Guard neared the Argent River, their horses were foaming at the mouth and glistening with perspiration from the forced exertion of their riders. Evangeline watched as the Guard advancing before her gradually slowed their mounts. Vincent asked the Queen to remain behind momentarily as he went to scout the area where the remaining Guard had been waiting behind at the bridge.
Before her, the sound of rushing water echoed throughout the canyon, and only seconds later Evangeline could hear Vincent and another Guard yelling at each other, although the words were muffled by the sounds of moving water. Suddenly, Vincent broke back through the thin cover of trees, his face distorted in confusion.
“My Queen,” he said scowling, “It appears as though the remaining Guard has retreated back to Samaria. Cowards! They are nowhere to be seen!” Evangeline felt a wave of unease grip her bones when he said this, and she looked past him to where glimpses of the moving river could be seen between the cover of forest.
“Samarians are not cowards,” Evangeline stated fervidly. “Especially when it comes to the Noman people. We must find them before this barbaric Overlord has them harmed!” With that, the Queen kicked her already exhausted mare in the sides and rushed past Vincent to the riverban
ks. He tried to protest, like normal, but she ignored him and vanished into the trees. Vincent just sighed then quickly followed behind her.
“Find our men,” Evangeline repeated to her Guard. “Do not leave one rock unturned!”
Evangeline watched as the remaining six Guards quickly dispersed, their weapons drawn and eyes alert as they began scouring the land searching for the missing men. The Queen decided to alight and trotted quietly over the pebbly riverbanks, stepping carefully into the cool water as the current moved swiftly around her ankles. She surveyed the gushing rapids, praying to the Creator that she wouldn’t find limp bodies bobbing in the torrent.
The water pressure from the undercurrent was so strong that white spray pounded the arches of the bridge as it broke across the pillars built to support it. She could see two of the Guards walking along the bridge, examining the structure for any signs that the men had gone that way. She didn’t notice, but Vincent had ridden up next to her, and when she looked at him, his face was as white as a ghost.
“My Queen, you’d better come take a look,” he said. Heart pounding from his expression alone, Evangeline was lead by her Guard back to the ancient stone bridge that she’d just been staring at. Standing to the left of it, Vincent pointed a shaking finger to something that had been veiled by a wall of white mist from where the Queen had been standing. When Evangeline saw the gruesome scene before her, all her deepest nightmares were realized.
Her six unaccounted Samarian Guards had been beaten bloody, their faces unrecognizable through the dirt and gore now covering them. All of them had been hung from the side of the bridge by a chain noose wrapped around the railing, their necks and spines limp and broken from the deadly fall. They’d been stripped of their armor, cut and mutilated in their own skin, and their lifeless bodies slapped against the bridge like rag dolls as the water tried to carry them unsuccessfully downstream. Evangeline forced herself to look away as tears of grief and anger burned in her eyes. After a moment, she turned towards Vincent.
Azurite (Daughter of the Mountain Book 1) Page 32