A River of Orange

by Roberta C. M. DeCaprio

  At that moment Titiana flew through the window, landing clumsily on the sill. “You will not find Meav at Tobiah's,” she said breathlessly. “In fact, you will not find Zailia, or Tobiah as well. They are all gone!"

  Rule suddenly felt a cold chill creep down his spine. He moved forward and scooped up the pixie into the palm of his hand. “Gone ... gone where?"

  "To the castle,” Titiana said with a shaky voice. “Devora's guards have captured them ... captured them all!"

  Chapter Fifteen

  Rule could feel his stomach churn. “Are you sure of what you are saying?"

  Titiana sucked in her breath. “I am quite sure, my lord. With my own two eyes I watched the sentry, Shell, and two other guards bind their hands and march them to a doom I do not want to think about."

  "Damnation!” Rule shouted, placing the pixie down on the table. “Again Devora's evil prevails.” He turned toward Ibrehem. “This time she must be stopped."

  Ibrehem made his way to the door. “I will round up the men and together we will devise a rescue plan."

  Rule followed. “Aye, I am right behind you."

  Ibrehem halted Rule with a raised hand. “'Tis not wise for you to attempt coming along, my lord."

  Rule's frown deeply creased his brow. “And why is that, my friend?"

  Ibrehem nervously moistened his lips. “The curse ... your life."

  "Have you not heard anything Wysteria has said?” Rule snapped. “My love for Meav, and her love for me has dissolved the spell."

  Wysteria smiled. “Then you trust my words ... believe Meav's heart is yours?"

  "Aye, dear healer, I do,” Rule answered in a softer tone.

  "But we cannot be sure ... you have not spoken to Meav as of yet,” Ibrehem protested. “And you suddenly falling down dead “tisn't something I am willing to chance."

  "But I am willing to chance it,” Rule countered. “Besides, if I have to live without Meav in my life, I would rather be dead."

  "My lord, will you not listen to reason?” Ibrehem pleaded.

  "Ibrehem, can anything stop you at this moment from running to Zailia's aid?” Rule asked.

  "Nay, nothing,” Ibrehem admitted.

  "Then there is nothing more to discuss.” Rule rushed to the door and threw it open. “Come ... we have wasted enough time as ‘tis."

  Ibrehem nodded in agreement. “I am at your heels, my lord."

  As soon as Wysteria closed the door behind them she went to her spell book. Turning to Titiana, who still sat in wide-eyed fright on the table, Wysteria spoke with certainty. “This time my sister will reckon with a force she did not expect, the power of love. But it never hurts to have reinforcement."

  Titiana slowly stood on wobbly legs. “What is your plan, dear healer?"

  Wysteria turned the pages of the book. “I will conjure up a protection spell, one that will guard and guide Rule and his men to victory."

  Titiana moved closer to Wysteria. “How can I help?"

  "The spell calls for Pixie Powder,” Wysteria said. “Will you share some of yours for the cause?"

  Titiana smiled broadly. “Aye, dear healer ... all that you need."

  * * * *

  Neteru had summoned her apprentices. As they stood before her with silent patience, the high priestess chose her words carefully. “The day I have been dreading has arrived. The young maiden Meav, Tobiah and Zailia have all been taken by Devora."

  One apprentice gasped. “The witch has found out then, that two are related to you?"

  Neteru nodded sadly. “I am sure of it."

  The other apprentice swallowed hard. “How have you come by this news?"

  "Wysteria sent Titiana with a message,” Neteru said.

  The apprentice's eyes widened with horror.

  Neteru felt her heart beating rapidly within her chest. “I knew things were not as they should be ... I heard it in the wind, smelt it in the air. Titiana just confirmed what I had already felt.” She squared her shoulders. “We must help Rule now ... the time has come for him to fulfill what is his destiny."

  "How can we help Rule, priestess?” one apprentice asked.

  Neteru extended a hand to each woman. “Come with me and I will show you."

  * * * *

  The commotion in the great hall had brought Devora from her chamber. Standing at the top of the staircase she gazed down at the prisoners. “Well, well, my guests have arrived."

  Meav turned to look up the stairs at Devora. “What do you want with us, Devora?"

  Devora was taken aback by her first sight of the maiden with the fiery curls. There was only one other that had such hair, and eyes as blue as the sea ... Meridith.

  "Nay ... it cannot be,” Devora whispered to herself. Slowly her shaky legs took her down the carpeted steps until she stood before Meav. “Do my eyes deceive me?"

  Meav moved closer to Devora. “What is it you think you see?"

  Devora swallowed hard. “Meridith ... is it you?"

  Meav defiantly raised her chin. “Nay, not Meridith, but I have been told often I bear a striking resemblance to her."

  Devora's knees gave out from under her. Quickly she sat down on a step. “How ... how can that be?"

  Meav glared down at her evil aunt. “Meridith is me mother."

  Devora looked up at Meav. “Meridith ... is ... alive?"

  Meav's eyes clouded with hatred. “Nay, she died in childbirth."

  Devora stood, her mouth twisting with annoyance. “Why have you come to Keronia?"

  "'Twas the winds of fate that brought me ... to undo what you have done,” Meav said. “Shocking sometimes how things have a way of coming back."

  Devora's face reddened with her rage. “And you think you can avenge your mother?"

  Meav squared her shoulders. “Aye."

  Devora threw her head back and laughed. “Then you will die trying.” She turned to Carson. “Take them to the torture chamber and chain them to the wall."

  Carson's eyes grew wide with wicked delight. “Do you want them stripped and beaten, Your Majesty?"

  Meav stood boldly in front of her evil aunt.

  "Nay,” Devora finally said. “I want the pleasure of cracking the whip this time. Leave them clothed, but douse them with cold water.” She laughed wickedly. “I want their flesh cooled to the bone for the heating to come.” She glared back at Meav. “Let the rats have their fun with them for now."

  Carson bowed. “As you wish, my queen."

  Shell waited until the two guards had taken the prisoners away before he moved to Devora's side. Tenderly he took her hand, turning it over and kissing the palm. “You are trembling.” He searched her face. “What troubles you?"

  Devora looked away. “Go ... leave me ... I am tired and need rest."

  Shell cupped her chin, forcing her to look at him. “I will not be so easily dismissed."

  Devora's eyes blazed with anger. “Could it be you would like to join my guests?"

  The muscles at Shell's jaw throbbed. “Who is Meridith?"

  "None of this is any of your business,” Devora snapped.

  Shell pulled her close, both hands buried in the thickness of her dark hair. “What is my business?"

  She moistened her lips slowly. “To guard this keep, and on the nights I request your presence, to please my flesh."

  Shell's left brow raised a fraction. “Aha, let me get this straight ... ‘tis my business to caress your rosy tits ... suck them, bite them ... until they are round and hard."

  Devora squirmed in his arms. “Let me go."

  "Then lay you upon the bed, spread you wide and lick you, play with you, penetrate you,” he whispered in her ear.

  Devora could feel her loins grow wet. “Stop it!"

  Shell dug his fingers into her scalp. “But to ask why ‘tis you look as though you have seen a ghost ... is not my business?"

  Devora gritted her teeth. “I order you to remove your hands from my hair."

  Shell arched a brow. �
�As you wish, my queen.” His hands traveled down her back and to her buttocks. He squeezed each rounded cheek. “Is that more to your liking?"

  Devora stared wordlessly into his eyes, her heart pounding. He was so disturbing to her in every way ... and he knew it. “Release me immediately."

  He tightened his hold. “Nay ... not until you tell—"

  "There is nothing to tell,” she said.

  Shell moved his face closer. “Who is Meridith?"

  Even though her anger raged, Devora could not deny the spark of excitement she felt as his fingers caressed her backside. “Meridith is ... was ... my sister."

  Shell's voice held a huskier tone. “And what happened to her?"

  "She killed Queen Oneida and the king banished her from the island,” Devora lied.

  Shell moved his eyes boldly over her face. “I overheard the young maiden say Meridith was her mother?"

  Devora spoke with light bitterness. “You overheard correct."

  "Is this why you fear her?"

  Devora frowned. “I fear no one, do you understand ... no one.” She placed her hands upon the sentry's muscular chest and pushed away. “Now, I demand you free me this moment."

  Shell smiled sardonically. “Very well.” He released his hold. “You do not look well; perhaps you should get some rest before you pay a visit to your guests."

  Devora quickly grabbed for the banister to keep from falling backward. “I am fine, never felt better ... and by sunset I will have thoroughly enjoyed eliminating Keronia of them all."

  "Until tonight then.” Shell bowed politely. “Have a good afternoon, Your Majesty."

  Devora watched him leave, her stomach tied in knots, her hands shaking, and a sudden fatigue filling her. Slowly she made her way back up to her chamber.

  Once inside the confines of her room she made her way to the mirror. With the tip of a finger Devora traced the thin blue veins that had suddenly lined her neck. Dark circles were etched beneath her eyes. Shell was right, she did look tired.

  Quickly she went to the wardrobe and unlocked the secret compartment. Because Shell had been with her most of the morning, she had not been able to take a sip of the youth elixir; putting it off for later.

  Devora pulled out the velvet pouch and removed the vial, then closed her eyes and drank the sweet flavored potion, allowing its healing properties to slip down her throat ... make her young again. She would definitely have to brew more of the cherished treasure ... the bottle was nearly empty.

  * * * *

  Zailia's garments, cold and wet, clung to her flesh. She sat shackled to the wall, with hands bound above her head. The tight restraints cut through her wrists. The chains hung low, close to the stone floor, so she was unable to stand. This made the soaked clothes feel even colder. Turning her head to the left, she could see her father. Chained by his one arm, Tobiah sat trembling, his eyes shut, his face contorted with pain.

  "Papa,” she choked out. “Can you hear me?"

  Tobiah coughed and wheezed for several seconds before he could answer his daughter. “Aye ... I can."

  "'Tis so cold ... I fear for you ... Papa.” She stuck her leg out, her toes just able to reach his leg. Up and down she ran her foot. “If I could just warm you."

  Slowly Tobiah turned to look at her, a mixture of sadness and fear clouding his eyes. “It matters not what Devora has in store for me ... but to think of even one hair on your head harmed..."

  "Being wet and cold like this is not good for you, Papa."

  "Zailia, I am a warrior. ‘Twould take more than this to kill me,” he tried to reassure her.

  Zailia knew this was not true. Her father had been ailing for months and the treatment he now endured would definitely harm him. With resentment in her heart she glared over at Meav. “This is all your fault."

  "Zailia, hush,” Tobiah snapped.

  Zailia met her father's red-rimmed eyes. “I will not hush ... all this has something to do with her ... and her mother, Meridith.” Zailia pulled her legs beneath her. “I overheard her conversation with Devora.” Again Zailia looked over at Meav. “Why is Devora so concerned about your mother?"

  Meav's wet hair clung to her eyes and mouth. Tossing her head from side to side she managed to clear her view. “Me mother is Devora's sister ... the very sister she accused of killing the previous queen. Truth be told, Oneida died by Devora's hand."

  Zailia narrowed her eyes. “So Devora thinks you have come to avenge your mother's death?"

  "Aye ... and I have ... along with saving Rule and the rest of Keronia."

  Zailia laughed sardonically. “And how do you propose on doing that?"

  Tobiah rested his head back against the wall. “Have faith, daughter. Remember the legend of the leprechaun?"

  Zailia's heart skipped a beat. “Aye ... I do."

  Meav frowned. “I know nothing of the legend."

  Tobiah cleared his throat and quickly explained the tale to Meav. When finished he turned his eyes to Zailia. “And ‘tis our fault, not Meav's, that we are chained to these walls."

  Zailia frowned. “How is it our fault?"

  "I spoke of the legend not long ago to you and Ibrehem ... Devora's spies are everywhere. I have no doubt in my mind one of them overheard the tale, as well as our plan to escape to the temple, and retold all they learned to the queen. Devora, knowing she inherited the throne by her diabolical ways, began to fear Meav; thus using you to plot Meav's death.” Tobiah sighed. “We owe her an apology."

  Zailia turned sad eyes toward Meav. “I am sorry, Meav.

  "There is no apology needed ... we are in this together,” Meav said.

  Zailia's eyes grew teary. “What will happen to us now?"

  "I sent Titiana for Rule ... he will come ... I know he will,” Meav said.

  Zailia tried to wiggle her fingers, but they were numb. “Rule will die if he comes anywhere near the castle, ‘tis the way of Devora's curse."

  Meav stayed silent. She was not sure of the leprechaun fable, but she was certain of the Prophecy. Love will break the curse ... her love of her own accord for Rule and his love for her. But did he love her? In truth, he had thought she had come to kill him and wanted her banished from Keronia. Meav bit her bottom lip. Would her love be enough to keep Rule alive? It had to be, for his sake ... for their sake ... for Keronia.

  "Rule will come, and he will not die,” Meav blurted out. She would not let him die.

  Zailia shivered. “I pray you are right."

  Meav took a deep breath ... so did she!

  * * * *

  Rule sent Ibrehem to gather the men while he took a moment to sit silently in his cave to meditate. Before warring, a warrior had to ready himself ... clear his mind and focus only on the details of the battle. One quick swipe of the enemy's sword could be the end. A soldier had to be careful, alert, and his every move precise if he was to ride the fight to victory.

  Rule closed his eyes and took a cleansing breath. ‘Twasn't easy to rid his mind of the image of Meav at Devora's mercy, but essential if he was to save her. It had been so long since he was in combat ... held a sword ... led a mission.

  "You will do fine, strong warrior,” came a soft voice.

  Rule quickly opened his eyes to see Neteru and the two apprentices standing before him ... holding in their arms weapons and armor.

  Neteru nodded to each of her helpers, and simultaneously the women placed the items at Rule's feet.

  Rule looked down at the military garb, then up at the priestess. “How have you come by these things?"

  Neteru smiled warmly. “They belonged to your great, great-grandfather, Thaddeus Ruleton.” Neteru folded her hands before her. “Your mother, before her death, summoned me one night and asked me to save for you the gear that had been passed down in her family from generation to generation. She knew one day you would wage a battle that would save Keronia."

  Rule's eyes widened. “She, too, knew what was to come?"

  "Aye, ‘twas her gift,”
Neteru said. She reached out a hand to Rule. “Now stand, brave soldier, and let us dress you for combat."

  The apprentices slipped off Rule's linen tunic, replacing it with one made out of thick leather. Next, his sandals were removed and leather boots were placed upon his feet. A pair of steel greaves, made with an articulated knee piece for extra protection, was fashioned over the boots to protect his lower legs.

  The steel vam braces were nicely formed and lined with leather. The women strapped the arm guards onto his inner arm, accompanied by a pair of mail gauntlets. They were cupped with steel all around the cuffs to protect his hands, wrists, and lower arms from sword slashes or draw cuts.

  Neteru strapped on the leather Baldric across Rule's massive chest, the sheath for a sword hanging behind his right shoulder. “Your mother is with you now, my lord. Her spirit will guide and protect you."

  Rule admired the armor he was being dressed in, feeling close to his mother and all those that wore the suit into previous battles. “I feel her within me,” he whispered.

  Neteru first handed Rule the Schiavona. The basket protecting his hand and wrist was made of steel, and the cat's head pommel of brass. It was fitted with a double-edged blade made for utilizing the cut as the main combat tactic.

  Neteru brought Rules attention to the pearl encrusted handle. “Each pearl honors the tears of battle,” she explained. “And many were shed, for those who died; for those who were saved."

  Next the priestess gave Rule a domed buckler. It was smaller than a full sized shield and easier to use, enabling the warrior to move around quickly. The leather straps attached to the dome allowed for easy handling.

  "A swordsman armed with a Schiavona and buckler is hard to stand against,” Neteru said.

  One of the apprentices placed upon Rule's head the leather war helmet. “Go with caution, my lord,” she whispered.

  Rule's eyes blazed with the supremacy he felt surging through him. “'Tis power I need, woman ... only power."

  Neteru frowned. “At this moment I see your stubbornness as being more of a challenge than the fight ahead, Rule."

  Rule instantly bowed his head. “Forgive me, Priestess."