Sapphire

by Sarah Olson

  By early morning, I reached the top of what looked like a pass. The mountain peaks towered far above me and the expanse of snow stretched far beyond. I was exhausted and my knees quivered at the sight of what lay before me. My limbs felt frozen and my lips were dry and cracked. I pulled the scarf up to cover my mouth and began to plow through the pass. The snow was deep and soft. At times, I was up to my knees in it. My stomach rumbled loudly as hunger hit me. I tried to go on farther but I stopped at the thought of the child growing within me. I leaned up against an icy boulder and sat. Inside the bag, I found fruits that were half frozen and forced down an apple followed by a piece of bread. It was all I could have for now if I expected to last on it for a few days. However, it only took one look into the bag to know there was not enough.

  I looked up into the gray sky accepting for the first time I might not make it off the mountains. King Luther’s men were right—survival was impossible. But I had to try, because giving up would not kill just me, it would kill my child.

  I found a shallow cave and forced myself to sleep for a few hours. When I woke, I pushed myself to my feet and continued onward. Time passed slowly as the wind howled by me and when the sky darkened with night, the first snowflakes floated down. I watched with a sense of dread as the wind picked up announcing the arrival of a snowstorm. The wind blew the snow into my eyes but I tried to ignore it and pushed my way through the pass. I searched carefully for a place to wait out the storm and found a cave after about an hour. I pushed some of the snow out to make an area I could sleep in. The thought of a crackling fire warmed my spirit and I opened the bag looking for the flint, but as I pulled it out, it occurred to me that I did not have anything to burn. I squinted out into the storm hoping to spot a tree, but to my dismay, there was nothing but snow and rock. I pressed my back against the cave’s cold wall and nibbled on some bread to calm my stomach.

  The wind continued its angry howl through the night. I curled up in a ball using the bag as a pillow and tried to sleep. My body shivered uncontrollably. When sleep came to me, I fell into a new world of nightmares.

  I watched Robert’s death repeatedly and relived the pain of Richard’s abandonment. Suddenly, I found myself standing in the sitting room of the old castle. I heard people outside the castle screaming and yelling. The door to the room swung open and Queen Aria burst in with tears streaming down her beautiful face. Four guards followed and bolted the door behind them.

  “They killed him!” she cried, falling to her knees. “The king is dead!”

  I tried to run to her, but my muscles were paralyzed.

  “That bastard Luther has taken everything from me,” she growled. “My people, my happiness, my love . . . my daughter.” She went over to a small table and pulled out two daggers. “Let them come!” she yelled, as the guards pushed the door with all their might trying to keep the invaders out. “Let them come,” she whispered menacingly again. She turned her head to me with a fire blazing in her green eyes, the same green that stared back at me in the mirror each morning. “We cannot let them win,” she said as they destroyed the door and Luther’s men converged on the guards and my mother.

  “No!” I screamed reaching out to her when my eyes flickered open.

  I was not in the old castle—I was in a cave. My body shook as I tried to rise.

  The snow was no longer falling but the wind was still howling.

  We cannot let them win, the wind hissed in my ear.

  I blinked trying to clear my head. Did I just hear that? They were the last words my mother had said to me in the dream, words full of the encouragement I needed. I rose to my feet unsteadily and slung the bag over my shoulder. It was time to move on.

  As the hours passed, the sky hid the sun. I repeated the words from the dream in my mind trying to keep myself moving. I was haunted by exhaustion and fatigue. My legs protested painfully as I pulled them through the deep snow. Dismay filled me as my pace slowed. I ate some more frozen bread trying to get what warmth was left in my body to spread. I melted snow in my mouth for hydration but it seemed to only freeze me more. The bottom of my riding dress was completely soaked through and my boots no longer provided the warmth and protection my feet needed. My coat could not keep me warm no matter how tightly I pulled it around me. I was not going to make it. I was going to freeze before I made it halfway.

  As the sky began to darken, my legs gave out and I collapsed. My frozen face landed into the soft powdery snow. I tried to lift myself and continue moving but found it impossible. I lay there trying to think of all the happy times I had in my life as the wind blew overhead relentlessly. I tried to imagine what my life would have been like if my parents had not been killed. My thoughts dwelled on Betsy and how it would break her heart when she learned she had lost me as well. The last thought that crossed my mind was an apology. It was meant for my unborn child that never stood a chance. Black dots began to fill my vision and I slipped into unconsciousness.

  Chapter 17

  WARMTH SURROUNDED ME when my mind woke from the inky darkness that had taken it. Was I still alive? I opened my eyes and stared up at the solid rock ceiling. It had an orange flickering tint like that of a fire. My hearing came back to me slowly and I heard men laughing.

  My stomach growled as the smell of freshly cooked meat filled my nostrils. I shifted to try and see the men without drawing attention.

  “Hey, I think she’s awake!” one of them exclaimed.

  I froze in terror and did not tear my eyes away from the ceiling. Were these King Luther’s soldiers? No, they could not be. If they were, they would have killed me as soon as I was in their sights.

  Sounds of a man rising and walking towards me pulled me from my thoughts.

  “Well look at that,” he said. “She is!”

  He was an older man with a long gray beard. Despite his rough appearance, his blue eyes were kind and smiled back at me.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, reading the fear in my expression. “We aren’t going to hurt you. In fact, we saved you! What’s your name?”

  “Layla,” I whispered hesitantly, my voice hoarse.

  “Layla,” he said, smiling. “Now what exactly are you doing in Avalanche Pass? Pretty bad time of year to be up here—unless you’re prepared, that is.”

  “I was trying to get to Malan,” I whispered.

  “Malan?” he asked. “Why take the mountains when the road is so much easier?”

  I did not answer,

  “What were you going to do in Malan?”

  “Are you from there?” I did not know how much I could tell him without putting myself in any more danger.

  “Maybe.”

  “I—I’m looking for a friend. Charlotte . . .” I stammered, finding it was the safest answer I could give.

  “Livingston?” he asked, suddenly growing very serious.

  “Yes,” I answered nervously. “You know her?”

  The men around the fire were abruptly quiet and listening intently.

  “Were you traveling alone?” he asked, ignoring my question.

  I pushed myself up, moving the blankets away from me. They had done their job and I was very warm now. I wondered how long I had been out when I caught the man’s stare at my chest. He gawked and the men around the fire did as well. I looked back at him and saw the reflection of my sapphire in his eyes. I clamped my hand down over it and hid it under my coat but it was too late, they had all seen it.

  “Bless the stars,” he whispered. Then he dropped to his knees and bowed his head. “We are honored, your Highness.”

  The other men followed in suit. There was no hesitation. They all recognized the necklace.

  “There is no need to bow,” I finally got out. “Please.”

  “Forgive me, your Highness,” he said, raising his head. “I am Sir Alexander Robinson and these are my men. We are a loyal people to the true king and queen of Asteria. Please allow us to guide you the rest of the way to Malan.”

  I had never been
treated with such respect before. Within seconds, I was transformed from the lost girl to a princess.

  “Thank you,” I said. “But please don’t call me your Highness. I’m just getting used to all this and would rather be called by my name, Layla.”

  “As you wish, Princess Layla,” he replied.

  It was a start.

  “Would you like something to eat?” he asked.

  “Yes! I’m starving,” I exclaimed.

  They watched me in silence as I hungrily swallowed the food they gave me. I did not even question what it was. At this moment, anything was delicious.

  “Princess,” Sir Alexander asked when I finished. “What were you doing alone on the mountains? Had we not found you, you would have been dead.”

  Sadness suddenly overwhelmed me as I thought of Robert. “We weren’t planning on taking the Avalanche Pass,” I whispered, looking down into my hands. “But King Luther’s men found us and we had to choose between the road and the mountains. As soon as we began to climb, they killed him and I had to continue alone.”

  “Killed who?” he asked.

  I did not want to talk anymore so I did not answer. They didn’t prod me but when they realized I was not going to speak again, Sir Alexander told me I’d better lay down and get some more rest. I graciously complied and fell into a deep sleep.

  “Princess,” a voice said, as I was gently shaken.

  I slowly opened my eyes and let them adjust to the sunlight that poured into the cave.

  “It’s about time we get moving,” Sir Alexander said.

  I walked out of the cave slowly on stiff legs and greeted the sunlight. The snow glittered as the sun’s rays danced across the white expanse. Had I not been running for my life and had Robert not been killed, I would have been able to appreciate the mountain’s beauty.

  We set off immediately. They slowed their pace for me and Sir Alexander never left my side. I kept quiet for the journey except for the occasional yes and no answer to if I was hungry or tired. If any of the men complained, I did not hear them.

  By midday, we began our descent. The thin air began to thicken the closer we got to the forest. We stopped a little more than halfway down to rest. Sir Alexander told the men to create a schedule for everyone, except me, to keep watch. I slept soundly feeling safe in the company of rebel soldiers—at least that was what I assumed they were.

  The next morning, two men were sent out ahead as scouts to make sure we were clear of soldiers. Sir Alexander took my necklace, despite my protests, and hid it. He said it was for precaution. Luther’s men would recognize it if I had it on. We had finally reached the mountain base when one of the scouts returned.

  “Sir!” he exclaimed. “They are watching the road to Malan.”

  “I heard the soldier’s commander tell them to patrol the base to make sure I never made it off,” I said. I wanted to kick myself for forgetting.

  “Why didn’t you mention this earlier?” Sir Alexander asked tensely.

  “Forgive me, sir,” I said, “it slipped my mind.”

  He nodded and then turned to the scout. “Did you see any patrols other than the one on the road?”

  “No, sir,” the scout answered. “Only on the roads.”

  “Which means they aren’t too concerned with you making it down,” Sir Alexander said to me. “We’ll take the long way around, men! Keep your eyes and ears open and your weapons close. We cannot afford them getting to the princess.”

  I felt my stomach churn. How could these men who didn’t know me, didn’t know how I had shamed myself, risk their lives for mine?

  We moved on quickly, keeping to the shadow of the mountains. We were more cautious now and on the lookout for the enemy. There was a close call when we heard a soldier galloping about half a mile parallel to us through the trees, but not once were we spotted. By nightfall, we had made it safely across the Malanese border. Sir Alexander told the men to make camp because we were still about a half a day’s hike to the village since we had to go around.

  My insides twisted nervously as I thought about the village. I feared the people would reject me when they became aware of what I had done.

  “Don’t worry, milady,” Sir Alexander said, spotting the fear on my face. “The people will love you.”

  “Can’t exactly speak for the general though,” another man scoffed.

  My eyes widened and I stared at the two of them questioningly.

  Sir Alexander sighed and shook his head. “Give him some slack, Erik,” he said. “He is young and trying to live up to his father’s legacy. It’s just sometimes he’s a little harsher than he means to be.”

  Erik laughed softly, turning a slab of meat over the fire.

  With that knowledge, I barely slept a wink the entire night. Instead, I just stared up through the web of leafless branches into the clear night sky listening to the hoot of a nearby owl. Thousands of stars glittered in the velvet heavens. A sudden bright shooting star shot across them, and I wished someday I would find happiness again.

  ☐☐☐☐

  Malan was much hillier than Asteria. The trees were taller and thicker. The snow and ice that covered ground made it difficult for me to keep my balance with my aching feet and legs. I slipped quite of few times but someone was always there to catch me. On the last leg of the journey my exhaustion was so evident, Sir Alexander put his arm around me and guided me over the frozen Glacier River and to the village beyond. Smoke rose lazily over the trees as we neared it and without warning, the forest opened up into a very large clearing, housing the first of the Rebel Villages.

  There were small homes in rows as well as little shops. Farther in the back, there were tents. I looked at them curiously.

  “It’s for rebel soldiers,” Sir Alexander said when he noticed my gaze. “The camp consists of all the soldiers in training. The general’s main headquarters is in the center tent. They prefer to use tents in case they have to vacate quickly.”

  I nodded.

  As we neared the first of the town’s buildings, the whole place came to life. Children played in the snow while men shoveled it from the road. Women walked together sharing the latest gossip and shop owners’ voices drifted from their shops as they tried to convince customers to buy their latest merchandise. The only thing I found much different from Eagle’s Nest was the people. Some had much darker skin than anyone I had ever seen. I knew the Malanese were known for their dark skin and dark hair, but never had I met one. As we walked down the streets, everything seemed to stop and the villagers could not take their eyes off me. I stared at the ground as Sir Alexander led me through the village. Two men armed with swords watched us from the porch of a tavern.

  “Where’s the general?” Sir Alexander asked them.

  “Command tent,” one answered, eyeing me suspiciously. “He’s been in a meeting with Sir Raphael.”

  “Thank you, Davorin,” Sir Alexander answered, tipping his head.

  Davorin nodded and I could feel his eyes on us as we walked away.

  We took to an alley that led us to the tents. Two men stood guard in front of the largest of the tents.

  “The general doesn’t want any visitor’s,” one of them said to us.

  “Trust me, this is one he would not want to pass up,” Sir Alexander said.

  “Is that Sir Alexander?” a man’s voice called from within.

  “Yes, sir,” the guard answered. “He is here with his men and a girl.”

  “Let them in,” the voice said again.

  “Erik,” Sir Alexander said. “Go find Charlotte Livingston.”

  “Yes, sir,” Erik replied.

  Sir Alexander led me in through the flap in the tent.

  “Sir Alexander, it’s good to see you alive,” the man in the tent said, not even looking at me. “Our patrols told us King Luther’s men were watching the road. I do hope they did not interfere with the building of our beacons.”

  He stood tall with broad shoulders and looked to be in his
early twenties. His skin was tanned from the sun’s rays and his brown hair was short with a soft wave.

  “Yes, we saw them,” Sir Alexander said. “That’s why we took longer. We had to go around. But you have nothing to worry about, Sir; the beacons have been built.”

  The man nodded and looked at me, waiting for an explanation. His blue eyes were as clear as a mountain spring, but as cold as ice.

  The hairs on the back of my neck rose when his eyes met mine. How was it possible for such a young man to illicit so much fear with a single glance? I looked away and almost jumped when I spotted a wolf lying in the corner of the tent. It lifted its head and stared at me with its fire-like eyes.

  “Don’t mind him,” the man said, sensing my fear.

  “Sir, this is Layla,” Sir Alexander said, handing him my necklace.

  The man stared down at the necklace in disbelief. “Princess Layla?” he asked.

  I nodded avoiding his eyes.

  He motioned me to have a seat. As I did, I heard Charlotte’s voice outside the tent.

  “Let me in!” she said, pushing her way through the guards. “Layla!” she exclaimed, hugging me tightly. “You’re here!”

  “Yes,” I replied with a smile.

  “Forgive me, General Hamilton,” Charlotte said, turning to the man with my necklace.

  He nodded and she stood behind me.

  “Leave us,” he said to the men who had followed Sir Alexander into the tent.

  I kept a wary eye on the wolf as they exited.

  General Hamilton walked over to me and put the sapphire into my hand. It began to glow and I heard Charlotte gasp behind me.

  “So you’re the princess,” he said, watching the glowing stone. “What are you doing here?”

  “What do you mean—” Sir Alexander began but was hushed with a wave of General Hamilton’s hand.

  “What he means,” began another man I had not noticed, “is, what is she doing here now? It’s ahead of schedule.”