The Omaja Stone

by Jayla Jasso

  “Bring him before the queen!” the castle guard captain shouted as the massive doors swung open.

  They dragged him up the steps and inside. They were met in the foyer by Solange, who rushed to Jiandra and grabbed her hands.

  “My dear cousin! You’re alive, and you found the assassin! I was so worried when Logsdon and Brockriede returned, reporting they had gotten separated from you somewhere in the woods outside Caladia.”

  “Yes.” Jiandra was trembling, her heart pounding with hope of a pardon for Yajna. “Cousin, I must speak to you. Please do not allow them to do anything to this prisoner until I have had a chance to explain some things. It’s urgent.”

  Solange rubbed Jiandra’s fingers. “Your hands are freezing cold, and you’re trembling. What has happened? What has this villain done to you? It must have been awful.”

  Jiandra shook her head, fresh tears filling her eyes.

  Solange patted her arm comfortingly. “You’re upset.”

  “Townspeople were throwing rocks and screaming at us; I am very shaken. Please make the guards stand back.”

  Solange turned to the guards holding Yajna by the arms. “You two, bring him into the Great Hall. Everyone else, make way. Don’t crowd Jiandra. Give her some air.”

  The crowd parted, and Solange led the way into the assembly hall, pulling Jiandra with her. Yajna was forcibly escorted in behind them. Jiandra’s heart sank when she saw that the assembly was in session—the council advisors and several nobles had gathered, and there was practically an army of castle guards standing around the perimeter. She looked down and kept walking, following Solange to the throne platform. She stopped at the bottom of the steps and waited for the queen take her seat looking down on the assembly.

  Solange seated herself, and the hall fell silent. “Jiandra Stovy, my loyal friend and cousin, brings this Nandal captive to the assembly and declares that he is the assassin. Isn’t that so, Jiandra?”

  “Yes,” she choked, a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t want to make her case for Yajna in front of a huge audience of angry nobles and advisors.

  “How did you capture him, Jiandra?”

  Jiandra took a deep breath, forcing courage into her tone. “He was among a group of Nandal prisoners who were in a cart that fell into the river right in front of me as I traveled north on Caladian Road. I ran down to the carriage, got the prisoners out of the river, and later questioned the group,” she lied. “During this interrogation I discovered that he was the assassin.”

  “Are you certain he is the guilty one?”

  “I am.”

  “What are you called, Nandal?” Solange inquired.

  Yajna met her gaze steadily. “I am Yajna of the Zulfikars.”

  “Zulfikar? I know this name,” she said. “Who is your father?”

  “Varyn of the Zulfikars.”

  “That family is Nandalan royalty, is it not?”

  “Was, in times past.”

  Solange absorbed that information for a moment. “Do you confess to the crime of attempting to assassinate the queen of Villeleia?”

  “I do,” he replied evenly.

  Sir Barkley spoke up. “If I may, Your Majesty. I wish to establish this villain’s validity.” He turned to Yajna. “Can you describe the arrow that was shot at the queen?”

  “The shaft was made of birch. It was twenty-six inches long with an iridium head and peacock fletching.”

  Sir Barkley nodded to the queen. “That is the exact description.” He turned back to Yajna and demanded, “Who sent you to assassinate the queen?”

  “I do not know the client’s name. I was hired through a third party.”

  Jiandra broke in. “My Queen, if I may speak.”

  Solange looked at her. “Yes, Jiandra.”

  “I would humbly ask that you spare this man’s life.”

  A gasp rose up from the assembly, but she pressed on. “Upon questioning, he readily admitted to me that he was the assassin and demonstrated remorse. He came with me willingly and peaceably to be handed over to you. He says his arrow missed on purpose because he changed his mind when he saw you from the turret.”

  “Missed on purpose?” Sir Barkley interjected. “Are we to believe that rubbish?”

  Jiandra raised her voice a bit. “This man is a highly trained archer who had a clear shot that morning, Your Highness. I believe that he could have easily killed both of us if he had chosen to do so. Since there was no murder, he deserves imprisonment, but not death. And now that he has come forward to face his punishment, Villeleia can cease the detainment order, release the Nandal prisoners, and allow them to go back to their employers and their homes.”

  The council members protested angrily.

  Sir Barkley shouted over the din, “Release the Nandals? Never! March them back to Nandala!”

  His recommendation was echoed by loud cries of “Here, here!”

  Jiandra broke in. “These people are broken, terrified, and weak. They would die in the journey. And if any of them did survive, they would starve in Nandala’s wintery drought!”

  “That’s not our concern!” another council advisor called out. “Let Nandala take care of its own. They should never have come here in the first place. They are unlawful trespassers in our land.”

  Jiandra looked up at Solange, praying for compassion. Hoping upon hope for understanding and mercy.

  Solange raised a hand to shush the crowd. “Jiandra, it is the will of the citizens of Villeleia and the Royal Council that the Nandals be removed from our land. I cannot release the prisoners or retract the order to arrest and detain those trespassers who might still be at large.”

  Jiandra gasped, disbelieving. “What?”

  Sir Barkley spoke up firmly from behind her. “The Nandals will not be released.”

  She glared at him, then turned back to Solange. “Forgive my boldness, Your Highness, but I thought that the purpose of the detainment order was to search for the assassin! Here he is! Why should Villeleia persecute the innocent, the downtrodden? What harm have they done to us?”

  “There are too many of them living off the fat of our land,” Sir Barkley interjected. “Villeleia cannot afford to support so many poor, desperate foreigners.”

  Jiandra faced him angrily. “We are not supporting them; they work hard for their livings! They pick our fruit, harvest our crops, tend our animals! Sending them to die trying to traverse the Nandalan mountains on foot is not the will of all Villeleians. On my journey I met some farmers and landowners in County Broomfield who want them to stay. They rely on the Nandals to be able to produce their crops efficiently.” She scanned the faces of the men crowding the Great Hall, desperately looking for sympathetic expressions. “There must be some here who know I speak the truth, who agree with me.”

  A brave, lone voice from the back spoke up. “Lord Jenrick from County Rockrimmon, Miss Stovy. I agree with you, and so do many villagers and farmers in my region.”

  To Jiandra’s relief, another council member voiced his agreement with Jenrick. “Aye. Some farmers in Falcondell feel the same way.”

  “Farmers should be hiring Villeleians!” a council member yelled back at them from the front of the hall. Heated shouting ensued, loud calls for the removal of the Nandals.

  Jiandra glanced around at the angry throng, panic gripping her. She clutched the Omaja stone in her hand and turned back to Solange. “My queen, will you not help the poor, suffering people outside your gates?”

  “Jiandra, I understand that you pity these foreigners,” Solange replied. “But they chose to come here of their own accord, and now must face the consequences of their actions.”

  Jiandra pled with her. “How can we Villeleians sit by and watch while starving, barefoot, destitute women are being dragged through the streets in chains, holding their dead babies in their arms?”

  Solange rose to her feet, frowning. “I’m sorry, Jiandra, but the decision is made.” She addressed her guards. “Take thi
s prisoner to the dungeon. He shall be executed at dawn tomorrow.”

  “No!” Jiandra cried. “Please do not do this, Solange!”

  Solange’s face reddened, and she looked upset. “My decision is made. I shall not discuss it further.”

  Angry tears stung Jiandra’s eyes at her defeat. She couldn’t risk arguing with the queen any further in front of the council. She hated herself for backing down, but she didn’t know what else to do.

  “Take the prisoner away, guards.”

  Yajna held Jiandra’s gaze as the guards hauled him forcefully out of the assembly, giving her a slight nod and a hint of a smile in an effort to console her. Tears threatened, but she forcefully held them in check. Her only choice now was to find Yavi and try to break Yajna out of prison after nightfall.

  She gave Solange a curt bow. “With your permission, I will take my leave. My siblings have need of me at the farm.”

  Solange inclined her head stiffly, and Jiandra turned to rush out of the great hall, pushing through the crowd to escape.

  Brockriede stopped her in the foyer. “Miss Stovy, it’s good to see you alive and well. And you found the assassin after all. You’re quite the heroine.”

  “I’m no heroine, Brockriede.” She pushed past him, exited the castle doors, and ran down the steps. She found Otto and climbed into the saddle. She galloped out of the courtyard, heading through town toward the gate out of the city. Startled citizens, soldiers, and guards leapt out of her way in the streets. When she arrived at the city gate, there were several soldiers standing in front of it, blocking her exit.

  “Out of my way!” she screamed, continuing toward them at a gallop. They jumped out of the way as she rode through, heading for the spot where they had parted with Yavi in the woods. Before she got there, she was joined by Yavi on horseback, his hood low to hide his face. She motioned him to follow, and the two of them turned west on a path toward Cobbleton, riding hard through the countryside for a couple of miles. When they were a safe distance from Kingston, Jiandra ducked into the cover of some trees.

  “What happened in there?” he demanded as they reined their horses to a halt.

  Jiandra struggled to catch her breath. She swiped at the tears streaming down her face. “Solange refused to lift the detainment order against the Nandals. They plan to execute Yajna in the morning. We have to get him out tonight.”

  TWENTY

  Jiandra and Yavi rode over the stone bridge toward the cottage and arrived at Stovy Farm. Rafe was carrying a basket of apples from the barn when he spotted them. He dropped the fruit and screamed at the top of his lungs: “Jiandra!”

  Her heart leapt at seeing her baby brother again. Gracie and little Sirin and Kunjana came rushing out of the house to greet her joyfully in the front yard. Shirali emerged from the cottage as well, and Elio came out of the barn.

  “Jiandra! Jiandra!” Rafe shouted.

  She jumped down from Otto’s back to scoop her little brother up into her arms, kissing the top of his head affectionately.

  “Sister!” Gracie was next in line to hug her.

  Jiandra then hugged Elio. “Brother.”

  “We are so happy to see you home safe,” he beamed.

  Yavi threw his hood back and dismounted, and everyone’s curiosity turned to the leather-clad, silver-haired giant.

  “Who is this, sister?” Elio asked.

  “This is Yavi from Nandala. He is my friend.” She glanced up at him. “Yavi, these are my siblings, Elio, Graciella, and Rafe. Shirali is our housekeeper, and these two little ones are her children.”

  Yavi inclined his head stiffly to the group.

  Elio offered him a handshake. “Welcome.”

  Jiandra noticed Gracie staring up at Yavi’s stern face in awe. Like sister, like sister I suppose, she thought wryly. “Forgive Yavi’s serious mood,” she said. “We are deeply worried about his brother Yajna at the moment. In fact, we can’t dawdle for long—we have to formulate a plan to rescue him tonight.”

  “Rescue him from what?” Elio asked.

  “Elio, Yavi and I need to have a word with you alone. Shirali, Gracie, take the children inside to clean up and set an extra place for supper.”

  #

  Elio set a bottle of the previous year’s Stovy Farm wine on an upside-down barrel in the barn, opened it, and poured them each a cup. “Jiandra, we knew you were coming home today. The wisewoman visited us yesterday and gave us the news that we would see you before nightfall, and that you were not traveling alone.” He chuckled and glanced at Yavi, raising his cup. “To Jiandra arriving home safely, and to you, friend, if you had something to do with that.”

  Yavi remained silent, but raised his cup to Elio and drank.

  Elio turned to Jiandra. “Zafira said to give you a message.”

  She sipped the wine, delighting in its familiar taste and aroma. “What was it?”

  “She said that you must visit her tonight, that she had something to give you that you would need. She said it was urgent.”

  “Perhaps it will help us free Yajna, Yavi’s brother. Which brings me to my story, Elio. Please hear me out. I know you will understand once you have all the facts.”

  She had recounted the events since she’d left home to search for the assassin up to the moment Solange ordered Yajna’s execution when Gracie’s head appeared around the door to the barn.

  “Supper’s ready,” she called sweetly, staring at Yavi.

  Jiandra rose to her feet, taking full note of the look in her sister’s eyes. Yes, I know he is a gorgeous sight, but calm down. She grasped her younger sister’s arm and pulled her toward the house. Gracie’s head remained craned in Yavi’s direction.

  “Stop staring, little bug-eyes!” Jiandra whispered to her, and they both giggled and hurried inside.

  #

  Gracie and Shirali served up a steaming pot of delicious stew with home-grown leeks, potatoes, carrots, parsnips, celery, and lentils seasoned with thyme and marjoram. Jiandra savored every bite of it along with her sister’s fresh-baked sourdough bread. After supper, Gracie and Jiandra washed dishes while Shirali cleaned the counters and floors in the kitchen.

  “Jiandra!” Gracie glanced over her shoulder toward the door to the sitting room, where the men were sitting by the fireplace watching the children play marbles on the woven rug. “Your friend is so…nice.”

  Jiandra smiled. Nice? Yavi had hardly said a word during dinner, his face a grim mask. “He is too old for you, little miss. And since when did you start noticing boys?”

  Gracie scowled. “I’ve been noticing boys since I was nine, just so you know. And I’m not a child. I’ll be fourteen in March.”

  Jiandra replaced her mother’s large soup tureen on a high shelf. “Well, they are twenty-five.”

  “They?”

  “He has an identical twin.”

  “There’s another one?”

  “Yes, if you can imagine it.”

  “Oh, I can imagine it. Can’t I have at least one of them?”

  Jiandra popped her with a wet towel, and Gracie yelped. Jiandra hung the towel on a nail, left her sister and Shirali to finish up, and joined the men in the other room.

  She touched her little brother’s hair. “Rafe, take Sirin and Kunjana upstairs to wash up for bed.”

  When the children were gone, she sank down into a chair near Elio. “Yavi, we need a plan. I want to go with you. I need to see him freed and safe.”

  He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his leather-clad knees. “We’ll go in after midnight, when the guards are sluggish and sleepy. I can get us over the castle walls and past the guards with no problem.”

  “I’m no good at climbing walls,” she cautioned.

  “I’ll carry you on my back.”

  “Won’t my weight slow you down, make it harder for you to climb and slip past the guards?”

  His gaze traveled over her form. “You must weigh practically nothing. I was forced to haul much more weight on my back t
han you during training, trust me. I’m strong.”

  Jiandra glanced at his well-developed arms and chest. “All right.”

  “If we are discovered, Yajna and I can fight off several men, and we’ll keep you out of the fray. We won’t let you be hurt.”

  “No need to worry about that—no one can hurt me as long as I wear the Omaja. If you and Yajna need to make a run for your lives, go ahead. The guards cannot physically harm me, and I believe that Solange would spare my life if they arrest me. But how will you get Yajna out of his cell?”

  “I’ll slip Yajna a lockpick. He’s a master at picking locks.”

  “This sounds dangerous, sister,” Elio interjected. “Why not let Yavi go take care of this alone?”

  “I’ll be fine, Elio. Zehu will protect me, and I want to be able heal Yavi and his brother if they get injured. I am part of the reason Yajna is in there and…I want to see him before he goes.”

  “My brother and I will die before we allow harm to come to your sister,” Yavi assured him.

  “Yavi, I need to make a short visit to see Zafira before we return to the castle. I’m sure that whatever she has to give me will be of use in our task.”

  He nodded. “I’ll go with you, Mahitha. My brother wishes me to remain by your side and protect you as he would have done.”

  #

  The stars were out as Jiandra and Yavi rode through the woods to Zafira’s secluded cottage. They could see lamplight glowing through her small windows as they approached, and her door opened when they halted their horses and dismounted.

  Zafira stood in the doorway to greet them. “Come in, Jiandra. I have been eager to see you again.”

  “Zafira, it is good to see you.” Jiandra grasped her hands in her own. “This is my friend Yavi.”

  Zafira’s friendly brown eyes surveyed his face. “Welcome, Son of Zulfikar.”

  Yavi registered only a flicker of surprise that she knew who he was. He ducked his head to follow Jiandra inside Zafira’s cottage.

  The warm kitchen smelled pleasantly of cinnamon and sandalwood. Zafira motioned them to sit at her small table. “Yavi, I know that your brother is in danger and we don’t have much time to chat, so I will be brief. Jiandra, I summoned you because I received a message from the Old Gods in a dream to make something for you. I have been busy at work sewing it since the day after we met.”