The Carnelian Tyranny: Savino’s Revenge

by Cheryl Koevoet

  Alessio and Mark bid them goodnight and retreated upstairs to bed. Arrie nodded hastily to her before exiting through the front door to walk to the waiting carriage.

  “Do you even want to marry me?” Darian asked her sadly when they were alone.

  “You know I do. I can’t imagine my life without you!” Her heart wrenched in pain. She’d never seen him so melancholy and devoid of hope; it was so unlike him.

  “Then I do not understand your reasoning.”

  “I just wish you could try to see things from my perspective…”

  “Believe me, I am trying very hard to see things from your perspective—”

  “Listen to me,” she pleaded. “I’ve had a lot to absorb and so many adjustments to make in such a short time that, sometimes, I feel like I’m going to burst. Everything has just been dumped on me, and I’m feeling very overwhelmed right now. And to top it all off, now I have to worry about the bounties on all of our heads. You of all people should understand the challenges I’m facing.”

  “Why can we not face them together?”

  She smoothed down her dress, averting his gaze. “We should postpone this discussion for some other day when we’re not so tired. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

  Darian nodded, pecking her cheek gently. “Good night.”

  “Night, Darian.”

  He opened the door and hurried out to the carriage where Arrie waited. As it drove off into the night, a shiver of guilt rippled down her spine. She never wanted to hurt anyone, least of all Darian. But she needed more time to adjust to the expectations being piled on top of her.

  She closed the front door and blew out the candles in the vestibule as she made her way back to the living room. The house seemed so quiet and empty compared to earlier in the evening. Jackson’s little legs moved quickly as he ran over to where she sat, his tail wagging back and forth.

  Scooping him up into her arms, she sat thoughtfully for a moment, waiting for him to settle down into her lap. She spotted the gold choker on the table that Darian had given her and picked it up, admiring the way the rubies sparkled in the firelight. The man of her dreams wanted to marry her as soon as possible, so what was she waiting for? She couldn’t justify her reasons to herself, let alone anyone else.

  She laid the ruby choker back down on the table and glanced down at Eman’s amulet still around her neck. The dark purple stone dimmed and glowed, as if it was lit from the inside. She lifted her mother’s ring up next to it and noticed that the two stones pulsated together in perfect unity. Eman had said that the stone in the amulet had been cut from an Ambrogia shard, the same type of stone in her mother’s ring. She made a mental note to ask Darian about it in the morning.

  Feeling exhausted, she extinguished the flames of the oil lamps on the tree and blew out the last of the candles. She trudged up the stairs with Jackson prancing and bobbing behind her, still full of energy. The jewel around her neck pulsated with its lavender glow, illuminating the hallway all the way down to her bedroom.

  CHAPTER 14

  AMBUSH

  Deep into the night, Marisa tossed and turned under the blankets, unable to fall asleep. Her mind raced as she constantly replayed the conversation with Darian, unable to forget the sullen look on his face when she told him she wasn’t ready to marry him.

  Not wanting to disturb the sleeping puppy, she rolled over slowly onto her side. Jackson dozed happily from his spot next to her on top of the bed, his little body rising and falling with each contented breath he took.

  As she lightly stroked his soft fur and watched him sleeping soundly, tears brimmed in her eyes. Darian knew she would be lonely at Beauriél and had generously thought to give her a dog. His compassion towards others was one of the things she loved most about him. She didn’t deserve someone like him.

  Suddenly Jackson was awake. His little head popped up, his ears turning to listen in all directions.

  Sensing something was amiss, Marisa sat up in bed. She strained to listen to the low rumbling of thunderstorms rolling across the sky. But as the rumbling sound grew louder and closer, she realized that it was not thunder, but hundreds of horses’ hooves galloping down the grind driveway.

  In a flash, Jackson jumped onto the window sill, barking frantically at something in front of the house. A man’s muffled scream erupted from the darkness, causing Marisa to stumble out of bed to the window and peer out.

  In the pale moonlight, she saw at least a hundred warriors dismounting to swarm the area in front of the house. One of them reached for a bow he had been carrying on his back and proceeded to shoot an arrow into the chest of an approaching Beauriél guard.

  She clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her scream and ran into the corridor, bumping into Mark and her uncle just outside her door.

  “What’s going on?” Mark whispered loudly.

  “We’re under attack!” Alessio exclaimed.

  “Quick! Follow me!” she said, racing back into her closet.

  Her heart was pounding wildly as she pulled two coats from their hangers and grabbed the two largest sets of shoes she could find. Shoving them into Mark’s and Alessio’s arms, she whispered loudly, “Put these on! Hurry!”

  As they slipped into the coats, there was a loud, steady banging on the front door.

  “But how do we get out?” Alessio shouted at her. “They’ll be inside any minute now!”

  “Look—Darian showed me a secret passageway!” They watched in amazement as she pulled the rug on the closet floor away, revealing the secret exit. She lifted up the hatch, pointing down into the shaft.

  “Of course!” Alessio said excitedly. “I’d completely forgotten about it!”

  She nodded firmly. “Climb down and follow the tunnel out to the end. There you’ll find a ladder that exits under the pavilion back in the forest. From there, make your way back to the city but stay off the road. Go get Darian! Now hurry!”

  “What about you?” Alessio implored, raising his voice above the din of Jackson’s bark. There was a loud bang downstairs followed by men’s shouts, telling them that the front door had been breached. Multiple sets of heavy footsteps pounded up the stairs and started down the hall.

  “Go—now!” she urged, motioning to Mark.

  He quickly climbed down the ladder out of sight, but her uncle hesitated. “I’m not going without you!” Alessio whispered loudly.

  “Don’t wait for me—just get Mark out! That’s an order!” She pushed him down into the hole, watching as he finally disappeared into the darkness.

  Hearing footsteps in the hallway, she realized that it was too late for her to follow them and lunged forward to close the hatch, straightening the rug back into place. She searched the dressing chamber for a place to hide, but it was too late.

  The intruder was already in her bedroom.

  One of Savino’s ten-foot warriors stood next to her bed, his head ducked to avoid hitting the ceiling. His flame torch reflected off his bronze breastplate, casting an eerie light around the darkened chamber. He threw the covers back, searching around and under the bed as Jackson continued to bark wildly at him.

  Ignoring the pup, he moved to check every inch of her bedroom, growing impatient when he found nothing. He walked over to the closet and peered in, extending his torch to inspect each and every corner.

  Her body trembled with fear as she squatted down at the rear of the dark closet, hiding in plain sight. She watched the ugly warrior rifle through her dresses, his broken nose ruining what she imagined had probably once been a halfway decent profile. His reddish, shaggy hair was unkempt under his helmet and most of his bulk was the result of vigorous eating rather than through hard work and exercise. His beady, menacing eyes scanned the breadth of the wardrobe chamber until they finally rested on her face.

  She shrunk back in fear, bracing herself for the blow that was sure to follow.

  Mark hurried down the passageway, unable to see his way in the darkness. “Where’s Marisa? Isn’
t she behind you?”

  “No—she closed the hatch behind me so they wouldn’t find the passageway, brave girl.” Alessio’s footsteps padded against the slabs of stone. “Hurry, Mark.”

  “Oww! I just hit something.” He glanced up and saw a thin sliver of light. “This must be the way out!”

  Climbing the steps, Mark reached the trap door in less than a minute. As he lifted the heavy plank, a blast of icy air hit his face. After the pitch darkness of the tunnel, the light of the moon was bright as it bounced off the thick layer of fresh snow.

  Emerging cautiously from under the pavilion, Mark’s eyes scanned the forest. “Which direction?” he whispered.

  “Toward Crocetta—this way,” Alessio said, pointing.

  The warrior’s eyes met Marisa’s, but they didn’t stop on hers, continuing instead their thorough sweep of the closet. She froze, her brain scrambling to think of a way out.

  “Did you find anything?” a voice shouted from the hallway.

  “No, sir, but they must be here somewhere,” the warrior with the broken nose replied, moving away from the closet. “The bed is still warm and the dog is here.”

  He looked right at me, but he didn’t see me.

  “Well, even if they managed to escape, they will not get far in the snow. Search the forest and track them down—now!”

  “Yes, sir!” the warrior answered, saluting hastily before marching out of the room.

  The other man looked around the bedchamber one last time before moving on to search the other rooms, releasing an angry shout each time they found nothing. Through it all, Jackson continued to bark at the intruders, following them down the corridor and bravely defending his mistress still crouching on the floor of the closet.

  Minutes later, the remaining men hurried back down the stairs and exited through the front door, leaving it open and causing a cold draft of wind to blow up the stairwell.

  With a rush of adrenaline coursing through her body, Marisa listened to the sound of hoof beats retreating back up the driveway and emerged cautiously from the closet. She prayed for Mark and her uncle, hoping they would safely reach the castle to warn Darian.

  Peering out the window into the dark of night, she didn’t see a single person. The men and horses that had been out in front of the house were now gone. She moved to the doorway and peeked down the hall.

  Nothing.

  Jackson was no longer barking, in fact, she couldn’t hear him anywhere. She quickly searched the bedrooms, softly calling his name. A feeling of panic welled up inside her the longer she looked but couldn’t find him.

  Oh, please, let nothing bad happen to Jackson!

  All at once, the gravity of the situation hit her head on. After they had searched the grounds but had not found her, they would come back to check the house again. She had to get out of there while she still could. But what about Jackson? Even if she found him, he might bark while she was trying to escape and give her away.

  Torn by the thought of leaving the puppy behind, she hastily pulled on some socks and boots and threw her cloak around her shoulders. She opened the hatch, turning carefully and placing her feet on the rungs of the ladder, slowly moving downwards. Once her head was clear of the opening, she lowered the hatch back down while trying to cover it with the rug as best she could.

  Muttering a prayer of safety under her breath, she descended into the cold darkness until her feet touched solid ground. The amulet she wore emanated the tiniest bit of light. It wasn’t much, but just enough to help her see where she was going. With its soft lavender glow to light her path, she moved down the tunnel much faster this time.

  Reaching the other end, she scaled the iron ladder and raised the trap door cautiously. Holding the hatch open just a crack, she searched the forest, but saw nothing. The eerie landscape was strangely illuminated by moonlight reflecting off the thick layer of fallen snow.

  She pushed the panel aside and crawled out, amazed at what had accumulated on the ground in the few short hours since the party. Replacing the wood panel once again, she spotted two large sets of footprints heading east, back toward Crocetta. Deciding it would not be wise to head in the same direction that Mark and her uncle had gone, she jogged off to the west, flitting between the cover of the trees to hide her movements.

  When she heard heavy boots crunching through the snow just a hundred or so feet behind her, she stopped, her mind frozen in terror. She glanced around her, searching for anywhere to hide. Spotting none, she pulled herself up onto the nearest tree branch and gained her footing, climbing higher and higher until she was at least twenty or so feet off the ground.

  Breathing heavily from the sudden burst of exertion, she peered down at her tracks on the ground far below, hoping that whoever had been chasing her would not see them. She clung to the trunk and leaned out, suddenly spotting an enormous warrior standing almost directly beneath her.

  He was hunched over the snow, staring at something on the ground. But when she shifted slightly, the branch creaked under her weight. At the sound, he straightened up and glanced around, searching suspiciously for any sign of movement. She winced, fighting the urge to panic before slowly leaning back toward the trunk and praying he wouldn’t see her.

  As he lifted his gaze into the tree and stared at her with a puzzled look on his face, she froze in terror. But then she realized that he was watching the steam of her breath floating like a ghost through the air. She clapped her hand over her mouth, hugging the tree even tighter.

  The warrior removed his metal helmet and cocked his head at her. Seeing a glint of gold in his mouth, she gasped, recognizing the same brute who had threatened her months ago after she’d been chased out of the Mychen Forest by the rijgen.

  Deimos.

  He unsheathed his sword, appearing as if he was about to strike at the tree. But before he could, another warrior suddenly rushed over, diverting his attention from the branch where she was precariously perched.

  “Sir, we have found something.”

  His sword flashed in the moonlight as he turned to the soldier impatiently. “Well, what is it?”

  “Footprints in the snow, sir. Three sets.”

  “Can you tell where they are headed?”

  “One set went off in this direction, but then it stopped suddenly. Perhaps one of our men apprehended someone here.”

  “Idiot!” Deimos shouted. “If that were true, there would be at least two sets and some sign of a struggle!”

  “Indeed.” The warrior hesitated, considering his point. “Uh, the other two sets lead back toward the city.”

  “They are trying to warn the castle. Track them down!”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Deimos muttered something to himself, stalking off toward Beauriél while the soldier headed off in the direction of Crocetta.

  Watching them silently move away, Marisa exhaled a sigh of relief, relaxing her grip on the tree. She would freeze to death if she stayed outside much longer, and she knew they would find her once it got light. There might still be time to warn her family before the warriors attacked the citadel; she only hoped that it wasn’t too late.

  She rested her cheek against the rough bark of the tree, feeling utterly helpless. How would she ever make it out of this mess alive? Nothing she had learned at school had prepared her for this type of situation. One girl against an entire army of giants was hopeless. A lost cause.

  Suddenly, something that Cozimo had mentioned in one of her lessons popped into her mind. On Carnelia, the true ruler of the heavens was revered by an extraordinary name, Garon.

  Roughly translated, it meant ‘supreme guardian’. The very same Guardian and protector that her parents had worshipped could guard and protect her now. All she needed to do was pray.

  Garon, please give me wisdom and courage to escape from these men. Guard Mark and Uncle Al tonight, and keep us all safe. Be my guide back to the castle so that I can warn the others. Please don’t let us die at the hands of these men this ni
ght…

  She opened her eyes when a gust of wind stirred up around her, lifting her nightdress up to reveal the smooth band of leather strapped securely around her thigh. Darian had told her to wear her grandfather’s dagger on her all the time, even at night. She was so used to the weapon strapped around her leg that it had become a part of her. Fingering the sheath of the knife, she was thankful for a way to defend herself should it be necessary.

  As the cold seeped into all her extremities, she tried to gather enough courage to get away before the warriors returned to scour the entire area at first light. She climbed down to the lowest branch just a few feet off the ground and jumped.

  Cold snow brushed against her exposed ankles, chilling them as she headed off in a westerly direction through the forest. Running as fast as her legs could carry her, she tripped over a snow-covered log, landing face first.

  Frustrated by her clumsiness, she pulled herself up and brushed the wetness from her face. She looked over her shoulder, horrified to discover that it wasn’t a log she’d tripped over, but the body of one of her guards.

  Noticing the arrow sticking out of the poor man’s chest, her heart sank. He had died while trying to protect her. How many others had died that night trying to protect her? She forced herself not to dwell on that now; she had to focus on the task of warning the castle.

  Why oh why did I ever come out here?

  Trudging through the woods, she swept back up toward the main road in a broad arc. Deciding that it would be smarter to approach Crocetta from the east, she would have to cross the road somewhere and risk being seen by the warriors, but it was a gamble she had to take.

  Cautiously, she emerged from the forest, looking both ways. No one in sight. She scrambled between the bushes toward the road. The snow was much deeper in the meadow and she quickly grew exhausted just trying to wade through it.

  Reaching the edge of the main road, she peered down to the right. The bend in the road just a few hundred feet down was a perfect place for an ambush. Savino’s men might be lurking there, just out of sight. There were also trees and bushes on both sides of the road where they could be crouching, waiting for her in the shadows. Even if by some miracle she managed to get past them, there was nothing but a handful of farmhouses for many miles. With the weather as harsh as it was, she could never make the twenty-hour journey to Andrésis on foot wearing only a thin nightgown, socks, shoes and a cloak.