The Carnelian Tyranny: Savino’s Revenge

by Cheryl Koevoet

  “Now don’t worry about a thing—we’ll find a way out of here and get to someplace safe. This is all my fault for underestimating Savino, though.”

  “No,” Tino said. “We are all to blame.”

  “Now would be a good time to pray,” Helena said.

  “I agree,” Cinzia said, “Let us pray.”

  The four of them bent their heads together and prayed.

  “Your Highness, I must insist that we move along,” Lord Patrizio said, his eyes roaming the masses of people. “The crowds on the street are thinning out and we must seek shelter before we are spotted by one of Savino’s patrols.”

  Reluctantly, Darian nodded. “You are right.” Wiping the dampness from his eyes, he slowly rose to his feet and pulled his hood over his head.

  “What should we do, Sire?” Porfiro asked.

  He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. “I know that you all are eager to see your families, so please make your way back home. I will send word when something has been planned against Savino.”

  The men nodded and went their separate ways, sorry for his loss but grateful that they could return to their children and wives. When they all had left, only Loris and Baron Porfiro remained.

  “Your Highness, where will you go?” Porfiro asked, eyeing the young lad who looked unsure of where to go.

  “I shall find a place where I am welcome.”

  “Both you and Master Loris are most welcome to accompany me home and stay for as long as you like,” he offered.

  Darian rested a hand on his shoulder. “I appreciate your kind offer, but I have no desire to put your family at an even greater risk. If I am discovered, they will be executed.”

  “Then we must be careful,” Porfiro answered. “Come, Loris. Let us move quickly.”

  Marisa made her way down the familiar rampart tunnel, filled with renewed courage. The light from the amulet pulsated in the darkness, urging her on. She could not rest until she found Arrie and Cozimo. She feared for Eman’s life, knowing that Savino had put others to death for crimes much less than his.

  She ducked into the stables, hurrying over to stroke Siena’s glossy mane. “I’m sorry for getting you mixed up in all of this,” she whispered, laying her head against the horse’s neck. “I wish I had never taken you riding up into those woods.”

  Giving her head a pat, she hurried around to the back of the stables and entered through the servants’ entrance. She made her way down the darkened corridor and heard the clatter of pots and pans coming from the kitchen. She slipped past and ran up the back stairs, thankful not to have bumped into anyone who could either see or recognize her.

  Reaching the main level outside the Knight’s Hall, she spied four warriors approaching and flattened herself against the wall. After they had marched past her, she glanced around, trying to decide where to go. She would try the family’s chambers first.

  She hurried up the steps but slowed when she reached the top. Peering down toward the end of the corridor, she was surprised to find there were no warriors guarding the hallway. Tiptoeing down the hall, she glanced up at the portraits of her ancestors covering the walls and was distracted by a small painting of her parents she had never noticed before. Although they were not smiling, the expressions on their faces were relaxed and pleasant and their love for each other emanated from the canvas. Pangs of hurt tugged at her heart. Without Darian, she would never experience a love that transcended time and could be immortalized on canvas for future generations to admire.

  Hearing the creaking sound of someone walking across a wooden floor, she turned and saw Savino coming out of a room down the hall. She flattened herself into a nearby doorway and leaned out to take a peek.

  Surrounded by a thick red fog, his face was hidden from view as he turned to address someone in the room.

  “It is up to you, Mattie, but I think you would be better off here with me. If I were you, I would take some time to consider this before you make a decision you will someday regret.”

  He shut the door firmly as if to make a statement and strode down the hall, the small cloud of red fog following him. His gaze roamed the corridor until suddenly his eyes stopped on her face.

  He was heading straight toward her.

  In a flash, she dove under a side table with a large vase filled with flowers. Just as he was reaching for the doorknob to open it, her foot bumped against the table leg, sending the flowers toppling to the floor. The porcelain vase shattered into a thousand pieces as water seeped into the carpet. Savino stopped, slowly turning his head toward the broken vase and flowers strewn all over the wet carpet.

  She moved only slightly, shifting her weight onto her other knee. When the wooden floorboards underneath her creaked, she closed her eyes in dread.

  Slowly, he bent down and peered underneath the table, the red fog billowing out around him as his eyes searched the floor. He stretched out his arm and groped into space, his fingers missing her nose by only inches. His pupils glowed in the color of blood as they scanned the space under the table.

  As the acrid odor of burning sulfur penetrated her nostrils, she felt a wave of nausea coming on and willed herself not to faint. Savino rose to his feet and glanced both ways, his expression one of bewilderment. Two warriors who had been alarmed by the commotion appeared at the top of the stairs.

  “Your Majesty, are you all right?”

  “I am fine, but I seem to have had an accident with these flowers. Call someone to clean up this mess.”

  “Right away, Your Majesty.”

  He glanced back down the hall, shaking his head before finally entering the room. When he had shut the door behind him, she relaxed, releasing a deep sigh of relief.

  She peered down the hall at the door where Savino had first emerged, knowing that she only had a few minutes at best before someone came to clean up the flowers. Tiptoeing down the hall, she knocked on the door, Matilda’s face lighting up the second she opened it. “Maris—”

  Clapping a hand over her cousin’s mouth, she pushed her back into the room and shut the door again. “Matilda! I’m so glad to see you! You’re the first friendly face I’ve seen in a long time!”

  “What are you doing here?” Matilda whispered. “Savino announced that you were dead. He will kill you if he finds you!”

  She nodded. “I know. I heard his speech at the citadel gate.”

  “I feared he was telling the truth. Where have you been hiding all this time?”

  “It’s a long story. And right now I need to find Arrie. I know he was captured, but I haven’t seen him since. Is he still alive?”

  “Lord Arrigo is safe, but I do not know for how long. They are keeping him below—in the dungeons.”

  “What about the others?”

  She shook her head. “That I do not know. I have neither seen nor heard from them in days. I fear that my brother has quietly been putting many people to death.” Her eyes pooled with tears.

  “Mattie, what is it?”

  “I am sorry, but I still cannot believe that Bruno is dead. And Prince Darian.”

  “Bruno was such a kind man. I already miss him.” She pulled Matilda into a tight hug, stroking her long blonde hair as the young woman sobbed against her. “But what are you still doing here? Why haven’t you left?”

  She wiped her eyes with a graceful hand. “My brother says that I am free to leave anytime I wish. But I know that once I set foot outside the castle walls, I shall be killed.”

  “Can’t you go to Abbadon? Or somewhere else? You must have friends elsewhere who you can go to for help.”

  “It does not matter where I go. He shall always find me.”

  “Savino has lied about so many things that I don’t trust him at all. But I do trust you and there is something I must ask. Are you absolutely certain that Darian is dead?” She looked into her cousin’s eyes and saw they were filled with pity.

  “I am so sorry. I know how much you loved him and how much he loved you. But you
must accept it; just as I must accept Bruno’s death.”

  Marisa hugged her tight. The two young women in Darian’s life shared the pain of his loss together.

  CHAPTER 31

  REMEMBRANCE

  “Your Highness, have some soup,” Baroness Porfiro said, placing a bowl of hot soup and some bread on the table in front of him. “You must regain your strength.”

  Pulled from this thoughts, Darian glanced up at Porfiro’s wife.

  Somewhere in her early sixties, the robust woman displayed a quiet determination that had undoubtedly propelled her through many hardships, making her the perfect match for Porfiro. Years of sharing her life with a Paladin Knight had clearly taken their toll on the war-weary woman.

  Knowing now that he would never experience a lifelong loyalty from a wife, a fresh wave of grief rushed through him. He forced a polite smile. “I thank you, Baroness, but I am not hungry. I wish to retire early this evening.”

  She smiled softly. “Perhaps a good rest is what you need.”

  “You have been most kind. I thank you.”

  “It is I who am grateful to you, Your Highness, for returning to me my beloved husband. Why, only yesterday I thought that I would never see him again. My heart was in utter ruin when I heard that he was dead—”

  Noticing her husband’s stern glare, she broke off abruptly.

  “Perhaps you would enjoy a glass of my finest Ambrogia, Sire?” Porfiro asked, changing the subject. “It is quite an exceptional vintage.”

  Darian was about to refuse but, deciding that it might help him sleep, he quickly changed his mind.

  “Thank you, Baron. I believe I will have a glass.”

  “Your Highness, I am so sorry for your loss,” Baroness Porfiro said softly. “If there is anything I can do for you—”

  “Thank you, Baroness. But for now, I am quite exhausted, so I should like to retire to my room. Squire, will you be all right this evening?”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” Loris replied.

  “Sleep well, Sire.”

  Taking the goblet from Porfiro and a candle lantern from the side table, Darian climbed the darkened staircase. Seeing her beautiful face hovering like a ghost before him, he hurried to his room and shut the door, leaning against it in silent agony. How long would the pain of her loss plague him and how would he ever find the will to go on?

  He set the lantern on the table and moved to the window, taking a sip as he gazed up at the towering fortress high on the hill. Flickering pinpoints of light from the citadel windows pierced the darkest of nights, teasing and taunting him without mercy. And somewhere among them was the man responsible for his despair. The man who had stolen and killed everything he had ever cared for roamed freely, occupying his house and sleeping in his bed.

  Removing his sword and scabbard, he placed them on the dresser and took off his uniform. Then he sat down on the bed, slowly pulling off his boots. Not bothering to remove his linen undershirt and breeches, he stared into the hearth, watching the flames as he lifted the glass to his lips once more, considering all that was never to be.

  He would never see Marisa crowned as queen. He would never have the honor of standing next to her as they gave their vows to each other. He would never experience the pleasure and joy of knowing her intimately nor of watching his babies grow in her belly. He would never see their children develop into adulthood, nor stand by as their eldest was crowned. He would never have the satisfaction of playing with his grandchildren and there would never be another family Christmas at Beauriél.

  The weight of regret of what could never be crushed him.

  But, most of all, he could not fathom the fact that the angel who had transformed his life into something wonderful no longer walked among them. He would have been better off being killed alongside Luca and the others in the Mychen Forest.

  Lying back on the bed that all of a sudden seemed so empty, he fell asleep with the pain that he would never wake up next to his beloved Maraya.

  Never.

  She leaned her forehead against the cold pane of the chamber windows, watching the twinkling of lights in the city far below. For the first time in days, she had the luxury of rest, and not having to think, hide or act. Everything and everyone that she had lost in recent days, weeks and months was finding the opportunity to bubble to the surface.

  First and foremost, her heart mourned for Darian. Up until that point, she had not even had the time to stop and grieve. But, as she peered out into the blackest of nights, the ramifications of his death came crashing down around her, and she was hit with the startling realization that their time together would have to last for the rest of her life. Each detail of every memory that she had ever shared with him had suddenly taken on an astounding poignancy.

  “Are you all right?” Matilda asked her sleepily.

  “No.” Marisa wiped her eyes. “No, I’m not.”

  Tearing herself away from the window, she set the candle on the small table next to the bed and climbed in it, pulling the covers up over her head. Her lip started to quiver, and all of a sudden she found herself unable to suppress the tears any longer. As if a dam inside her had just burst, she began to sob into her pillow.

  Matilda rolled over, touching her arm. “I am so sorry.”

  She sniffed. “What are you sorry for?”

  “For everything. No one should be faced with so much loss in such a short time.”

  “No, they shouldn’t.”

  She wiped her eyes and rolled over on her back, staring up at the graceful curves of the vaults in the ceiling. A tear ran down her cheek and melted into the pillow. “You know something, Mattie?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I was jealous of you when we first met.”

  She lifted her head. “Really? I was jealous of you, too.”

  “Jealous of me? But you are so beautiful and you had Darian’s undivided attention. That alone was enough to make me jealous.”

  “The way you managed to turn all the men’s heads just did not seem fair.” Matilda smiled, showing her sweet dimple. “Darian wanted you, Savino wanted you desperately and, there I was, with no beau in sight.”

  “I guess we got off on the wrong foot.”

  “Indeed we did.”

  “Now I look at you as my sister.”

  “I have never had a sister. I like it.”

  “Me neither. Something else we have in common.” They laid in silence until finally she couldn’t stand it any longer. “Matilda?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Were you ever in love with Darian?”

  There was a long, silent pause as Matilda considered the question. “I do not think I was ever in love with him, but I did admire him greatly. We once spent an entire summer together and I thought something might come of it, but the passion was missing between us.”

  “You both had me fooled. I thought you two were in love.”

  “I suppose that when you have known a man since childhood, it just isn’t as appealing. I always loved Darian, but like a brother.”

  “There’s so much more I wanted to know about him and now I never will. When I think of how we found each other after all those years, it just tears me apart. I mean, what was even the point of us meeting and falling in love?”

  “Everything is still so fresh and nothing makes any sense right now. Darian’s death is a great loss for us all. And I know that it may sound harsh, but life does goes on. It will for you as well.”

  She shook her head sadly. “Life may go on, but it’ll never be as good as it was with him.”

  “You do not know that.”

  “I just don’t understand why Garon would take him away so soon, right when we were starting our life together. I’ve been so mad that I’ve even stopped praying.”

  “But you should never stop praying!” she whispered loudly. “My mother always told me that only through prayer does life gain its true perspective.”

  “It’s hard to have perspective when you have no h
ope.”

  “No matter what happens, you should never lose hope. Remember what Eman said at the party? He told you to remain faithful even when you think all hope is gone. You may have suffered a great loss, but that does not mean you should forsake your trust in Garon.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. You didn’t just lose your fiancé.”

  In the silence that followed, Marisa instantly regretted her words. “I’m sorry, Mattie. I didn’t mean that like it sounded.”

  “No, you are right. I may not have lost my fiancé, but I have lost others very dear to me. I was only just starting to get to know Bruno, but I believe that he truly cared for me, for who I am, and not because of my wealth or titles.”

  “I’m so sorry. I know things haven’t been easy for you.”

  “Well, you have had no shortage of that, either.”

  Marisa nodded. She had been through so much already in her short eighteen years that she wondered what the rest of her life had in store. In the past, she had always gone to her father for advice. But, when he died, she finally realized just how much she had missed not having a mother’s guidance.

  “Did your mother ever tell you about my mother? I mean, like stories from when they were growing up?”

  “I do remember her sharing some nice stories about Aunt Elyse. But my mother died when I was only fourteen. It was not an easy age to lose a mother.”

  “Yet another thing we have in common.”

  “My brother took care of me after she died.”

  “Savino?”

  “Yes. Although we were the same age, he took full responsibility for me just as an older brother would.”

  Marisa nodded but said nothing.

  “Despite what you think, he was not always bad. At one point, he was the most considerate young man of my acquaintance. Our father never paid any attention to me and Savino had always been his favorite child. That made my brother feel guilty. He always tried to overcompensate for it by treating me as if I was extra special.”

  “When did things start to go wrong for him?”

  “Probably from birth, perhaps even before. Our father was not the noble knight he pretended to be when my mother and he were first engaged. He lied about so many things and formed imprudent connections with men of dubious character. He became so entangled in a web of deceit that, in the end, it was impossible for him to escape. And he managed to pull Savino in with him.”