The Carnelian Tyranny: Savino’s Revenge

by Cheryl Koevoet

  “What sorts of people did he get involved with?”

  “The worst kind—powerful sorcerers.”

  “You mean the Apollyon Order?”

  She nodded. “Yes. In any case, Savino’s life has not been easy. I am not excusing him for his actions, but, years ago, he became a victim to the wiles of evil men. He has made bad choices, but is not entirely to blame.”

  “Are these men controlling him now?”

  “I am certain of it because the man who now sits on the throne is not my brother. I do not know who he is. But now, we are both very tired and need to get our sleep. Good night.”

  “Good idea,” she said, yawning. “Good night, Mattie.”

  The door of the dungeon squeaked open and slammed shut, waking Arrie with a start. He rose up on one elbow, straining to see in the darkness. The only light in the prison came from a single torch on the wall.

  “Enjoy your last night in here,” the guard said, mocking. The keys on his belt jangled as he walked to the end of the corridor and settled onto the stool.

  “Who is there?” Cozimo asked.

  “It is I, Eman.”

  “Why are you here in this Garon-forsaken place?” he asked.

  “Not Garon-forsaken, Garon-filled,” he answered.

  “Did he just say it was your last night here?” Arrie asked.

  “Aye.” Eman pulled the blanket around him as Cozimo leaned against the cell bars separating them.

  “Are you being transferred?”

  “No,” he answered sadly. “Tomorrow I shall die.”

  “What is your crime?” Cozimo demanded.

  “I am accused of treason and blasphemy.”

  “How can you be so calm?” Arrie asked. “I am filled with dread when I think that I might not live to see tomorrow!”

  Eman moved over to grasp the bars that separated him from Arrie. “Dear one, not only shall you live to see tomorrow, but you shall go on to live a full life. Indeed, you shall experience more love and happiness than you can ever possibly imagine.”

  “But how do you know this?” he said, eyeing him skeptically.

  “I know and I see. I knew it before you were born.”

  Cozimo squinted at Eman, moving toward the bars to examine him closely in the dim light. His eyes widened as they focused on the long, ragged cloak he was wearing.

  Dark brown with white stripes.

  Eman saw Cozimo staring at him and moved up closer to study his face. “You have a question for me,” he stated matter-of-factly.

  Slowly, Cozimo reached down into the pocket of his cloak, removing an old piece of brown woolen fabric with thick and thin white stripes. He stared down at it for a moment before reaching through the bars to grasp Eman’s cloak. He turned it over and around, examining it carefully until he found a tear, a square-shaped hole near the bottom. Placing the piece of cloth over the hole, he saw that it fit exactly, the white lines of the fabric lining up perfectly.

  He lifted his eyes to meet Eman’s gaze. “Are you—He?”

  Eman smiled at him. “I am.”

  Suddenly, an earthquake rumbled through the citadel’s foundations. The bars of the cells shook slightly as bits of mortar and dust rained down on them from the ceiling above.

  When the quake at last subsided, Arrie stared at them in bewilderment. “What was that?”

  “The prophecy has come true!”

  Eman nodded. “My time is near and so is yours.”

  Cozimo fell to his knees. “It is an honor to be with you.”

  “Do not fear. Garon is very near.”

  “Well, the warriors are gone, but we should probably stay down here just the same,” Alessio announced, shutting the pantry door and returning to the others hiding in the secret cellar. “We wouldn’t want to be murdered in our beds by our own stupid carelessness.”

  “How long must we stay down here?” Cinzia asked. “Do we have enough food?”

  “Fortunately for us, Celino prepared things well. There is plenty of food to last us for several more weeks,” Tino said. “It should be enough until King Bertoldo’s army arrives.”

  “But what if they never made it to Terracina?” Helena whined. “What if something has happened to them, too?”

  “Adalina is safe with Celino and Mark,” Alessio assured her. “We just have to be patient and wait for them to return with the Terracine fleet.”

  “Perhaps we should try to sneak aboard a ship,” Tino suggested. “It may be our last chance for escape.”

  “I don’t think we should even attempt it. We’re at the top of Savino’s most wanted list and shouldn’t be taking unnecessary risks.”

  “What do we do about Marisa?” Helena asked. “Do you think something has happened to her?”

  “Okay, everyone—enough questions!” Alessio shouted. “I don’t know any more than you do.”

  Everyone fell silent.

  “I’m sorry. But I’m just as frustrated as you are. I think that girl is probably faring better than any of us right now. She has the amulet and she’s a smart girl. Hopefully she won’t try anything stupid and definitely knows how to get around.”

  “Dearest, what about Arrigo?” Cinzia eyed her husband calmly. “Isn’t there something we can do to find him?”

  He took in his arms. “We have to place him in Garon’s capable hands and pray. It’s all we can do at this point.”

  CHAPTER 32

  JUDGMENT

  Porfiro knocked on the chamber door. “Sire? Are you awake?”

  Darian rolled over, squinting at the daylight that peeked through the gaps of the thick velvet drapes. He opened the door and grew immediately concerned when he saw the anxious expression on the baron’s face.

  “Sire, I am sorry to disturb you so early, but I thought you should know. The shepherd is to be executed today at the citadel.”

  “Eman?” He stared at him with a puzzled face. “Why?”

  “He has been charged with blasphemy against the Supreme Ruler. My wife informed me that, while we were away, the shepherd has been preaching quite passionately to thousands of people.”

  “This just cannot be!” He grabbed his tunic, breastplate and cloak from the chair, hastily slipping them on.

  “Because he has spoken out against Savino at every turn, the count means to silence him forever.”

  “How is he to die?”

  Porfiro hesitated. “He is to be impaled, Sire.”

  “Impaled!” Darian shouted, shaking his head. “No, no, I must stop this madness.” He sat on the bed and pulled on his boots.

  “If you are discovered, you will be executed,” Porfiro warned. “How can you stop this and not get caught?”

  Darian ran a hand through his hair. “I do not know. But I cannot sit here and allow that innocent man to be killed.”

  “But it is madness, Your Highness!”

  “I may be mad, but I have nothing else to lose.” He tightened the notch on his scabbard and moved to the washstand. “When is the execution set to take place?

  “At the midday hour.”

  He splashed water on his face. “Is Master Loris awake yet?”

  “No. Should I wake him?”

  “Yes. We shall need the other men as well,” he said, drying himself with a linen towel. “How can we get word to them?”

  “Leave that to me, Your Highness.”

  “Marisa, wake up—wake up!” Matilda shook her shoulder gently.

  “What is it?”

  “I just heard some horrible news. Your shepherd friend is to be executed today!”

  She sat up quickly. “Eman? Why?”

  “Apparently, for speaking out against Savino. He means to make an example of him for all to see.”

  “When will it happen?”

  “At noon. In the citadel square.”

  Marisa threw back the covers, jumping out of bed. “I’ve got to stop him. Do you know where Eman is?”

  “He could only be in the dungeons.”

&nbs
p; “How do I get there?”

  Matilda shook her head. “That I do not know. You are more familiar with this castle than I.”

  “I never even knew there were dungeons here. Maybe Talvan can show me.” She stopped to meet her gaze. “Please tell me he’s still alive…”

  “Yes, but only seldom does he ever come up here. I have not seen him in days.”

  “Tell me everything you know about Savino’s schedule. Who does he meet with and when? Where does he go? I need to find his Achilles’ heel.”

  “Achilles’ heel?”

  She dismissed it with a wave. “I’ll tell you about it some other time. But I need to ask you something first.”

  “What?”

  “How do you feel about me killing your brother?”

  Tino hurried back to Celino’s house with a loaf of bread under his arm, entering quickly through the side door. Dropping the bread onto the kitchen table, he flew down the stairs and woke the other three still sleeping.

  “Wake up! Something terrible is about to happen!”

  “What is it?” Alessio asked. “Did you find Arrie and Marisa?”

  He shook his head. “No. I went to the bakery and heard some horrible news there. Eman is to be executed at the citadel!”

  “Eman—no!” Cinzia cried.

  “He has been charged with blasphemy. Savino has decreed that he shall be executed by impalement!”

  Alessio stood, slipping an arm into his tunic.

  “Where are you going?” Cinzia asked.

  “I can’t hide down here while he is being put to death!”

  “I shall come with you,” said Tino.

  “But what if you are captured? What is to become of us then?” Helena asked. “We shall come with you.”

  “That would be most unwise, Your Highness,” Tino said. “You and Baroness Macario should remain here.”

  Helena looked him squarely in the eye. “Tino, I have just lost my only son, my daughter is somewhere in exile and there is no sign of the young woman who should have been my daughter-in-law. I would rather die at the hands of Savino than down here hiding like a coward.”

  Cinzia stood up. “We make a stand together or we die trying. It may be impossible to stop Savino’s tyrannical reign, but we can start a fire that will burn through Carnelia,” she said passionately.

  Alessio slipped his arm around her waist and smiled. “Do you see why I married this woman?”

  “Eman, are you awake?” Arrie whispered.

  “Yes. I am afraid that sleep has eluded me this night.”

  “Is Cozimo still asleep?”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “I think so. He remained awake with me for most of the night.”

  “I just cannot believe this is happening,” Arrie said, shaking his head sadly. “Are you not frightened?”

  “No, for my death shall not be in vain.”

  “When will they come for you?”

  “Soon. Let us pray together.”

  The two men bowed their heads in prayer. Hearing their voices, Cozimo stirred and sat up to join them. But after only a few minutes, they were interrupted by a group of warriors.

  “Take the prisoner!” the lead warrior ordered. A second man opened the door and clapped the handcuffs over Eman’s wrists. They dragged him to his feet and pushed him out of the cell.

  Eman glanced back at his cellmates. “Ap eirie,” he said as a warrior shoved him toward the steps.

  “Ap eirie,” Arrie and Cozimo said in unison.

  “Wait a minute,” the lead warrior shouted, pointing to Cozimo. “We are supposed to take this man as well.”

  Two guards opened the cell and pulled Cozimo to his feet, dragging him in chains down to the end of the corridor. Arrie watched as eight warriors surrounded Eman and led him up the stairs out of sight.

  The dungeon became still once again as Arrie’s head sank to his chest, bowing in silent prayer.

  The warriors led the two prisoners up a circular staircase until they came to a dim hallway with only bare stone walls. Eman heard Cozimo panting heavily behind him as they climbed the steps.

  A warrior shoved Eman into a small chamber with only a single chair, forcing him to sit. He looked out into the corridor at Cozimo, smiling reassuringly at him just before the door slammed shut. He stared at the bareness of the room and saw one small window with bars on it up near the ceiling.

  Watching the clouds rolling across the sky, he began to pray.

  My Father, let this day pass swiftly so that I may once again be in Your holy presence in Syion. My heart is heavy for what is to come, but I know that this is Your will and I take all the iniquities upon myself. Let Your glory shine once again throughout Carnelia and bless those who have blessed me. Amen.

  As the prayer escaped his lips and drifted out the window in the form of a misty white vapor, a bright light from the outside shone down through the bars, filling the cell with indescribable warmth and peace.

  In the dark, vaulted room somewhere deep in the bowels of the castle, two guards forced Cozimo to kneel on the ground. He smelled the foul stench of decay as the warrior pushed his cheek down onto a slippery block of wood covered in blood.

  Eman had said that his time was near, but he felt no sorrow. He had come to the end of the road and looked back at his journey with immense satisfaction. His purpose had been fulfilled and it was time to receive his reward.

  He was trembling, but not from fear. His heart beat rapidly in his chest from excitement and longing. Today would be the start of a new and glorious existence. It was the final, climactic moment he had waited for his entire life.

  With his cheek lying flat against the wood, he lifted his eyes to the only window in the small cell. Up until that moment, the room had been completely dim with not even so much as a single torch to light it. But as he studied the thick metal bars in the window, a blinding light began to shine through it, immediately warming him to his very soul. Suddenly the room was illuminated with Garon’s light, and he beheld a magnificent beauty like none he had ever seen. Feeling light as a feather as he was drawn upwards into the cloud of peaceful tranquility, he never even felt the warrior’s blade as it sliced cleanly through his neck.

  “Kill him!?” Matilda exclaimed. “You are planning to kill Savino?”

  “He killed Darian and wants me dead too. I know he’s your brother, but we can’t afford to leave him in power.”

  She turned away. “There you are wrong,” she said, shaking her head. “He is not my brother. The Savino I know was destroyed long ago by the beast who now controls his body.”

  “But I don’t get it. Who or what exactly is controlling him?”

  Matilda sat on the bed, letting out a deep sigh.

  “Years ago when our mother died, Savino almost killed himself from grief. In his desperation, he went to a sorcerer who told him he could place Savino on the throne. For a price.”

  “And I’m guessing he went for it. How much did it cost?”

  “His life,” she whispered.

  Marisa pictured the creatures controlling him. “Is there any way to save the real Savino?”

  She shook her head. “I do not believe so.”

  “Oh, Mattie!” Marisa hugged her, feeling pity for the courageous young woman who had lost everyone dear to her. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “There is nothing more to be said. I cannot save a brother who has no desire to be saved.”

  Marisa shook her head. “I’m sorry, but time is ticking, and I’ve got to go find Talvan. He’s the only one who can get me in to see Eman before they kill him.”

  “Do you think you can stop it?”

  She slipped her shoes on. “I don’t know, but I’ve gotta try.”

  “Talvan will be down in the Knight’s Hall, awaiting Savino’s daily briefing to the warriors. If you hurry, you might find him.”

  “Thanks.”

  “But please be careful. I could not bear to lose you now just when we are becoming frien
ds.”

  “I’ll be careful, but please pray that Garon will keep us all safe. Will you still be here when I come back?”

  “Probably not. Savino has ordered everyone’s presence at the execution. I do not wish to go, but I have no choice.”

  “If I don’t see you before, just hang in there. If something happens to me, promise me you won’t give up the fight?”

  “Hang in there?” she asked, puzzled.

  Marisa smiled. “It means to keep trying and never give up.”

  “Yes, I shall. And I will pray for safety. Ap eirie, Marisa.”

  “Ap eirie, Matilda.”

  With one hand grasping the amulet, she stepped out into the hallway and shut the door. She crept down the corridor, stopping outside of Savino’s door and listening for any activity. Hearing none, she slipped down the main staircase and moved through the corridor.

  Entering the Knight’s Hall, she suddenly gasped.

  Rows upon rows of giant warriors from Savino’s mercenary army stood at attention, waiting to be addressed by their king. She ducked behind a pillar, slowly moving around it to get a better view at the thousands of troops that had been summoned and assembled.

  After spotting Talvan near the rear, she bent down and searched the floor. Finding a tiny pebble, she threw it at him, hitting the back of his breastplate with a clinking sound. When he turned in her direction, she waved madly at him. His lips curled into a subtle smirk and he wagged a finger from his clasped hands to signal that he had seen her.

  As the door of the antechamber opened, all the noise in the hall immediately died down. With a no-nonsense expression on his face, Savino strode hastily to the front of the platform, followed by Lord Gaspar and a twelve-man entourage of bodyguards. He held up a hand for silence and cleared his throat to speak.

  “Today is a historic day that shall be celebrated for generations to come. It will be remembered as the day that justice was at last vindicated. Once the blasphemous mouth has been silenced for eternity, it shall no longer thwart our plans for a united Carnelia. Only then can we claim victory in the name of our people. Faithful warriors of Crocetta, today I plead for your assistance to complete one urgent task.