The Carnelian Tyranny: Savino’s Revenge

by Cheryl Koevoet

  Darian smiled solemnly, clapping a friendly hand on his shoulder. “I know that I speak for the Princess Regent when I say that there is nothing we would like more than a strong alliance with Terracina.”

  “Ah, that is most refreshing to hear.” Bertoldo turned to face him. “There is the matter requiring some delicacy that I am afraid must be addressed rather soon.”

  “Which matter are you referring to?”

  Bertoldo paused. “The longstanding pact established years ago between the Fiore and Macario houses. An alliance by marriage.”

  “Ah, yes.” he said slowly, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “We shall discuss that while you are here with us. But, first, I am afraid that I have a grim but most important favor to ask of you, before any more time passes.”

  Bertoldo gestured. “Please, anything.”

  “Several days ago, my army was ambushed by Savino’s warriors on our way to Abbadon and there was a horrible slaughter. Nearly a thousand slain bodies of my men still lie near the Mychen Forest. I was able to escape and return to the city with a small band of men, but we have had neither the time nor the manpower to go back and bury the dead—”

  “Say no more,” Bertoldo interrupted. “I shall send my men there at once. And I can assure you that each one of them shall receive a proper soldier’s burial.”

  “Thank you, Sire. I am most grateful. Will you please do us the honor of joining us this evening for a banquet?”

  “Your Highness, it is I who would be honored.”

  Later that evening in the Knight’s Hall, there was a modest yet somber dinner. Everyone sitting at that table felt blessed just to be alive. As Darian, Marisa, King Bertoldo, Mark, Loris, Alessio, Cinzia, Helena, Matilda, Tino, Celino, Talvan, Baron Porfiro, Lord Aurelio, Count Vittore, Lord Patrizio, Adamo and Ilario lifted their glasses, the room fell silent. All eyes were drawn to the four empty chairs belonging to Eman, Cozimo, Lord Domenico and Bruno. With heads bowed and hands crossed, each person remembered the men who had fallen with dignity and spirit for a few sacred moments.

  “Ap eirie,” Darian whispered finally, lifting his goblet.

  “Ap eirie,” the voices echoed somberly around the table.

  Tears spilled from Marisa’s eyes as she remembered Cozimo, Bruno, Domenico and Eman. Each of them had taught her so much in a short time. The small group of solemn faces sat with their heads bowed, contemplating the precious souls that had been lost.

  The main course had been served and the intimate group gathered around the table was chatting quietly over drinks when suddenly, the main door of the Knight’s Hall swung open with a loud boom. The conversations around the table quickly died down as a man wearing a long, white tunic entered the hall, striding toward them with purpose. He approached the table, taking the empty seat at its head.

  Recognizing his black hair, brown eyes and warm smile, Marisa jumped up to hug him. “Eman!” she exclaimed, kneeling next to him as her heart pounded with joy. Cinzia and Helena hurried over to join her as Eman turned to look at each one of them directly.

  “But how is it possible?” Marisa asked. “You’re alive!”

  “No, you are dead!” Helena shook her head in disbelief as she pointed at him with a shaky hand. “I watched you die in front of me!”

  Eman smiled, touching her hand. “I am not an apparition as you can see. I am alive.”

  “It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen, and believe me, I’ve seen a lot!” Celino said. “King Bertoldo’s ship had almost reached the harbor, and I was up on deck. We looked out over the water and saw a man walking right toward us, just as if he were walking down the street! I thought I was seeing things, but we all saw it; hundreds of men on every ship in the fleet saw him walking across the water. Then I saw that it was Eman!”

  Alessio’s voice cracked. “The warriors told me you were to be buried at sea—a criminal’s burial.”

  “Some may consider me a criminal,” he remarked softly.

  “You are The One, aren’t you?” she asked.

  “I AM.”

  The ground shook as an earthquake rumbled through the city. The crystal in the chandeliers clinked as they swayed back and forth. The quake quickly subsided as they all stared at him in awe.

  “Amazing,” Tino said.

  “But what does all this mean?” she asked, searching his eyes. “I’m not familiar with the ancient Ambrogian scriptures.”

  “My child, you are no stranger to my Father’s word,” Eman answered, gazing intently at her. “For you have been learning my ways since the time of your birth.”

  “Does that mean that you are the same—?”

  “I am the same today and tomorrow as I was yesterday. Or even more than two thousand years ago,” he said, smiling knowingly.

  “Incredible,” she said, shaking her head.

  “Your Highness, maybe this will help,” Celino said, rising from his chair. He walked over to Marisa, unfolding a scrap of paper and handing it to her.

  “Oh, yes!” Recognizing the page that had been torn from Celino’s Carnelian history book, she began to read the text aloud:

  The Ambrogia Stone was the most sacred gem in the temple through which Garon communicated to the priests in the early days of the city. The intense purple hue of the stone signified its divine nature and was used for years by the priests to discern the will of Garon for his people. No other stone or gem like it has ever been found in Carnelia, further reinforcing the notion that its origins were divine in nature. Although no other accounts of the stone have ever been recorded, traditional belief holds that an ancient scripture was engraved on the original rock as prophecy:

  ‘When the temperate flower has split the indomitable rock with a single blow, the Defender will appear in the hearts of the true believers.’

  According to legend, the stone cracked and splintered when Garon expressed his anger at the priests for their rebellion and that of the people of Ambrogia. The fate of the precious shards of the stone remains a mystery, although some have suggested that its pieces still remain in existence. They are believed to possess mystical, divine powers and remain highly sought after even to this day.

  There was a moment of silence before Alessio cleared his throat. “My dearest niece, I believe that today you just helped fulfill an ancient prophecy,” he said solemnly.

  Eman smiled at her, nodding gently.

  “But—I still don’t get it.”

  “Ah, a riddle! Let’s pick this apart, shall we?” Alessio rubbed his hands together. “Uh, okay. What’s another word used to describe ‘temperate’?”

  “Gentle, modest,” Cinzia said.

  “Very good. Now, how about ‘indomitable?’”

  “It means ruthless,” Porfiro offered, taking a sip of wine.

  He turned to Marisa. “What is your last name?”

  “Fiore.”

  “And what is the literal meaning of Fiore, Tino?”

  “It means flower.”

  “Correct. And what does the name da Rocha mean?”

  Tino nodded, ashamed he did not see it sooner. “The rock.”

  “Correct again. So now let’s replace all of those words and read it again out loud, shall we?”

  Marisa read the words. “When the gentle Fiore has split the ruthless da Rocha with a single blow, the Defender will appear in the hearts of the true believers.’”

  Marisa looked at Eman. “You’re the Defender.”

  He smiled.

  Her smile quickly faded. “Does this mean that we are living in the tyrannical age that was prophesized in the ancient scriptures?”

  “What does your heart tell you?”

  “That you are here to save us all.”

  He nodded. “The battle is only just beginning.”

  She removed the amulet from around her neck, handing it to him. “I believe I have something of yours.”

  He shook his head. “No, it was my gift to you.” He placed it into the palm of her hand and closed her
fingers around it. “Keep it. You will still need it in the age to come.”

  “Thank you, Eman. For everything.” She kissed his cheek and sat down again. The meal was served as the chatter around the table grew louder.

  Eman observed the guests chatting softly and noticed someone who was not enjoying her meal. He watched the young woman as she sat quietly, staring down at her plate. As a single tear slipped down her delicate cheek, his eyes warmed with compassion.

  “Why do you weep, milady?”

  When Matilda looked up at him, tears spilled from her bright blue eyes. “Why is there no chair for Savino?” she demanded, her cry echoing through the hall.

  No one answered.

  “You all think that because my brother was a horrible man he does not deserve a chair? That he does not deserve the decency to be remembered?”

  Marisa stared uncomfortably at Darian and knew what he was thinking. What they were all thinking. The faces around the table were bowed in collective shame.

  “Well, I knew Savino before he became the monster. I remember him as the little boy who spent all afternoon in a field picking wild flowers for our mother when she was sick. I thrived on his kindness and generosity at a time when my father would not even acknowledge me as his daughter. I knew him as the teenager who saved a litter of kittens from drowning after some old fool had thrown them into the river. And I loved him when he was the compassionate shoulder I cried on the day our mother died. I shall never forget him!”

  She pushed her chair away from the table and hurried out of the hall, sobbing.

  “Everyone, please follow me,” Eman said quietly, rising to his feet. He followed her into the Crimson antechamber where he found her standing next to the table. He took her in his arms.

  “Now young lady, dry your tears and come with me.”

  He guided her out of the Knight’s Hall and down the corridor. Opening the large oaken door for her, he took her hand, leading her outside as everyone followed behind. They walked across the courtyard to the eastern wall and down the stone steps to the Royal Crimson Sepulcher. When they reached the door, Eman saw that it was locked. He simply pushed it open and entered, leading Matilda by the hand.

  It was dim inside the crypt with only the lights of a few candles still burning. The air was damp and musty and it smelled of decay. Eman waited until everyone was inside before he descended the steps down to the royal crypt.

  Marisa had never been in there before, but the sight of the caskets in all the alcoves was creepy. The smell made her sick and she covered her nose with her skirt. She spotted the plain wooden crypt in the far corner where Savino’s body had been placed two days earlier without pomp or ceremony.

  Eman guided Matilda over to the coffin as everyone watched. He stood up straight, closing his eyes and stretching his hand out toward it. “Savino! Wake up and arise!” he commanded.

  As they all stared in amazement, the lid of Savino’s coffin was pushed aside from the inside and crashed to the ground. Slowly he sat up, removing the cloths that had been hastily wrapped around his body. Cinzia and Helena both fell onto their knees, watching in awe as the dead man climbed out of the casket.

  Savino’s eyes blinked rapidly and his hands trembled with fear the moment he saw Eman. “Forgive me, please forgive me, please,” he cried, weeping on the ground near his feet. “Please forgive me.”

  Eman reached down, gently taking his arm and pulling him to his feet. “You are forgiven, young Savino. You are free of those horrible beasts now. Never let them back in again.”

  “I shall not!” he cried. “I promise.”

  Tears quickly formed in Marisa’s eyes. She placed her hand on his arm, forcing him to look at her. “Savino, please forgive me.”

  “Cousin, it is I who needs forgiveness.” His voice cracked as he caught her in a firm embrace. Matilda rushed over and threw herself around him. Savino clung to his sister tightly as both of them were wracked with sobs. All of the pain and hurt that he had caused others suddenly consumed him in one large gulf of remorse.

  “Shhh,” Matilda whispered softly. “Let it go, brother. I forgive you. It is in the past. You are forgiven.”

  “No.” He shook his head, ashamed. “I can never be forgiven for what I have done. Never.”

  Darian watched his cousin silently, his arms crossed as his mother pinked away a tear. Cinzia rested her head against Alessio’s shoulder, both of them smiling with joy.

  Eman stepped up close, placing his hand around Savino’s neck and regarding him in earnest. “You are forgiven, young man, for now and for always. Your heart must accept this in order for you to move forward.”

  Savino’s gaze fell to the floor, ashamed of all he had done.

  “Come, everyone,” Eman said, “Let us leave this place of death and return to the house of the living.”

  As everyone emerged once again from the crypt, Savino leaned against Matilda, his body still weak. She helped him climb the stairs, smiling tearfully at him. Everyone was chatting in amazement about what they had just witnessed as they made their way back toward the Knight’s Hall.

  Lost in her thoughts, Marisa broke off from the group to climb the steps on the western rampart. Her body shivered in the cold as she gazed out at the setting sun. Darian moved up behind her, placing his cloak around her shoulders.

  “You are still sick. Do you think you should be out here?”

  “I’ll be okay.”

  “Something troubles you.”

  She turned to him. “What happened to Raniero’s body?”

  Darian took a deep breath. “I do not know,” he admitted, shaking his head. “We never found it again.”

  “So what happened exactly after I fainted?”

  “I still do not know. His body was lying right there on the floor, motionless. I sent Loris to get help and then Savino’s warriors came into the room. When I told them to remove the bodies, I looked back and saw that he was gone.”

  “But are you sure he was dead? Could he have snuck away when you weren’t looking?”

  He shook his head. “Raniero never could have walked out of there without someone seeing it. The main door was bolted shut and I was facing the antechamber door the entire time.”

  “And nobody has seen him since?”

  “No.” He shook his head.

  “This isn’t good.” She turned to stare at the fiery orange sky tinged with hues of pink and purple. “And what about Gaspar?”

  “He too has disappeared without a trace, but I would not worry about him.”

  “That’s what you said about Savino.”

  He slipped his arms around her waist. “Do not worry, my love. We shall find both of them soon and they shall be brought to justice.”

  “I hope so.” She stood in silence, pondering all that had happened in the recent weeks and days.

  “Is there something else?”

  She let out a deep breath, nodding. “As a matter of fact, there is. What Eman did this evening makes me question my own judgment.”

  He cocked his head at her. “In what way?”

  “I killed a man. Now, two days later, it’s only just now starting to sink in, but I actually killed him.”

  He brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. “That man walks again. He is not dead.”

  “But I still killed him.”

  “You had no choice. He was going to kill us both.”

  “I don’t really know if I can be queen. To have the responsibility of deciding who lives and who dies frightens me.”

  “You are not planning to walk out on me now, are you?” He gathered her in his arms, hugging her firmly to him. “You are a compassionate woman and that is one of the things I love most about you.” He kissed her softly on the cheek. “So allow that compassion to guide your decisions.”

  “But how do I move past what I did?”

  “By remembering what is important and forgetting the rest.”

  “How do I forget something like that?”
<
br />   The lines of his face softened to reveal the stunning grin she had come to love, and there was a glint of mischief in his green eyes.

  “I may be able to help you with that. At least temporarily.”

  Slowly, he took her face in his hands and drew her close, kissing her long and full on the lips. His body felt warm and solid against hers, and strong arms dropped down to her waist, holding it firmly as if they would never let her go. All of the fear, pain and uncertainty from the past few weeks melted away in the kiss that had the power to comfort and reassure without words.

  As their lips slowly parted, he pulled away and opened his eyes to gaze solemnly into hers. “Focus on our future together, Maraya. We have so much to be thankful for.”

  “I love you so much, Darian.”

  “And I you,” he breathed, closing the distance between them once again. They stood on the rampart and gazed out toward the seaport below, the sky filled with beautiful streaks of orange, pink, yellow and purple. She could not remember seeing a more beautiful sunset since the first day she had arrived in Carnelia.

  CHAPTER 40

  RECOMPENSE

  Over the next several days, the palace was a flurry of activity with preparations for Queen Maraya’s coronation. Darian took every opportunity to express his love and appreciation for not only her, but for his family, his friends and everyone else he cared about. And just like all of them, he was grateful for the second chance he had been given. The dead were buried and the lost were mourned. Marisa and Darian found strength together, both of them learning to lean on the other for help in carrying them through the pain and loss they had all suffered.

  In the late afternoon on one of these days, Marisa stood alone at the window, watching the snow drift down onto the balcony and thinking about the past year of her life when a soft knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. She opened the door and smiled.

  “What are you hiding behind your back?”

  “May I come in first?” Darian asked.