Kingdom of Refuge (Gemstone Royals Book 1)

by Kelly A. Purcell

  “This is Deswald, he is with us.”

  Deswald awkwardly turned to acknowledge the odd introduction and found all eyes in the room on him. He knew that despite his Dravian features, he did not quite fit in, but he could also tell that they trusted Stiller and that his word would be enough.

  Following Stiller’s directions Deswald carried the sack to the back and met Stacia hunched over a table with a piece of led and a faded piece of parchment paper.

  “Just put it on top of the other one in that far corner,” she said.

  But Deswald was frozen to the spot, with mouth agape as he stared at the vast amount of supplies filling a space that he would not expect to find in a place like this. He lowered the sack to his feet and turned to Stacia, his jaw still slack.

  Stacia was smiling at him but sadness clouded her kind eyes, “the Community is despised in Dravia and many who follow it suffer dire consequences. Access to food supplies is often the hardest of all as most of it are offered to Dravian gods.”

  “So, you guys stash them back here and give them out to the community.”

  “Yes, that is right, and to the villages as well. It also helps us run the bakery, which is essential to our cover.”

  Deswald frowned, “So let me get this right. You are saying that believing in El in this kingdom could mean starvation.”

  “Or execution. That, we have a hard time preventing.”

  Deswald nodded slowly, “I never knew of this.”

  Stacia sighed, “that’s because our movement is kept secret here and more so from Aldor. It is on a need to know basis on the command of the king.”

  “The king knows about this?”

  “There is much you do not know Deswald,” Stacia said in that motherly way she had, “the king knows all about us, he is the one who set up the Aldorian Alliance here in Dravia. At first it was just to provide passage to those who wanted to get out, but as time went on, men like Stiller came to realize that escaping Dravia was not all that these people needed. They needed hope, they needed the God of Aldor. So, we set up a community and gradually people from all over Dravia started joining us, forming communities of their own and growing in the knowledge of El. But we serve at our own risk. If discovered Aldor cannot and will not intervene, it would have dire repercussions.”

  “Why not…” just then Stiller returned with two sacks, one on either shoulder and laid them down in the corner where Deswald was yet to place his.

  He turned around and dusted his hands together, “what are we talking about?”

  Deswald turned to him, “I was just asking Stacia, why is such an important work kept secret from those of us from Aldor? I know countless people who would love to support this cause.”

  Stiller nodded, “and countless others who would not.”

  “I do not understand?”

  Stiller and Stacia exchanged glances. Stiller walked to the door and shouted some directions to bring in the sacks into the bakery and then pulled the door shut and leaned up against the counter.

  “Do you know what really started the battle of Caldwell?” Stiller asked.

  “Disagreeing political factions,” Deswald replied matter of factly.

  “Yes, fueled by a group called the purists. The purists believed in a pure Aldorian race. And during that time, the king was in the middle of negotiations to sanction inter-racial and inter-tribal unions, which would facilitate the move towards becoming a refuge for people who were displaced and rejected by their own. The purists did not agree with that, but they operated quietly until two royal officials married with other races, one of which was unsanctioned by the high priest. The purists incited riots, and riots turned into political divisions and political divisions turned into civil war.”

  Deswald’s eyes were wide with shock, “I never knew that.”

  “Because the king wishes to not dwell on the sordid past of Aldor, and he believes keeping it a secret from young people like you will keep similar impure thoughts from being birthed in your hearts and prevent something like that from happening again.”

  “Do you agree with him?”

  “I am loyal to my king and my kingdom, but I believe that darkness thrives in ignorance.”

  “So, what does that have to do with keeping the Community a secret?”

  “The purists were quelled when the rebellion came to an end and many were tried and exiled. But their influence has not left with them. To safeguard us here from anyone in Aldor who may not support our work and to prevent any political tensions between Dravia and Aldor, we keep our work secret.”

  Deswald took a deep breath, hiking his arms up on his hips as he absorbed all that was being said to him. Stacia came over and touched his shoulder with a sympathetic smile.

  “No one comes to Dravia and leaves the same, my prayer to El is that you young ones will leave better than you were when you came. Guard your heart.”

  Deswald looked up at her suddenly, “Guard your heart,” he repeated reverently, “my father used to say that to me all the time.”

  Stacia and Stiller exchanged glances, “who is your father?”

  Stiller’s curiosity was dancing in his eyes, as he looked intently at Deswald.

  “Neybran Arnell, and yes he was Dravian.”

  “Arnell? As in the Duke of Ravenesh, who worked closely with the king and then gave it all up for the sake of El?”

  Deswald shrugged, “he did work closely with the king, but that is about all I know. My parents had always been very tight lipped about their life here. Why, do you know them?”

  Stiller looked at his wife, “we know of them,” she said, “they were before our time, but that name is well known among the community. What he sacrificed and how he challenged the ways of this kingdom inspired a lot of people, inspired the formation of the community. He led a number of captive community members to freedom and stayed with them until he could find a way to escape.”

  Deswald’s eyes widened, he had never known that. To think that his father had done something so noble and had never once shared it with him troubled him, but a part of him relished learning something new about him. After missing him for so long, he felt close to him again, hearing of his deeds in times gone by.

  “I never knew. All I knew was that I was his motivation to leave. My mother gave birth to me shortly after arriving in Aldor.”

  “It makes sense,” said Stiller, “The king was not going to rest knowing Arnell was still here stirring up trouble.”

  Deswald sighed, “thank you for sharing all of this with me, I know how busy you are. I… I am grateful.”

  Stacia smiled widely, “oh it is our pleasure to have you here Deswald. Your parents mean a lot to the community. Stiller nodded and turned on his heels, “we still have more of those sacks to bring in, before more members arrive. Come get a move on.”

  Deswald smiled at Stacia and hurried out after Stiller, his mind still reeling with all he had heard. There was so much he did not understand, it made him wonder if he was not in over his head coming here.

  “A kingdom divided against itself cannot stand. All that is good and true is found in El, and El admonishes us to live peaceably with others, to protect the unity of the family of believers and to live with honour among our enemies…”

  It did not take much for Stiller’s thunderous voice to fill the small space in which the small group was gathered. Though he spoke with conviction, he spoke cautiously. Deswald could tell that he was mindful of his volume, mindful of anyone listening in. In such a short time, Deswald had developed a greater appreciation for what he had in Aldor, while feeling ashamed of his ignorance. He was still reeling from what Stiller and Stacia had told him. The thought that he had lived his whole life blindly loyal to a kingdom whose sordid past was kept secret from him just to keep him in line, was bothersome. The people were clinging to Stiller’s words like it was their last meal, the irony that they were all gathered in a bakery under the guise of buying bread was not lost on him either.
<
br />   While Stiller was still in the middle of his speech, Nyla slipped in and eased her way through the group. She found a spot on the floor next to Deswald, as every other seat was taken, her dark skin shimmering with the signs of her exertion in the Saharian heat. It was typical Saharian weather here as well, hot during the day and very chilly at night at this time of year.

  “Anything?” Deswald whispered.

  She shook her head, “you would think a Tyattaran-Aldorian soldier would make more of a stir in a peasant town, but…” she shook her head “no one has seen him. Do not lose heart though, I have one more place I want to check out.”

  Deswald nodded, “Thank you. He may very well not be in Arduway.”

  “Where he is, he is one of us, as is the princess,” she replied, with a wave of her hand.

  She was right, finding Ben was not a favour she was doing for Deswald. Despite her outspoken criticism of him, Deswald knew Nyla had a soft spot for Ben, but like him, she was a soldier and soldiers know how to put duty before emotions; except for when they went hand in hand. Immediately a sense of urgency washed over him. He leaned forward, clenching his jaw at the weakness he was slowly becoming aware of. It was all he could do to keep himself from bolting out of the room into the streets and demand to be taken to the princess. He had managed to keep thoughts of Ruby at bay all day, but now that Nyla had mentioned her he felt like he was failing her by just sitting here. He felt like he needed to be doing more. But Stiller’s plan had a tactical advantage over that kind of thinking, that kind of thinking got men killed.

  He lifted his gaze to Stiller and willed himself to focus outward, at the words the man was speaking and not at the emotions roiling within him.

  “El loves each of us in a way that many will never understand. Not because they cannot but because they do not want to. We live in a kingdom that revels in darkness, that spills the blood of the innocent and silences the truth as it suits those in authority. The gods they try to force us to serve, as mindless and lifeless as they are, know nothing but to demand from us, giving nothing in return. This kingdom is divided, with darkness waging war against darkness as men fight for control. But we are a threat to them all, for we are unlike anything they have ever seen, we are light, and light drives out darkness. So, let us shine, let us shine together as one!”

  The people cheered as best as they could at Stiller’s bright-eyed enthusiasm.

  “The task ahead of us is great my people, but we are a family and as long as we stick together and guard our hearts, no matter how much loss and pain we face, we will remain standing and our light will shine even brighter in the darkness.”

  He stepped forward, “let us pray,” he said and he knelt before them, “let us remember our brothers and sisters who even now are being punished for their faith, let us pray for our brother and sister from the kingdom of Aldor and their mission here among us, and let us pray for the daughter of the king, that her heart will resist the charms of the darkness that surrounds us in this place and that she will be restored unto the path of purpose El has set before her.”

  Deswald followed as the others slipped from their seats to their knees. He could not help looking at them all for a moment. Corporate prayer like this was never seen in Aldor, except on special occasions. Such ardour and passion, was hardly ever expressed anymore and Deswald could not help thinking that maybe this is what Aldor was missing. In Aldor, faith in El was the norm, an assumption made of all of its citizens, but here, faith in El could mean your very life. The people kneeling around him, all knew that and were willing to pay that price. He finally bowed his head, amidst the murmurs of unified prayer and joined his own voice to their hushed whispers.

  “Forgive me El, for my faith is weak. I will give my life for my king out of loyalty, but I have never considered if I would give my life for you out of love. I want to serve you like they do, not out of duty but out of desire.”

  “Amen,” he heard Nyla say and when he looked over she was looking at him with sombre respect. She reached over and took his hand, then closed her eyes.

  “And remember our brother Ben, where ever he is in this place, keep him safe and direct him back to us with renewed conviction.”

  “Amen,” Deswald said, giving her strong hand a reassuring squeeze.

  “We will find them,” she whispered. Deswald smiled at her, he could not have had team.

  CHAPTER 18

  The prince stomped into his chamber and shut the door behind him with a force that echoed across the halls. His angry gaze found the abominable figures, twiddling their thumbs nervously at the anger directed at them.

  “Your plan was faulty,” he hissed, as he unlatched his cape and flung it on the sofa.

  “Your majesty,” they pleaded, “we could not have foreseen an emotional attachment forming between the lad and the princess?”

  “Oh, but you could have!” he bellowed, “that is your very purpose here!”

  The brothers shrunk away from him visibly, turning to look at each other in dismay.

  “This can still be remedied our majesty,” one of them said, his long neck jutting forward as he tried to garner the prince’s attention. The prince was so overcome with displeasure that he was pacing the room, with a wild look in his eyes.

  “Our majesty?” another brother spoke up, “you have the boy in your clutches, life is always more valuable than love. He will put aside his affections if it means preserving his life… it is not the first time we have bent the will of a man to our own.”

  The prince shook his head, “he is Aldorian, they are as stubborn as mules.”

  “He is not your everyday Aldorian,” said brother number three.

  “He is a survivor,” brother number one hissed, his eyes gleaming with wicked intentions.

  The prince stopped his pacing and turned to look at them, his blue eyes thoughtful pools.

  “Yes, you are right for once. The boy is of no great concern, it is the princess who poses a problem.”

  “Oh, but who can resist your charm our king,” brother number two crooned.

  The prince shook his head, “she has. Her childish affections for that fool is hindering my plan. I do not believe I can ever win her affections.”

  “Oh, but our majesty,” said one of the brothers, standing still, he lifted a long finger with a bulbous tip and his soulless eyes grew dim. The prince rolled his eyes, it was a little late for their mind games, he thought.

  “I see it,” he whispered, with a blink his eyes grew bright and he focused on the prince.

  “Her affections for the soldier is not what hinders your charms, but it is her affection for her father that runs deep.”

  “Her father?” the prince sneered, “her father has done nothing but try to control her life… you said so yourself. You said she would be the perfect princess to take our plan forward.”

  “This was not about her conflict with her father our majesty, she was the perfect princess because of the blood we suspected flows through her veins.”

  The prince frowned, “what blood?”

  The brothers exchanged eager glances, one even licked his lips in excitement, “the blood of a forgotten people. Your mother’s wrath overran her reason many years ago and she failed to find the source of light.”

  “You are saying that princess Ruby is the key to finding the source.”

  “We suspect.”

  "If we find the source and we destroy it... there will be nothing to challenge Maldeev's reign."

  "That is right, your majesty."

  The prince’s eyes hardened instantly, “you three annoy me. Could you not tell me this before? Could you not discern her affections before?” he shook his head.

  “We needed her to be close enough to see her and to prove whether she truly is who we think she is. We need to get even closer.”

  “What do you need?” “Her blood,” they replied quickly.

  “Just a tip,” one said.

  “Or a bit more,” another quip
ped, licking his bloodless lips with a grey tongue.

  The prince sighed, “fine, you shall have her blood. But I shall find a way to infiltrate Aldor. If not through a willing marriage, then through war.”

  “How our majesty?”

  “We force the king’s hand, we let him try to rescue his precious princess.”

  “But he will overrun our city!”

  “He will wreak havoc!”

  “He will upset the balance with his presence.”

  The prince smiled, “oh I am counting on that. Small price to pay.”

  The brother’s eyes lit up simultaneously, “you wish for him to breach his own treaty!” one of them said.

  “And then his word will mean nothing to the other rulers of Saharia. You are wise oh king.”

  The prince chuckled, “all we need to do now, is put his princess in distress and make sure he gets the message.”

  “I know just the thing,” quipped brother number three. Their maniacal cackle filled the room, causing the prince to grimace.

  He lifted a hand, halting their laughter immediately. “Leave me, your presence disturbs my peace and your laughter hurts my brain.”

  Their faces dropped, “sorry our majesty.”

  All three disappeared in a puff of grey dust, leaving the prince gagging at the foul odor they left behind. They had been with him since he began going deeper into the dark arts late in his teenage years. It was only when he took his father’s life that they became a constant presence in his life. He had always hated living in his older brother’s shadow. Magic gave him an escape and once his mother saw his interest, it earned him her affections. He sat down on the sofa and sighed, looking up at a portrait of the queen over his mantle.

  “I will find you mother, and then I will hand you and lord Maldeev, Saharia on a platter.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  She tiptoed down the dark hall, dashed across the archway like a fleeting shadow, pressing her back against the stone wall, as she held her breath. The shuffling feet of tired soldiers dragged by her, grumbling to themselves about matters that were of no interest to the foreigner lurking in the shadows of the palace. She peered down the hallway, noting its isolation, then slithered along the wall to Serin's bed chamber. This was hardly appropriate behavior for a princess, but since Serin left with the prince the evening before she had not heard from him.