She leaned her head to one side, "what is that?"
Serin shifted his weight from one leg to the next, "your ring and a few drops of blood."
"My ring?" Ruby frowned, "what ring?"
"Did the king not give you a ring for your birthday, with the royal crest carved into it?"
Ruby turned away, chuckling, "my birthday?"
She laughed, "you forgot I ran away with you on my birthday, did you forget that I missed my once in a lifetime coming of age celebration for you? For this!"
Serin glared at her, and she was sure she saw his brown eyes unnaturally darken. "Well like you said, you always have a choice," he sneered.
“And what about my blood is of interest to him.”
“I do not know Ruby, I’m just following orders.”
He stepped back from the bars of her prison cell door, "I shall tell the prince that you do not have the ring, but only an ample supply of your blood. We shall see what will become of you then."
He turned and started to walk away. Taken aback by the sudden shift in his attitude Ruby was almost lost for words.
"Serin!"
She finally called out after him, wincing at the desperation in her own voice. He stopped but did not turn around.
She drew a ragged breath, "just answer me this one question," she pleaded.
"What is it Ruby?"
The impatience in his voice tore at her heart.
"Was any of it real?"
He turned his head slightly and she pressed her face even closer to the rusting bars. She could see the tightening of his jaw from the light cast on his face by his lantern and it filled her with a sense of dread.
"You tell me Ruby," he replied coldly.
Ruby stood still, until the sound of his retreating footsteps could be heard no more, and the dim light faded from the dark dungeon. she then threw herself onto the stiff cot and cried.
"Father, I need you!" She sobbed, "you were right, I do not belong here."
✽ ✽ ✽
Deswald sat with a cup of tea warming his hands as he stared unseeingly out the window of Stiller’s home. Despite Stiller’s urging, he had not managed to get much sleep last night. Thoughts about Ruby had kept him up, he worried for her the more he learned about this place. He had watched over her for the past six months so closely, that the thought of her being on her own without his protection made him uneasy. He could not wait to do something about it, because standing still and waiting for the right time was beginning to get on his nerves. Not only that, but Ben was still missing. If they do not return to Aldor with him, he doubted he would ever forgive himself. It was because of him that they were all here in the first place; his own complicated affections for a princess, who did not even know his name.
“I used to have trouble sleeping before a mission too.”
Deswald turned to Stiller and grimaced, “this is more than a mission for me,” he admitted.
Stiller nodded knowingly, “you care for her,” he said as he reached for a box on one of the kitchen shelves.
Deswald shrugged, “she does not know her worth to the kingdom.”
Stiller pulled up a chair at the table, “and you intend to force her to?”
Deswald frowned, “I have to try.”
Deswald watched him remove some dried leaves from the box and crush them in his huge hand.
“You are a good lad Deswald,” Stiller said, “I believe you will make an excellent warrior one day. But the sooner you understand that you cannot force people to see themselves the way you do, the better it will be for you.”
“You are talking about Ben are you not?”
Stiller shrugged as he dusted the crushed leaves into a cup, and reached for the tea pot “and the princess.”
Stiller’s nonchalance was beginning to aggravate Deswald, “yet you are helping me find her.”
“Accepting that people have to walk their own path to freedom does not mean you cannot try to help them once in a while,” he lifted the steaming cup of tea to his smirking lips.
Deswald turned to look out the window.
“Your message yesterday was inspiring,” he said after a spell of thoughtful silence.
“Not my message,” Stiller replied, “it’s all because of the light of El.”
“You keep speaking of this light of El. I do not understand.”
“You mean they do not speak of it back in your kingdom?”
Deswald shook his head, “no, this is the first I have heard of it.”
Stiller sighed, “another reason I could never go back.”
Deswald’s frown deepened, “You will choose to stay here, over returning to Aldor. You prefer to hide and risk your life for your faith rather than live it openly with others like you?”
Stiller shrugged, “if you do not know of El’s light, I would and I am.”
“Tell me about this light.”
Stiller leaned his head to the side thoughtfully, “Where did you go for your forty days? I went to the Largan Isles.”
“I have not done my forty days yet,” Deswald replied with a stiff smile.
Stiller frowned, “I do not understand…”
“I know,” Deswald interrupted, “it is insane that they would send a low-ranking palace guard on a mission such as this.”
Stiller shook his head, “that is not what I was thinking at all. I was just thinking that if the king has come to a place where he has realized that the man’s heart for the mission is more important than the rank he holds, then things might just be changing in Aldor after all.”
“No one else wanted to go after her. Will you not tell me about El’s light?”
Stiller chuckled, “I like your persistence Deswald, but even if I do tell you, you may never fully grasp it. It may only cloud your mind with more questions than answers. Answers you may never get when you return to Aldor. I cannot do that to you, not tonight,” Stiller replied as he rose from his seat.
“What? Why?”
“The less things you have on your mind tonight the safer you will be tomorrow.”
“Will you not at least tell me about your forty days?”
“You want to be a century, I can see it in your eyes. Why are you not?”
Deswald clenched his jaw, “you keep answering my questions with questions. But if you must know, my charge leader said that my temperament was too tempestuous, and it would not serve me well in the field. But mostly because of my Dravian blood.”
Stiller nodded, “my forty days was tough, I wanted to give up numerous times, it was a painful arduous journey and I lost a few of my brothers to the harsh elements. But it was liberating, it was clarifying and when I came out of there I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that El was real and that I would spend the rest of my life in service to him and in pursuit of knowing him better. The thing is back then I lived by a different code. A code that justified violence in the name of El, now I have grown to understand that there is a way that seems right to man, the end of which is often his own destruction. Often our logic makes us believe that that way is El’s way too. But El has shown me how wrong we can be when we try to think for him.”
Deswald frowned, “how has El shown you anything, he has not spoken for years. We have no prophet.”
Stiller smiled, “that my friend is the secret of El’s light. If you learn to bow your heart and mind to El, against your innate will to rule it yourself, the light of El reveals his will.”
“I do not understand.”
“One day you will. I see El’s hand strongly upon you Deswald, he will reveal himself to you in his time. Now get some sleep, you need to be focused later.”
“I appreciate your concern, but I cannot sleep.”
Stiller sighed, before turning towards the small box. He plucked two leaves from it and offered them to Deswald.
“Add two of these to your tea. It always works for me.”
Deswald took the leaves and watched as Stiller walked out of the room, crushing the leaves in
his palm with more force than was necessary; he was tired of being held back because of what others thought of him. He hated to think about what he could have been had his charge leader believed in him, had Aldor been diferrent.
Stiller’s tea leaves did help Deswald fall asleep, but his sleep that night was fitful. In his dream he was walking down a dark tunnel, fully clad in Aldorian armor, his sword drawn and his arms tired as if he had been sparring for hours. The voice of the princess surrounded him, bouncing off the walls all around him, but it came from no particular direction. It frustrated him, causing him to pick up the pace in the dark tunnel.
“Princess!” he shouted, “Where are you?”
Suddenly he came upon a brightly clothed figure ahead of him, whoever it was, wore a robe so white it burned his eyes, but it lit his way. He started to run after it, but his armor and sword was slowing him down. He was starting to panic, afraid that he would lose whoever it was and never find a way out of the tunnel; and never find Ruby.
“Wait!” he shouted, throwing aside his sword as he ran after the figure ahead of him. As he ran, he started to feel lighter. Looking down, he found the heavy pieces of metal he wore, was falling from him, piece by piece. He was running faster now, he felt lighter and he was slowly gaining on his target. As he neared the brightly clothed stranger, a burst of bright white light emanated from where the figure stood and enveloped him. He covered his eyes with his arm, as he felt the strangely, comforting warmth surround him.
He dropped his arm and opened his eyes to the brightness, it was unlike anything he had ever experienced.
“El’s light,” he mumbled as he dropped to his knees, suddenly he felt filthy and guilty.
He knew that he was seeing who he truly was, and it disgusted him. But even as he moaned in despair he could feel the light burning it all away, but he was resisting it, resisting something.
“I am not ready,” he muttered, “I can’t…” he cried, “I can’t let it go.”
With a whooshing sound, the light receded, and the cool darkness of the tunnel enveloped him again, he felt more vulnerable that he had ever felt before; he was without armor and he was without a weapon and he was alone.
“Please,” he muttered, “do not leave.”
Deswald blinked twice and then opened his eyes against the brightness of morning. He pushed himself upright and groaned as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, to his surprise his cheeks were wet. He swiped his palms against them frantically and stared confusedly at the moisture on his fingers.
“Des, you alright?”
He looked up to find a frowning Nyla staring at him. He shook his head, “yea, I am never drinking Stiller’s tea leaves again.”
Nyla arched an eyebrow, “I do not know what you are talking about. But you need to get up, we have to get moving.”
Deswald tossed aside the covers and jumped to his feet, “about time!”
CHAPTER 21
Ruby leaned back against the wall, keeping her gaze upward least her surroundings make her more nauseous. She could hear the loud parade outside, it seemed that they could not bury her too deep within the dungeons of the palace. As she sat in the grimy prison, she knew she could blame no one else but herself; not even Serin who had betrayed her. She could not understand how someone could betray the person they loved with so much affection in their eyes. But Serin was right, her actions cost him his home even if he had made it clear that it was not a home he had wanted in the first place. She closed her eyes and for the umpteenth time since she had been here, tried to fall asleep, hoping that even for a moment she could ignore the guilt that assailed her or the grime that surrounded her. But this was nowhere near the accommodation she was used to.
Her stomach churned despite having eaten. Serin had brought Charlotte down earlier with a tea table and some food, not what you would expect to be fed to a prisoner, still her stomach seemed to be upset. She was alone here, and she knew it. She was also aware that it would not be long before the prince came to collect what he really wanted from her.
"Oh El, if it is true that you can be found anywhere, hear me now. Save me from this and I will never doubt you or disobey my father again," she whispered into the darkness.
“How many times have I told you child, a promise comforts only the foolish.”
Ruby looked up and frowned at the person standing in the far corner of the room. Dressed in a lavish azure gown, with a silver, diamond crusted crown glimmering in the darkness, was someone she longed to see. Ruby knew that she was imagining this.
“Mother?”
“Do not make promises you cannot keep Ruby,” came her mother’s gentle reprimand, as she made her way across the small space and sat down gracefully against the opposite wall.
“You are not real,” Ruby said with tearful eyes.
Her mother smiled empathetically, “No my love, I am not. The prince is trying to weaken your mind and in its weakened state you have brought me to life.”
Ruby’s gaze fell on the empty tea table in the corner and she slumped forward, dropping her head between her knees.
“I do not know what to do mother, he wants my blood,” Ruby lifted tearful eyes to the figment of her imagination, “why?” she pleaded.
Her mother looked very much like she did when Ruby knew her growing up, not like she did when she was ailing from that virus. Ruby and her siblings were forbidden to see her in those days and so from the moment that the queen was sick it was like she had already been lost to them.
“Oh, my Ruby,” she said in that affectionate way Ruby remembered so well, “You know the answer to that. It’s the very reason your father and I have gone to such lengths to hide everything that makes you different.”
Ruby reached up and touched the head scarf atop her head and sighed, “who am I mother?”
“You are Ruby of Aldor, daughter of King Kalgary and Queen Kera. Do not let anyone make you doubt that again.”
Ruby nodded, “but I am something else as well. Aren’t I?”
Her mother smiled, “aren’t we all?”
Ruby turned and stared at the wall, “how long will you be here?”
“As long as you need me to be.”
Ruby turned to look at her mother, she was as beautiful as she remembered, her slender frame, her thick jet-black hair, folded into an elaborate crown of its own, her tender light brown eyes, against her smooth brown complexion.
“Forever then,” Ruby replied, “because I miss you and I do not want to lose you again.”
Her mother smiled sadly, “Why do you think I am here now? Because I am always right here,” she tapped her temple and then gently placed her hand over her heart. “… and here. But I will stay with you tonight and watch you while you sleep… like old times.”
Ruby smiled, “Okay,” she said, laying down unto the stiff cot and closing her eyes.
✽ ✽ ✽
The boisterous crowd stampeded through the stone streets of the city of Dravia like wild horses galloping across the plains of Aldor. Deswald allowed himself to be swept along with them, moving rhythmically to their celebratory chants in an effort to avoid drawing unwanted attention. Their celebration was different to Aldor's, it was loud and aimless. The Dravians were acting like caged wild beasts that had been released into the wild, knowing that it was only for a short time. Their celebratory rituals included spilling the blood of animals and smearing the blood on each other, at the front of the procession a bronze image of the god Rah-hul was hoisted above the crowd, flowers and gifts surrounding it. It turned his stomach, as they pulled along a frightened calf toward the square. Deswald fought against the current of the dancing mob trying to pull him into the heart of the madness and successfully evaded being splashed. He managed to do this until his eyes fell upon the landmark Stiller had directed him to look out for.
He slipped out from the crowd and planted himself against the back entrance of the stone building, with the kingdom's flag dancing at its peak and as he was instructed by St
iller, waited. He kept his eyes peeled on the crowd moving down the streets toward the City Square as he waited. Finally, the door creaked open beside him and a hurried whisper beckoned to him. He cast one last look behind him and then he eased inside.
As the door shut behind him, he was met with intense brown eyes, placed perfectly upon a heart shaped face with visibly soft, supple, ebony skin; she looked so much like Nyla down to the focused look in her eyes. He had never met another person of Nyla’s race before, he wondered when was the last time that Nyla had seen any of her own people. The woman, who was dressed in a peasant’s gown and wore a baker’s hat atop her head, looked him over briefly and without a shift in her solemn expression, gestured for him to follow her. He only had to look into her eyes to know that she was no baker.
"This way," she whispered.
Deswald followed her through the narrow passage way, his heart pounding in his chest so hard he was sure she could hear it in the dead silence that surrounded them. Stiller had assured him that he could trust her, he did not mention how beautiful she was. But Deswald should not have expected otherwise, spies were always the most unconventional people. In Aldor the most odd, well-spoken, comely and agile of the pledges were often chosen to be trained as spies. It was not a responsibility he had ever coveted; they spent most of their time in strange places, immersing themselves in cultures, watching and waiting and reporting, but hardly ever engaging. Deswald knew he would not have had the patience to merely watch and wait for someone else to do something. The long winding mouldy tunnel through which she led him continued for a while with Deswald staying close behind the woman that could easily be leading him to his death. She finally stopped, looking over her shoulder at him for the first time since they had first met.
"Wait here," she commanded handing him her lantern.
She then reached up and yanked a chain latched onto an overhead door, low enough for her tall strong slender arms to reach up and pull her body up through it. Deswald stayed safely away from the light streaming in from where his escort had ascended, until her head popped down through the opening.
"Come," she grunted, her voice sounded strained from her bat like position.
Kingdom of Refuge (Gemstone Royals Book 1) Page 18