Kingdom of Refuge (Gemstone Royals Book 1)

by Kelly A. Purcell

  “Yes, we do,” Ben interjected, “I can do it.”

  Jasper turned to Ben, “Sir Enis is our best archer here.”

  “With all due respect your majesty, Sir Enis is a knight. You guys are going to get spotted from a mile away. To get that deep into the castle, find the princess and pull off that escape you will need someone as racially ambiguous as I am. Besides this is what I came here for, to rescue the princess and to help my best friend. As far as I see your majesty this is how I do that.”

  Jasper leaned back in his seat and exchanged glances with Enis, “We cannot risk not getting the princess out.”

  “I can do it your majesty. I have one hundred percent accuracy and rank first in archery in my class.”

  “And I am with Ben,” Nyla added, “he is the only archer I ever want covering me.”

  The prince smiled, “alright then. You are right, knights in the kingdom will be a big giveaway. That is why we need distractions. There is a weapon we spotted in the barracks, that is what we need team three for…. Demolition,” he turned to Enis, “we will need an archer there too.”

  “How will we know where the princess is?” another man asked, he was a thin man with a penchant for overexaggerated expressions.

  “We have spies in the castle. Once they give us her location, we will need our first distraction, that is where you come in Edgar,” said Stiller with a smirk.

  “I do not understand,” the man said, arching his eye brows and frowning in a way that was not short of comedic.

  “The second distraction will set everything in motion. Once that happens, we will have about ten minutes to get the princess out safely without prince Haddin’s involvement,” Jasper said.

  “I can get them to the rendezvous point,” Shadaya finally spoke up, with her arms still folded across her chest, she held the prince’s gaze.

  “The sooner we get the princess out, the safer Dravia is from Aldor, is that not right?” she asked.

  Jasper nodded, “yes.”

  “Then I will get her out.”

  Jasper nodded, “well alright then, let us get these teams organized.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Prince Haddin sat at the oval meeting table, and with heavy lidded eyes listened to the council drone on and on about his actions. They bored him with their lack of insight. Of course, they failed to grasp the genius in his plan and if they could think of any way to keep him from sitting on his father’s throne they would have already set it in motion. He did not need the three bald headed eyesores to discern that for him. One look at them and he knew that their hearts were not with him as king.

  “… your actions are jeopordizing the way things are. Under your father’s rule we have managed to maintain a peaceful existence. Now you have gone and poked that self-righteous king right in the eyes. Under your father’s rule we have avoided their meddling for years.”

  The prince chuckled, “Listen to yourselves. Why must we live in fear of them? who says their God is greater than ours? or that they are more powerful than we are? So, what if they have a reputation of bringing kings to their knees. I say it is time we make a name for ourselves in this land and what better way to do that than to take down the greatest of them all. We can turn their own treaties against them, make them the laughing stock of Saharia, once that is done their allies will distance themselves from them and we will plow through their walls like they are paper lanterns. There was a time when men feared us, and it had nothing to do with what lurks outside our walls, it was because of what we were capable of. When my mother was queen men dared not meddle with Dravia, we had a reputation of being ruthless. I want that back.”

  “At what cost!” an older councilor blurted, he was pink in the face with anger a great contrast against his snow-white beard.

  The prince was starting to feel similar outrage at their small mindedness and was about to tell them so when he saw one of his men appear at the door, looking frightened. He waved him in.

  The man walked up to him and whispered in his ear, “the princess is gone.”

  The prince straightened up immediately, all weariness fleeing him.

  “Impossible.”

  The man leaned over and explained the sight he had found when he had gone to get the princess to bring her before the council. The prince squeezed his eyes tightly and pounded his fist against the table top.

  “Find her,” he ground out angrily, “and send that idiot Serin to me!”

  As the man left the room, all eyes fell on the angry prince.

  “What did you do now?” one of the councilors asked condescendingly.

  The prince rolled his eyes at him and lifted his hand toward him, proceeding to make a squeezing movement. The man’s eyes bulged, and he grabbed his throat, a surprised look in his eyes, as he gagged. The prince’s eyes grew bright with pleasure at the sight and continued to squeeze until the man slumped forward and slipped from his chair onto the floor. A gasp of alarm went out about the room and the prince dusted his hand together.

  Turning to them he smirked, “I did not like his tone,” he said, “anyone else wishes to question my leadership?”

  The sound of silence around the room made him smile wider, “good, because now we do things my way, because I am king! Now if you will excuse me, I have a pressing matter to attend to.”

  He got up and shoved his cloak behind him before sauntering out of the room, emanating pride in his newly gained respect.

  Chapter 28

  “O

  h no!” Evra cried as she rushed to Deswald’s side, the look of terror on her face forcing Ruby's heart into overdrive.

  "What is it?" Ruby asked frantically as Evra undid the front of his tunic.

  Ruby gasped as the dark tunic fell away to reveal his bloody abdomen, but it was not the blood that alarmed her, it was the dark veins that seemed to stem from the small wound in his torso. The dark vines spreading toward his heart seemed to be sucking the life out of him as they grew. He peered at them from beneath his lashes.

  "Leave me," he whispered.

  "What is it?" Ruby gestured to the ugly branches extending across his stomach.

  Evra pursed her lips together, "soldiers often dip their blades in poison. But there is talk of a special blend made by the prince, I do not know which it is and I do not know which is worse," she shook her head; the hopelessness Ruby saw there devastated her.

  "I have heard stories, no one knows how but he has magic of some kind."

  She waited for Ruby to get it and as she did her eyes widened, "sorcery!" she gasped. She had never thought much about black magic, but she was learning more and more how clueless she was about the world. Her mind returned to that night that the prince had turned Serin against her. How he had shut her lips with the wave of his hand, now she knew where that uneasiness she felt in his presence was coming from. The prince was a wizard of the dark arts, he may have even told her so himself, when he tried to win her hand. Now she was realizing that what she thought were cheap tricks might be something more sinister and dangerous. Had he bewitched Serin to turn against her?

  “Oh Deswald, this is all my fault."

  Evra sighed, her lips turned down at the corners as she looked upon the weakened man before them.

  "Is there any way to reverse it?" Ruby asked, her eyes bright with unshed tears. The spy who had been quiet and brooding the whole time finally spoke.

  "I am afraid there is no way to reverse it. Whoever poisoned him, must be very close to the prince and very cold hearted. It is a cheap shot for cowards," she spat, turning away.

  Ruby drew closer to him cupping his face in her hands and tilting his head back so she could see a sliver of his blue eyes.

  "Deswald look at me," she commanded, "you have to fight it, I need you to fight it. You will tear my heart apart if you make me leave you here," she cried.

  Deswald mumbled incoherently and she shook him, "do you hear me? Who did this to you?"

  “Leave me please,” he whispered
.

  The spy leaned forward, her eyes apologetic, "young Arnell is right we must leave him. He will only slow us down; his fate is sealed."

  "No!" Ruby cried, leaning forward to cover his shaking body with her own as if to shield him from his cruel fate.

  "Arnell?" Evra frowned at the woman, then returned her gaze to Deswald, who seemed to be smirking.

  He mumbled something that sounded like "cousin" and Evra's eyes grew wide.

  "Oh!" she cried, lifting a hand to her mouth.

  That is when they heard it. Hurried feet coming toward them from the dark end of the tunnel. The spy instantly drew her short sword, battle stance at the ready.

  "They found us," she growled.

  Ruby swiped her hands across her cheeks and reached for the sword Deswald had carried with him. She stood up and stepped in front of him, gritting her teeth, ready to protect him at all costs. As her grip tightened on the blade she realized that this must have been the weapon Deswald had taken from Serin and that most likely he was the one who had done this evil to Deswald. Her heart broke afresh, this all started with her.

  Evra was still staring at Deswald like she was seeing him for the first time, "a kind stranger is one thing," she muttered, "but family is quite another. We cannot leave him here."

  “That is the least of our problems now,” the spy said through gritted teeth, “turn around, you,” she said pointing to Evra, who was staggering to her feet.

  “Take the princess and go back up through the trap door, find a place to hide in the cellar.”

  “What about…” Ruby started.

  “Leave him, there is no time.”

  “I meant you!”

  The spy smiled bravely, “I can handle myself, besides it is my honour to keep you safe. Now go!”

  “Um… that is going to be a problem,” Evra whispered, she was standing below the doorway with a panicked look in her eyes. She pointed upward, and they heard movement above them.

  “We are surrounded,” Evra whispered. The spy shook her head and for the first time, Ruby saw fear flash in her eyes.

  She turned to look at Ruby, “It was a honour to meet you princess. May El’s favour be on you all.”

  With that she took a step back into the dark recesses of the tunnel, then turned in the direction of the sound of approaching feet with her sword lifted.

  “I am not going down without a fight.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  The king stepped out onto the balcony and sighed at the sight of his daughter sitting atop the ledge, her legs dangling over the garden below, her shoulders hunched in dismay.

  “Topaz,” he said softly, careful not to startle her.

  She turned her head to the side acknowledging that she had heard him, and her shoulders slumped even more. He stepped toward her, resting his arms on the ledge beside her.

  “We leave tonight,” he said, “if you would still like to come.”

  Topaz sighed, “Of course I do.”

  The king frowned, “what is bothering you my child?” Topaz glanced over at him, the wind whipping her long-twisted hair about her face, so that her signature beads clattered.

  “I was just thinking about Ruby. I have always treated her terribly father,” she said, “I always felt like…” she looked down at her knees in shame.

  “I always felt like she was taking what should have been mine and I despised her for it.”

  She turned those expressive brown eyes on him, they were now riddled with guilt and the king felt his heart break for her. He knew that her feeling that way had a lot to do with him. He had brought home a baby to share in the preparations they had made for Topaz and ever since, they had shared in everything. With Ruby being older and so different she had always drawn his attention, he believed Topaz was okay with it because he wanted her to be okay with it.

  “I am sorry you grew up feeling that way, and I know that a large part of that has to do with me… and your mother.”

  Topaz shook her head, “Maybe some part, but most of it had to do with me.”

  She turned and swiveled on the ledge, hoisting her legs over with very little lady like grace so that she was no longer dangling over the garden below. The king felt relief, he was never comfortable with her daring approach to life, but he had learned long ago to let his children express their differences whenever they could safely do so.

  “Thank you,” he said with a smile, “you dangling over there was making me nervous.”

  That earned him a smile, “sorry father. It helps me focus,” she said, “and I needed to really think through my feelings about all this.”

  “And?”

  Topaz sighed, “I miss her father,” she said, “and I have not changed my mind about going with you to the border to wait for her. I also still believe that my attitude towards her growing up has contributed to this in some way…”

  Her father started to protest, but she lifted her hand, “Please father. Do not try to make me feel better. You may have been aware of what it meant for her to grow up here with us, but I got to see every day what it did to her… in here,” she touched the center of her chest solemnly.

  “Did you know that she cried all night after her first week of remembrance. She could not take part in it with the rest of us, because she was not Aldorian and the chief priest made the lame excuse that she was allergic to barley, so she could not partake in the breaking of the loaves. Do you know why she stopped attending corporate prayer? Because it made her more aware of her difference, all that talk about our ancestors and Aldorians being the chosen people of El, while she knows she isn’t one of us. And you know what father? I loved when she stayed away or when she was forbidden to take part in certain things because it made me feel superior to her in some way. In those moments she stood in my shadow. But now I realize that I was cruel to think that way and that I should have been there for her in those moments instead of lording it over her. She is not just older than I am by mere months, she did not just capture your affections before me, but she is better at everything than I am. The only thing that will hold her back is the fact that she looks different, that Aldorian blood does not flow in her veins.”

  The king felt his heart grow heavier with his daughter’s words, he hated the fact that the traditions and laws they held so dearly were causing his girls so much grief.

  “And father,” Topaz continued, her voice quivering with emotion, “all of this makes me wonder. How can we call ourselves a refuge for outcasts, if outcasts are reminded every day that they are not one of us? How can we preach freedom and love in El, yet put restrictions on people because of their heritage and race? I do not understand it father and I think that Ruby could not understand it too and that is why she ran away from us.”

  The king looked at his daughter somberly, feeling the weight of her accusations press on him like boulders. It reminded him of a conversation he had had with his own father when he was a lad.

  “Topaz,” he said, “I am sorry that our ways have brought you and your sister so much grief. I wish I could change the way things are, but…”

  Topaz’s eyes grew hard, “you are king father,” she said firmly, “you can do whatever you wish.”

  With that she leapt off the ledge and walked past him, “I will see you later.”

  The king leaned forward and closed his eyes. There was a time when he felt just as Topaz did about Aldor, but he had grown to accept the ways of his people and he had grown to understand that keeping the peace as king often meant compromising his own values. His father always said that that was the mark of a king, but these days, he was not very sure about much. All he knew was that he wanted his Ruby home again. But could he truly subject her to life in a place that would never accept her? His mind took a turn towards the past, reminding him that he had not quite become the king he had wanted to be.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  The temple, The Royal City, 35 years ago

  The pleasing aroma of cedar wood filled the temple, as the swelt
ering heat of burnt incense and the flaming altars assaulted king Walden upon his hasty entrance.

  “Enol,” he said authoritatively, “why am I only now being notified of your return?”

  The old man continued to kneel before the altar, the bald spot at the top of his head, framed by the long grey strands of what remained, shone in the light of the flame.

  “Enol,” King Walden said again, his tone gentler.

  He dared not take another step toward the old prophet, him being here was bold enough. The old man lifted his head slowly, the slow dip of his shoulders indicating a sigh.

  “I will be presenting myself to the court shortly,” said the old man, his strong authoritative voice betraying the fragility of his aged body.

  The king took a tentative step forward, “I know,” he said, “I was just hoping that…”

  “I would tell you first,” the old man finished, as he rose to his feet. He turned toward the king, his bright perceptive eyes seeming to see right through him.

  “You know Walden, I respect you as king. It was I who anointed you in your youth to succeed your father.”

  “And my father believed that in my time a change would come.”

  Enol continued to look at him in that unnerving knowing way he had, he turned toward the writing table he often requested upon his return and folded up a scroll, his movements slow and deliberate.

  “Will you not tell me Enol?” the king persisted.

  He was a demanding man, used to getting his way, and intimidating his way into the good graces of others. But Enol had never been the kind to shrink beneath his threatening stare or commanding presence. As he always said, he was foremost a servant of El.

  “No, I will speak before the council for I know what I have to say will build contention between us. Because after I speak to the council you will not want me to speak to the people. But my duty as the chosen oracle of El is to speak on his behalf to his people.”

  The king frowned, “it has happened,” he said matter-of-factly.