Azurite (Daughter of the Mountain Book 1) (16 page)

BOOK: Azurite (Daughter of the Mountain Book 1)
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              “That’s where we come in,” Ambrose replied.  “Zora is still young.  We can teach her and mold her into the ruler Samaria needs.  As her advisors, we’d benefit the most from such a situation because our influences would finally be felt.”

              “I think both of you are forgetting two important details,” Brutus said flatly.  “The Queen
and
Olger Guttensen.  Do you think that just because Queen Evangeline no longer holds power that Olger will forget all about the arrangement she made with him?  Well, he won’t!  He’ll attack, pillage, rob, and destroy all of our lands on the perimeter until we make good on our promise.  The Noman people are relentless when it comes to warfare.”

              “There are other countries that would come to our aid, Brutus, once Evangeline is out of picture,” Ambrose explained.  “The Chancellor of Rienne, the free lands of Trisdag and Brighton, even Cara…they all know that Olger is a violent tyrant and would help defend us against such attacks.  They are all on our side, not Evangeline’s.  Olger wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Brutus leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other.  “Ok then, but what about Queen Evangeline?  I feel as though her involvement in all of this is more significant than Olger’s.”  Arvil’s high-pitched voice cackled through the air.

              “I speak for both Ambrose and myself when I say that the time for Queen Evangeline’s reign has come to an end.  Now, we must place the future of Samaria in our own hands.  And Zora’s, the last of the Winnser bloodline.”  His pale face looked translucent in the dim study.

              “That’s where you come in, Brutus,” Ambrose added.  “Arvil and I were talking the other day…trying to devise a way to…um… dispose of the Queen.  We were thinking that…since you have access to the armory and control the Samarian Guard…”  He paused, and his saggy face glistened with perspiration.  Brutus cut Ambrose’s rant off by pounding his fist on the table.

“Are you suggesting that I have my men kill the Queen?” he yelled.  “Are you out of your mind?  That would throw the country into civil war if they believed Evangeline’s death was a result of foul play.  And what would we tell Zora?  She’d never trust us!  I won’t be a part of that!”

“Brutus, I know you have men in the Guard that you are more than willing to be rid of,” Arvil squeaked behind him.  “Assign them to this task, then we’ll charge them with the murder of the Queen.  We can cover our tracks so that no one will suspect us.” 

“I also enlisted the help of Leonardo,” Ambrose added confidently.  “I sent a detailed letter, four pages full, to him right before your arrival.  It explains all of our concerns, along with our tentative plans about putting Zora on the throne.”

“You’re mad,” Brutus repeated through clenched teeth.  “Both of you.” 

A loud knock at the door froze the men in their places. 

“Finally, Talan’s arrived,” Arvil breathed in relief.  “Maybe he’ll help you see the rational in our plan, Brutus.” 

The small man removed himself from his seat and went to allow the last advisor into his study.  But when Arvil opened the door it wasn’t Talan who occupied the hallway, but Queen Evangeline with a pair of armed Castle Guards flanking her on each side.  Her body language and facial features were calm and contained, but her bright blue eyes were red with rage. 

She plowed past Arvil into the study, still garbed in her vibrant purple gown and matching jewels.  In her hands she held Ambrose’s letter to Leonardo, both seals broken and the parchment completely unfolded.  She came forth and threw the parchment on the desk with such anger that Ambrose jumped in his seat.  Evangeline’s Guards followed her in with their swords drawn.

“My Queen!” Ambrose exclaimed, coming from around the desk and dropping to one knee.  Brutus and Arvil quickly followed.

“Get up!  All of you!” Evangeline bellowed, her face flushed with anger.

              “Do the three of you think I am some sort of dimwit?” she demanded as she paced in front of them, the train of her gown following closely behind her.  “While it may seem like a good idea to send a child messenger out in the middle of the night, did you think the servants wouldn’t notice?  Do you believe that my influence has completely diminished in my own castle?  Do not underestimate those in this fortress who are loyal to the true Queen.  Fools!  I should have all of you hung for such treason!”  Arvil had stepped forward, his face white and sickly looking.

              “My Queen, forgive me,” he pleaded.  “I was coerced by him.”  He pointed an accusing finger at Ambrose when he said this.  “The whole time he’s been plotting against you, My Queen.  Trying to remove you from your throne and replace you with your bastard child.  It’s preposterous I tell you.  I want no part in in!” 

Brutus just shook his head in disbelief and decided to step in.

              “He’s lying,” Brutus cut in frantically.  “He’s been colluding with Ambrose for weeks, My Queen.  I only just found out about this horrific plan this evening.  I never intended to be involved with such seditious acts!  You have to believe me!”

              “Shut it, all of you!” Evangeline erupted.  “Guards!  Detain all of them.  Now!”

Both Guards came forth from the doorway and immediately began shackling Brutus and Arvil’s wrists together.  Arvil had begun tearing, and his small frame was hunched over in shame, while Brutus watched the first Guard move over to Ambrose.  He began locking the shackles on his wrists, and the Queen was now directly facing him.

              “Do you have anything to say for yourself, Master Cornwell?  Since you’re the ring leader,” she asked in a mocking tone.   Several conflicting emotions were evident on Ambrose’s droopy face, but defeat finally took over.  Brutus watched as his cloudy gaze quickly darted over to his desk.  The letter to Leonardo was fanned out top from where Evangeline had thrown it.  Silently, Brutus counted the pages and realized with a spark of excitement that only three of the four pages were accounted for. 

              “Forgive me, my Queen,” Ambrose whispered as droplets of sweat rolled down his cheeks.  “Have mercy, I beg you.  I just want what’s best for my country, as an advisor to the one whose decisions affect the lives of all.  You must understand what that responsibility feels like.”  Evangeline regarded him for a moment, but her eyes were unforgiving.

              “I understand that feeling more than you know,” the Queen replied softly.  “And what I do now is for the good of us all.” 

She gave a brief nod to her Guard who punched the old advisor in the kidney causing him to howl in agony.  The Guard forced Ambrose’s right arm behind his back and pressed above the elbow before bending it painfully sideways till he was unable to move.  The second Guard rushed over and grabbed a handful of the advisor’s thin grey hair and yanked it backwards until Ambrose was forced to look up at the ceiling.  The old man was covered in a sheen of sweat, and his fear filled eyes darted around nervously, trying to focus on one of his comrades for help. 

              “My Queen…please…” Ambrose’s voice came out in raspy fragments, and he groaned when the Guard yanked harder on his hair.  Brutus and Arvil stared in horror, fearful to say or do anything that would reroute the Queen’s wrath to them.  She turned towards them with an icy stare.

              “My Queen, I didn’t want to be involved in this,” Brutus began to appeal one more time.  “I deserve to be released.  I am loyal to you!”

              “You accepted the invitation knowing full well what these traitors’ intentions were.  Let this be an example to all those who wish to defy me,” she proclaimed. 

The first Samarian Guard had removed a large blade from his side and before Brutus could object, the Guard slashed it brutally across Ambrose’s exposed throat.  He removed his grasp and Ambrose crumpled to the floor, red blood spewing uncontrollably from the fatal gash.  He choked and gurgled as his hands went to his throat in an unsuccessful attempt contain the blood flow.  He frantically reached his palms towards the other two advisors, begging them for help, but they stood frozen and immobile, only able to stare and do nothing.

              “You two are to remain here,” the Queen explained to Brutus and Arvil, “and watch as the life of your friend is slowly drained from his body.  Know that it is all because of you.  Then you’ll be taken down to the prison, and there you will remain till I say otherwise.” 

She glanced down nonchalantly at her dying advisor who was gasping and struggling to breath.  The blood was pooling around his overweight body now, and Evangeline took a couple of steps back to avoid getting blood on her dainty purple shoes.

              “Maybe next time you two will think twice before engaging in acts of treason against the only ruling Queen of this country,” Evangeline said coolly.  She then exited the study while the Guards waited outside.  A few minutes later, Ambrose Cornwell took his final breath, and Brutus and Arvil were escorted to the cold, dark cells underneath the fortress Mizra.

Chapter 10

 

Zora awoke to the sweet smell of flowers and the touch of chilled air on her skin.  When she opened her eyes, she was outside laying facedown in Mizra’s gardens, her cheek and forehead pushed into the cool earth.  The rough grass tickled her arms and neck.  Zora sat up slowly and brushed the dirt off of her face, looking around bewildered.  It was still night, and the moon was high and bright in the sky.  A small fountain gurgled peacefully across from her, and the height of Mizra’s great towers cast looming shadows over the gardens.  It was deadly silent, and the fortress was dark with sleep.  Zora brought her eyebrows close together in confusion. 

              Blast!  How did I end up here?
  She reprimanded herself.
  I don’t remember leaving my bedchamber.  I have to be awake at sunrise and ready to leave for Montanisto!

              Gathering her soiled party dress in her hands, Zora stood up, got her bearings, and angrily began trekking back to the fortress so she could go back to bed. 

             
Blasted jimson weed.  I have to stop taking it!  Milo warned me…

As she walked, Zora got the unsettling feeling that someone was watching her, hiding among the trees, stalking her footsteps.  The thought was ridiculous.  Samarian Castle Guards had Mizra locked down from the gate inward, and they patrolled the grounds at regular intervals to ensure the safety of the Queen. 

But even though she knew this, Zora picked up her pace when she heard the sound of cracking twigs and rustling leaves inside the drooping willow mosses.  She turned the last corner in the garden as Mizra drew closer then stopped dead in her tracks.

              She was back to the same place she’d started.  The impression her body left in the grass was still evident, and the same fountain flowed across from it.  Zora turned around nervously and stared at the trees behind her.  Something was lurking silently there.  She could sense it following her, and her skin prickled with unease.  This time she continued along at a run towards Mizra, towards the bridge and armed gate, glancing frequently over her shoulder to discover who dare pursue the Queen’s daughter.

              She turned the same sharp corner one more time, and muffled a scream in her throat as her silent stalker emerged from the shadow.  The same man that appeared to her in the Forest of Mirth three years ago was standing right in front of her, barring her path.  He held an impish smirk on his red lips, and his glowing eyes studied her voraciously.

              “You’ve grown up,” he observed.  His voice was deep and as smooth as glass.  “I guess I didn’t realize it had been so long.”  Zora felt her body begin to shiver in fear, remembering how his poisonous touch had eternally scarred her, in more ways than what was manifest on her pale skin.

When Zora didn’t say anything, the stranger slightly frowned and asked, “Am I making you nervous?”  As if he cared.

              “What do you want?” Zora exclaimed.  “How did you get in here?  There’s dozens of guards surrounding this entire area who’ll come running if I scream.  You better leave.  Now!”  The man’s smirk widened displaying a perfect set of white teeth.  He advanced towards her like a prowling tiger.

              “Let’s not play games, Zora.  You’re an adult now, about to be married and start a new life away from here.”  He gestured to the fortress when he said this.  “And I know you have the intelligence to make rational decisions.  Am I right?”  When she didn’t respond to him again, the man became a bit agitated but continued.

              “Do you remember what I told you last time we were together?  You could be magnificent, you know.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Zora spat.  “You’re nothing but a trickster!  A deceiver!  You lured me out of Mizra under false pretenses when I was nothing but a child!  You preyed on me by making promises that aren’t possible.”

“I did no such thing,” he replied, waving away the insults with his hand. 

“I’m no different than any other human,” Zora pleaded.  “So why do you keep bothering me?” 

“You still don’t understand.  Do you?”  He looked a little sad at this revelation.  “Listen carefully, Zora Winnser.  You have a very special gift, a gift that allows you to control the very essence of all things on earth.  It’s the same gift I have.  While I know you may not understand this now, you will soon.  Therefore, I have a proposition for you.”

“I don’t want anything you have to offer,” Zora growled.  The man barked a laugh as rich and smooth as buttercream. 

“Don’t be so sure of that. Come with me and see for yourself.”

“Why should I listen to anything you say?” Zora demanded through gritted teeth. 

“Because,” he said with a knowing smile, “deep down, underneath all your suspicions, you’re curious about me, about my proposal.  You know you’re different.  You just don’t know why.”  He had inched his way over to her till she could see the streaks of grey in his hair and the smoothness in his lips.  He reached for her hand.

              “Don’t touch me!” Zora yelped, remembering the excruciating spasms of pain that his touch had brought her the last time.  She dodged his grip and turned to flee, but he was faster than her.  He jumped at her then slid his muscular arms around her chest, holding her in place as she kicked his shins.

              “Don’t test me,” he threatened.  “You know I could always just
make
you do what I want.” 

His strong hold tightened around her until her lungs burned and her back popped.  Zora searched her surroundings for a way out, her heartbeat thundering in her head the whole time.  She didn’t know why, but her gaze suddenly redirected to the sky, and she could focus on nothing other than the full moon above her.  Its luminosity was blazing like the sun.

“You can’t make me do anything,” Zora snarled back. 

She didn’t know where it came from, but suddenly the moonlight was in her eyes, blinding her vision and everything around her.  She felt its energy and harnessed it.  A flash filled the sky until there was nothing but a bright, white light wedged between her and her attacker.  She felt its warmness and pushed it hard against her assailant.  The man yelled in anger as he released her and fell backwards to the ground. 

This was her moment to escape, but when she tried to run, her legs wouldn’t move.  She looked down in horror.  Her head was screaming for them to go but her legs felt as if they were bolted to the ground.  Zora swung her arms frantically, a look of panic on her young face. 

A sadistic cackle erupted from the man’s throat as he watched Zora struggle against the paralysis.  He stood up slowly from where he’d been knocked over by Zora’s power.

“Did you honestly think you could intimidate me with that little stunt?”  He shook his head.  “I tried to do this the nice way, but you’ve given me no choice.”  He almost sounded apologetic. 

All of a sudden, Zora screamed out loud and doubled over in pain.  Her skin burned like fire was searing along her flesh where the scar originated.  She looked up to see the man standing over her, watching her writher away in agony and whimper like a child.  He bent down on one knee. 

“Now, are you going to listen to what I have to offer?”  Zora nodded, crying out in anguish, barely hearing the words he was saying.  And then the affliction was gone, leaving nothing but a faint throbbing from the scar on her abdomen. 

The garden was gone too, along with the moonlight and the nectarous scent of flowers in the air.  It was replaced by nothingness, a nothingness that emitted a dreary gray light and a deep heavy silence.  The only tangible thing remaining was the fountain with wide bowls to catch the overflowing water.  The man was standing in front of it, running his hand through the clear liquid and giving her a serious stare.

“Come and see,” he instructed, nodding towards the fountain.  She stood up slowly, testing her legs and feet to make sure they were mobile, and staggered over to the fountain.  She didn’t want to resist doing as he asked, not if it meant the pain in her scar again.  It felt like the stab of a knife between her ribs.

The water that had been slowly dribbling down the sides of the fountain had suddenly reversed its direction, flowing upwards, as if gravity didn’t exist.  Zora watched wearily as the water expanded outward and became a transparent window.  She could see directly into Mizra.

              An image came into focus.  It was a younger version of her mother, and she sat upright in a bed surrounded by midwives and her ladies in waiting.  Her brunette hair was matted to her forehead from sweat, and her face and body looked tired.  In her arms she held a newborn infant in swaddling cloths who slept peacefully against her breast.  Evangeline looked upon the baby with loving, adoring eyes.

The effigies suddenly went blurry and were replaced with another.  It was of Zora as a child, about ten years old.  She was in one of Mizra’s libraries, a place she spent a lot of her childhood.  Evangeline sat next to her on the floor, and they were reading a book and laughing together.  Her mother put her arm around her, drawing her in close, and planted a kiss on the crown of her head.

Zora stared at the scenes, mesmerized.  She looked at the man standing next to her.

“What is this?” she asked.  “I don’t understand.” 

The man didn’t say anything.  He only looked back at the window where another image was forming.  This time Evangeline was sitting atop her throne in the Great Hall, and a group of Samarian citizens gathered before her, coming to express their concerns.  On her right and level with the Queen sat Zora, a bit older.  A gold crown gleaming brightly with Anion diamonds sat on her head.  Every time a citizen would come forth and speak, the Queen would lean over to Zora and talk to her, discussing the issue at hand.  Her mother reached across and squeezed her hand affectionately when they made a decision together.

Zora felt a dull ache in her heart as she watched what played out before her.  She wanted this life.  She wanted to have a loving, kind relationship with her mother, but most importantly, she wanted to stay in Samaria.  She reached out her hand to touch the picture, but the window immediately converted back to water, which flowed through the fountain once more.

              “I can give you this,” the man said softly, reading her body language.  She was leaning towards the watery window with her palm outstretched as if touching the effigy would make it come to life.  “I can change what has passed so that your mother only has feelings of tenderness towards you.  She will want to keep you close as her only kin, and the decision for you to go to Montanisto will never have existed.”

              “So I can stay here?  In Samaria?  Forever?”

              “Of course.” 

              “Why would you do this for me?” Zora scrutinized.

              “Because it’s important to you.”  His deep brown eyes, glowing underneath a coiffure of ebony hair, bore deeply into hers.  For a moment, Zora was spellbound by them. 

She shook her head and looked around the dream like atmosphere, with the simple flowing fountain and the expensively dressed, magical man standing before her, offering her what she wanted most at this very moment.  For only a second, she was curious as to the stranger’s deeper intentions.

             
One thing my mother has taught me is that nothing is ever free,
Zora thought. 
There is always a price.  I’ll find out what his is.

              “What do you require I do?” she asked.  “To receive these gifts you’re offering me.”  The man smiled like he was proud she’d finally put the pieces together.

“Come serve me,” he replied eagerly.  “Become my apprentice, and I will make you great.  I will make you a ruler.  A ruler of many things in this world and beyond.” 

Zora shook her head out of frustration.  This was just like when she was a child.  What made this man think she had some sort of powerful undiscovered ability?  He should have listened the first time when she told him she was nothing special.

              “I’m sorry to tell you this, but you most definitely have the wrong person.  I know all these years you’ve convinced yourself that’s not true, but there is nothing special about me.  I’m not even good enough for my own mother, who’d rather sacrifice severing the ruling bloodline of Samaria than name me her successor.”  The man just rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh.

              “You’re not special you say?  Then tell me how you made those green things grow in the tundra, outside the Anion Valley?  I saw the day that death curse was put on the land.  Nothing should be able to live so beautifully on it.” 

Zora wrinkled her brow at his question.  She’d never thought her connection with the earth and all its growing things was strange; she just did it.  But even Milo had commented on her peculiar abilities, although she’d never before thought that it could mean something more.

              “I’ve gotten your attention now, haven’t I?” the stranger taunted.  “I can show you everything you need to know, Zora.  All you have to do is be my apprentice and serve me.”

             
No
, a voice in the back of her mind whispered. 
Deny him.

              “I don’t believe you can do all these things.  I’ve been deprived of my right to rule Samaria since birth, so how can you undo that?  How can you change reality?” Zora asked dubiously.

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