Azurite (Daughter of the Mountain Book 1) (48 page)

“Do you still believe that we could be good together?  As rulers of the newly integrated Samaria?” 

“What are you getting at?” he asked suspiciously.

“Let me explain this in a way you’ll understand,” Evangeline said, folding the excess fabric of her ridiculous dress underneath her.  “On the one hand, we have the Noman army under your rule.  Right now, they are following your instructions, ruthlessly pillaging my lands and murdering my people.” 

The Queen didn’t try to keep the loathing she had for Noman army out of her voice.   “I was too arrogant to admit that there is no way we could have defeated you, Olger.  Your army is too large and too strong, and according my to scouts, the Noman warriors will be here as early as morning to take Alumhy.”  Olger’s face neither denied nor confirmed Evangeline’s speculations, but she could see the greedy victory in his eyes.

“On the other hand, we have Samaria.  Despite being less powerful, I engage the services of one of the most feared beings in the world.  He alone could destroy you, your army, and the entire country of Nomanestan, even without the forces of the Samarian Guard standing united behind him.” 

Evangeline’s voice became lower and more threatening.  “You’ve only seen a glimmer of what the
Slythos’
power can obliterate.  Imagine the destruction that will follow once he’s fully unleashed.”  If Olger’s russet skin could become one shade lighter, it did now as the blood drained from his face in fear.

“As you see, neither one of us
really
wins if we keep going at it like this,” Evangeline added.  “We will destroy ourselves if we continue participating in this never ending circle of violence.” 

Evangeline knew she had Olger’s attention.  But the Queen also knew that if it wasn’t for Heath and the engrained terror that all mortals felt towards the
Slythos
beings, Evangeline would have been murdered by Olger’s hands before the conversation with him had even begun.  Olger shifted his contemplating gaze over to Evangeline. 

“You are a shrewd Queen,” he said.  “Your schemes only confirm the judgments I’ve had about you all along.”  He reached up and traced the outline of his dehydrated lips with his fingers.  Finally, he stopped their movement, fixed his gaze on her, and smiled frostily. 

“
We
are exactly the same,” his hissed.  “Maybe that’s why I’ve always hated you.  But you have deal Evangeline Winnser.  I will terminate the movement of my Noman troops across Samaria’s land and forbid their taking of anymore Samarian lives.  In return, I will be a Samarian King.” 

The Queen stood up, feeling victorious and confident in her persuasion.  She wiped the dirt from the cellar floor off the back of her puffy dress and extended her hand out to Olger as a means to seal the deal they’d just made.  But the Overlord pounced at her, leaping up from the floor despite his injuries.  With all his weight, he shoved her back into the wall, and Evangeline’s head whiplashed against it painfully.  She cried out, and her voice echoed through the cell.  Olger’s hand sprang up and gripped her throat, his fingers coiling around her small neck like a snake.  Then he began to squeeze. 

Evangeline gasped and struggled against him.  She beat his arms and kicked at his shins, but his hand only tightened its grip until she couldn’t breathe.  She stopped thrashing and gaped at him pleadingly, feeling the burning hot sensation of his muscles crushing her windpipe.  The Overlord gave her a sinister grin with his perfect teeth still dripping blood from her blow.

“Don’t think for one second, woman, that you have control over me.  I can still ruin this land and you along with it.” 

He moved in closer to her, staring at her hungrily.  Evangeline tried to breath, but her breaths were constrained; she was starting to get lightheaded.  “Of everything in this country, fifty percent of it is now mine.  I want the first half of every shipment of gold that comes in from this damned crystal of yours.  And don’t dare threaten me with this so-called sorcerer.  I’m confident he can still die by the same sword I can.” 

Evangeline heard Olger’s words, but spots were beginning to form in her eyes from the asphyxiation.  She struggled against his deadly grasp, whining like a dying animal, begging for him to release her.

When he finally did, she fell to the ground and pulled in deep gulps of air till her lungs felt like they’d explode.  Olger had taken his place back on the floor against the wall where he’d been only seconds earlier.  She was trembling slightly and her windpipe felt like it’d been flattened under his large, war hungry hands. 

She sat motionless on her hands and knees, waiting till her heartbeat was back to normal and she knew she could stand without passing out.  Olger watched her the whole time with a smug expression.  Finally, Evangeline straightened up and staggered over to him, telling herself over and over to refrain from shoving her foot down his throat.

“You’ll get half as my husband and King of Samaria,” Evangeline coughed.  Her voice sounded like it was covered in sand.  “Tomorrow morning at day break, my soldiers will escort you, heavily guarded, back out to the field.  There you will command your troops to halt their advancement into Alumhy and announce that a peace treaty has been obtained.  From there, I give your troops permission to make camp in the valley behind Alumhy until such announcement has been made to the Samarian citizens.  Do I make myself clear?”  Olger smiled again.

“Crystal.” 

Evangeline turned her back to him and stormed out of his cell.  She had never felt so much hatred for anyone in her entire life, and she’d just agreed to crown him King!  She thought back to Heath, and her trust in him wavered slightly.  Maybe Olger was right.  Maybe she
was
possessed by this young sorcerer’s powers after all, and she didn’t even realize it.

Chapter 28

            
 
The battle on the outskirts of the slot canyon had continued on gruesomely for three more days and two nights, even after Olger had been intercepted and taken back to Mizra by Captain Atwater.  Samarian reinforcements came quickly from the outposts closer to the city due to Lee’s communication with them regarding what had happened at the canyon.  Several smaller Noman battalions en route from Cliff’s Landing surprised the Samarians when they attacked them from the north, where the land was more open, but hilly and rocky. 

The unearthly, magical being that had been hiding along the ridge of the canyon slipped away into the night after the first day, when he’d opened up the ground and swallowed Olger’s main forces, leaving the Samarians to fight the lesser Noman troops unaided.  Under Brutus’s commanded, they managed to hold their ground through endless hours of combat.  As sunset fell on the third day of fighting, a platoon of Samarian soldiers appeared riding on horseback, coming from Alumhy. 

Leading the platoon was Major Vincent Lowe, and next to him rode Captain Lee Atwater.  Between them, riding on a solitary horse yet chained to both Lee and Vincent, was Olger Guttensen.  Blue banners threaded with the Samarian crest that normally accompanied the Samarian cavalry had been flipped upset down, and the tops were now replaced with white flags that usually implicated surrender.

              The remaining Noman battalion had gone silent, staring speechless as the Samarians encroached on their battleground with their Overlord chained between them like a dog.  The Samarian platoon halted, and Olger, Lee, and Vincent rode on towards the enemy who was positioned in battle mode.  The Nomans were hunkered lower to the ground with their spears thrust outward, ready to be launched.  Once stopped, Vincent and Lee unchained Olger so that he was free to go on.  The Overlord dismounted and walked over to meet with the Noman officers who’d come forth from the masses of men.  Vincent and Lee retreated into the ranks of Samarians, spreading words that sounded like ‘cessation of hostilities’ among them.  

              Brutus could do nothing other than lower his sword and gather his remaining men together as rumors of peace between the Samarians and the enemy rapidly spread.  He watched as the Overlord, beaten as he was, wandered through the ranks of Nomans unchained and unhindered by the Queen.  The acid in Brutus’s stomach churned as the intentions of Queen Evangeline became clearer to him; she meant not to eradicate the Overlord or his people, but to unify them despite the violent history between the two countries.  For the first time in his life, Brutus saw his world melt away before him, and the future of Samaria became as blurry as the bottom of a murky lake.

***

Three weeks later

It was an unusually windy day in the city of Alumhy.  Horizontal layers of clouds covered the sky from mountain peak to mountain peak so that no blue sky was even visible.  Brutus Bludworth was walking along the deserted streets of the city, coming back from the outskirts of the Anion Valley where the Noman army was encamped.  Despite his injuries, Alvard had survived the beatings Brutus and Lee had given him and had been reinstated as the Noman commander.  Brutus was returning from a brief meeting the Queen had forced him to have with the soldier.

It was the weekend; a time when Alumhy should have been bustling with activity, but that was no longer a reality.  The streets were no longer a healthy commercial avenue for traveling people, peddlers, or wagons bringing goods to Samaria.  What remained of the cobblestone throughways was dotted with muddy water and debris.  Overall, it was grim and depressing place to be.  Brutus glanced above him as he moved, noticing that no more Samarian banners hung patriotically from business windows.  They had been replaced by wooden shutters or metal bars.  The whole city had become grey and colorless.

Brutus caught glimpse of a lone woman shuffling along the streets hulling a jug of milk.  With her other hand she held a scarf over her head to keep her hair from becoming unraveled by the breeze.  When she saw Brutus, her pretty eyes widened in fear, and she increased her pace, shuffling passed empty shops before disappearing down a dark alleyway.  Brutus just sighed to himself, listening to the clop of his footsteps along the empty streets as he headed back to Mizra.

Once word of peace spread throughout Samaria, Brutus had returned back to Alumhy with Lee and Vincent.  Shortly after, Queen Evangeline held an assembly with her advisors and military officers in order to communicate her plans to marry the Overlord and name him King of Samaria.   The reason she gave was that a union between the two rulers would bring amity and coalition to the north.  Considering the threats she’d received from Leonardo Santini and the Sovereign Alliance, Evangeline expected a political war with them at anytime, and she needed the men and resources that Nomanestan would provide.

Today was Queen Evangeline’s wedding day, and it would take place in the Great Hall right before sunset.  The Queen had specifically asked Brutus and Alvard to bulk up military presence in Alumhy before the wedding. The assigned mixture of Samarian and Noman forces were to patrol the streets all day and all night as a means to keep her safe, and they were instructed to have the Samarian citizens indoors by nightfall.  Deep down, Brutus suspected the Queen feared an uprising from the citizens of Samaria, and she was trying to keep them under control by using their fear of the Nomans against them.  So far, it appeared to be working.

Behind him, on the green hills of the Anion Valley, camped the army of Nomans from the vale.  Not all of the soldiers had decided come to Alumhy from the ravaged battlegrounds, but at least half were there.  Evangeline had forced hundreds of households in the city to quarter the Nomans, providing them food, shelter, and other resources at their personal expense.  Just in the past week, there had been dozens of beatings, murders, and rapes by both the Nomans and the Samarians. 

You can’t tame to untamable,
Brutus thought sadly.

The Queen’s wedding wasn’t for a few more hours, and Brutus was going to spend the remaining time in between with Talan Leatherby.  With all that had been happening, the two advisors hadn’t had a chance to regroup and discuss the vicissitude of their Queen and their country, especially since their plan to involve Arvil Pennington and Leonardo Santini to remove the Queen from power fell flat.

As Brutus approached Mizra’s iron gate, a loud whipping noise caused him to look up at the heavens.  The last Samarian banner in the city was thrashing wildly against the howling winds.  Its glittering silver thread outlining the majestic Anion Mountains looked distorted as it flapped fiercely against the metal bars.  Suddenly, the final thread holding it to the pole ripped free, and the banner was taken away into the sky by a fierce gust of wind.

***

Two hours later, Brutus and Talan made their way to the Great Hall to celebrate the union between Evangeline and Olger.  The halls of Mizra were quiet with unspoken dread as the Queen’s advisors walked slowly among them.  Samarians were known as a merry lot who enjoyed festivals and parades, and normally these celebrations were hosted in the city of Alumhy.  A royal marriage or coronation would have been at the top of any Samarian’s list as a reason to throw an extravagant party or celebrate joyously in the streets.  But as Brutus and Talan looked out of the large arched windows of the fortress, Alumhy looked like the remains of a city abandoned long ago.  It was a bleak sight to behold for the two loyal countrymen.

Evangeline had the Great Hall prepped for a simple yet elegant wedding.  The feast tables that usually occupied the space had been removed, giving the room a larger, more spacious appearance.  Large colorful banners with the Samarian coat of arms hung at equal intervals from the ceiling.  Taking the space in between each Samarian banner was a newly added Noman one.  It was dull brown with a primitive design of a growling bear stitched onto the face.  Overall, the colors of the Nomanestan crest looked like a fleck of dirt among the brilliance of Samarian indigo and silver glamour.

Several three-tiered wrought iron chandeliers blazed with candles, spreading warm flame light across the floor of the hall.  A lavish imported aisle runner woven with camel hair wool from the country of Wayanee had been laid down the middle of the room and brought with it a sense of exoticism.  At the end of the hall sat two golden thrones, one for Evangeline and one for Olger.  Evangeline had requested Mizra’s blacksmiths to design two new thrones for her and her husband by melting down the metals used for the late King Edgar and Queen Cecelia’s thrones.  She seemed to be removing their memory from Samaria, one little piece at a time. 

What the blacksmiths had created as a result was far more lavish than anything Evangeline’s predecessors would have used.  Olger’s throne was box-like and masculine, with large square armrests and a rectangular back.  Above the plush softness of the seat was the carved out head of a bear, plated in gold, with sapphires for eyes.  Its mouth was gapping wide open with fangs as sharp and thick as icicles.

              Evangeline had a more feminine throne fashioned with large curving feet and a tall, slender back.  Small flecks of diamond, topaz, sapphire, and aquamarine had been laid into the back of the chair in festive floral patterns that glittered in the light.  Between the flowers, inscribed on the entire face of the throne’s gold plating were Samarian runes.  Although most Samarians knew little of the ancient language, Brutus suspected it was Evangeline’s discreet way of rebelling against Olger Guttensen.  Plus, it was beautiful to look at.

              The group gathered to celebrate the two rulers’ matrimony was small.  Only Evangeline’s most trusted advisors, Brutus and Talan, along with Lee Atwater and several of the Queen’s ladies and high servants were in attendance.  Wealthy Samarian land or business owners hugged the back of the room, unsure how to approach their new King.  Olger had Alvard and several other soldiers in attendance.  Leading the ceremony, and the one that would ultimately unite the tyrant with the Queen, was a Noman spirit man. 

              Brutus and Talan stood outside the entrance to the Great Hall, peeking in every few seconds beyond the drape that covered the doorway.  Olger had already arrived and was waiting at the end of the Hall for his Queen.  He was dressed in plain breeches and an open leather vest that displayed his chest.  His hair was pulled back, and bronze jewelry hung from his ears and was woven into his beard.  Black liner encircled his charcoal eyes making them look like dark pits of tar painted on a sun worn face.

The two advisors didn’t hear Queen Evangeline approaching silently behind them.  Her wedding dress was white, with a deep plunge neck and finely threaded gossamer sleeves that fell from her shoulders to her hands.  Her corset was laced up the back with silk thread, and millions of shimmering white opal beads were woven in graceful patterns across the skirt.  Her dark hair stood out like melted chocolate against the pure white of her dress, and it was pulled back away from her porcelain face in a classy knot. 

“Why are you doing this?” Talan demanded as soon as he noticed his Queen silently facing them.  “Have you lost your bloody mind?  Those people in there are murderers!  Do you think Samarians are safe just because you’re marrying the Overlord?  Well, we’re not!  I know you believe allying our countries will create peace, but trust me, in the end it will be Samarian blood that runs in the streets, not Noman.”  Talan was quivering in anger as he chastised the Queen.  “You better watch your neck, because you might just wake up one day with Olger’s dagger protruding from the back of it!”

Evangeline didn’t move as Talan yelled passionately at her.  Any person who raised their voice to the Queen would be quickly silenced, but she let Talan scream and yell at her because it wouldn’t change her decision.  She hadn’t seen Talan or Brutus since they’d returned back from fighting Olger’s troops in the field, and as she beheld them, her crystal blue eyes stung with invisible tears.  Her heart genuinely ached for the hardship they’d been through.  They had fought for her out of loyalty, and perhaps the intangible hope that Samaria could be saved by its people’s own strength and courage. The experiences they’d received were permanent and life changing, and they’d gotten them because of her.  Evangeline knew her advisors would perceive her marriage to Olger as the ultimate form of betrayal, but she truly had no other choice. 

If only I could tell them. If only they knew,
Evangeline though inwardly. 
What I do now, I do to redeem myself, and Samaria.  The Elixir of Life is my salvation, and its essence will open doors of opportunity for my immortal reign.  I will do whatever I have to do to get it, even if it means uniting Samaria and Nomanestan into one supreme country.  No one can stop me now.

Evangeline didn’t say anything to Talan when he was done scolding her, or Brutus who stood defiantly next to him.  All she could do was redirect her lamenting gaze straight forwards and walk right past her last two advisors as if they weren’t even there.  Her sashaying hips disappeared beyond the drapery.  Brutus felt the burning heat of anger ignite in the pit of his core. 

“She doesn’t have anything to say for herself,” Brutus said hotly.  “After everything we’ve done for her.  After everything we’ve scarified.  Nothing.”

“We should just leave, escape to Rienne like Arvil,” Talan replied angrily.  “From what I saw at Center Market, Chancellor Santini isn’t going to let Evangeline get away with this tyranny.  Our first attempt at removing her from the throne may have failed, but I have faith the Sovereign Alliance will help us take back our country from the Nomans.”