The Carnelian Tyranny: Savino’s Revenge (17 page)

In the soft glow of candlelight, Darian stood in the middle of the Knight’s Hall, his arms around Marisa. She was pressing her cheek against his breastplate, clinging tightly to him as if she would never let go. He took her hand and held it over his heart. “Marisa, I shall return. I pro
mise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she answered in a melancholy voice that echoed in the empty hall. A lone tear rolled down her cheek. He wiped it
away.

“Have you so little faith in my battle skills, dea
rest?”

“No; I just know who you’re up aga
inst.”

Pointing to the circle of swords high up on the wall with a blue coat-of-arms in its center, he cupped his hand under her chin and lifted it, forcing her to look him in the eye. “Do you see that ring up there? When I return, we shall place your sword amongst the others of the Fiore dyn
asty.”

“I don’t have a s
word.”

“Then I shall have one made especially for
you.”

She gazed up at the wall, her eyes roaming the various blades that had belonged to centuries of Crocine monarchs before her. “I don’t deserve to have mine hung on that wall. I haven’t earne
d it.”

“I am fully confident that you shall prove your worth very quickly. In fact,” he added, “I believe that you will soon become the greatest monarch there ever was in the history of Carn
elia.”

“If you’re not here with me, I don’t want my sword up there,” she answered gl
umly.

“You must have faith. That which must happen shall happen before I can return to hold you in my arms a
gain.”

“But why
now?
Why not wait until morning and then l
eave?”

He shook his head. “No sleep for us tonight. We ride through the night and will not stop for rest until tomorrow morning. Every second co
unts.”

Releasing her arms from around his waist, her hand brushed his sword. “Oh, my father’s silver saber! Are you taking it with you into ba
ttle?”

“Yes. Do you app
rove?”

“Of course I do,” she said, wiping her damp cheeks. “It’s almost as if he was still wit
h us.”

“It is an exquisite we
apon.”

He ran his fingers over the smooth ridges of the handle, slowly unsheathing it to examine the blade. The thought of taking a piece of their family with him into battle comforted him som
ehow.

“Darian, do you remember my fa
ther?”

“A little,” he said, admiring the fine details on the hilt of the sword. “I still remember him carrying this everywhere and how fascinated I was by it.” He chuckled. “Now I suppose that he was just keeping it within easy reach should his future son-in-law ever cross his daug
hter.”

A smile crept across her face but then faded slowly, her expression turning solemn. “He would’ve been so proud to call you his son-in-law. Do you know
that?”

“I know,” he said. “And I wish I would have had the opportunity to speak with him, man-to
-man.”

“Well, he obviously approved of you if he was willing to hand over his only daug
hter.”

“Not that he had much of a choice. It was either me or Savino, and that does not instill much confid
ence.”

“My parents would have chosen you even if there had been a thousand Fiore princes to choose from,” she replied, touching his nose with her finger and gazing at him lovingly. Just then, the citadel bells began to peal in the tower high above them, marking the evening hour of six o’c
lock.

He looked at her and sighed. “We really must be going now. And, upon my return, I shall attend your coronation. That shall sustain me with all the hope that I
need.”

Her gaze fell to the floor. “I’ve been such an idiot. You know I really do want to marry you, don’t
you?”

“Just knowing you are here waiting for me is enough. You shall choose the date as soon as you are r
eady.”

“But I’m ready
now.”

He grinned. “There’s no time, my love, and besides, our circumstances demand that it be an elaborate,
royal
wed
ding.”

“Then what do you say to getting married on your birthday? That way, you can still keep your promise to your mo
ther.”

“How do you know about that?” he asked, stunned by her remark. His eyes rolled as he shook his head in realization. “Of course, Ada
lina.”

She smiled knowi
ngly.

“That only gives us eight months to prepare,” he said. “Will it be en
ough?”

“Believe me—it’s gonna be way too long for me.” She gazed at him with a sheepish smile. “I should have married you the first day you proposed. After all, we have been engaged for eighteen years
now.”

He smiled sweetly at her. “Farewell, Maraya. I shall think of you every day and dream of you every n
ight.”

Leaning down to kiss her, he felt tied to her by an invisible bond so strong it could never be broken. He wasn’t even gone yet, but already he missed the softness of her hair, her sultry voice, and her dazzling s
mile.

He stepped back to admire her one last time, staring solemnly into her olive-tinged eyes. Then he turned to lead her out into the courtyard, the sober thought that he might never return suddenly plaguing his
mind.

And when he gazed upon the army of more than one thousand souls waiting for him to lead them into battle, he swallowed the lump in his throat and raised his chin in defi
ance.

Marisa glanced around in awe at the gathering of men and horses saddled up, preparing themselves for combat. It was a remarkable collection of warriors, knights and what appeared to be regular, ordinary men. The noblemen wore tailored suits of black armor and rode on horses draped in their family colors and cr
ests.

Shields, swords, daggers, crossbows and all sorts of strange weapons that Marisa had never seen before were strapped to the men’s backs. Weapons which could mean the difference between life and death for these men. Her heart sank in the knowledge that some would never come back to the families waiting patiently for them to re
turn.

Watching Darian’s graceful, masculine frame mount Obsidian with ease, she choked back a sob, fighting against the tide of tears that threatened to erupt. Somehow she was unable to shake the horrid feeling that it was the last time they would ever see each o
ther.

He turned to look at her one last time, his eyes lingering on hers until at last his lips mouthed the words ‘I love you.’ He tugged on Obsidian’s reigns and dug his heels in, leading the army down toward the main gate of the castle. Lady Matilda followed behind on a dapple-gray horse while Bruno flanked her on a chocolate brown mare. The dull, clopping noise of horses’ hooves on the snow-covered cobblestones filled the air as Marisa moved over to stand between Cinzia and Ada
lina.

Cozimo, Tino, Adalina and Helena lifted their hands to the departing army with a solemn wave. Marisa reached down and took Adalina’s hand, giving it a squeeze and praying a silent prayer that all the men would return home again safely. A horrible, sinking feeling spread through her chest as she wondered how she could even continue to breathe now that half of her body had been ripped
away.

CHAPTER 17

ANDRE

Arrie wandered into the kitchen, searching for something in which to transport Jackson back to Crocetta. In the corner, there was a large basket with a lid. He placed it on the table and lifted the puppy into it, lowering the
lid.

He f
roze.

Somewhere in the distance, there was a low rumbling sound of horse’s hooves pounding the road. Straining to listen, his carefree expression transformed into one of concern. He had to get out of there before Savino’s men returned to Beau
riél.

He closed the oaken door behind him and hurried over to Concrete. Quickly mounting him, Arrie held the basket firmly under his arm as he dug his heels into the horse’s belly. The horse kicked up bits of snow as it galloped up the long driveway toward the main
road.

As the thunder of hoof beats grew louder, Arrie stopped his horse just short of the wrought-iron gate and quickly glanced around. Among the barren winter landscape of the grounds, the evergreen trees and shrubs lining the driveway still seemed dense enough to hide a man and his h
orse.

He dismounted, leading Concrete off the driveway and into the trees. Peering out through the small gaps between the branches, he prayed that they could not be seen from the road. As the army of men and horses neared the entrance of Beauriél, he spotted a familiar face. Lord Domenico was riding beside Darian in the lead with Matilda and Bruno riding just behind
them.

Arrie emerged from the bushes and opened the
gate.

“Lord Arrigo!” Darian called, bringing Obsidian to a stop. “I am so happy we got to see you before we
left.”

“Likewise, Sire,” he said, strolling over to meet
them.

“
Whoa.”

Darian dismounted and took him aside, his brow furrowed with worry. “The situation is much worse than I had previously expressed to Her Highness and both of our families,” he said in a low voice so the others couldn’t hear. “I did not want them to worry. But you and I both know that I might never re
turn.”

“Nonsense, cousin. There is not a better warrior in all of Crocetta. You are too modest about your skills on the battlef
ield.”

Darian’s eyes locked on his. “You know that I have looked on you as my own brother all these years and I trust you with my life. Swear to me now that, should anything happen to me, you will be there for Marisa and take care of
her.”

“I shall pray for your safe return,
Sire.”

“Promise me you will take care of her in
every
possible
way.”

Arrie studied his cousin’s face, knowing exactly what he was asking of him. “I shall, I promise,” he said sob
erly.

Darian pulled him into a tight embrace. “Thank you, my brother. Pray for Garon’s mercy on us for a safe return.” He nodded solemnly at Arrie before mounting Obsidian to continue the m
arch.

Arrie bowed to him, waving as the long procession moved forward. Once all the men in the brigade had passed, he mounted Concrete and headed back toward Crocetta, anxious to reach the safety of the citadel before it got
dark.

Remembering his promise to Darian, he prayed that it would be one duty he would never need to ful
fill.

That evening after dinner, Helena suggested that they retire to the Jade Room for refreshments. Adalina, Arrie, Cinzia and Tino sat down to play a game of cards, but Marisa sat silently in front of the fire, staring sadly into the fl
ames.

When she saw the angst in her future daughter-in-law’s eyes, Helena moved from her chair to sit down next to her. “Your Highness, please do not worry. My son is a superb warrior. Not only is he physically strong, but he is mentally strong; much like my André
was.”

“What was Darian’s father like?” Marisa asked qui
etly.

“He was a very private person, a quiet and humble man. When I first met him, I thought he was arrogant, but I was wrong. There was never a more selfless nor giving man in this w
orld.”

“He sounds a lot like Da
rian.”

Helena nodded. “Although your grandfather was nearly fifteen years older than Darian’s father, he still came to my husband whenever he needed counsel about something. It was always my André who was his voice of re
ason.”

“Darian’s father was his adv
isor?”

Helena nodded. “Your grandfather, Cerrino Fiore, was a passionate king and well-loved by the people, but André kept his brother tethered to the real world, content to remain in the royal shadows. He never desired the burden of responsibility that comes with the th
rone.”

“So there was never any rivalry between
them?”

“There is always a small amount of rivalry between brothers of royalty. But the fact that Cerrino was years older probably dissolved any bitterness that might have exi
sted.”

“Oh.”

“The only cause for jealousy on my husband’s part was the fact that he never knew his father the way Cerrino did. King Petrus died when André was just a boy and it impacted him for the rest of his life. Just as the death of Darian’s father has also affected
him.”

“I wish I could have met Prince André. From what I’ve heard from Darian, he sounds like an incredible
man.”

“Indeed, he was. I miss him every single day. He would be so proud of both Darian and Adalina now. Darian was but fifteen when André
died.”

“How did you meet
him?”

She smiled. “From the day I was born, we had an arranged marriage. But I did not even know this until after we had already
met.”

“You were engaged to him before you
met?

“Yes.” She laughed. “I was young, only eighteen when we were introduced at my birthday ball. He was ten years older, but oh, so handsome and das
hing!”

“Just like Da
rian.”

She nodded. “Apparently he was smitten with me from that very first night, but I did not discover it until much later. As I said before, he was a shy man, although at the time I decided that it was arrogance. In truth, it was a wonder that he ever gathered up the courage to even speak to me. I loved him from the first moment I saw him. But I thought that André was not at all interested i
n me.”

“Hmm, sounds somewhat familiar,” Marisa j
oked.

“The Fiore men are all alike.” She smiled, shaking her head. “In any case, we were happily married for almost twenty years. My life shattered the day I heard he was
dead.”

“Darian told me about it. That must have been a
wful.”

Her eyes grew distant, remembering that horrible day. “I had no reason left to live save our two young children.” She glanced over at Adalina, watching her laugh from just having beat Arrie with a winning hand. “They are all that have kept me going sometimes in my
life.”

“I’m so sorry,” Marisa whisp
ered.

She laid a hand across Marisa’s, her face brightening. “Do not worry about Darian. He can take care of himself. The two of you shall be together again in less than a fortn
ight.”

Marisa shook her head. “I’m just not used to the possibility of losing a loved one in battle. Especially one so close to my heart. Most people I’ve known who’ve passed away were all elderly or
sick.”

“Then you have been most blessed in
deed.”

“I feel so fortunate to have found him and I can’t stand the thought of losing him
now.”

“I know, dear, but you must have f
aith.”

“Faith that he won’t get ki
lled?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Faith that you shall have the strength to face whatever happens.
Whatever
hap
pens.”

“Wake up!” a warrior shouted, barging into the tent. “Be ready to move out in ten minutes!” He kicked Alessio, Mark and Eman each in the back to wake
them.

Startled out of a deep sleep, Mark sat up, his heart pounding with a rush of adrenaline. He could see that it was still dark outside and guessed it was probably somewhere around four in the mor
ning.

“Where are we going?” Alessio asked, groggy from s
leep.

“Silence!” the warrior barked at
him.

The three men stood up, keeping their blankets wrapped tightly around them as they braved the cold night air. Eman’s countenance was calm and peaceful as they emerged from the tent, but there was a look of concern in his uncle’s
face.

Two burly warriors herded them into the wagon. Mark’s body shivered as he sat bleary-eyed in the chilly air. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, wondering where they were going at such a strange hour of the night. They sat in silence for several minutes before the convoy finally moved
out.

As the wagon lumbered down the road, Alessio peered out through the small window and his body stiff
ened.

Suddenly, he knew exactly where they were g
oing.

Darian’s mind wandered as the large company of men and horses lumbered along in silence. He watched the cloud of steam emerge from his lips and dissipate into the frigid night
air.

With the light of the moon reflecting off the thick layer of snow, the road was illuminated enough that they had no need for torches to light the way. The men admired the beauty of the countryside sprawled out below them as they dipped down into the spectacular Andrene Va
lley.

Darian glanced over his shoulder and spotted Bruno riding next to Mattie. He smiled to himself. It was not the first time he had seen that smitten look in the young man’s eyes. But the fact that Bruno’s sentiments might actually be reciprocated this time, and by his beautiful cousin no less, was pleasing to
him.

He thought about the evening several months ago after he, Arrie and Marisa had been chased by the
rijgen
through the Mychen Forest
.
Under normal circumstances, he would have been pleased and proud of himself in slaying six of the hairy beasts all in one day. But on that particular night, all he could think of was Maraya’s sudden reappearance in Carn
elia.

More than a decade or so earlier when he had been told that the royal family had been lost at sea, Darian’s future with Princess Maraya quickly became a sad chapter of his past. The memory of her faded until it was erased completely from his life. He moved forward until tragedy struck once more with his father’s death. Unable to cope with his loss, he joined the Carnelian Academy and concentrated on becoming the soldier and man of honor his father had intended for him to be. He ignored the entitlements that traditionally came with being a senior member of the royal family and fought to earn the respect of the Carnelian people on his own terms. And he succeeded. He finally accomplished the much-needed stability he had been searching for. But when Princess Maraya reappeared in his life, his world was knocked entirely off its axis. From the first moment he gazed upon her long chestnut hair and fiery eyes, he knew that everything had changed once a
gain.