The Key (13 page)

Prince Lennek stepped toward Bren, staring at him with hate. “You have been caught stealing. The punishment is execution.”

“No!” Bren cried. “I didn’t do anything!”

“Silence!” Prince Lennek screamed. Then softer, “Kill him.” He took a step back.

Bren’s eyes went wide. A soldier stepped forward, lifted his sword, and drove it straight into Bren’s stomach.

Rema screamed and leapt up out of the deep grass,
bolting toward them.

Bren fell forward,
both of his hands clutching the sword protruding from his body. Rema was vaguely aware of her aunt and uncle yelling, but her focus was on Prince Lennek. She wanted to kill him.

When Rema got near Lennek
, a soldier collided with her, knocking her over. The soldier pulled Rema to her feet as she thrashed her body, trying to break free.

“Enough!”
the prince hollered.

Rema glanced over just in time to see both her aunt and uncle on their knees, swords pointed at their chests. She stop
ped struggling.

Bren had fallen to his side, blood soaking the front of him.

“Bren! Can you hear me?” Rema cried.

H
e wheezed and gasped for air, spitting out blood. Rema couldn’t hear anything except a buzzing in her ears. The world around her seemed to swirl away.

The soldier loosened his grip, and Rema broke free. She dropped to her knees next to Bren’s body. Gathering him in
her arms, his blood soaked through the front of her dress. Rema shook her head—this could not be happening.

Bren
gurgled, and then coughed weakly. He didn’t inhale again. His lifeless hands slipped from the sword to the ground. Rema pulled the sword from his stomach, and clenched it tight. Her hands shook as she pointed it toward the prince. The soldiers all tensed, but Lennek raised his hand and they stopped advancing.

Rema
lowered the weapon and sat in the field with Bren’s body strewn across her lap, her tears dripping onto his face. The blood from his chest turned dark red, almost black. Bren’s face turned a grayish white, no longer looking alive. The blood covering Rema’s hands like gloves became sticky as it started to dry. This was all her fault.

Prince Lennek
cleared his throat. “Are you done?”

Rema laid Bren’s body on the ground,
and then stood to face the man responsible for his death. She clutched the sword and took a step toward him. He pointed to his right where Aunt Maya and Uncle Kar were still at the mercy of the swords. Rema took another step closer to the prince and a sword was pushed into Aunt Maya’s clothing, about to pierce her skin. It looked like someone had already sliced Uncle Kar from naval to chest, blood dripping down the front of his abdomen. Now the sword rested above his heart. Rema threw her weapon to the ground and took a step back. The points of the blades moved an inch away from her aunt and uncle.

“I understand,” she said.

“My little escape artist,” Prince Lennek smiled. “We meet again.” He stood before her with a smirk on his face. “What? No reply? This is quite shocking. Let’s hope this day ends better for your family than it did for Bren.” He spoke Bren’s name like it was poison. “Rema,” he said, facing her. “Now that the marriage contract between you and Bren is void, will you marry me?”

E
verything clicked into place. Prince Lennek had Bren killed not for stealing, but in order to end the marriage contract. It was the only way he could marry Rema since the governor had already signed it.

T
wo soldiers stepped forward, taking Uncle Kar and Aunt Maya’s hands, forcing them to the ground and spreading their fingers against the dusty earth. Then each soldier took his dagger and placed it over Kar and Maya’s quivering hands. Her aunt sobbed and her uncle looked grim.

“I’m waiting for your answer
,” Prince Lennek said. The daggers cut into the tops of Uncle Kar’s and Aunt Maya’s fingers, blood welling.

Rema looked at
her uncle. He shook his head. “No, Rema. You can’t.”

She knew there was no way out of this.
If she didn’t agree now, they would start by cutting off her aunt and uncle’s fingers one by one. Then they would move to bigger body parts until either she consented, or her aunt and uncle died. Rema couldn’t allow anyone else to suffer for her actions. She had the power to save them, and she would.

S
ucking in a deep breath, she said, “Prince Lennek, you do me much
honor
. I would be pleased to marry you.” Her words were laced with acid.

“No!” Uncle Kar yelled. A soldier hit him on the back of his head.

“Stop,” Rema screamed.

Prince Lennek came within inches of
Rema. He grabbed her face with one hand and leaned toward her. “Like I said, I always get what I want,” he hissed. “Keep that in mind. We can do things the easy way or the hard way. Understand?”

A soldier raised his sword above Aunt Maya’s head. Rema feared that if he knocked her out, she would never recover.
“Of course, Your Highness,” Rema said. Lennek released her face. She wiggled her jaw, making sure it was still intact.

The prince said,
“Let’s go home. I’m sick of this vile place.” He stomped out of the pasture, and his steward came forward.

“Prince Lennek wishes to return to
King’s City immediately. You’ll be coming with us,” Arnek said.

“Rema!” Aunt Maya screamed
, blood dripping down her hand.

Rema
ran to her aunt and uncle, falling to her knees. She embraced both of them, wanting to comfort and tell them it would be fine. But that would be a lie.

“Let’s go,”
a soldier said.

“Remember what I gave you,” Aunt Maya said softly
into her ear as they embraced. “It holds the key.” Rema had forgotten all about the warm necklace lying against her chest.

“And we’ll let
him
know where you’re being taken,” Uncle Kar whispered. “He’ll find a way to get you out of there.”

Rema had no idea what her uncle was talking about. She was about to ask when a
soldier took her arm and pulled her toward the house.

No,
things most definitely would not be fine.

Darmik

After hauling out the top two rows of wooden boxes, Darmik had to climb into the rectangular hole to reach the remaining ones. The structure was lined with wood, a ladder built into one side. When he reached the bottom, Darmik estimated he was seven-feet deep.

King Barjon quickly became bored and left his son alone in the room.
Darmik removed his tunic, tossing it up onto the table. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he continued to lift the remaining boxes out of the hole in the ground, sliding them onto the floor. Several times, he had to climb out and push the boxes to the far end of the room, making space for the remaining ones. When the last box was shoved up onto the floor, Darmik climbed out and surveyed the mess. There were forty-one boxes total.

Darmik moved between the boxes, making his way to the table. He flipped the pages of the book to the last family
record. The easiest way to verify everything was to put the boxes in order. He started with the king and queen. After locating their boxes, he stacked them on the west side of the room. Then Darmik found the boxes for the two princes and one princess. He lined these boxes up next to their parents. Moving onto the queen and king’s brothers and sisters, Darmik organized the extended family.

Once all the boxes were arranged, Darmik started with King Revan. Placing the wooden box on the table, he lifted the lid. The smell was overwhelming—an odd mixture of decaying rats mixed with smoke. Darmik held his breath, reached in, and pulled out the skull. Then he checked the pouch for the tattoo. Both were accounted for so he replaced the contents, and closed the lid. He let out his breath—forty more to go.

Queen Kayln’s box was also intact. Checking their children, both Prince Devan and Prince Jetan’s boxes were complete. Darmik opened the lid for Princess Amer, lifting out her skull. It was much smaller than the other ones—his hand easily covered more than half of it. Princess Amer must have been an infant. That was a little disconcerting—the idea of decapitating a baby and cutting off her tattoo. Darmik checked the records. Sure enough, the princess was only six months old when she was murdered.

Carefully placing
Princess Amer’s skull back in the box, Darmik pulled the pouch out and opened it up. It was empty. He went back to the record book. There was a note stating that babies didn’t receive their tattoo until the age of one. Why didn’t the tradition start until then? In case the baby died? In Emperion, the royal family and those linked directly by blood were tattooed in visible areas to reveal their status. Darmik was unaware of any secret tattoos, like those used here, to identify the royal line.

Moving on, Darmik continued to verify each box’s contents. It took him a little over an hour to check everything against the book. Every single head and tattoo was accounted for. There was no way for an heir to be alive.

Unless.... Darmik went back to Princess Amer’s information. She was six months old and the skull was in the box, but no tattoo. Babies weren’t marked until age one. Yet, the kingdom now tattooed babies shortly after birth. Darmik assumed the royal family would want their babies tattooed immediately to prevent someone from switching them—putting a commoner in a royal’s place.

Darmik drummed his fingers on the table, lost in thought. His father obviously knew Princess Amer didn’t have a tattoo
. That’s why he marked the book stating that tattoos weren’t given until age one. If this was correct, then there should be some sort of documentation. Darmik just had to find it. Once that was done, he would have solid proof to dispel the rumors.

****

When Darmik entered King Barjon’s office, his father was holding a letter, grinning from ear to ear. “Lennek will be home shortly,” he announced.

Of course
his father would be pleased—the favorite son who could do no wrong was returning from his vacation. Lennek’s entire life was one big vacation.

Darmik’s life, however, was centered on work.
He had only been at his father’s castle for a couple of days and already things had fallen into a routine. Darmik woke up early and trained with his army. Then he met with his lieutenants and messengers, giving their daily reports regarding the status of each company. Afterwards, Darmik liked to take a ride with a small squad of soldiers on the nearby lands just outside the city walls. It offered him the freedom and peace he needed before attending a formal dinner followed by dancing. Then it was off to bed, only to do the entire thing again the next day.

He never stayed at court long.

Most often Darmik was needed elsewhere, and he liked to spend equal time with each company. He tried to avoid the castle, only staying at home as duty required.

Over the past couple of days, Darmik
had searched through various records, trying to verify that the royals received their first tattoo at age one.

“Father, I want to discuss the tattoo matter with you,” Darmik said
, sliding in the seat across from the king.

“There’s nothing t
o discuss. I’ve shown you proof,” the king practically spit at him, his smile now gone. “Besides, we have more pressing matters.”

Darmik wondered what was more important than maintaining control
of the kingdom.

“Lennek,” King Barjon continued, “will be returning with his bride.”

Darmik wondered if this was the reason Lennek had run away to Jarko, because his brother would never settle down—not unless he had to.

“
And I want you to remember our deal,” the king reminded Darmik.

Their deal
—everything with the king was some sort of bargain, with his father always coming out on top.

“Yes,” Darmik said, “I
won’t forget. And I’ll do my part and support his marriage. I just didn’t realize it would be so soon.”

“
They will arrive in a few days. We’ll announce their engagement and have a celebration.”

“A celebration? With the state of the kingdom as it is? Do you think that wise?”

Darmik’s thoughts drifted to the little girl back in Telan with her hair matted, face dirty, and holding the stiff hand of her dead mother. Had she starved to death like so many, or was she still alive? It was wrong for the king to throw a large feast when so many in the kingdom were hungry.

“Did you forget who you’re speaking to?” The king’s face reddened a
s he gripped the edge of the desk, turning his knuckles white.

“I’m sorry, Father. Of course we’ll celebrate,” Darmik forced
himself to say. “Who did you pick for Lennek’s bride?”

“I didn’t. It was difficult enough getting him to agree to settle down. I allowed him to choose his future wife.”

A painful memory threatened to overwhelm Darmik, but he shoved it aside.

“The only recommendation I made, was that the girl be from the lower class.”

“I don’t understand,” Darmik said. “Wouldn’t you want him to marry a wealthy landowner’s daughter?”

After all
, that’s who Lennek usually seduced at court. Darmik couldn’t imagine how upset the landowners would be once they found out Lennek was marrying a commoner.

“
We need stability,” the king responded. “Lennek marrying lower will help bridge the gap between classes. The workers, merchants, farmers, everyone will see her as their future queen. She can help calm the rioting. She will be our tool.” The king sat back in his chair, giving Darmik a measured look. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air between them.

Once again, his father didn’t think
Darmik could adequately control the situation. Regardless, it was an excellent decision. Darmik would rather bring stability and peace to the kingdom through marriage, rather than violence.

“Your Majesty
.” A steward entered, bowing. “The court is ready for you. Petitions will begin once you are ready.”

“
We’re done here.” The king stood and left, his royal-blue cape floating behind him.

Darmik wanted to ride
the black stallion—he needed the freedom of flying through the air and the calmness that riding brought.

Crossing the courtyard from the castle to the royal stables, two young women
stopped in front of him and curtseyed. He vaguely recognized them—one was a daughter of a governor who spent the season here at court, the other was her cousin. Both wore nearly identical dresses—heavy silk with lace, and their arms were linked. Although they were pretty, neither compared to Rema in her plain dress with her fiery personality and piercing eyes. Darmik attempted to pass when the one addressed him further.

“Will you be at dinner this evening, Your Hi
ghness?” Her voice was fluting and kind, but also fake.

“Yes, I’ll be there
,” Darmik answered. “I have a few more days before I leave.”

“Perhaps we will see one another tonight. And if it’s not too forward, will you give me the honor of the
first dance?” she asked sweetly, but her eyes were cold and lifeless. Her cousin gripped her arm in fear, her eyes locked on Darmik’s sword.

Darmik couldn’t even remember
either of their names. He hated that most women were only interested in the crown, and not him as a person. Most were afraid of him since he was the commander. Usually Darmik avoided dancing and slipped out once dinner was over. After all, no one ever missed him, especially when Lennek was around.

“I would be honored to dance with you,”
Darmik politely replied. She batted her eyes, and Darmik resumed walking, forcing them to move aside and let him pass. As soon as their dance was over, he would leave. He hoped he wasn’t inviting this sort of thing to happen more often.

Entering the stables,
the smell of hay and horses made his body instantly relax. The stable hand, Sonya, led his horse out of the stall, saddled and ready to go.

“Your Highness,
” Sonya said. “You’re running late today. I trust you’re well?”

“It is
,” Darmik responded. “Thanks for getting him ready.”

“My pleasure,” Sonya said
as he mounted.

The prince nodded and
stormed out of the stables on horseback.

After all the
pretentious people, the same thing day in and day out, Darmik wanted something different. His mind drifted to Rema with her exotic looks and never-ending curiosity. If only he could ride straight to Jarko and find her. Urging his horse faster, Darmik distanced himself from the castle.

Today, he
rode alone.