Darkstone - An Evil Reborn (Book 4) (20 page)

“Not too high. They don’t collect snow like others further east,” Fateem said leaning over, looking at the map. Her hair had become unfastened in places during their afternoon efforts and some of it cascaded on the topography.

He sniffed the scent of flowers of some kind.

“You’re a little close, my Prince,” she said.

Vishan straightened up, not realizing how far he leaned over. “I’m sorry.”

“You shouldn’t normally, but these are hardly normal circumstances. I think we’ve done enough for today. Tomorrow we’ll talk about the Darkstone, itself.” She shivered with excitement and left the room. He drew in her lingering scent. Vishan, remember that you are a prisoner of deceptive people who are joyfully pulling off your wings. He chided himself for softening up. He’d try to find an appropriate demeanor for tomorrow.

~~~

Chapter Sixteen

~

V
ishan had skipped dinner with the Baron.
He received a note from Vestya stating that the Baron would be gone this morning and that his morning meal would be sent up. Breakfast arrived a few minutes later. The plate had a few slices of bread along with a mug of water. Enough was enough. He wouldn’t be regarded as some prisoner. He grabbed his sword and it felt lighter in the scabbard.

Vish pulled out the blade, to find there wasn’t one. Someone had cut his weapon down so that the hilt would barely stay in the scabbard while he spent the afternoon with Fateem and Vestya. The knife his father had given him so long ago still was intact, only because it had stayed with him.

Such a violation!  He’d have to seal the door and windows from now on. He left for the map room and his next session with Fateem. Enough of this! He ran down the stairs, fists clenched and trying not to shake in fury.

Both women had arrived. Vestya read her book and Fateem shuffled through their notes.

“You’re upset,” Fateem said, gazing into Vishan’s eyes.

“No more than any other prisoner,” Vish said. He wouldn’t complain about his sword, but the bread and water? “I hesitate to say this, but I will treat my future wife as she treats me here and now.”

Vestya sat up. “What did you say?”

“Bread and water, my lady. I will not tolerate being treated like a prisoner in a dungeon. If it continues, I will treat you as I have been treated once we are married.” Vishan waved his hand to forestall any further comment. “You’ll soon be put aside, Vestya. I’ll say no more.”  

Vestya fled from the room, hand to her mouth and a look of fear in her eyes.

Fateem leaned back laughing. “Certainly you don’t mean it.”

“I certainly do,” he said through clenched teeth. “If I have to marry that wicked woman, I will not accept her as a true wife.”

Her smile faded and she looked a little fearful herself. “I believe you,” she said quietly.

Vishan stalked around the room, breathing heavily. He leaned against the window casing and looked outside, seeing nothing but the vision of his cut-off sword and the tray of bread and water. One could only take so much and he had taken about all he could from these people. He took deep breaths and focused on Ovyr tending to horses just outside the stable. Would the stableman help him? His plan needed Ovyr to buy horses. Vishan nodded his head and took one final deep breath.

His sanity regained, he turned around and rubbed his hands. “Now teach me all I need to know about the Darkstone.”

“What happened other than the bread and water?”

“Fenakyr cut off my sword, to a few inches from the hilt. Does he get pleasure in tormenting people?”

“Yes, he does,” Fateem said. “It’s been horrible living here, but I am without means.” She turned away.

Vishan took her chin in his hand and looked into her tearful eyes. “No longer. We will both escape, but I won’t tell you when or how. Is that fair enough?”

Fateem sighed and put her hand on his. “Yes, I’ll do whatever you want.” She moved close to him, but Vishan backed away.

“Not that. I’ll help you find your Darkstone and then I’ll leave Dakkor, maybe even Zarron. I can lose myself in Besseth. Anything to get away from my father and his evil tests.”

She stepped back just a little and put her hand on his shoulder. “It shall be as you say, my Prince.”  Her words sounded like she attempted to placate him. “Now listen.”

Fateem spent a full hour talking about the Darkstone. This woman truly was obsessed with the jewel.

“So only one with power can touch it?” Vishan said. She really had assembled more information about the stone than he had read.

“A lot of power, or, it is said, you will be sucked into it,” Fateem said.

“And you have a lot of power?” Vishan asked.

“I don’t know. I’ve never been tested, as I told you before. I did speak the truth in the garden. I can do this.” She snapped her fingers and produced a sorcerer’s ball of light.

Vishan didn’t know if that took a lot of power or not. He could do the same. “Did you plan on bringing a sorcerer?”

Fateem’s eyes widened. “I never thought of that. My dream is to be the first to touch the Darkstone in thousands of years. I’ll have enough power to bring us riches, fame, long life. The Darkstone is power!”

“Nothing that you read to me said that. Are you sure it will bring power or is the power merely an augmentation of the sorcerer who touches it?” Vishan looked at Fateem’s sparkling eyes powered by her obsession with the Darkstone. He thought the bauble, if it really existed, would be a dangerous thing. The Great Emperor might have even instructed his sorcerers not to touch it. “Don’t get your dreams mixed up with reality, Fateem. You’ll be disappointed. Now, tell me again how the Purestone darkened?”

“At the moment of the Great Emperor’s death, the stone turned black. One account says that a number of servants without power touched the stone and died. No one else physically touched it after that,” Fateem said. She didn’t even have to refer to the notes she had long since memorized.

Vishan rubbed his chin and tried to put all she had said into perspective. “So what makes you think a powerful sorcerer—”

She flashed a smile at him. “Why not?” She called three light globes and made them spin around each other. “See? I’ll take the Darkstone. It’s my dream and you’ll help me make it come true.”

“Okay. We may have to take a circuitous route to the cave, but we’ll get there. Fenakyr knows about all of this.” Vishan waved his hand over the table with Fateem’s scattered notes. “The first place he’ll look will be towards Onkyr.”

Fateem slid up close to him and pulled his head down and kissed him on the ear. “The Baron has never been interested in my passion, nor Vestya. She had her nose in her romantic novel all morning. No one knows about Onkyr except you and I. Let’s keep it that way.” She stole a kiss, by jumping up and brushing his lips.

Vishan’s head spun. He’d never had a real relationship with a woman before, although he’d had a few barmaids sit on his lap in taverns back at Baku. He smelled her hair again and kissed her again with a ferocity that surprised him. She kissed him right back.

“Enough,” she said as she disengaged. “If they see us kiss, they’ll only keep you away from me. They will enjoy tormenting both of us.”

That thought brought Vishan back down to earth. “Good point.” He straightened up his jacket, even though it didn’t appear to need it. He looked at Fateem breathing a little heavy and smiling at him. They both had let their defenses down and that could be dangerous.

“We will talk about a different place then,” Vishan said as he gathered Fateem’s notes. “Let’s find another destination and make some notes that will lead Fenakyr away from where we want to go. It’s called misdirection.” Vishan said.

Fateem’s eyes shone with excitement. Her expression made him want to cover her face with kisses. Later, it would have to be later.

They began to lay their false trail. It wasn’t necessarily a false trail for Vishan. He still harbored lingering doubts about Fateem. She had that wild air about her and if she led him astray, then he had to prepare himself to dump her immediately and go off on his own. He regretted not telling her, but his personal survival meant everything to him.

“Plotting an escape?”

Vishan jumped at Fenakyr’s words as he sauntered into the map room. “An expedition,” Vish said. “You like sneaking up on people?”

“Sometimes. Often, actually.” The smug look on Fenakyr’s face repelled Vishan.

“Vestya told me that you threatened her earlier this morning. That’s not something I recommend.” Fenakyr said.

“I only said that I would treat her as you have treated me after we are married, nothing more, nothing less. She will not be my only wife.”

Fenakyr pursed his lips. “Is that true, Fateem?”

“It is. I’m sure Vestya was horrified at the thought, though,” she said.

“No beatings? Mutilation?” Fenakyr said.

Fateem laughed. “Is that what she told you?”

“It’s none of your business, girl.”

Fateem snorted. “She plays her own games with her father, as her father plays his with those who can’t fight back.”

“And you would fight back?” Fenakyr sneered at his ward.

Fateem took a step back. “I am out of bounds, aren’t I?”

“You are.” Fenakyr said, glaring at her.

She nodded and took another step back with her head down.

Vishan wondered if this was an act in some play. He didn’t know.

Fenakyr’s presence made everyone uncomfortable. He had an idea. “I only wish to be regarded as a normal person. If you don’t want me to dine with you, then I’d be happy to do so in your kitchens. I’m not a proud man.”

Fenakyr looked up and down at Vish. “I will honor your request. We’ll see just how humble you are. Eat whatever you like in the kitchens.”

His angry words at Vestya had earned him a measure of freedom. He could sequester supplies better that way as well. He wouldn’t be at Fenakyr’s pleasure for long.

“I’ve had enough of you two today. You may both eat in the kitchens the rest of the day.” Fenakyr turned to walk out. “Fateem, I’ll expect to see you at breakfast, tomorrow morning” He said with his back turned to them, his steps fading on the stone floor.

Fateem took a seat and fanned herself. “He scared me to death.”

“Your face is white enough,” Vishan said, smiling after his victory of sorts. He’d take them any way he could. “I’m hungry. We can bring some food back here and work on our expedition.” He winked at Fateem and grinned.

~

Vishan looked at the ceiling in his room, with his hands behind his head as he lay in bed trying to sort out the day. He ran into Ovyr in the kitchens and the man said he could arrange for three horses. Vishan would give him the necessary dreks tomorrow at midday. He didn’t know if he could trust him, but what did Vish have to lose? It was the weakest part of his strategy, but he had to take the risk.

Then Fateem’s face flooded into his mind. He put his hand to his lips thinking of his stolen kisses. She had captivated him. Could he talk her into fleeing to Besseth? She might. He discounted the existence of the Darkstone, but his intention was to continue up and over the mountains into Hyrtor and then northeast to Bomai to take a ship to Besseth. Simple, direct and if they were quick enough, doable.

What would life be like with a woman at his side? He’d never thought of such a normal thing. His mother was one wife of many, but Vishan didn’t think that kind of life suited him. He’d like to have lived with a real father and a mother who wasn’t apt to spend a few nights a month with the husband she shared with many.

He touched his lips again and sighed. He’d kiss her again tomorrow. Could he determine Fateem’s fidelity through her kisses? Dakkoran history told him otherwise and that deflated his emotions. He’d read about seduction and bondage or worse, murder. But what did Fateem gain from him? Disinherited, he represented no promise of wealth or riches, despite her dreams about the Darkstone. Could she love him for whom he was?

~

Fateem sent a message to the kitchens. She wouldn’t be able to help him in the map room today and could he carry on without her? Vestya wanted to spend time in town and Fateem was called upon to be her companion.

Vishan ate a simple meal of thick gruel with raisins and cinnamon mixed in. The cooks had taken pity on him and treated him more like a prince than his host. He thought of Fateem’s eyes, hair and golden brown skin.

The morning seemed to drag on, but Vishan pored over the maps. There were some decent ones of the mountains, after all. He committed them to memory as he took down some notes that he left scattered around that would serve as false trails when he escaped.

The midday meal featured a light mutton stew and fresh bread. Vishan wasn’t familiar with much of the cuisine, but he wanted to put on a little weight for his escape. With the weight came the need for exercise. Ovyr walked in and sat across from Vish. He put his hat down close to Vishan and nodded.

Vish pulled out the agreed upon dreks and slid them under. Ovyr smiled and talked about the weather, something Vishan hadn’t even thought about in his planning. He listened to Ovyr and asked him how the harvests were going.