The Carnelian Tyranny: Savino’s Revenge (15 page)

Down the hill, Deimos was shoving Eman into the back of a jail wagon. Alessio and Mark were already inside, handcuffed to wooden benches. Deimos signaled the driver and the wagon lumbered down the hill, pulled by four large horses and flanked by several warriors walking alongsid
e it.

She had to get to the citadel as quickly as possible. The sun was just about to come up, and she had to warn Darian. Grabbing one of Eman’s old tunics, she pulled it over her nightdress for extra warmth. Then she grabbed her cloak off the chair near the fire, slipped it on and moved toward the
door.

Pulling it shut behind her, she ran down the stone pathway. The wagon was already a considerable distance away, lumbering along noisily toward Beauriél and away from Crocetta. Perhaps it was a good thing that they weren’t going in the direction of the city. But where were they taking her uncle and Mark? Back to Abb
adon?

Spotting the human chain of warriors posted along the main road every few hundred feet, she figured it would be too risky to follow it back to the city. The warriors might not be able to see her, but they could still see her footprints. She ducked off into the pasture, moving off-road toward Croc
etta.

Running thirty feet or so parallel to the road, she panted, muttering in frustration when she realized how long it would take her to reach the citadel on foot. She pressed on, stopping every few minutes to catch her breath. Her feet and hands were nearly frozen by the time she finally reached the main gate at the cit
adel.

Just as the sun was rising above the horizon, one of the palace guards on the rampart spotted her stumbling across the court
yard.

Taking the stairs down two at a time, he reached her just as she collapsed from exhaustion outside the door of the Knight’s
Hall.

CHAPTER 15

REVELATION

She almost hated to wake him—he looked so peaceful as he slept. The blankets that had covered his broad shoulders for most of the night had since receded, leaving his muscular torso exposed. One arm was raised above his head, resting on the pillow. His tousled dark hair fell over his eyes, his jaw showing its five o’clock shadow. If the situation had not been so urgent, she could have stared at his male beauty for h
ours.

“Darian—wake up,” she whispered finally, gently shaking his shoulder. “Please wak
e up.”

“Marisa?” He raised an eyelid slowly, rubbing the other one with the heel of his hand. “What are you doing
here?”

“Savino’s men attacked us in the middle of the night. They took Mark, my uncle, and
Eman!”

“What?” He sat upright in bed, squinting at her from head to toe. “You are still in your nightgown. Did you come all this way on
foot?”

“Yes. I’ve been so sc
ared.”

“What happened?” he dema
nded.

“Mark and my uncle escaped through the tunnel under the house, but they were soon captured. I was able to get away, but they followed my tracks to Eman’s house. They took him away
too.”

He threw off the covers and jumped out of bed. “There is not a moment to waste! We must inform the Crimson C
ourt.”

“It’s me they’re after—they kept asking if anyone had found ‘her.’ I’m the one that Savino w
ants.”

“Do not worry, you are safe now.” He opened the cabinet, taking out a fresh linen shirt and pulling it over his
head.

“But what about the others? Where are they taking
them?”

He stopped, bothered. “How did Savino know you were staying at Castle Beauriél? No one outside the palace knew you were t
here.”

“I don’t know. Someone must have told
him.”

Darian froze. “There is a traitor in the ca
stle.”

“Who?”

He ran a nervous hand through his hair. “I do not know. But we must find
out.”

“Three times tonight the men looked straight at me, but they didn’t see me. I even yelled at one of them, but it was as if he couldn’t hea
r me.”

“But you are not hurt?” he asked, fastening his t
unic.

“I’m fine. Did you hear what I just
said?”

“About
what?”

She sighed, exasperated. “I said that just before they came to arrest Eman, he told me that they couldn’t see me because I was wearing his amulet.” She held it up for him to see. “It saved my
life.”

He secured a belt around his waist, thinking. “If that is true, it might help us in flushing out the tra
itor.”

“How?”

“I have an idea. You go and get dressed while I summon the members of the Crimson Court. We must hurry. If your uncle and brother are on their way to Abbadon, they are already in serious da
nger.”

Marisa stood in the small cloakroom of the Crimson antechamber, nervously biting her nails. Darian had asked her to wait while everyone else was being summoned to the adjacent hal
lway.

Finally, he stepped in and closed the red velvet curtain separating the cloakroom from the chamber. “Are you r
eady?”

“Ready for what? Are you going to tell me what we’re d
oing?”

“I have thought of a way to discover whom we can t
rust.”

“How?”

“No one at the castle has been informed of the attack on Beauriél except for Tino and Bruno. All the others think that they have been summoned here to swear an oath of allegiance ahead of your corona
tion.”

“Now? At this early hour? Isn’t that a little—
unu
sual
?”

He shook his head. “No. But that is not the real reason they have been summ
oned.”

“I still don’t unders
tand.”

“You shall remain hidden here while I call up each person individually. Once they are seated, you shall enter the chamber quietly, but say nothing. If they see you and acknowledge your presence, then we shall know they are loyal both to Garon and to us. If one of them cannot see
you—”

“We’ll have our traitor,” she said, finishing his sent
ence.

“Are you r
eady?”

“I g
uess.”

He lifted her chin to meet his gaze. “I do not like this any more than you do, but it is necessary.” He kissed her softly on the cheek. “Shall we b
egin?”

She nodded, stepping behind the velvet cur
tain.

Darian waited until she had concealed herself before opening the door of the antechamber. “Lord Eliseo, please e
nter.”

The short, portly man stood up and entered the room. He sat down at the table, watching Darian expectantly. As Marisa emerged from the closet and crept silently toward his chair, Eliseo stood up and b
owed.

“Kneel, pl
ease.”

“Your Highness.” He dropped down on one knee, kissing her hand. “Your Royal Highness, this day I pledge to you my eternal allegiance upon penalty of d
eath.”

“Thank you, Lord Eliseo. It is my honor to command
you.”

The short man grinned proudly as he exited the chamber. Marisa smiled to herself and returned to the cl
oset.

“Baron Rufino, please e
nter.”

The middle-aged, balding man bounced into the room and sat down, nervously tapping his fingers on his t
high.

Slowly and silently she emerged from behind the curtain, moving directly in front of
him.

“Your Royal Highness,” Rufino squeaked, jumping out of his chair and kneeling down before her, taking her hand to kiss it. He stopped, his lips paused midair as if he had suddenly forgotten what he was supposed to say. “I—uh, pledge to you—my eternal allegiance—upon penalty of d
eath.”

“Thank you, Baron Rufino. It is my honor to command
you.”

He stood to leave, exhaling a sigh of relief as he bounced out the door. Darian followed him, calling up the next
one.

Each of the other men was ushered in one at a time, and each time, they were all able to see her. She was starting to wonder if the plan would even
work.

“How many are still left?” she whisp
ered.

He peered through the slit in the door. “Only Lord Drago and the members of the household s
taff.”

“You mean we’re gonna have to do all them as
well?”

“We must be certain they can be tru
sted.”

She let out a heavy sigh and walked back into the cl
oset.

“Lord Drago, please e
nter.”

She heard Darian asking him to be seated and waited, emerging a few seconds later. She moved toward him slowly, stopping directly in front of him. When there was no reaction from him, she leaned down close, speaking lo
udly.

“Lord Drago, can you hea
r me?”

The man didn’t respond but gazed lazily around the room, studying the paintings on the walls. He crossed one leg over the other and smoothed his mustache with his fi
nger.

“Sir, I ask you again, can you hear me?” She glanced at Darian. He was watching Drago with arms crossed, waiting for any reaction. His eyes met hers, and he shook his head s
adly.

She returned to the cloakroom and removed the amulet from her neck, emerging once again without it. Lord Drago rose from his chair to kiss her extended
hand.

“I pledge to you my eternal allegiance upon penalty of d
eath.”

“Thank you, Lord D
rago.”

He smiled and nodded, exiting into the main corr
idor.

“Lord Drago, just a moment, please. Would you be so kind as to wait
here?”

The portly nobleman hesitated, nodding. “Certainly.” He plunked down in a plush chair next to the household s
taff.

Darian shut the door and leaned against it. “Well, it would appear that we have found our tra
itor.”

“I thought the Paladins were supposed to be incorrupt
ible.”

“As d
id I.”

“Wasn’t he the one who had advised us to split up into different locat
ions?”

“Yes.” Darian balled his hand into a fist. “Savino knew that he could get to you at Beauriél, away from my protec
tion.”

“So you think Drago is loyal to Sa
vino?”

He smiled at her naiveté. “Yes, my
love.”

“Do you think there are ot
hers?”

“Do you mean in addition to the ones that have already defected to Abbadon? Perhaps. But they too shall be reve
aled.”

“What are you going to do with him?” she asked, motioning to the corr
idor.

“He shall be arrested right away. We cannot have him running off to warn Sa
vino.”

“And the ot
hers?”

“We must be certain we can trust
them.”

“Send them in,” she answered, her heart heavy as she returned to the cloak
room.

After the remaining staff members had each pledged their allegiance, Darian and Marisa were relieved that no other traitors had been found. Then they called an emergency family cou
ncil.

When Arrie, Tino, Bruno, Domenico, Cozimo, Cinzia, Adalina, Helena and Lady Matilda had all assembled in the Crimson antechamber, Marisa explained what had happ
ened.

Cinzia became fraught with worry once she heard her husband had been captured, but Darian rushed to reassure her. “I am certain that Alessio and the others are still alive,” he said. “Savino is only using them to lure us to him. It is us he wants, not
them.”

“What are you planning to do?” Helena a
sked.

“Savino has declared war on Crocetta. We have no choice but to march on Abbadon and bring them
home.”

“Son, are you certain that is the wisest op
tion?”

“If Savino cannot capture us, he may eventually decide to kill Alessio and Prince Marcus. We cannot just sit here and wait for that to happen—we must strike him first and hit
hard.”

“What about Savino’s warriors down in the valley?” Marisa asked. “What do you plan to do about
them?”

“They have moved out of the area; probably headed back to Abb
adon.”

“What news from our spies?” Adalina a
sked.

“We have not heard from them in days,” Tino answered. “I can only pray that they have not been discovered and ki
lled.”

“Your Highnesses, we should begin our plan of attack on Abbadon now!” Bruno slammed a balled fist onto the t
able.

“How long will it take for us to move out?” Darian a
sked.

“If we get started right away, we could be ready to leave at su
nset.”

Marisa stared in disbelief. “What? You’re leaving
t
oday?”

“That still gives them a full day’s lead,” Arrie remarked gr
imly.

“And each moment we stand here discussing it is another moment wasted,” Darian said. “Who is coming and who is sta
ying?”

“If I was twenty years younger, I would be the first to volunteer,” Cozimo offered. “But now, I might have a problem keeping up with you young pe
ople.”

Darian gave him a patient smile. “And we cannot afford to lose you, Lord Arroyo. You are much too valuable
here.”