The Carnelian Tyranny: Savino’s Revenge (19 page)

Now as his eyes wandered aimlessly across the evergreen branches weighed down with snow, he realized how much Marisa was becoming just like her mother. Although her hazel eyes and chestnut hair were definitely traits that had been inherited from her father’s side of the family, the strength and beauty of her tall, slender frame and the fiery gleam of independence in her eyes were clear reflections of the former queen. Sometimes he would catch a glimpse of her standing in the Knight’s Hall and it was as if he were seeing a ghost from a forgotten era. In the few short months since she had returned to Carnelia, he had been amazed by how she had transformed from an insecure, moody teenager into a confident young woman of patience and fortitude. The headstrong girl who had been dead to him for so many years was alive again and, in the meantime, had matured into the most enchanting woman he had ever met. She could not have been mistaken for anyone else than Queen Elyse Fiore’s daug
hter.

His memories of the former queen were just as vivid now as when he had been an eight-year-old boy, and he never forgot his visits to Uncle Alano and Aunt Elyse. She was always presenting him with small gifts and was never too busy to admire the latest addition to his butterfly collection. And although he had been too young back then to understand the nature of her kindness, she had left him with a lasting impression of what a good monarch should be—thoughtful, kind and respectful of everyone no matter their station in life. In hindsight, he concluded that the queen’s loving attention toward him had been based upon the selfless desire for her future son-in-law to be the recipient of a healthy diet of love and respect. Not that he did not receive it from his own parents, but Queen Elyse saw it as an extra measure to help mold her daughter’s future husband and thereby increase the chances of happiness in their marriage. It was just one more thing that had made Marisa’s mother not only a special queen, but an incredible woman as
well.

He straightened up in the saddle, suddenly remembering where he was and what they were doing. One of the typical by-products of marching into battle was the overabundance of time it provided for a man to ponder every facet of his
life.

As dawn broke over the horizon, the company reached the high stone wall surrounding the village of Andrésis and entered through the main gate. The shops were still closed at the early hour, but the few merchants already hustling about stopped to watch the impressive assortment of knights, men and horses parading through town on their way to Abb
adon.

The black-bricked houses with their green-glazed roofs were always a welcoming and friendly sight, and as they passed the Blue Boar Inn, Darian smiled to himself as he remembered the last time he had been there with Marisa and A
rrie.

She had been so disoriented by her trip through the vortex that she had run into the street and splashed her face with water from the trough, trying to convince herself that it was all a dream. He smiled, remembering how hard he had tried to conceal his amusement at her drowned-mouse appearance and confusion. Then later that night, he had sat quietly listening to Arrie and Marisa’s dinner conversation, fascinated by her endearing accent and fiery wit. It seemed so long ago now, and he could scarcely believe that it had been nearly three months since they had first
met.

When the last man at the rear of the formation exited the village’s main street with its shops, stables and houses, the company entered the open, rolling countryside once again. They traveled a few more miles northeast of the village before Darian finally ordered the men to stop and rest for a w
hile.

They set up temporary campsites with fire pits where they could prepare warm meals and fight off the unrelenting cold. The men settled in eagerly, cooking breakfast and warming themselves by the fire as they chatted, keeping the subject of battle a safe distance away. When a collective wave of exhaustion seemed to settle over the camp, nearly every single man laid down on his mat to sleep. Since most had been called into action on such short notice, they had not been given ample time to prepare both physically and mentally for the jou
rney.

“Your Highness, how long do you wish to remain here?” Lord Ennio asked, interrupting Darian’s thou
ghts.

“Let us give the men ample time to rest.” He shook out his mat and laid it on the ground. “We shall move out again at ten o’clock. That gives us just a little over four h
ours.”

“Very good, Your Highness,” Lord Ennio answered, nodding before heading over to a nearby camp
fire.

Darian stretched out, his eyelids drooping from exhaustion. Just before he drifted off to sleep, he prayed for Marisa’s safety one more
time.

Marisa and Adalina stopped in their tracks as the figure approached them. “Your Highnesses, hurry! Come wit
h me!”

Marisa squinted in the darkness at the man’s silhouette but she couldn’t make out his face. “Who is that?” she whispered, exchanging puzzled glances with Ada
lina.

“It’s me! Celino! Hurry before someone spots
you!”

“Celino?” she asked weakly. A wave of relief washed over
her.

“Come quickly,” he whispered, motioning for them to fo
llow.

They ducked off the nearly deserted main road into an alley behind a long row of houses. Marisa began to speak, but Celino quickly shushed
her.

“Shhh, the stones here have ears. Let’s get you both to safety and then we’ll
talk.”

Marisa and Adalina followed him down the narrow cobblestone alley where he stopped to help them climb over a six-foot wooden fence. Marisa immediately recognized Celino’s postage-stamp courtyard at the rear of his modest h
ouse.

He opened the back door and led them down the corridor, each of the rooms appearing just as messy and chaotic as she rememb
ered.

They entered the cozy library where he tossed some books off a chair. “Make yourselves comfortable. You’ll be safe
here.”

“Shouldn’t we find a place to hide?” Marisa a
sked.

He shook his head. “No need. When they finally do get around to searching the city, I’ve got the perfect place to
hide.”

“I can’t thank you enough,” she said, removing the dagger that had been strapped to her thigh and gently placed it on the side table. “You’ve saved our lives. We could have been ki
lled.”

He waved a hand to dismiss it. “A man does what he
can.”

“Yes, thank you, Celino,” Adalina said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “We are very grat
eful!”

His face turned beet red. “Aw shucks, you two young women are worth saving any day.” He shooed her away. “I finally upped and fired my housekeeper, Stella, so I’ll make us some tea.” He hurried into the kitchen across the hallway and set a pot of water on the
fire.

Waiting for it to boil, he returned to the library where Marisa surveyed the tall bookshelves crammed with what seemed to be thousands of books. “I like to read,” he said, grinning apologetic
ally.

“I always love browsing your collection,” Adalina said, running a dainty finger across the leather spines. “Do you have a suggestion fo
r me?”

“Of course I do.” Celino’s eyes twinkled as he grabbed his reading glasses from the table and slipped them on. He walked over to the ladder and climbed up it halfway, leaning out to pull a blue book off the shelf. “
Little Women
. It’s perfect for you, my dear.” He climbed back down and handed it to Adalina, smiling at
her.

Marisa stared at them. “Hello? We’re being hunted by a homicidal maniac and you’re giving her book suggest
ions?”

He shook his head. “Oh, yes, sorry. I get easily sidetra
cked.”

“Sorry,” Adalina whisp
ered.

“How did you know we were in tro
uble?”

He removed his glasses, folding them neatly. “Well, I dreamt that I was standing in the middle of the road and there were hundreds of horses galloping past me. All of a sudden I woke up, but the sound of horses’ hooves kept getting lo
uder.

“As you can see,” he said, pointing to the window, “my house overlooks the main road that leads up to the citadel. When I looked outside, I saw the army of warriors and weapons advancing toward the castle. You don’t exactly have to be a rocket scientist—what I am, technically speaking—to guess what a group that size entering the city this time of the morning could mean. Hang on just a mi
nute.”

He jumped up and ran to the kitchen to check on the water. When he saw that it wasn’t boiling yet, he returned and conti
nued.

“I waited until all the warriors had passed by before I snuck outside and hurried up to the gate. When I spotted the dead sentries at the entrance, I knew it wasn’t good. Then I saw the two of you running into the tunnel. That was a dangerous thing you did, but very bold. I like women with moxie,” he said, grin
ning.

“Celino, later that night after the party, Savino’s men led a surprise attack on Castle Beauriél,” Marisa explained. “They killed most of the guards and kidnapped Mark, my uncle and Eman. I was the only one who managed to get
away.”

“Do you know where they’ve taken them?” he a
sked.

“We first thought that they were being taken to Abbadon. Darian left yesterday with the Crimson Knights and a thousand men to go bring them back, but we just saw Mark, my uncle and Eman being offloaded here, at the cit
adel.”

“So who’s defending the ca
stle?”

“That’s just it—no one. Savino’s warriors slaughtered most of the guards at the citadel, but Darian’s mother, Aunt Cinzia, Arrie and some of the others are still in
side.”

“Well, that wasn’t very smart of him now, wa
s it?”

“Smart of
who?”

“Your bel
oved.”

She shrugged. “Darian has been known to act rashly sometimes. He doesn’t always think things thr
ough.”

“Let’s have a cup of tea first,” Celino said. “That always helps me to think better when I want to sort things
out.”

As he returned to the kitchen to prepare the tea, Marisa noticed a glint of worry in Adalina’s eyes. She wondered how much she had ever been out in the real w
orld.

“Your Highnesses! Come qui
ckly!”

They hurried into the front room where Celino was hiding behind the drapes and peering into the st
reet.

“Look outside, but mind you—stay out of s
ight!”

Peeking through the gap in the drape, Marisa spotted the royal carriage as it rolled up the hill toward them. When she saw Savino’s stony expression staring through the window as he passed the house, she gasped and dropped out of sight. She peeked out a few seconds later, watching the carriage disappear under the rampart tunnel. “Savino’s
here?”

“I told you he was probably in the area,” Adalina said, her voice fraught with worry. “Whatever shall w
e do?”

“With the Crocine guard force wiped out and Prince Darian gone to Abbadon with the rest, we’re gonna have to find help somewhere else,” Celino
said.

“But who?” Marisa asked. “All the Crimson Knights have gone with Da
rian.”

“Why don’t we go find him?” Adalina suggested. “We could try to catch up with him and let him know what has happ
ened.”

“No,” Celino said. “It’s a
trap.”

CHAPTER 19

AMBROGIA

“A trap?” Marisa echoed. “What do you
mean?”

“Classic military strategy,” he answered. “Savino is using Mark and the others to lure Darian to Abbadon, but it’s all just a diversion. While your beloved and the bulk of the Crimson Knights are on their way to attack a deserted castle, Savino moves in and conquers an empty ca
stle.”

“But he knows Darian will turn right around and come back. What’s the p
oint?”

“Savino must be planning something
else.”

“Like
what?”

Celino’s face was somber as he tried to think of a reason. Finally he looked at her and shrugged. “I don’t
know.”

“So what’s our next move?” Marisa asked. “Should we try to go find Darian like Adalina sugge
sted?”

“No, too risky. If my hunch is correct and Savino plans to crown himself king, then neither of you is safe here in the city. We’ve got to get you both
out.”

“But I can’t leave now,” she said, shaking her head. “He’s holding my family hostage up there. I can’t just sneak off and let someone else clean up this mess. Now let’s put our heads together and come up with a
plan.”

“With all due respect, Your Highness, you need to look at this in a practical sense. While I admire your dedication to your family, the three of us against hundreds of Savino’s warriors is suicide. If you were to march into that castle right now, you’d be captured and killed faster than you can say abracad
abra.”

“Not necessarily,” she said. “I could prance on in there wearing nothing but my underwear and no one would even notice.” She smiled mischievously. “Well, maybe a few people would no
tice.”

“What are you talking about?” Adalina a
sked.

“Remember this?” She lifted the glowing jewel from under her bodice, dangling it high for them to see. “This little stone helped me escape from Savino’s warriors at Castle Beauriél. It’s got some sort of divine power that acts like a cloaking device. I bet I could walk right into the castle, and nobody would even no
tice.”

“How does it
work?”

“I’m not really sure, but Eman told me that night at the party that ‘Those with an impure heart shall be blinded by your presence.’ Three different warriors looked right at me last night, and none of them could se
e me.”

“But are you certain it will work with Sa
vino?”

“Are you kidding? He’s got the most impure heart of anyone I
know.”

“Wait a minute,” Celino said, snapping his fingers. “That’s right. At your party Eman mentioned something about the amulet being a shard of the Ambrogia stone. I’ve got a book about it here somewhere.” He climbed a stepladder to the highest s
helf.

Tracing his finger across a series of ancient books on the history of Carnelia, his finger stopped on the one he was looking for. He pulled it out and blew off a layer of dust as he climbed down the la
dder.

Opening the book on the table, he flipped impatiently to find the exact passage he was looking for. When he found it, he read it to them out
loud:

The Ambrogia Stone was the most sacred gem in the temple through which Garon communicated to the priests in the early days of the city. The intense purple color of the stone signified its divine nature and was utilized by the priests to discern the will of Garon to his people. No other stone or gem like it has ever been found in Carnelia, further reinforcing the notion that its origins are divine in na
ture.

Although no firsthand drawings or depictions of the original stone are known to have survived, traditional belief holds that an ancient prophecy was engraved on the base s
tone:

‘When the temperate flower has split the indomitable rock with a single blow, the Defender will appear in the hearts of the true belie
vers
.’

According to legend, the ancient stone cracked and splintered when Garon unleashed his anger on the priests and the people of Ambrogia for their rebellion. The fate of the precious shards of the stone remains a mystery, although some have suggested that some of its pieces still remain in existence. They are believed to carry mystical, divine powers and remain highly sought after even to this
day.

Celino removed his glasses. “Well, that would explain how you were able to get away without Savino’s men seeing you. In fact, a few geologist friends of mine would probably give their right arm to get their hands on just a tiny splinter of that s
tone.”

Marisa gazed down at her ring. “My uncle told me that the Ambrogia stone doesn’t even exist on Earth. This stone was just an average diamond when my dad first gave it to me. But now it’s purple-colored, and its light is pulsing faster than it was a few weeks
ago.”

He crossed his arms, thinking. “You know, it is quite possible that the molecular structure of crystals, gems and other precious metals might shift if they were to pass from one dimension to ano
ther.”

“What do you
mean?”

“Simply that metals and gems that appear one way here might appear differently in another dimension, namely E
arth.”

Marisa laughed. “What are you saying? That lead from Earth transforms into gold in Carn
elia?”

“Not necessarily…” he trailed off. “Anyway, it’s just a theory. But what an interesting con
cept.”

“Why?”

“Well, what if all the diamonds we’ve ever seen in the jewelry shop windows back home are not actually diamonds, but misplaced Ambrogia st
ones?”

“Then the Carnelian people would be clamoring in droves to get to E
arth.”

He dismissed it with a wave. “Anyway, this would make for a nice rainy day discussion, but right now we need to focus on what we’re going do
next.”

“Right,” she said. “We need to know what Savino is u
p to.”

“How do we do that?” Adalina a
sked.

“I can sneak back into the castle and see what I can learn,” Marisa said. “If this thing really works, I should be able to get in and back out again undete
cted.”

“Well, I suppose it’s your call, Princess,” Celino answered. “But then Adalina stays with me.” He set the book down on the table, motioning to them. “Come with me. I want to show you two something.” He walked down to the kitchen and stopped in front of a small pantry. With great flourish, he shoved the curtains aside, motioning to the cupboard filled with bread and ch
eese.

“T
a—da!”

Marisa and Adalina stared at the food on the shelf, exchanging puzzled glances. “Uh, you have a neatly-stocked kitchen,” Marisa said d
ryly.

“To the person who doesn’t know better,
yes!”

He lit a candle and felt for a small latch underneath the lowest plank and slid it aside. The wall of shelves opened inwards, revealing a hidden stairway. “Enter, la
dies.”

The three of them descended the stairs into a cool, dark cellar. The large, vaulted chamber reminded Marisa of a bomb shelter, complete with a sitting area, three large beds and a sink with cupbo
ards.

“This used to be an old wine cellar, but with the amount of wine I drink, I thought I’d make better use of this space,” he said, knocking a cobweb down with his hand. “Nobody knows about it, not even my ex-housekeeper. If anyone came to search the house, chances are they wouldn’t find it. The only way in or out is that door from the kit
chen.”

“This is perfect!” Marisa exclaimed. “Adalina will be safe here until we can get her
out.”

“That’s the whole
idea.”

Her eyes traced the wall behind the sitting area. “What’s behind that
door?”

Celino grinned at her. “That, my dears, is my secret labora
tory.”

“Re
ally?”

“Really. But I’ll have to show that to you another time. Right now we’ve got work to do.” He led them back up the stairs and shut the pantry
door.

Marisa shook her head, amazed at how well the secret passageway had been concealed. Returning to the library, she sat down and rested her head on her hand in quiet thought. “Adalina, is there anything else I should know before I go
back?”

“I do not know what more to tell you about the castle. You seem to know it almost as well as
I do.”

“Is there anyone who will help us fight Sa
vino?”

Adalina thought for a moment. “We could ask King Bertoldo Macario of Terracina to help us. He has an armada of ships and I am certain that he would come to our aid. He is the cousin of your father, you
know.”

“How can we contact
him?”

“Ooh, Terracina is several days across the sea. We would need to send a royal envoy by
ship.”

Marisa jumped to her feet. “Okay, let’s d
o it.”

“Marisa wait,” Adalina said, grabbing her arm. “King Bertoldo has probably set sail for Crocetta. He was, after all, invited to your coronation. What do we do if he has already
left?”

She groaned. “Is there anyone else who can command the fleet in his abs
ence?”

Adalina shrugged. “There must be. Most of the kingdoms require a ruler to appoint a person to act in their stead in times of war. But we will need the Carnelian seal. If Celino can get me down to the harbor and onto a ship, I shall go there my
self.”

“Why do we need the
seal?”

“It serves as proof that the request has come from the highest-ranking royal. Only that person who is in possession of the seal is authorized to declare war, and, technically, that is you. I would simply be the e
nvoy.”

“Where is the seal
now?”

“It is in the Carnelian signet ring. It was last worn by Count Gregario, but I have not seen it since he
died.”

Celino and Marisa looked at each other. “Savino has it,” they both said in un
ison.

“And we know where to find him, don’t we?” Celino a
dded.

“But he probably never takes it
off.”

“Oh, great,” Marisa said, throwing her hands in the air. “This just became Mission Impossible. I might be invisible, but how can I get it off his finger without him kno
wing?”

Celino laid a hand on her shoulder. “Just get in there and assess the situation. If you aren’t back by first light, I’ll take Adalina down to the harbor and get her on the first ship out of here—ring or no
ring.”

“I’ll do what I can,” she answered, sweeping her cape around her shoulders and fastening the c
lasp.

“That only gives you twenty-four hours to snag the signet ring,” said Celino. “I just hope King Bertoldo’s people will hel
p us.”

“Oh, they will,” Adalina assured them. “Their family is our best
ally.”

“How long will it take to get to Terra
cina?”

Celino scratched his head. “Let’s see, it’s a week’s journey by sea, and another week for the trip back. It would be at least two weeks before we’d be back with Bertoldo’s
army.”

She looked at him, doubtful. “I guess we don’t have much choice. Keep her safe. I’ll be back as soon as I
can.”

“Do be careful,” Adalina u
rged.

“I
will.”

Pulling her hood over her head, Marisa hurried up the street, praying silently that no one could see her. She found a spot behind a tree just a few paces from the castle gate and stayed behind it, surveying the situation at the cit
adel.

Groaning when she saw two warriors on either side of the entrance and eight stationed at various positions along the rampart wall, she glanced behind
her.

There was no one in the street but a bespectacled old man rolling some racks of leather goods out in front of his shop. He didn’t seem to notice her. She turned back toward the castle, praying a quick prayer before moving toward the entr
ance.

Shield me from the eyes guarding the castle. Guide my footsteps and protect me from
harm.

Tiptoeing as quietly as possible, she stepped out from behind the tree and stood directly in front of the gate. Her heart raced as she waited for the warriors to notice her, but the brawny guards posted at the entrance didn’t move a muscle. Moving toward the rampart tunnel, she wiped her clammy palms off on her cloak and passed under the archway, hearing a comforting voice in her
head.

My child, I shall always be with you. Do not be af
raid.

She entered the darkened tunnel. The deeper she went, the more her confidence grew. Emerging on the other side, she fought the instinct to duck and
hide.

As giant warriors strode to and fro in large formations from one area of the citadel to another, she ran, stopped and sidestepped around them, dodging the soldiers in a strange sort of choreography. She smiled to herself, watching the folds of her dress flowing out behind her knowing that no one else could see
them.

She was just nearing the Knight’s Hall when, all of a sudden, angry shouts erupted from it. The steady stream of warriors going in and out of the hall daunted her temporarily, but her curiosity got the better of her and she hurried up to the main
door.

Flattening herself against the wall, she waited until the next warrior opened the door and slipped in unnoticed behind him. There was a bustle of activity in the castle as she followed him through the vestibule and into the Knight’s
Hall.