The Carnelian Tyranny: Savino’s Revenge (24 page)

The trio had only been on the ship for a couple of days and already Mark was bored. Although it was cloudy and the air was crisp, they’d gotten lucky with the weather. He was glad that it had stayed dry, making it possible to pass the time up on deck. Celino had mentioned something about having the wind at their backs, which meant that they were sailing faster than normal. Good, maybe they’d reach land so
oner.

“Marcus, shall I teach you how to play cards?” Adalina asked, interrupting his thou
ghts.

Startled, he straightened up, feeling the warmth rise to his cheeks. He hated the way his face flushed whenever there was a cute girl around. And Adalina Fiore sure was pretty. The guys in his class back home would have fallen over themselves just to talk to her. He kept having to remind himself that she was his cousin. But, then again, she was a
distant
co
usin.

She clasped her hands in front of her, smiling expectantly. There was a prolonged, awkward silence before he remembered that she had just asked him a ques
tion.

“Oh, yeah, sure, Your Highness. Sounds like
fun.”

“Dear Marcus, I have told you before that you do not need to address me so formally,” she said, lightly touching his arm. “You and I are the same rank, remember? Please call me Ada
lina.”

“Uh, that’s right, Adalina. I guess you did.” He chuckled. “I guess I just can’t get used to this royalty stuff. I’ve always been plain old Mark to my fri
ends.”

“In
deed.”

He smiled nervously, watching her watching him. There was another awkward pause as he tried to think of something to
say.

“So, do you want to
play?”

“Play
what?”

She giggled. “C
ards.”

He gave her a sheepish grin. “Oh, yeah, right
. Uh—”

“We would have to go down into the ship, though,” she said, interrupting. “If we played up here, the cards would all blow
away.”

“Um, do you mind if we stay up here on deck for a while since it’s not raining?” He avoided her eyes, kicking the toe of his boot against the railing. “Maybe you can teach me to play cards some other
time.”

“Certainly. Whatever you wish,” Adalina answered, her dark eyes twinkling in amusement. “I only offered since you seemed b
ored.”

“You make everything more interesting.” He gazed at her as he said it, appreciating the delicate lines of her face when he noticed the corners of her lips curling upward into an amused smile. Only then did he realize that he had actually said what he was thinking out
loud.

She must think I’m a total i
diot!

“What a perfectly nice thing to
say.”

Rolling his eyes at the stupidity of his words, Mark stared out across the waves, trying to think of something witty to make her laugh. When nothing came to mind, he leaned against the railing, tapping his foot nervously. He was trying to glance at her sideways without her noticing when Celino’s head popped up between
them.

“So, are you two kiddies having fun
yet?”

Mark’s smile faded. “It’s epic.” The moment was
gone.

“Do you know that this is the farthest I can ever remember being away from home?” she rema
rked.

“Have you never been to Terra
cina?”

“Not that I can remember. I was there a few times as a
baby.”

“Well, this is the farthest I’ve been away from home too,” Mark said, staring out at the water. “And I’m starting to mis
s it.”

“Tell me about your world, Marcus,” she said wistfully. “From everything I have learned from Celino, it sounds like a wonderful place. I would love to visit some
time.”

Feeling Celino’s eyes boring into the back of his head, Mark turned slowly, motioning that he wanted some alone time with her. Celino grinned, giving him the thumbs-up sign before moving down just far enough to stay within ear
shot.

“Earth is pretty cool, but your world is neat too. It’s hard to explain, though, what the differences are. I mean, obviously we speak different languages and the clothes here are sorta weird, but the people aren’t really that different from where I’m
from.”

“When a man is interested, how does he let a woman
know?”

He did a double-take. “Uh, well, if a guy is interested in a girl, he asks her on a date.” He sure didn’t see that co
ming.

“What is a ‘
date’?”

Distracted by the way her luscious lips moved as she spoke, he didn’t pay attention to what she was asking. “Sorry, what was the ques
tion?”

She smiled, displaying a row of perfect teeth. “I asked you, what is a ‘
date’?”

He hesitated. “Well, it can be lots of different stuff. Maybe he takes her out to dinner, or to see a movie, or they go dancing at a
club.”

“What is a moo-
veee?”

“A movie is—oh, gosh…” He exhaled a puff of air, considering her question. How could one describe a movie to someone on Carnelia? “It’s a story played out by actors dressed in costumes, and there is music, and they act it out. People go and watch it on a big sc
reen.”

He studied her face, unsure of whether or not she unders
tood.

“We have plays in Crocetta every so often. Is it like t
hose?”

“Um, yeah, something like that,” he said, bobbing his head from side to side. “Except that people aren’t acting it out live. It’s filmed on a movie set with music and special effects added later to give it added d
rama.”

“It sounds wonde
rful.”

“I can be. But it’s a real bummer when you’ve blown a whole wad of cash on a rotten m
ovie.”

“Will you take me to a movie someday? I would like to see one with
you.”

“I’d love to take you to a movie,” Mark confessed, admiring her beautiful smile. “And out to dinner and dan
cing.”

“What a pity we cannot dance now,” she said wistfully. “I should have liked very much to dance on my birt
hday.”

He looked at her, stunned. “Today’s your birt
hday?”

She nodded slowly, staring out at the waves. “My brother had promised to throw me a ball to celebrate, but with all that has happened lately, it was just sort of forgo
tten.”

“Gosh, Adalina. Happy Birt
hday.”

She smiled weakly. “Thank
you.”

So that’s why she seems a bit distant. Maybe it isn’
t me.

He watched the nose of the ship rise and fall as it met resistance from the waves, feeling sorry for her. Although he hadn’t known it was her birthday, he did know how much she was looking forward to that ball. He took a step back, bowing awkwardly to
her.

“Adalina, would you like to d
ance?”

She turned from the handrail and glanced at him, a smile creeping across her lips. “Here?
Now?”

Mark no
dded.

“But there is no music,” she
said.

“Pretend there is an orchestra at the bow. M
ay I?”

Not waiting for her answer, he offered her the crook of his arm and led her to the middle of the deck. Then he slipped his hand around her waist, taking her hand in the other. The two of them began to sway slowly as a few of the crew members stopped to w
atch.

“I do not know this dance,” she said softly. “But it is
nice.”

“Happy Sweet Sixteen, Adalina,” he whispered in her
ear.

“Thank
you.”

Detecting the faintest glimmer of admiration in her eyes, he smiled and drew her closer, resting his cheek on the top of her
head.

Celino leaned over the railing and stared out at the water, trying to hide the silly grin on his
face.

Those were the
days
.

By the time he had reached the outskirts of Abbadon, Darian was drained of all his energy. The pain from his wound had been plaguing him for several hours and he desperately needed to
rest.

The people milling about on the city streets gawked at the tall stranger in the Crimson Star uniform, probably wondering what a Paladin Knight was doing so far away from Crocetta and all by himself. He approached the main entrance of Abbadon Castle, peering into the courtyard from atop his h
orse.

Slowly dismounting, he limped over to the gate and craned to see into the guard house, but there was no sign of anyone. He banged the hilt of his sword against the gate, calling out to the young man who was coming towards him. The lone soldier appeared somewhat unsure of himself as he approached the
gate.

A skinny lad of no more than eighteen, he wore a uniform three sizes too big which clanked loudly with each step he took. By the way he wielded his sword, Darian could tell that he wasn’t an experienced warrior. “Soldier, let m
e in.”

“Who are ye?” the young man asked, pointing a dagger at him through the bars of the portcullis. “State yer per
puss.”

“I am Prince Darian Fiore of Crocetta and I have come to negotiate with Count da Rocha for the prisoners. Would you please be so kind as to take me to
him?”

The soldier froze for a few seconds before dropping into a low bow. “Fergive me, Yer Highness,” he began. “But there be no one ’ere. There be no prisners ’ere, ei
ther.”

Darian stopped. “What do you mean? Where is Count da Rocha? Where are his warr
iors?”

“He be gone to Crocetta with ’is men for ’is corona
tion.”

“His
corona
tion
?”

The man nodded. “There be only me and one other ’ere keepin’ the castle until they ree-
turn.”

“I see,” he answered, digesting that sl
owly.

Realizing that Savino had invaded Crocetta with Marisa and all the others still there, he suddenly felt sick to his stomach. He prayed that they were all still alive. “Soldier, what is your
name?”

“Terzo,
Sire.”

“Terzo, I am in desperate need of shelter. Please open the gate so that I may com
e in.”

“My orders be not to let anyon
e in—”

“I have no wish to harm you,” he said, pleading gently. “I only ask for simple charity and compassion so that I may tend to my wound and then I shall leave you in peace. Please open the
gate.”

Terzo’s eyes dropped down to his wounded leg, resting there for a moment before finally shrugging to himself. He stepped over to the guard house and used all his strength to turn the giant wheel. The iron portcullis screeched in protest, clanging loudly as it slowly disappeared into the gap between the stones high above
them.

“Thank you, Terzo,” Darian said, limping as he led Obsidian to the stables. “I shall never forget
this.”

“Oh, Yer Highness?” Terzo called, stopping him. “Ere be only one other member of the ’ousehold staff still left in the castle. Tell ’im who ye be and ’e shall attend t
o ye.”

Nodding in thanks, Darian quickly secured Obsidian in one of the stalls and removed his sword from his saddle, strapping it to his side. Gently coaxing the horse to drink from the trough, he stroked his soft mane and gazed around the high stone walls, remembering the last time he had been there with Marisa and Arrie. He had left with a bitter, angry feeling in his gut after Savino had proposed marriage to Ma
risa.

Knowing that she was in grave danger now, his every step took on a sense of urgency. Once his leg had been attended to, he would return to Crocetta as soon as possible. Even if he turned right around and started toward home that same afternoon, it would still take him a couple of days to reach the
city.

His body felt as if all its strength had been sucked out and, to his dismay, he smelled wretched. A hot bath was exactly what he needed. With a labored gait, he limped up to the fortress. The massive main door had been left unlocked and he opened it to enter the main foyer. Recognizing the familiar hallway that led to the dining room, he walked down the dark corridor knowing that the kitchen must be somewhere close by. He winced from the pain in his right thigh, hobbling down the stairs on his good leg as best he c
ould.

Finding the kitchen, he spotted some stale bread and moldy cheese that had been left out on the counter. He grabbed it and began eating, not caring that it tasted off. Spotting some fruit in a bowl, he gobbled it down in just a few bites. He searched the cupboards for a goblet, but when he heard someone behind him he spun ar
ound.