The Carnelian Tyranny: Savino’s Revenge (34 page)

“Enjoy your last night in here,” the guard said, mocking. The keys on his belt jangled as he walked to the end of the corridor and settled onto the s
tool.

“Who is there?” Cozimo a
sked.

“It is I,
Eman.”

“Why are you here in this Garon-forsaken place?” he a
sked.

“Not Garon-forsaken, Garon-
filled
,” he answ
ered.

“Did he just say it was your last night here?” Arrie a
sked.

“Aye.” Eman pulled the blanket around him as Cozimo leaned against the cell bars separating
them.

“Are you being transfe
rred?”

“No,” he answered sadly. “Tomorrow I shall
die.”

“What is your crime?” Cozimo dema
nded.

“I am accused of treason and blasp
hemy.”

“How can you be so calm?” Arrie asked. “I am filled with dread when I think that I might not live to see tomo
rrow!”

Eman moved over to grasp the bars that separated him from Arrie. “Dear one, not only shall you live to see tomorrow, but you shall go on to live a full life. Indeed, you shall experience more love and happiness than you can ever possibly ima
gine.”

“But how do you know this?” he said, eyeing him skeptic
ally.

“I know and I see. I knew it before you were
born.”

Cozimo squinted at Eman, moving toward the bars to examine him closely in the dim light. His eyes widened as they focused on the long, ragged cloak he was wea
ring.

Dark brown with white str
ipes.

Eman saw Cozimo staring at him and moved up closer to study his face. “You have a question for me,” he stated matter-of-fa
ctly.

Slowly, Cozimo reached down into the pocket of his cloak, removing an old piece of brown woolen fabric with thick and thin white stripes. He stared down at it for a moment before reaching through the bars to grasp Eman’s cloak. He turned it over and around, examining it carefully until he found a tear, a square-shaped hole near the bottom. Placing the piece of cloth over the hole, he saw that it fit exactly, the white lines of the fabric lining up perfe
ctly.

He lifted his eyes to meet Eman’s gaze. “Are yo
u—He?”

Eman smiled at him. “
I am.”

Suddenly, an earthquake rumbled through the citadel’s foundations. The bars of the cells shook slightly as bits of mortar and dust rained down on them from the ceiling a
bove.

When the quake at last subsided, Arrie stared at them in bewilderment. “What was
that?”

“The prophecy has come
true!”

Eman nodded. “My time is near and so is y
ours.”

Cozimo fell to his knees. “It is an honor to be with
you.”

“Do not fear. Garon is
very
near.”

“Well, the warriors are gone, but we should probably stay down here just the same,” Alessio announced, shutting the pantry door and returning to the others hiding in the secret cellar. “We wouldn’t want to be murdered in our beds by our own stupid careless
ness.”

“How long must we stay down here?” Cinzia asked. “Do we have enough
food?”

“Fortunately for us, Celino prepared things well. There is plenty of food to last us for several more weeks,” Tino said. “It should be enough until King Bertoldo’s army arr
ives.”

“But what if they never made it to Terracina?” Helena whined. “What if something has happened to them,
too?”

“Adalina is safe with Celino and Mark,” Alessio assured her. “We just have to be patient and wait for them to return with the Terracine f
leet.”

“Perhaps we should try to sneak aboard a ship,” Tino suggested. “It may be our last chance for es
cape.”

“I don’t think we should even attempt it. We’re at the top of Savino’s most wanted list and shouldn’t be taking unnecessary r
isks.”

“What do we do about Marisa?” Helena asked. “Do you think something has happened to
her?”

“Okay, everyone—enough questions!” Alessio shouted. “I don’t know any more than yo
u do.”

Everyone fell si
lent.

“I’m sorry. But I’m just as frustrated as you are. I think that girl is probably faring better than any of us right now. She has the amulet and she’s a smart girl. Hopefully she won’t try anything stupid and definitely knows how to get ar
ound.”

“Dearest, what about Arrigo?” Cinzia eyed her husband calmly. “Isn’t there something we can do to find
him?”

He took in his arms. “We have to place him in Garon’s capable hands and pray. It’s all we can do at this p
oint.”

CHAPTER 32

JUDGMENT

Porfiro knocked on the chamber door. “Sire? Are you a
wake?”

Darian rolled over, squinting at the daylight that peeked through the gaps of the thick velvet drapes. He opened the door and grew immediately concerned when he saw the anxious expression on the baron’s
face.

“Sire, I am sorry to disturb you so early, but I thought you should know. The shepherd is to be executed today at the cit
adel.”

“Eman?” He stared at him with a puzzled face.
“Why?”

“He has been charged with blasphemy against the Supreme Ruler. My wife informed me that, while we were away, the shepherd has been preaching quite passionately to thousands of pe
ople.”

“This just cannot be!” He grabbed his tunic, breastplate and cloak from the chair, hastily slipping the
m on.

“Because he has spoken out against Savino at every turn, the count means to silence him for
ever.”

“How is he to
die?”

Porfiro hesitated. “He is to be impaled,
Sire.”

“Impaled!”
Darian shouted, shaking his head. “No, no, I must stop this madness.” He sat on the bed and pulled on his b
oots.

“If you are discovered, you will be executed,” Porfiro warned. “How can you stop this and not get ca
ught?”

Darian ran a hand through his hair. “I do not know. But I cannot sit here and allow that innocent man to be ki
lled.”

“But it is madness, Your High
ness!”

“I may be mad, but I have nothing else to lose.” He tightened the notch on his scabbard and moved to the washstand. “When is the execution set to take p
lace?

“At the midday
hour.”

He splashed water on his face. “Is Master Loris awake
yet?”

“No. Should I wake
him?”

“Yes. We shall need the other men as well,” he said, drying himself with a linen towel. “How can we get word to
them?”

“Leave that to me, Your High
ness.”

“Marisa, wake up—wake up!” Matilda shook her shoulder ge
ntly.

“What i
s it?”

“I just heard some horrible news. Your shepherd friend is to be executed t
oday!”

She sat up quickly. “Eman?
Why?”

“Apparently, for speaking out against Savino. He means to make an example of him for all to
see.”

“When will it ha
ppen?”

“At noon. In the citadel sq
uare.”

Marisa threw back the covers, jumping out of bed. “I’ve got to stop him. Do you know where Ema
n is?”

“He could only be in the dung
eons.”

“How do I get t
here?”

Matilda shook her head. “That I do not know. You are more familiar with this castle th
an I.”

“I never even knew there were dungeons here. Maybe Talvan can show me.” She stopped to meet her gaze. “Please tell me he’s still a
live…”

“Yes, but only seldom does he ever come up here. I have not seen him in
days.”

“Tell me everything you know about Savino’s schedule. Who does he meet with and when? Where does he go? I need to find his Achilles’
heel.”

“Achilles’
heel?”

She dismissed it with a wave. “I’ll tell you about it some other time. But I need to ask you something f
irst.”

“
What?”

“How do you feel about me killing your bro
ther?”

Tino hurried back to Celino’s house with a loaf of bread under his arm, entering quickly through the side door. Dropping the bread onto the kitchen table, he flew down the stairs and woke the other three still slee
ping.

“Wake up! Something terrible is about to ha
ppen!”

“What is it?” Alessio asked. “Did you find Arrie and Ma
risa?”

He shook his head. “No. I went to the bakery and heard some horrible news there. Eman is to be executed at the cit
adel!”

“Eman—no!” Cinzia c
ried.

“He has been charged with blasphemy. Savino has decreed that he shall be executed by impale
ment!”

Alessio stood, slipping an arm into his t
unic.

“Where are you going?” Cinzia a
sked.

“I can’t hide down here while he is being put to d
eath!”

“I shall come with you,” said
Tino.

“But what if you are captured? What is to become of us then?” Helena asked. “We shall come with
you.”

“That would be most unwise, Your Highness,” Tino said. “You and Baroness Macario should remain
here.”

Helena looked him squarely in the eye. “Tino, I have just lost my only son, my daughter is somewhere in exile and there is no sign of the young woman who should have been my daughter-in-law. I would rather die at the hands of Savino than down here hiding like a co
ward.”

Cinzia stood up. “We make a stand together or we die trying. It may be impossible to stop Savino’s tyrannical reign, but we can start a fire that will burn through Carnelia,” she said passiona
tely.

Alessio slipped his arm around her waist and smiled. “Do you see why I married this w
oman?”

“Eman, are you awake?” Arrie whisp
ered.

“Yes. I am afraid that sleep has eluded me this n
ight.”

“Is Cozimo still as
leep?”

He glanced over his shoulder. “I think so. He remained awake with me for most of the n
ight.”

“I just cannot believe this is happening,” Arrie said, shaking his head sadly. “Are you not fright
ened?”

“No, for my death shall not be in
vain.”

“When will they come for
you?”

“Soon. Let us pray toge
ther.”

The two men bowed their heads in prayer. Hearing their voices, Cozimo stirred and sat up to join them. But after only a few minutes, they were interrupted by a group of warr
iors.

“Take the prisoner!” the lead warrior ordered. A second man opened the door and clapped the handcuffs over Eman’s wrists. They dragged him to his feet and pushed him out of the
cell.

Eman glanced back at his cellmates. “
Ap eirie
,” he said as a warrior shoved him toward the s
teps.

“
Ap eirie
,” Arrie and Cozimo said in un
ison.

“Wait a minute,” the lead warrior shouted, pointing to Cozimo. “We are supposed to take this man as
well.”

Two guards opened the cell and pulled Cozimo to his feet, dragging him in chains down to the end of the corridor. Arrie watched as eight warriors surrounded Eman and led him up the stairs out of s
ight.

The dungeon became still once again as Arrie’s head sank to his chest, bowing in silent pr
ayer.

The warriors led the two prisoners up a circular staircase until they came to a dim hallway with only bare stone walls. Eman heard Cozimo panting heavily behind him as they climbed the s
teps.

A warrior shoved Eman into a small chamber with only a single chair, forcing him to sit. He looked out into the corridor at Cozimo, smiling reassuringly at him just before the door slammed shut. He stared at the bareness of the room and saw one small window with bars on it up near the cei
ling.

Watching the clouds rolling across the sky, he began to
pray.

My Father, let this day pass swiftly so that I may once again be in Your holy presence in Syion. My heart is heavy for what is to come, but I know that this is Your will and I take all the iniquities upon myself. Let Your glory shine once again throughout Carnelia and bless those who have blessed me.
Amen.

As the prayer escaped his lips and drifted out the window in the form of a misty white vapor, a bright light from the outside shone down through the bars, filling the cell with indescribable warmth and p
eace.

In the dark, vaulted room somewhere deep in the bowels of the castle, two guards forced Cozimo to kneel on the ground. He smelled the foul stench of decay as the warrior pushed his cheek down onto a slippery block of wood covered in b
lood.

Eman had said that his time was near, but he felt no sorrow. He had come to the end of the road and looked back at his journey with immense satisfaction. His purpose had been fulfilled and it was time to receive his re
ward.

He was trembling, but not from fear. His heart beat rapidly in his chest from excitement and longing. Today would be the start of a new and glorious existence. It was the final, climactic moment he had waited for his entire
life.