The Carnelian Tyranny: Savino’s Revenge (40 page)

“Is this where Savino sleeps? What if he finds me
here?”

“He shall not return until this evening. He has urgent business to attend to this mor
ning.”

“Yes, I know.” She gazed at him sadly. “The execu
tion.”

“Your Highness, you are not well,” he said sternly. “Why did you come
back?”

“Why do you think, Talvan? I’ve come to save my fi
ancé.”

His lips cracked a small smile. “I admire your spirit, Your Highness, but what exactly are you plan
ning?”

“Give me a minute. I’m working o
n it.”

He shook his head. “Six of the best warriors in the Guard are watching him day and night and the execution is scheduled to take place in less than ninety minutes. You are so sick that you cannot even stand and you have no weapons. I am more than willing to help, but I am only one man. How can we possibly prevail against the evil controlling this p
lace?”

“We have Garon on our side and that’s good enough for me.” She climbed out of bed and kneeled down next to it, motioning for him to join her. “Pray wit
h me.”

The giant warrior bent down next to her and removed his helmet, bowing his
head.

“Garon, what we fight for now is not for our own gain but for your glory. We know we can’t do this alone and we place our futures into your loving hands. Give us the wisdom to discern, the strength we need and the will to carry it out. Guide our footsteps as well as our tongues so that you will rule this land once again.
Amen.”

“Amen,” he whispered. “That was beautiful, Your Highness. But what do we do
now?”

Suddenly, she spotted the flower blooming in the pot on the table. Her eyes lit up with joy and she sm
iled.

“Talvan, I believe that I’ve just had an epip
hany.”

“Stop! What are you doing here?” the chief guard dema
nded.

“Delivering the prisoner’s last meal,” Talvan barked, lifting the tray in his hands. “His Majesty’s or
ders.”

“Fine, but no talking to the prisoner,” he said, cocking his head at him. “His Majesty’s or
ders.”

There were snickers from the other guards as Talvan moved toward the cell where the lone prisoner sat on the table, staring blankly at the wall. Setting the tray down on the stone floor of the prison, he slid it under the opening and s
tood.

Although he was aware of the activity in the chamber, Darian did not move. His eyes were focused on the deep crack running along the length of the wall. He wondered how many other doomed prisoners before him had also stared at that same crack. Maybe they had lost everything in their lives just as he had. And perhaps they had all wished for death just as he
did.

Sensing that Talvan was still standing next to the bars, he slowly turned to look. The warrior’s eyes locked briefly on his before they dropped to the floor, motioning to the tray. He shrugged with indifference, but as the cell grew lighter with a bright red glow, he followed the warrior’s gaze down to the floor and ga
sped.

The food on the tray was still covered with a cloth, but next to it was a small, red and white flower with the most beautiful petals he had ever seen. Sparkling tendrils of scarlet reached out to him, undulating from its center in a hypnotic, fluid motion. The plant pulsated with color, alternating between a snowy white and blood crimson. The indescribable beauty of the flower mesmerized him as it danced before his eyes, casting shifting colors of red and white across the painfully bleak dungeon w
alls.

Tearing his gaze away from the flower, he looked up at Talvan and gave him a tearful nod. The warrior closed his eyes in acknowledgement, and he lowered himself in a deep bow of res
pect.

“What is the meaning of the flower?” the chief guard sho
uted.

“It is the man’s last meal. Is there a problem, corp
oral?”

The chief guard exchanged uneasy glances with the other men and then watched the prisoner take some food from the
tray.

“No, sir,” he answered qui
etly.

“As you were.” Talvan turned and
left.

Wiping away a tear before anyone noticed it spilling down his cheek, Darian chewed his bread, still mesmerized by the flower. His heart overflowed with joy, causing a faint smile to rise to his lips. Somehow, somewhere, she was still a
live.

And she was letting him
know.

CHAPTER 38

ABOMINATION

“Show the prisoner in,” Savino ordered from the throne. Flanked on both sides by Gaspar and Raniero, he smiled in sadistic pleasure as six colossal warriors escorted Darian into the Knight’s
Hall.

With unkempt hair and a thick beard, his appearance was ragged and pale. His heavy manacles clanked loudly with each step he took. Looking as if he hadn’t slept in days, his loose linen shirt fell over his dark breeches that were wet and dirty from the filth of the dungeon. His soiled leather tunic hung open and his boots still had mud on them from the jou
rney.

Savino eyed his cousin from head to toe with obvious disgust, dismissing a few of the guards with a wave of his hand. “Each of you may be excused. You two shall remain here.” Four turned to leave while the other two remained on either side of Da
rian.

Talvan entered the hall behind them, quickly assessing the situation. Five against three. Not the best odds that he could have hoped for, but they would not get any better than that. Marisa slipped in just behind him, taking special care to stay out of Darian’s peripheral vi
sion.

Savino leapt to his feet, thrusting his scepter
out.

“Kneel!” he shouted, pointing at the floor as orange-yellow flames shot from his tongue. Darian clenched his jaw, but he didn’t move. “I am His Majesty the King! You shall kneel befor
e me!”

Sil
ence.

Marisa studied the faces of the men around the room. Gaspar’s stony expression seemed to reveal nothing, but Raniero’s cocky smirk displayed a revolting degree of arrogance. Although she couldn’t see the expression on Darian’s face, she could tell by the way his fists were balled that he would have torn his cousin apart if his hands had not been manacled toge
ther.

Savino stepped down from the platform to move closer to his prisoner. He circled his cousin, observing him from all angles before finally stopping within inches of his
face.

“You have always had too much pride, Da
rian.”

If that isn’t the pot calling the kettle black
, she tho
ught.

“You refuse to kneel before me because I suppose that you still believe that it should have been you. You and that Marisa, Maraya or whatever her name
was—”

“Her name was Queen Maraya Fiore!” he spewed, almost growling through gritted teeth. “And you killed
her.”

“Unfortunately, I cannot claim credit for her death, but she is dead nevertheless. And once you have been disposed of, there is, of course, your sister, Marcus and—oh yes, the elusive Ma
rino.”

Gaspar and Raniero exchanged bewildered gla
nces.

“Why am I here, Savino? If you want to kill me—just d
o it.”

“Not so fast, cousin,” he said calmly. “You shall die, I assure you. But yours shall be a slow, painful death. Not like that shepherd who only suffered for a scant six hours.” His eyes glittered wickedly as he s
poke.

Talvan moved his hands slowly behind his back, opening one of his fists for Marisa to see. In his palm lay a small key. Bruno’s words drifted back into her
mind.

Wise in your appr
oach…

“That man was innocent and you know it!” Darian shouted, his voice becoming ho
arse.

Her throat burned. Her cheeks were hot with fever and she almost could not stand from the dizziness. She mustered every ounce of strength she had left, took the key, and slowly crept toward Da
rian.

“That would depend on how one defines ‘innocent.’ But I cannot allow traitors such as he to run amok in the city, spouting their hateful propaganda against the king. I had to make an example of him, dear co
usin.”

“You are
not
my co
usin!”

“In any case,” Savino continued, “I have something truly special in mind for you. Although you shall be impaled like the shepherd, you shall be skewered from top to bottom through your two principal orifices. I shall leave it to you to figure out which ones those are,” he said with an evil chu
ckle.

Slipping quietly between the two guards, Marisa crept forward until she was standing directly behind Darian. His tall, broad frame towered over her, blocking her view of Savino who stood directly in front of
him.

Garon please be with me. Give me stre
ngth.

“Did you not imagine things turning out like this when we played together as boys?” He stepped closer, meeting Darian’s eyes mockingly. “No? Well I did. I always knew that someday I would defeat
you.”

Moving her head slightly to see Savino turn away to ascend the steps to the throne, she sprang into action now that the window of opportunity had opened. Slipping her hands around Darian’s waist, she felt him flinch. Then she stood on her tiptoes, kissing the back of his neck softly and smiling to herself as he responded with a shu
dder.

“It’s me, Darian,” she whispered in his ear in English. “And now it’s my turn to save you. Don’t move until I give the signal. Oh, and by the way, I love
you.”

Leaning out just enough to meet his gaze, she kissed his cheek, her heart fluttering with joy when she saw the love and relief mirrored in his
eyes.

Darian’s soul trembled with joy as he fought to maintain his stoic expression. A renewed sense of purpose coursed through him now that he knew for certain she was alive. She and Talvan were obviously planning something, but he needed to stay alert for whenever she gave the signal. In the midst of his quiet rejoicing, he listened to Savino dron
e on.

“I am feeling rather nostalgic and perhaps, somewhere, I am also sorry that things are ending this way. After all, we are family. And you have been a most formidable foe, Darian F
iore.”

She moved her hand around his waist, feeling for the manacles that bound his hands together. Pressing the key into his palm, she kissed his ear tenderly. All of the hairs on his body stood on
end.

He watched her creep silently toward Savino, stopping just a few paces from where he sat on the throne. She wiped the beads of sweat dotting her forehead and paused, waiting for the right mo
ment.

Darian stood perfectly still, feeling for the small indentation on his manacles. As the key found its hole and his fingers turned it in the lock, he smiled ever so slightly to him
self.

“But in my heart I knew that I would rule Crocetta and Abbadon someday,” he drawled. “I had always hoped that I wouldn’t have to kill you to do it. And what a pity that Maraya is not here to witness your tragic
end.”

She squeezed the Ambrogia stone in the palm of her hand and then raised it to her lips, kissing it softly. She lifted the amulet from her head, becoming instantly visible to everyone in the
room.

“The tragic end I’m here to see is yours, Sa
vino!”

Savino jumped to his feet, raising a hand to stop the warriors who had already drawn their wea
pons.

“Well, I must say that I am extremely surprised to see you here. And pleased, I might add,” he purred. “How remarkable that you have managed to survive in spite of the overwhelming odds. Perhaps you would make a worthy queen for me after all,
hmm?”

She smiled wryly at him. “I’ll never be yours, Savino. Not if you were the last man on Carn
elia.”

“Pity, but that is your choice. So, it appears that we shall have two executions today.” He rubbed his hands together. “The two lovers dying next to one another—how poetic. Shall we get on wit
h it?”

Sneaking a glance at Darian and noting his position, she rubbed her fingers on the stone one last time before tossing it high into the air. “Darian—catch!” she shouted in Eng
lish.

The manacles fell from his hands, clanging loudly as they hit the floor. With lightning-fast reflexes, he reached up and caught the amulet, slipping it around his neck before the others knew what was happening. Instantly invisible, he jumped out of the way just in time before two guards crashed into one ano
ther.

Talvan unsheathed his sword and sprinted to the rear of the room, slamming the oaken door of the Knight’s Hall and bolting it shut just as more guards appeared. The men outside in the corridor pounded and shouted but Talvan ignored them, concentrating on the two warriors inside the
hall.

Cowering in the far corner, Gaspar searched for a weapon, but he could find none. Raniero unsheathed his sword, holding it in front of him in a defensive posi
tion.

Marisa backed up against the wall, praying that Darian and Talvan would be able to defeat them. Succumbing to her sickness, she slid down the wall and sat on the stone f
loor.

Amidst the clashing and clanging of swords from Talvan fighting his own men, Darian moved around the left flank in search of a weapon. Finding none, he moved up behind one of them and slammed his elbow with as much force as he could muster into the warrior’s midsection. As the soldier doubled over in pain, he knocked the sword from the man’s hand and grabbed it up off the f
loor.

At that moment, the other soldier sliced into Talvan’s thigh with his sword. The copper-haired warrior screamed in pain, falling backward onto the ground. The soldier raised his sword in the air, but Darian rushed forward to stab him in the back before he could plunge it into Talvan. The lifeless body of the soldier slumped to the floor, unmo
ving.

The other warrior who was just recovering from Darian’s blow whipped his head around in a panic as if being chased by a ghost. His face scrunched up in agony as he fell to the ground, stabbed through the heart by Darian’s s
word.

“Stop!” Savino hollered. “Stop now or she is
dead!”

Darian stopped abruptly, his eyes darting to his co
usin.

Savino was backed up against the wall, using Marisa as a shield and holding a dagger to her th
roat.

Darian hesitated, hearing Eman’s voice in his head that was asking him the same question from their v
isit.

What if you were called to sacrifice that which is most dear to you in the world for the greater
good?

He recalled his resp
onse:

I would hope I never have to do that, but, if it came down to it, I would have no choice but to make the sacri
fice.

“Cousin, if you do not show yourself now, I shall kill
her.”

His mind and heart fought each other in the worst kind of battle. He could kill his cousin right now and end his tyrannical reign. But she was in the way. Savino would kill her the moment Darian made his move. Could he abandon her for the good of the kingdom? He had thought that he had lost her forever, but she was a
live!

“This is your last chance!” Savino shouted his war
ning.

Darian paused, glancing down at the pulsing color of the stone. He had told Eman that he would have no choice but to sacrifice that which was most dear to him for the greater good. But, now that he had a choice, he could not bear to lose her again and could not sacrifice her for the sake of the kin
gdom.

He looked up at her sadly as his fingers closed around the amulet, slowly lifting it up from around his
neck.

“No, Darian!” she cried, shaking her head. “D
on’t!”

“Forgive me, Maraya,” he whisp
ered.

Just as he was about to pull it over his head, Marisa slammed her elbow hard against Savino’s ribs. While he was doubled over in pain, she spun around, knocking the weapon from his hand. In the blink of an eye, she reached under her skirt and removed her own dagger from its holster, plunging it deep into his c
hest.

“That was for Eman!” she cried lo
udly.

Blood soaked through his tunic as the realization of what she had done was reflected in his eyes. The life in him floated out of his body, and he slumped to the ground. In that instant, an earth-shattering sonic boom sent a giant shockwave rippling through the city, rattling the citadel’s foundations to their very
core.

The instant Savino’s body hit the floor, Marisa felt a sharp, stabbing pain in the region of her heart, and her legs buckled under. The ground trembled beneath their feet as a massive earthquake caused the glass panes to vibrate in their frames. She covered her head with her arms as loose bits of rock and mortar fell to the floor. The swords rattled noisily against the stone wall until one of them finally came loose, clanging loudly as it hit the gr
ound.