Gems of Fire: A Young Adult Fantasy

by Diane E. Samson

  Gems of Fire

  Book 1

  Diane E. Samson

  Gems of Fire

  by Diane E. Samson

  Published by Clean Reads

  www.cleanreads.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

  GEMS OF FIRE

  Copyright © 2018 DIANE E. SAMSON

  ISBN 978-1-62135-807-7

  Cover Art Designed by CORA GRAPHICS

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  About the Author

  Untitled

  For Hannah

  Chapter 1

  Anna squinted as the afternoon sun burned the sod on the large oval track. Her fingers clenched the railing of her father’s box as the horses flew around the last turn. A big brown colt surged just at the end and won by a neck. She released the rail and turned toward new guests gathering for the final race, the Landseer Cup.

  One more race and then it was her turn. She quit gnawing on the inside of her cheek as an ache moved to her chest. The start drew closer with every thump of her heart. This race was the beginning of a new life for the Princess of Sutherland. This was where she proved her worth. She would be next to her brother, leading knights and men, not sitting around like a stupid court ornament.

  Today she would silence the sneers of her father’s advisor, Seamus. Even her father would see her as more than a little girl. They would take note as she rode Farley, the young stallion no man had been able to tame. Anna would not only ride him, she would win as Farley ran all those smug men into the ground. Her lips lifted into a slight smile at the thought of it. She drank the rest of her punch and set her glass on a servant’s tray. It would be her first day of respect.

  The air buzzed with the low rumble of people finding their seats. Women flapped their fans and exclaimed at the heat. Men exchanged last minute coins before the horses stepped on the track to run for the ultimate prize—the golden Landseer Cup. A rowdier crowd gathered at the rails and men downed large mugs of ale. The tangy scent of it drifted upward and turned her stomach. She wished she had worn a dress that didn’t cut into her waist.

  Anna glanced down at the oval turf once again. Horses pranced onto the track for the next to last race with gleaming coats and flashy jockey’s colors on their backs. Flags emblazoned with Sunderland’s seal—a bright orange flame set against a white mountain—flapped above the riders’ heads. It was almost time to go.

  The man next to her interrupted Anna’s thoughts.

  “Anna, you have an eye for horses. Do you think Prince Lewis will win the Cup again?” asked Count Jadran. “His horses are always fast, but I was honestly hoping someone from Sunderland would win this year.” He nodded back toward her father’s seats. It was no secret winning this race was a conquest the king had never achieved.

  “Lewis is hard to bet against,” Anna said, the color rising in her cheeks. “But you never know, we might have a trick up our sleeves this year.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “A trick?”

  “I heard at the stables there might be a last minute entry. A desert horse, I think, but running for Sunderland.” She flicked her eyes toward the stables where she had snuck Farley in before dawn. She should be on her way by now.

  “Who told you that?” His voice softened.

  “Some stable boys, but you know how they talk.” Anna shrugged while beads of sweat trickled down her neck. Jadran was a perfect gentleman. She always liked the honest way the skin crinkled at the corner of his eyes when he smiled. She didn’t mind giving him a betting tip, but she was running out of time. Go away, Count Jadran.

  Jadran nodded, jingling gold coins in his hands.

  “Your father needs a win. I hope he gets it today.” He sauntered toward the betting table, and Anna exhaled her relief. She would get her father the win and pull him out of the twelve-year pit he’s been in, ever since her mother died. He would be proud when Farley won. He would laugh. He would embrace her. He would send Seamus away. Or it could make matters worse. She shook her head, pushing the doubts back down.

  Her heart skipped a beat when some of the horses left their stalls. Grooms and riders scurried around them. Anna’s stomach dropped. The time had come. She glanced at her father who was chatting with the royal court and flicked her fan in front of her nose. Her older brother, Stefan, the crown prince, was dashing in his dress-hunting tunic and surrounded by three young ladies eyeing for his attention.

  “I need a little air,” she said to no one in particular and slipped to the back of the landing while the crowd moved forward. No one seemed to notice as she crept down the stairs.

  Anna fanned herself as she walked toward the stable, trying to cover her face as much as possible.

  I have to at least try. She started to sweat and knew it wasn’t from the heat. Anna stopped by the entry office and gave the official the papers and the money to run. The man raised his eyebrows in surprise, but handed Anna her number, nine.

  “The horse’s name?”

  Anna hesitated. Farley was well-known.

  “Midnight. His name is Midnight.”

  “And the owner?”

  “King Vilipp.”

  The man’s eyebrows lowered. “The king?”

  “It’s a surprise.” She held her finger to her mouth and winked. “Don’t tell unless he wins.”

  The man frowned as Anna hurried toward Farley, waiting in his stall.

  I have to be calm for his sake.

  The earthy smell of horse hit her as she stepped inside the stables. Her heart pounded as she hurried to his stall. Farley thrust his long, black nose over the stall door and snorted, blowing sweet, hay-scented breath toward her.

  She crept into the dingy stall, hid behind Farley’s huge body and slipped out of her long, heavy dress. She scrambled into the small rider’s uniform she had stolen…well, borrowed and stashed in Farley’s stall. Her hands shook so much, she could barely fasten the pants and pull on the black boots. She wrapped fabric around her small chest to look more like a boy, but she knew it probably wasn’t necessary. She braided her hair, tied it with a ribbon, pinned it into a high bun and pushed it up into her hat.

  A shrill whinny made Anna jump. The other horses were getting closer to the track.

  Hurry.

  Anna’s hands flew as she saddled and bridled Farley. She pulled the hat down low over her eyes as they stepped out of the stall and toward the track.

  Farley snorted and tossed his head as they neared the other horses—and the race ahead. Only those with the fastest horses in the surrounding kingdoms dared compete for the golden cup. The prize lay in the hands of Prince Lewis of Durham, the kingdom bordering Sunderland on the
northwest. His chestnut horse, Kaspar, would run again this year. Anna glanced at the officials as Lewis handed the cup over. It would soon belong to this year’s winner. She could almost see her father holding the cup in triumph.

  We’ll win today, Father.

  Most of the horses were already ahead of her on their way to the start. She stopped a stable boy to give her a leg up and adjusted the number on her back.

  She moved Farley onto the track. He danced in place. She tightened her grip on the reins, feeling his energy pulse through them. Farley’s sides were tight. He jumped at a tap of her leg.

  “Easy, boy, not yet,” she said, attempting to calm the horse, but her shaking voice betrayed her. She wiped sweaty hands on her pants one at a time. The big horse broke into a springy trot and pulled on the bit. His nicker vibrated through her legs and her calves tightened around his sides, ready for him to jump sideways or bolt. She let him move into the mass of horses and warm up. A faint wet-horse smell reached her nose. Flecks of foam were already on Farley’s neck.

  Farley’s head shot straight up and a quiver went through his whole body. He, too, had caught the scent of competition. He half-reared and shook his head. Anna pointed him toward the start and squeezed him into a canter.

  Anna saw a gate open just to her right. A man carried a flag onto the track, leaving the gate open behind him. She could bolt right through it.

  It’s your last chance, a voice said to her.

  No. Anna answered. Father will see what I can do.

  Take it! No one would ever know you were here.

  No! I’m going to finish. She swallowed hard and blocked out the crowd.

  She leaned forward onto his neck, pressing her hands onto his black mane. She let him canter on, loosening up his legs. The start was half a lap away. He pulled on the bit again and Anna was forced to use a see-saw rein to slow him down.

  Not yet, Farley.

  His chin ducked toward his chest and his stride shortened to springy hops as he collected his energy. The start neared and Anna managed to get Farley slowed down and lined up next to the other prancing horses. Farley’s pulse thudded against her calves. A red flag went up. Hundreds of eyes fell upon it.

  The flag fell.

  A bell rang.

  The horses lunged forward. Farley’s surge of power left Anna a little behind in the saddle. She grabbed his mane and pulled herself up. Farley galloped a few lengths behind the leader who was eating up ground with great strides. Tears streamed down Anna’s face as the wind whipped into her eyes. The hindquarters of the gray horse in front rose and fell and were getting ever closer. She tried to slow Farley down. He shook his head. No, boy! You’ll tire out at this speed. Finally, he relented, and the gray horse stayed about one length ahead around the first turn. Farley swerved at the crowd’s roar as they flew by the stands the first time.

  “Easy, Farley.” Anna steadied him.

  The gray horse was flying now and surged out ahead of them into the next turn. Farley lengthened his strides and caught up. Dodging flying sod, Anna tried to sit still to let Farley settle into his pace. She kept Farley right on the gray horse, who was running easily. Anna checked Farley again to save his speed for the finish. She glanced behind her. A couple horses were running a few strides back, including last year’s winner, Kaspar. Anna hoped they kept their distance. She knew if one of them even slightly clipped Farley’s heels, they would both go down. She squinted, shoving the terrible image of falling horses out of her mind.

  Focus, Anna!

  She and Farley were seconds from beginning the next turn. The horses behind her edged closer. The gray was slowing and drifted to the outside. Anna took a chance for the short trip around the inside turn and pulled Farley to the rail. Just as his head drew alongside the gray horse’s hindquarters, there was a sudden rush on the outside. A brown horse moved up alongside the gray and bumped him over.

  Anna’s heart stopped for a moment as she yelled and tugged on her reins. There was no place for Farley to go! She instinctively leaned back, pulling hard on his mouth. She prayed Farley could slow down before he tripped over the gray’s flying hooves.

  Farley grunted, but responded, pulling up just as the big gray horse swung in front of them again. Now the gray was tiring fast. Anna heard a sudden flurry of hoof beats behind her as they headed down the backstretch. Farley bobbled and slowed his pace.

  Kaspar pulled up beside them, and the gray continued to slow. Anna would have to wait for Kaspar to pass before she could get to the outside. Kaspar’s rider seemed to understand Anna’s predicament. Trapped! Kaspar would wait to finish passing the gray until it was too late for Farley to charge. Anna made a quick decision and again pulled on the reins for Farley to slow. The great horse protested, leaning into the bit. He seemed to want to run right over the gray horse.

  “Easy, Farley!” she yelled, pulling hard. The big horse consented, shaking his head in fury. He pinned his ears flat against his head. At last, Kaspar’s hindquarters cleared Farley’s head, and Anna pulled Farley to the outside as they went around the final turn. Farley ran wide, and Anna tugged on her left rein to straighten him out. Kaspar was now several lengths ahead of them and gaining. The finish loomed in the distance. Does he have time? Anna couldn’t know.

  “Go, boy, go!” she called. Farley lunged forward, his great strides eating up ground at a remarkable rate. He surged on. In a matter of seconds, Kaspar was right beside them. Farley paused and then shot ahead of the chestnut. At once, a black horse on the outside had his nose almost on Anna’s right leg.

  “Run!” she yelled.

  The other rider went for his whip and edged his horse closer. He was now at Anna’s shoulder. Then Farley saw him. He turned his head to the side and pinned his ears, swerving a bit. Anna tried to correct him, but he still drifted to the outside. Pulling on her left rein, Anna turned his nose back toward the finish. He stretched his neck forward and thundered on. The black horse’s head disappeared. Farley was pulling away. With every stride the hoof beats behind them grew softer while the crowd roared. The next thing Anna saw was a red flag waving. They had won. Anna gasped for air as joyful tears slid down her cheeks.

  “Good boy, Farley,” she whispered into his neck as she patted him. Nothing mattered now. Farley had won, and everyone would know he was the fastest horse alive.

  Anna slowed Farley to a canter and moved him toward the winner’s stand. His heart pounded against her legs as she gripped his heaving sides. She glanced up at the box where her father was watching. Hundreds of eyes peered down on her. Anna’s throat tightened. She shuddered as she saw a bustle of people talking and pointing at her, followed by a rumble of exclamation. A voice was shouting.

  “Number nine! The owner of number nine!”

  The owner was supposed to come down to the horse and accept the cup. No one was approaching, except a group of soldiers. Anna knew two of them, Frederick and Edwin.

  Please, Father. Accept this.

  “Halt!” one said as he grabbed Farley’s reins. Farley half-reared. “You aren’t properly entered in this race!”

  Anna mumbled something as she tumbled off Farley’s back. Her tired legs buckled as she hit the ground. Strong arms grabbed her on each side.

  “Let me loosen his girth!” she snapped, wiggling free.

  “How did you get in here?” one soldier demanded. Frederick, she thought. “What horse is this? Because it looks a lot like the princess’s horse. If you’ve stolen him—”

  “Keep him walking!” She thrust her finger in the soldier’s face. “He’s just run the race of his life!”

  “You should be a little more worried about what’s going to happen to you than cooling out your horse,” spat Frederick. “And I’ll teach you to speak to a soldier of the king that way!”

  “Wait! Let me explain—”

  He raised his hand to offer a blow, but the other man pulled her back out of range. Her head thudded against his chest.

  “Let’s just t
ake him to the king,” he said.

  A crowd gathered. Edwin jostled her under her father’s seat and shoved her to her knees.

  “Speak, boy!” Edwin ripped off her hat and tossed it to her lap. Anna’s golden hair dropped past her shoulders, the braid unraveling in a mess. A gasp escaped the crowd. The men jumped back and bowed before her.

  “Princess Anna. We had no idea.”

  Anna stood, twisting the hat in her hands. She cringed as she heard the head race official scrambling to understand what had happened.

  “Who entered this horse?” the track official boomed to the crowd. “Who is the owner of this horse?”

  The king stood.

  “I am.” He glared at Anna.

  The crowd quieted. The race official fell to one knee.

  The king continued, “And I will take responsibility for this. Because the horse was not properly entered, we will give the cup to the fine horse who placed second. An excellent race, Answurth.” He motioned to the big black horse’s owner.

  Lord Answurth retrieved the cup from the official’s hand to subdued applause.

  Anna wanted to close her eyes. She stole a quick glance at her stoned-faced father, who motioned for her to be taken away.

  He nodded to Lord Seamus, who was whispering furiously into his ear. Stefan appeared at her side.

  “Get your hands off her!” he demanded and led Anna away from the crowd.

  “Well, that was quite a ride.” His face sobered. “I wish I could help you, but Father won’t be light on this one.” He led her to the king’s carriage, soldiers in tow.

  “But why?” asked Anna. “He finally won the Cup.” She winced at the thought of the coming punishment.