Stefan flushed a bit and squeezed her shoulder. “I’m on your side, but his own daughter, riding in the race?”
The soldiers opened the carriage door. Anna glanced back at Farley. Bart, his groom, was leading him to the barn. “I needed to prove this, Stefan. Do you understand?”
“I suppose. I just wish you hadn’t.”
“I for once wanted him to see me—not Mother,” Anna said.
“Well, I’m sure this stunt accomplished that. Mother never would have done anything so—”
“Stupid.”
“I wasn’t going to say that.” He lifted his hand toward her for a moment but let it fall to his side.
“You might as well have. With his love of the races, I hoped I’d win his heart along with the cup. But now I see it’s impossible.” Her heart fell as she climbed into the carriage.
Stefan stepped up to the door. “Not impossible, Anna. He just wants you to be respectable, honorable. It’s time.”
“So he can marry me off.”
“Of course not.” He frowned. “Is there something else wrong?”
Anna’s throat tightened. Her eyes filled with tears as she shook her head. She wanted so much to tell him everything—but her mouth refused. She managed a small smile. “Thank you, Stefan, for coming to me,” she said, choking out the words.
He stepped back as the driver clucked to the horses.
Chapter 2
The carriage bounced along the winding road toward the castle Karfin as Anna considered Stefan. He’d always tried to watch out for her since her mother had passed away when Anna was only four years old. She closed her eyes and still felt his young arms holding her as Mother’s coffin was laid to rest.
“It’ll be all right, Anna,” he had whispered to her. “I’m here for you.”
Stefan had been true to his word, except now he traveled with the army for months at a time. As crown prince, he was traveling to every part of the kingdom, negotiating with dukes and lords, making sure the king still had their allegiance. When he returned, he spent long days participating in war strategy exercises with the generals. He would make a good king, but the best thing about him was he always took time for Anna when he could—even a moment for a wink, a smile, a quick banter.
She stared out the carriage window, losing focus as they passed the horse pastures where foals pranced, reared, and slept around their grazing mothers. One peeked under his mother’s belly at the noisy carriage going by, but Anna hardly noticed.
The horses pulled the carriage through the outer gate, a small opening in the towering, thick stone wall that surrounded the castle grounds in a semi-circle from the bank of the river. A small village resided within the outer wall, where the tradesmen set up their shops and bartered with farmers. The village air was always tinged with the scent of tilled earth, hay, chickens, horses and manure.
The carriage horses startled as a young girl bolted out of a vendor’s stall, squealing as a boy her age chased her with some creature in his hand. Anna glanced out at the single inn in the village. The innkeeper’s wife was still there, loading up wagons of food and supplies for the festival to be held under the stars by the track later that evening. Anna thought of the singing, the food, the drinking and the dancing under the tents by the track. All would be missed. And for what? Nothing. She bumped her head on the back of the seat.
As they neared the castle, Anna didn’t admire the manicured flower and hedge gardens where walkways brought visitors to fountains and sculptures. She preferred wildflowers instead of those pruned to perfection here. The benches and gazebos were empty. Everyone was at the track except the dutiful soldiers guarding the grounds from a small watchtower. Only a few horses remained in the great stone stables where Farley and about a hundred of the king’s finest horses slept. She supposed Farley would eventually make his way back there in the evening.
The stone castle rested on the other side of the Alpin River, backing to a tall mountainside composed of white rock. Guards lowered a long bridge to allow people to enter and leave the castle. It was the only way in and easily guarded.
The carriage stopped in front of the bridge. The chains whined and squealed as the thick oak bridge lowered, protesting its enormous weight. It landed with a solid thud. Anna knew most people in the kingdom thought of this place as paradise. To her, it was a prison. She could never escape the scorning disapproval of her father and his royal counsel. Anna dropped her eyes and stepped out of the carriage.
“Do you need any assistance, Your Highness?” asked one of the guards, as she paused before the bridge. Fatigue washed through her as the river bubbled underneath.
“No, thank you.”
“Princess Anna, may I be allowed to speak?”
“Of course, Frederick.”
“I truly did not know it was you. Can you forgive me?”
“There’s no need.” She walked on, thinking of the blow he’d almost given her at the track. She glanced over her shoulder. “Don’t worry about your head. It will be still attached in the morning.”
Which is more than I can hope for my own. Her legs swayed as she crossed the bridge to the cold, quiet castle. She glanced to the white rock mountain behind it. The setting sun cast long shadows on the rock, turning the stone castle and mountain into a patchwork of grey and white, smooth and rough. If only there were a way out.
Cool, damp air surrounded her as she stepped through the door. It was a welcome relief from the heat and sweat of the track. Her dirty boots clicked on the quiet stone hall as she made her way toward her room. She paused a few steps from an open doorway as a hint of perfume greeted her. Giggling poured from the room. She raised her eyebrows, surprised the court ladies weren’t all at the track. The last thing she wanted was an encounter with—
“You! Servant girl! Come in here, my hem is coming out of my dress and I must—” Arissa cut off her words as Anna stepped in the room. Arissa’s perfect green eyes, rimmed with gold, opened in surprise before quickly turning to something like scorn.
“Your Highness,” she said, barely dipping her head. Arissa wasn’t taller than Anna, but the way she held her chin and peered down her nose always made Anna feel smaller. She was the daughter of a great lord and was at court by her father’s invitation. The king needed his allegiance.
“I’m surprised to see you here,” Anna said to the room of ladies who were obviously getting ready for the feast and festival. “Most everyone has already left.”
“We were hot at the track and decided to come back and change into fresh dresses,” Lady Selina said as she twirled a lock of dark hair around her finger. “Father let us take the carriage.”
“Is that what you wore to the race?” Arissa asked in a barely civil tone. One of the other girls lightly snorted and another giggled. Anna forced her chin up. She opened her mouth to speak, but Lady Gavriela interrupted.
“Oh, my! You rode in the Cup,” she said. As lady of the famed equestrians of Durham and first cousin of Prince Lewis, she would recognize the racing leathers and dirt-smudged face. The girls’ eyes traveled over her in shock. Anna curled her fingers toward her palms to hide the dirt under her nails. Lady Gavriela’s eyes shone with a flicker of admiration. “My cousin, how did he fare?”
“He came in third,” Anna said. “I beat them all.”
“You won?” Arissa asked. “But how—
Just then a dark-haired girl of fifteen bounced into the room from the dressing area wearing a beautiful deep-blue silk dress. It fit her like a glove, and she giggled as she twirled toward the ladies. Anna was a little jealous of how she filled the top out.
“Arissa, look!” she said. “I told you I could pull it off.” She curtsied before the girls. She frowned at Arissa’s wide-eyed stare and turned to Anna. “Oh, Your Highness,” she said bowing. Her face drained of color.
It was Frances, Anna’s maid, wearing the dress Anna was supposed to wear that evening. Anna’s blood boiled. These ladies, especially Arissa, never missed a c
hance to mock and stab Anna in the back, but Frances was her maid and supposed to be on her side. Anna had thought Frances was her friend, but here she was playing dress up with the court’s biggest snob and gossip, Arissa.
“I’m so sorry, Your Highness. I was trying it on to see if I fixed the top right,” she whispered. “I’ll bring it right down to your room.”
Anna gritted her teeth. Frances’s chest bulged out of the top as she bowed. She had indeed made it smaller to fit Anna’s more modest bust line.
“Don’t bother, Frances. You can wear it yourself, burn it, or cut it up into tiny, little bits and throw it into the river for all I care.” Or cram it down Arissa’s throat.
Anna turned on her heel and stormed out. She expected Frances to come running after her, but no footsteps came. She only heard echoes of harsh whispers and more giggles. Deep down, she knew she could go toe-to-toe with Arissa or any of the foolish girls of the court. But her heart thundered for more than tight dresses and rouge.
She stomped toward her room. Frances could well go in my place. If she did, Anna would seriously consider having her whipped. Someone needed to be. It will probably be me.
She kicked open her room’s heavy door and was hit with the scent of lavender and jasmine. Mary was waiting for her with a steaming pot of the herbs over the fire. How did she always know what she needed? Mary took one look at Anna and instructed a servant girl, Lacy, to help prepare Anna a hot, scented bath. While they worked, Anna stared out the window, across the river, toward the races. She jerked her fingers through the knots in her hair. She wanted to pull it out.
“It’s ready. It’ll ease your tight muscles, my dear,” Mary said.
“Thank you. You may go now. You, too, Lacy.” She did appreciate her nurse, but she couldn’t stand to look anyone in the eye right now. Frustration pulsed through her with every heartbeat. She had dreamed for months about this day. Her father ought to have been proud his daughter had ridden such a race. She should be celebrating at the day-long carnival, laughing with everyone tonight at the party, and dancing with noble men of all the surrounding kingdoms.
Who would Prince Lewis dance with tonight? Would he sulk after his horse’s loss, or would his attention be on the ladies?
Maybe this would be a chance for Anna’s sister, Saira, to shine. She was four years older than Anna, twenty years old this month, and recently returned from studying abroad. She was now a trained diplomat, elegant and graceful. Everything Anna wasn’t. Many were hoping for a proposal soon—perhaps even tonight.
I’ll probably miss it.
She’d also heard the terrible rumors whispered in the halls that Arissa had arrived months ago as a potential bride for Stefan. Surely she could trust him to shut down that nonsense.
Marriage was the only way it seemed Anna would have any value in her father’s eyes. Someday she knew a wealthy lord or prince would come along, and she would need to marry for the betterment of Sunderland. Anna knew for her it would not be about love, but at least it would be a change from the confinement of Karfin. The northern prince would have at least been someone easy to live with. He was kind, noble, sociable and loved quality horses.
Thankfully, her father still believed Saira should be married first. So Anna wouldn’t have to worry about any serious suitors at the party. Of course, now she wouldn’t be worrying about the party at all.
Anna turned from the window. Her stunt today probably disqualified her from a future match with Lewis. She didn’t care.
Anna undressed and slipped into the hot water. The light, sweet scent of lavender filled her nose and weaved its relaxing spell into her mind. Her nerves had kept her awake most of the previous night.
She closed her eyes and escaped back to the race. She could feel Farley’s pounding hooves underneath her again, but far away and softer, almost as if he were flying, not running on sod. Farley won the race. The crowd roared. She scanned the crowd, searching and searching, only to find Seamus’s deep brown eyes scolding her. Her chin hit her chest, and she started awake as her mouth slid under the water.
Great. So much for relaxation. I had to think of him.
The water felt tepid. She climbed out of the tub and dried by the fire. Restless, she dressed and walked through the empty castle, stopping below a portrait of her mother smiling. Adelaide. Would she still be smiling if she were here now? Anna studied her mother’s golden hair, large, blue eyes, and creamy skin. She reached up and touched her mother’s cold, silent hand resting on her lap.
One glance at the mirror told Anna she was looking more like her mother every day. As queen, her mother had been adored by commoner and nobility alike. After her death, the king passed into a deep depression, emerging, some had said, only as Anna grew in age and resemblance to her mother. Yet, every year Anna grew older, the king grew more protective. Anna knew he wanted Adelaide back, but she could never replace her mother.
Anna withdrew her hand from the portrait and walked to the window. Without a queen the ladies of the court ran unchecked. Her mother would have never let the likes of Arissa to strut around the castle, conniving and backstabbing whomever she pleased.
A fresh breeze filled the dark castle with the scent of summer, laced with sweet white clover and blooming apple trees in the garden. Beyond that were the fields. She wished she could gallop Farley through those fields and never look back.
Anna headed back to her room through the darkening hallways. Something tugged her. She stopped at the doorway to the king’s chapel. It was an ornate room designed for the time when noblemen and peasants alike worshipped the Most High. The finest polished white stone covered the walls and floor. Behind the altar were three tempered glass windows, embedded with colorful gems. The arched roof sparkled with the precious stones as light from the altar flame flickered. Anna’s feet sank into the thick, crimson rug as she padded toward the front. Long ago, at least 200 people would crowd into this room. Now it was almost always empty.
She sat in the cushioned pew and stared at the jeweled altar, dedicated to the Most High. Centuries ago, many of the peoples around Sunderland had worshipped other gods. They sacrificed to them and begged for their protection and power. But Sunderland had always been different. Long ago, one man had decided there had to be a god above all the rest. He led his people here and built his kingdom on the white rock. On the altar burned an oil lamp—one that never had to be replenished for the Most High Himself kept it burning, so they said. Anna sometimes wondered if the priest and priestess didn’t just refill the oil.
Priest Tobias shuffled in and started when he saw her.
“I’m sorry to disturb you. I can leave.” Anna stood. The room was primarily for her father.
“No, please stay, child. I suppose I should have been expecting you. Sit down.”
“Expecting me?”
“I’ve been having dreams, visions, actually.” He rubbed his chin. “They may be nothing, yet here you are.”
“Do they concern me?” Anna suppressed a shudder.
“Yes, and no. Difficult to discern.” He shook his head and brushed his hand through the air. “But don’t let an old man worry you. What troubles you, Your Highness?”
“I might as well tell you everything before you hear it from the vicious gossips in court.” The day’s events spilled from her lips while the old priest patiently listened. He raised his eyebrows.
“You have your father’s courage,” he said.
“Courage? Father’s not courageous. He gave up living after Mother died.”
“Years ago he was brave, so young, but with the strongest of character—always knew what was right—though these last years he has become a shadow of his former self. We were fighting then, fighting for our freedom to worship as we chose. If other kingdoms conquered us, we would have had to accept their gods.”
Anna squinted at him.
“Over time I think your father fought for the wrong reason. The love of a woman drove him. She was devoted to the Most High. He
was devoted to her.”
“And now she’s gone.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean we give up the fight.”
“But we are at peace.”
He got up and paced in front of the altar, touching the lamp holding the flame. It flickered. “We never give up fighting the lesser gods. The powers of evil.”
“But they’re not real. The other gods aren’t real. Are they? They are just silly statues of stone and wood with jeweled eyes.”
The flame flickered higher.
“No, Anna. They are real and want dominion.”
“Well, they won’t have it here. We’ve always worshipped the Most High.”
“Have we? We are a kingdom fallen asleep. I sense evil stirring toward us, and in my dreams, you are there, Anna. It swirls about you. I fear you are in danger. Please. Be careful.”
Anna got up and shook off a chill. So much for finding comfort here.
“I-I should return to my room.”
Anna bolted out of the chapel. She was surprised to see the sun had set. Anna wasn’t used to the eerie stillness of the castle. She would be alone tonight.
She returned to her room and locked the door. Mary knocked with dinner not long after—not much more than bread, cheese and jam. All the best food had been sent to the feast. Anna nibbled at it and climbed into bed. Thoughts of Farley stretching his head out and crossing the finish line spun in her mind. She rolled over into a patch of moonlight. It seemed unusually bright. She rose to close the shutters, but instead leaned against the window sill. A cool breeze ruffled her hair. She tucked a wayward piece behind her ear. In the distance, beyond the village, the horizon held a faint glow. The tents were lit up with lanterns. The people would dance most of the night out there. Her stomach twisted at the thought of facing her father the next day. She bit her lip and glanced at the river rippling three stories below. Yes, much too far to jump.
Chapter 3
Anna opened her eyes a few moments before Mary knocked.
Gems of Fire: A Young Adult Fantasy Page 2
