A Tiara of Emerald Thorns

by R Cavanaugh

  “James, I can see where you are going with this and—”

  “Well there were seven sons that followed Nicholas Heartington I, and they ended with Nicholas V, for there was John, Stephen, and George in that line of boys. Nicholas V married Diane, and they had a little girl. This little girl was pale, like all of the Heartingtons, with green eyes that when she was calm, were like a calm ocean, but when upset were like electricity. The feature that surprised many, however, was her hair. For it was the same night-shaming black that Jemma Heartington had possessed. The proud parents decided that since she was meant to wear a tiara of thorns, there was no other name that would ever fit her but one. They named her Rose.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes,” James said, “you. Now understand that your birth was so celebrated that the king would have to be stupid not to notice that something was going on. He sent Exotius and another man, whom we know very little about, to find the source of celebration, and what Exotius found was the old woman, Jasmine Traymeda. She was a bystander in all of this, so she very freely told Exotius of the prophecy that was made many years previous. Exotius told the king, and Igneous told Exotius and the other man to find and kill you and your family.”

  “You’re not serious.”

  “They went to your home, and while they found your mother and killed her, your father had already left for the planet of Earth with you in tow. Exotius and his counterpart were not fools, and they valued their lives as much as the next person. But it was Exotius who would have the most to lose if he failed. For you see, he was immortal, along with the king, but it did not mean that he couldn’t be killed. He knew their immortality did not protect them from disease or fatal injury. Deciding that you probably would never be heard from again, he and the other man told the king that you and the rest of your family were dead and that he shouldn’t worry.”

  “They lied?” Rose asked, shocked that he would risk his life on the fact that someone wouldn’t find her. “Wasn’t that risky?”

  “Yeah,” James replied, “but they didn’t know about the secret organization of RTET: Rose and the Tiara of Emerald Thorns. My family has been part of it since it was started twenty-one years ago. It was the job of the members of this organization to relocate you when you were of age and return you to your home. It was also our job to aid you in any way possible and to help you realize who you were.

  “As the years passed, we tried to figure out where the tiara might be hiding, where the best places to go first were. We also started a training organization that took ordinary people and made them into high-class warriors. We call ourselves the Thorns, and we stand for true justice and not what people have been forced to abide by and believe to be justice.”

  “So how can I even begin to help these people?” Rose asked, looking very worried now. “If you haven’t noticed, I am accustomed to Earth traditions, and I have always been a follower. Where and when would I begin to search for the tiara, and how am I to defend myself?” she added, each word getting higher in pitch and coming out faster. She began to look around for answers. “I mean, you are trained to fight and protect, and here I am supposed to lead you. That would even sound ridiculous to a small child. James, what you have said, while making me feel honored, is completely freaking me out!”

  “Rose, here is how it is going to work.” James said in a soothing voice, “Before we go and look for the tiara, you will meet the members of both RTET and Thorns. We will fill you in on what we know and update you on the goings-on in the kingdom. Then we will discuss with you the ideas of where we might find the Tiara of Emerald Thorns.”

  “James, I think you’re missing the point!” Rose said, now panicking, “I can’t defend myself!”

  “Rose,” he whispered, “you think that we haven’t figured on you being in this position?” Rose thought about that for a minute before uttering a no.

  “Rose, you are going to be trained in the art of sword fighting.” He said excitedly, “You will be taught the skills of archery, strife, and accuracy. Through Thorns you will learn how to act while thinking very quickly, how to be able to change your plans at second’s notice and still have a good one. Finally, you will go into the Forest of Promise, and an animal will choose you as its equal. Once your equal has chosen you, a blade to match your very personality will be crafted by the best sword smith on the planet. Your armor will be made to match the color of your animal, and armor for your animal will bear a crest that is befitting for the both of you.”

  Rose thought about all of this for a moment. It was a lot to expect of someone who, up until a few hours ago, didn’t know her whole story. She thought about what her mother might have been like and why, if she had done something so honorable, her father didn’t tell her. It was as she was hearing this very thought in her mind that she decided there was only one thing left to do. “James, when do I start this mad affair?”

  “We’ll get ready to head to headquarters immediately,” James replied excitedly, and he turned around and left the room.

  Rose got up off of the bed, and after stretching she walked over to a painting that was so realistic, she could have reached into it and grabbed the tiara. There then came the shattering of glass from somewhere down the hallway. James and two other people, a young man and a young woman, came running into her room, locking the door behind themselves. James had a very hurt and sad look in his eyes. The other two, however, were getting a secret passageway open. Before she could question what was happening, and barely having time to grab the painting she was staring at, she was whisked into the cold and unwelcoming passageway. It was just before the door was closed that she saw a man looking through the window. He had charcoal-black hair with strips of red and orange alternating through it.

  Chapter 5

  Exotius’s Discovery

  Tungston Manor

  It was foolish, and absolutely pointless, that someone would try to stop him from entering their house. Neil Tungston now lay dead on his own entranceway floor, with a blade mark right through his gut.

  “Foolish old man.” Exotius said with disgust etched through his voice as he looked at Neil. “Search the place. They have to be in here somewhere. Whoever you find, bring them to me immediately.” He watched as his men scattered. As soon as he was alone, he began to head toward the end of the house that he knew held a room with many a famous painting. The men that he now had searching the house were the very men that had failed him a night ago. That was all part of the plan; they would be in the house while he conducted the last part of his plan.

  As he walked past sculptures and suits of armor bearing the crests of many past Tungstons, he watched as the art motifs changed. There were many different types of paintings pertaining to and portraying one individual. There were twenty-one in all, and they showed the transformation of a little girl growing into a woman. The last three were much more detailed, as if the artist had a little more to go on than perhaps an idea. It was as he passed the last one that he noticed that she was dressed like a normal Aquamarinian, except for what was on her feet. She seemed to be wearing a pair of black boots more commonly found on the planet Earth. These pictures reminded him, unfortunately, of the woman he had seen a night ago.

  “I wonder,” Exotius said to himself as he took a final glance at the last painting before entering the room at the end of the hallway. “Ah, yes,” he said aloud. This was indeed the room he had been looking for.

  “What do we have here?” He walked over to a spot on the wall where there was a twelve-by-fourteen rectangular space of wall that was a different color from everywhere else. There had definitely been something here. It was as he was standing there that it struck him that this room was portraying the story of the Tiara of Emerald Thorns.

  “The king will want to know about this, he said.” And about how defiant Neil Tungston had been, refusing to tell him where his son went or to even let Exotius into the house, for
that matter. It was as he was thinking about the king’s response that he caught sight of the panoramic panting spanning the length of the room. As he walked toward it, his heart’s pace began to quicken as he spotted what was at the end of the storytelling painting. There she was, the young woman in the hall, only she was twenty-one years younger when he had been sent to kill her; but he never got the chance to. There sat Rose.

  “Well, that would explain why he wouldn’t let me in, that treasonous, treacherous man.” he said aloud. Then, he thought hotly, he would now have to explain this. This was also a problem, as he was sure that the young woman in the hall was the young woman that had entered the planet one night previous. I’d best take this with me, he thought, and with considerable ease he cut out the panoramic and rolled it up.

  “Excuse me, sir,” came a voice from behind him. He turned around slowly to face his best man holding out something rather strange. It was like a very small painting of the young woman in the hall, but it wasn’t made of paint. “I found this in the bedroom of young James Tungston. It was hidden, being used as a bookmark.” Exotius handed the rolled-up panoramic to the man and took the strange panting. He turned the strange painting over and saw the date: June 8, 1998. As Aquamarine kept a different calendar than Earth, it was hard to tell how old the thing was.

  “Thank you,” Exotius said with a touch of insignificance in his voice, “you may go and tell the others we discussed to leave the building. Tell them that a message is to be sent to the rest of the disloyal scum on this planet.” As his soldier left the room, Exotius gave the small painting one last venomous look before putting it in his pocket and thinking up a story as to how the young woman had come to survive. He walked back down the hall and reentered the receiving hall. The old man lying dead on the floor never got to tell his side of the story. But what did he care? This man had been given a chance. Yet it was still a shame; the family was always well respected—that is, up until this point.

  “Ah, well,” Exotius sighed as he closed and barred the doors behind him, even though most of his men were still inside along with all of the male servants, for the king had no use for them. “Burn it down.” The last part of the plan was to be followed without question. Some of the women started crying, and there were some looks of confusion about the order he was giving.

  “Sir,” said one of the men, “some of our men are still in there.”

  “Do as you’re told before—”

  “Sir, do you really thin—” Exotius grabbed hold of the man’s neck after reopening the door, and he flung the man through it. The order, his order, was to be followed without question.

  “If you had been smart, you wouldn’t have questioned my authority,” Exotius said with an evil glare in his eye. “But since you are not, you get to die along with the men you seem to have such a divine affection for.” As he said this, he slammed the door, ordering the rest of the men who were not holding prisoners to bar the door.

  “Now the rest of you, burn it down.” As he said this, one of the women got loose, but only for a second. “And I’ll take her with me.”

  As they mounted their horses, the smell of the burning building filled the air and the nostrils of everyone who was within a hundred meters of the spot. Exotius smiled at the young woman that was sitting behind him. She was crying silently and avoiding his gaze as he and his men picked up speed heading back toward the city of Decorus Regnum Corset and Heartington Castle, where he would give the king his update on the real problems in his kingdom and tell him of the mistake that was made twenty-one years ago.

  It was as this thought passed through his mind that the skies finally unleashed their fury, showering them with rain, dazzling their eyes with lightning, and ramming their eardrums with thunder. The first sign, Exotius thought, that things were heading in a direction that King Igneous would obviously be displeased with.

  As he reached the end of the drive, he decided to alter his course.

  “There will be a change in plans,” he said as the men looked up at him with looks of terror in their eyes, fearing that they would be thrown into the inferno as well. “We will be going to Draughtningr Manor to meet the king and to tell him of our discovery.”

  The looks of relief were everywhere, and as they continued in the newly ordered direction, Exotius smiled to himself. They all knew who had disobeyed his orders on that night, and only the disobedient ones were the ones who died that day. He loved being in control; what he didn’t love was having to bring bad news to a king who was already in a mood that was less than good.

  Chapter 6

  Similar Circumstances

  Draughtningr Manor

  Draughtningr Manor was considered the most magnificent of all the manors on Aquamarine. The building itself was constructed out of granite that was inlaid with diamonds, in representation of the family stone. It was said to light up the heavens themselves when the sun hit the building just right, sparkling as though there was a chance that the sun would not return tomorrow.

  It was to this historic building that Igneous Stipes was heading. The road that led to the manor was long and winding, with huge trees that seemed to be as old as the planet itself. These great trees were so large that it would take three grown men to hug the base of each of their trunks. As he rode down this lane of trees, he was beginning to notice things that were missing, like simple sounds of the gardener working, or maids gossiping as they went about their work. As he got to the end of the lane and entered the courtyard where the main entrance lay, he noticed that the once very lively manor now seemed deserted and still.

  “Search the place,” Igneous said as he dismounted his horse, “but do it quietly, just in case there are people hiding in there somewhere.”

  “You heard the king,” said the captain in charge in his quietest voice, “get moving.”

  Igneous then entered through the main entryway. As he removed his riding gloves, he saw and knew right away that there was no chance that the Draughtningrs would be found here. The room was a disaster area, with papers scattered everywhere. People’s belongings were among the mess, and yet there was one thing that was not to be found.

  “Sir, there is no sign of human life in this building.” Igneous turned to face the captain as he spoke. “I have also noticed that all the activity logs for the last twenty-one years are missing, along with all of their jewelry and family heirlooms, including the famous Crystal Lion of Jerard.”

  This was fishy, and it was as he was thinking about this that there was a great commotion outdoors. He left the great hall and the mess that lay inside of it, and he went outside just in time to see Exotius heading into the courtyard. He saw that on the back of almost every soldier’s horse was a young woman. What had he done now? he thought angrily. He didn’t need new maids.

  “Exotius,” he called out, “where in heaven’s name did all of these women come from?” He knew that his voice alone would tell Exotius that he was not impressed. “I thought that I told you to go to Tungston Manor, not the maids convention!”

  “We did go to Tungston Manor,” said Exotius hotly. As if he felt his master was scolding him for a story that he had yet to explain. Then, after calming himself, he continued his report in a calmer tone. After telling the king of Neil Tungston’s treachery and of the twenty-one paintings depicting the young woman with black hair. Then after telling him everything, he waited for the two things that he believed were sure to come: a scolding for letting the last Heartington live and a demand to see the strange, miniature painting.

  “Exotius,” Igneous spoke very quietly, sinisterly even, “why did that little girl that I sent you and my brother to kill, survive?” It was a simple question, he thought, yet he knew that it would have a complicated answer. “After all, you said that she was nothing more than a small child and therefore a small problem. Didn’t you tell me, when you returned from that small house of Nicholas V and his wife,
Diane, that they were all dead, that no one had been spared the steel of your blade? Yet here we are, almost twenty-one years later, and that little problem has become a mite larger one. Do you disagree?” Igneous could tell that Exotius was contemplating how to explain the situation that he was now in. It was an extraordinary feeling to have as much power over a single individual like he did.

  “Your Majesty,” Exotius said, his head bent in shame, “I have failed you. Twenty-one years ago, you sent me to the house of the last Heartingtons. I found only the wife of Nicholas V. Nicholas had fled to what I now believe to be Earth with their daughter. I killed only the mother that night. I am sorry to have failed you in such a pathetic way.”

  “Your excuse for lying to me has yet to be presented.”

  “Your Majesty,” Exotius said in a sad and mournful tone, “it was the idea of your brother, Jonathan, to tell you that they were dead. I, on the other hand, wanted to tell you the truth and face the consequences, but your brother feared your wrath.”

  Well, thought the king, his brother would feel his wrath, a wrath that he had built over twenty-one years. His brother was going to have to answer to him, and his answer better be well thought out.

  “Exotius, I would like to have that strange painting that you spoke of.”

  Exotius handed the photo to the king and then went back to his position. The king observed it and while doing so was thinking up a plan.

  Turning to Exotius, he began to speak,

  “You and your best men are to find and capture that girl and James Tungston. You are then to bring them to me. Do you think that you are able enough to do that?” The look that he got was not only reassuring; it was a humiliated look that told him he had made his point.