Kingdom's Darkness (Gemstone Royals Book 2)

by Kelly A. Purcell

  The king took out a small blade and gently stripped the cloth covering from the canvas. When he turned to Drafer, he found him with his mouth agape and eyes wide with wonder. The king watched as the old scholar made his way towards the painting, tentatively he reached out and touched the textured drawing.

  “This is… amazing.”

  “You know who they are?”

  Drafer shrugged, still enthralled by the painting, “It is so life like.”

  The artist had managed to capture a snapshot of the soldier’s memory. They were viewing the painting as if looking up from a position beneath the creature. From there they could make out pointed fingers on a skinny arm reaching forward as if to claw the eyes out. Red soulless eyes were looking right at them, so realistic that one could almost be fooled into seeing one’s own image reflected in the terrifying pools.

  “That is definitely a man…” Drafer said, “but quite unlike any race I have encountered.”

  The man that the artist managed to capture, had the complexion of blood, marked with black swirls along his arms and bare chest. His hair was piled high atop his head in a braided mound, with both sides shaved clean. A sneer of pure cruelty was mounted on his narrow face, bearing pointed teeth behind lips highlighted by what looked like a beard of bones. The greenery of the forest was like a blur behind him. King Kalgary had never seen anything like it either, even he had been chilled when he first saw it.

  “So, you do not know?”

  Drafer frowned and leaned in closer, “wait a minute.”

  He reached out and traced his finger along a marking intricately painted onto the bare chest of the man.

  “This may not be very accurate,” Drafer said, “but if I had to compare this to anything, I would say it looks a lot like a symbol I have come upon before.”

  The king stepped forward, “what symbol?”

  Drafer straightened up, “on El’s name, this dare not be,” he said worriedly.

  “What? What is it?”

  “That symbol… it looks like… the mark of the Outlanders.”

  The king’s eyes widened, “No, can’t be,” he said.

  “I could be wrong but…”

  “Then you are wrong,” the king interjected, “those people… or creatures rather have been banished from the mainland for good reason. They have kept their boundaries for centuries, they thrive beyond the dark mist, there is nothing for them here.”

  Drafer looked thoughtful, “maybe there is for them now.”

  “Impossible, Aldor has kept them at bay for centuries, they fear the power we possess. We have upheld the ways of El…”

  “Have we? How can we know if he refuses to speak?”

  The king sighed “unless he has.”

  “I do not understand.”

  The king lowered his burly frame into a chair and reached up to pull on his grey braided beard.

  “There is a prophet in the city.”

  Drafer’s eyes widened, “and I am now hearing about it. What is his message? Is he true?”

  The king shrugged, “there is no way to tell for sure, for he has not shown himself to me. But… I am told that his message is one of destruction and displeasure.”

  “Do you believe he is true?”

  The king shrugged, “I once knew a prophet who told me that a true prophet is only concerned with the affairs of El over the protocol of the courts. A prophet goes only where El directs him to go, not where he is summoned. This man, is not a descendent of the bloodline of priests, I am sure of it, so I am unable to come to terms with him being a prophet. Yet… if you are right and our caravan was attacked by Outlanders here in Saharia, then maybe this prophet is true and I have lost favour in El’s sight.”

  Drafer pulled a chair next to him, “do not draw this conclusion your majesty. He will come when it is his time to come. If he is true then he is more likely to ignore your summons until he is directed to you. Be patient. In the meantime, we must focus on doubling our defences all over the kingdom and getting the Questers back here.”

  The king nodded, “you are right. Until we know more, we go on the defensive.”

  “Now, are you going to introduce me to this skilled artist?”

  The king chuckled, “I am sorry Drafer, you are my friend but… this am afraid is one of my best kept secrets.”

  Drafer chuckled, “Vizors are rare and most wanted. I would guard him too if I were you.”

  “Her,” the king corrected, “and yes, with my very life.”

  Chapter 9

  Drip. Drip. Drip.

  The sound of droplet meeting water echoed through the dark tunnel as the moist goo squished beneath his booted feet. It had the texture of tar and seemed to grow stiffer with each step he took. His grip on his sword tightened as he tried to see into the darkness around him. All he could see was the bright light at the end, beating like a heartbeat, like a breath.

  As he neared the light, hope started to surge in his heart and he started to move faster. Stomping through the gooey wetness towards it. He was sure his freedom waited in that light. He paused and frowned. Freedom. From what?

  He stopped and looked around, where was he? How did he get here?

  Then his eyes widened as a familiar voice echoed around him. It was the voice of the old prophet they had gotten the scrolls from for Jasper. The man who had left them all confused and afraid.

  “You,” the voice said, much like the way the old man had, his quivering voice just above a hoarse whisper.

  “The darkness hovers around you like a shroud. It looms like a predator lying in wait for its prey. The darkness longs for you… and you it.”

  “Longs for you… Longs for you…” the words echoed around him.

  “Shut up!” he screamed and turned towards the light.

  But as he did, the tar at his feet rose up like mini mountains then parted into the shape of hands. Frantically he tried to step away from them but they were all around him, blocking his view of the light. Then cold sticky hands latched onto his arms, his legs, his torso. He could feel them dragging him back from where he had come. Panicking he strained against their pull, baring his teeth in desperation.

  “Ahhhhh!”

  “Hey Des, wake up man”

  Deswald was shaken awake with a start. He almost jumped to his feet, his hand reaching for his sword.

  “Easy brother,” came Ben’s amused voice.

  He looked up into his best friend’s smiling eyes, then at this arm now held to his chest by a string tied around his neck.

  “What happened to your arm?” he asked, blinking rapidly. Still trying to shake off the chills from his dream.

  “Nothing. Walden says it’ll reduce the strain on my wound and make it more comfortable for me to travel.”

  Deswald frowned, reaching up to wipe the remaining sleepiness from his eyes, “travel? What do you mean?”

  “The commander is about to call a meeting. It seems like we might be moving out soon. Bad dream again huh?”

  He regretted telling Ben about his dreams. But after a few nights of camping with the light sleeper that Ben was, he had told him about his nightmares.

  “What time is it?” Deswald asked, ignoring his friend’s question, as got up and went to the window of their makeshift bunker. It was barely dawn.

  “Him and the other superiors were in a meeting earlier. Nyla overheard them talking about having to leave here soon.”

  He turned to look at Ben, “So you and Nyla are talking now?”

  Ben shook his head, “she shared that with the group of us.”

  Deswald sighed, “we both knew loving her was not going to be an easy task.”

  Ben chuckled dryly, “neither is loving a princess who is not really a princess. We must really covet torture.”

  Deswald grinned, “you can say that again.”

  “I heard about your rescue mission last night. It is all everyone is talking about, you even got us a dragon!”

  Deswald chuckled,
“I am glad we were able to help. But now we have to make the journey with a wounded Tyatarran and her worn out dragon.”

  “It doesn’t look worn out to me.”

  Deswald frowned, “what do you mean?”

  “It landed in the middle of the town square this morning almost in a frenzy. But that lady speaks dragon or something, she managed to calm it down. She says he may not walk all that well but he can definitely take flight.”

  “What about her?”

  Ben grinned mischievously, “about the same. They’re both hobbling around.”

  Deswald chuckled, “it’s good to hear that they are doing well. Let us head out and see what this is all about. If we are to make the journey back on foot, our best bet is in morning light. We have both seen those creatures move, if they were to attack us in darkness, we would have no chance.”

  Ben nodded, “but with a creature like that following us from above wouldn’t that give us away.”

  Deswald stood up, shaking the remaining weariness from his bones, “you’re right, but at this point we have no choice. Something is stirring, and I think these scrolls have a part to play in it,” he tapped the satchel with the items for Jasper, “we need to be ready for anything.”

  ✽✽✽

  Topaz leapt over the wall and landed in a crouched position, from there she perused her surroundings, before straightening up and pulling her hood over her head. She turned to head off in the direction of the town when she found that her movement was halted by a pleasant sound. Frowning, she turned around and followed the music. It led her around the walls of the King’s court to an abandoned pathway. Sitting on a stone, hunched over a stringed instrument was the young man she had met earlier today in the town. The song he played was sad, but captivating, so captivating that she found her booted feet, quietly making its way toward him. He looked up then and she froze. That awkward moment seemed suspended in time as he looked at her and she looked at him. Recognition finally flashed in his eyes.

  “It’s you,” he said softly, draping an arm over the instrument protectively.

  Topaz shrugged, “I see you found the place.”

  He nodded, “kind of. They did not let me in. What are you doing here? Were you seeing the king too?”

  Topaz made her way to him and leaned up against the wall facing him, “I usually hang out around here,” she replied.

  She pointed her chin at the instrument in his arms, “nice playing. Are you a musician as well?”

  He shrugged, “depends on who you ask?”

  “I am asking you?”

  He chuckled, “well in that case. I am… the best in fact.”

  Topaz bowed, “I am honoured to be in your presence,” she teased, a smirk playing on her lips.

  “The pleasure is mine… Tawnee.”

  Topaz winced, as the fake name she had given him hovered in the space between them. Should she tell him who she was? She wondered. But a part of her was enjoying the familiarity with which he engaged her.

  “I am sorry but I forgot your name,” she said.

  “That’s okay. I am especially good at remembering people’s names. It’s a gift. So, I do not hold it against you for not being so gifted.”

  Topaz gaped at him, amusement twinkling in her eyes, “you are really full of yourself, aren’t you?”

  The young man chuckled, “just trying to make something good come out of this disappointing day.”

  “Oh, but do not give up hope yet...”

  “Jahreed,” he said, “call me Jahreed.”

  “Ahhh yes, that is it. Jahreed, maybe I can help you.”

  “I do not see how.”

  “Let us just say that sneaking into places undetected is my gift.”

  Jahreed stood up from the stone, “I really do not think that sneaking into the king’s presence is the best way to get into his good graces.”

  “Okay then tell me what you need and maybe I can make it happen for you.”

  Jahreed frowned, “I do not see how.”

  “Well I do, that is why I am offering.”

  “Do you work here or something?”

  “Oh yes,” she replied, “way more than I should.”

  “Why would you help me though?”

  Topaz shrugged, “It is what I do,” she replied, “serving others makes me feel like…”

  “Like what?” he asked, a look of intrigue in his trusting eyes.

  “Like everyone else,” she said solemnly.

  “But why would anyone want to feel like everyone else.”

  Topaz realized at that point that she was setting up herself to be discovered, she had already said too much. She shrugged.

  “With the way you play, you will find out soon enough.”

  With that she turned and started to walk away.

  “Wait a minute!” he called, “you are leaving?’

  She turned around extended her arms, “clearly you are not interested in taking up my offer.”

  “Wait wait,” he ran toward her.

  “Look I wanted to see Princess Pearl about a wild beast that is loose in the forests of the pasture lands. It is terrorizing my flock and people have been complaining about missing animals. I wanted to get the princess to look into it, but I have been having problems getting an audience. I thought if…”

  “You went over her head and talked to the king it would get you a quicker response?” she finished for him, arching an eyebrow quizzically.

  He nodded.

  Topaz shook her head, “Thank El you have met me. How do you think the princess would have responded to you after you went over her head to her father about an issue in her territory?”

  Jahreed frowned, his wide-eyed look revealing that he was indeed clueless about the repercussions of what he wanted to do.

  “Royals have very fragile egos Jahreed, always remember that.”

  “Oh? Then I guess it is a good thing I was turned away today. Can you help me?”

  Topaz sighed, in pretend exasperation, “I know the princesses well,” she said, “let me see if I can get them to help you into princess Pearl’s good graces without getting the king involved. Will that work?”

  Jahreed grinned, “yes of course!”

  “Meet me back here tomorrow, same time,” with that she turned and walked away, a smirk forming on her lips at the fun she was having being this mysterious Tawnee character.

  Chapter 10

  The king leaned back on his throne and propped his chin on his hand as he waited for the next prisoner to be brought in. He hated passing judgement on wrong doers, not because he did not believe in justice but because he held a higher standard for the citizens of his kingdom. It grieved his heart when they broke the law.

  Justice Maron, whose duty was to stand beside him and provide counsel on matters of the law as he meted out judgement, bowed beside him and handed him the scroll with the charge. As he read it his brows furrowed deeply and he hesitated to pass it along to Topaz who sat to the side observing. Since she was a child, she had always had an interest in matters of the law, and now that she was eighteen, she was able to sit in with him during court sessions.

  This particular prisoner and the charge brought against him was one they had not encountered in years and it burned the king's stomach when he considered what it all meant. Justice Maron cleared his throat, waiting to carry the scroll over to the princess as he was required to. The king sighed and handed it to him. If his children were to lead in any capacity, they would need to have knowledge in all matters, even ones as unpleasant as this.

  He waved his sceptre, "bring him in," he commanded, his thunderous voice echoing in the closed room.

  Two guards entered the chamber of judgement with a dishevelled looking man between them. To the ordinary eyes he would look like nothing more than a common thief, but to the trained eyes of the king he was dressed in evil. He immediately knew that the charges brought against him were accurate. He could see the cruel mischief in his dark eyes and the darkness
seemed to radiate off of him. The accused man locked smouldering eyes with the king, a silent challenge. The king clenched his jaw, no one ever dared.

  Justice Maron stood upright and read out the charge to the rest of the court, "Ronald Aim of the refugee town, transferred for judgement by the order of Governor Hague. Charged with sorcery with intent to harm and profit, found in his possession were tools associated with the practice of dark magic."

  A court official stepped forward and placed a sack on the judgement table, it contained the objects found on Ronald Aim at the time of his capture. Governor Hague who was the representative for the refugee town had explained in his report that the man had been terrorizing the townspeople, spoiling crops and stirring up fear among them. They later found out that he had been using artefacts associated with dark magic.

  "How do you plead?" the king inquired.

  The man glared at him, “Liberated,” the man replied with a slimy smile.

  “If you believe that dark magic frees you, you are greatly fooled. Did you willingly make yourself a slave to the power of darkness, an act that goes against everything we stand for here in Aldor?”

  The man’s evil smirk widened as he levelled hateful eyes on the king. When he opened his mouth to speak a strange language escaped them instead of a response to the king’s question. King Kalgary’s eyes hardened in anger. The soldiers at his side dropped to their knees and doubled over onto the floor. The sorcerer’s tools on the evidence table started to rise into the air amidst the man’s chanting. King Kalgary shot to his feet and from the corner of his eyes he saw that Topaz was on her feet; her eyes frantic, even as the soldiers around her drew their swords.

  He raised his sceptre and slammed it down against the floor. A flash of light shot through the room and the levitating sack fell into a powerless heap onto the table. An ear-piercing shriek escaped the man as a sizzling sound emanated from the sack. The unique design of the king’s sceptre allowed for the powerful light stones to be set into it. This way every king would easily be able to access its power against evil.