Lost Prince

by M. A. Roth

  “Thank you,” Mirium says before taking a drink.

  “How will Morrick find us now?” I ask the question that has bothered me since leaving the small village. As much as I make myself believe I don’t care, deep down emotions stir, ones that I don’t want to entertain or sift through… they are easier to ignore.

  Mirium hands me my water, and I take a deep gulp.

  “He will find us. We always have a back-up plan. When he sees we are not in Gaul, he will come here.”

  I glance around at here. There isn’t much shelter on the mountainside. I look up to see Tristan and Alana waiting patiently above us, sitting on small rocks. Their words reach me as they talk about fighting tactics, Alana soaks up all the information like a sponge.

  We don’t have long more to trek before we come to a sheltered area; a large jutting rock out of the mountainside acts as a roof over our small camp.

  It’s nice to take the bag off my shoulders. I try to catch Tristan’s eye but he’s arranging a fire. My mind won’t leave the men I killed in Gaul, and I wonder what Tristan thinks of me now. We all sit down, exhaustion from lack of sleep the night before and the hours of walking on unstable ground, pulls at me. We sit eating fresh bread with dried meat that Tristan had got in Gaul. I take my rations and eat the tasteless food.

  Once the food is gone, Tristan hands us a roll of new clothing and a cloak. I smile with the thoughts of getting out of these sweaty clothes. I try to catch Tristan’s eye but once again he won’t meet my gaze. I leave our small camp to find a secluded place to change. I let my eyes adjust to the dark.

  “Don’t go far.” Tristan’s voice is close to me.

  I glance at him over my shoulder. “I won’t.” His eyes clash with mine and he breaks our contact with a nod.

  My elation at getting changed into fresh clothes is short lived as my mind goes straight back to Gaul. Goosebumps rise all over my skin with awe at how I had controlled the weather. I stop walking when I’m far enough away from the camp to have some privacy.

  I strip off and put on my clean black clothes and re-laced my boots, feeling a little fresher.

  As I gather up all my dirty clothes and bunch them under my arm, a hand covers my mouth, cutting off a scream that starts to claw its way up my throat. I attempt to turn but my back is forced against the jagged mountainside.

  “Don’t make a noise, princess.” Carew’s looming form towers over me.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  SARAJANE

  I had forgotten how big Carew was, as I had only encountered him once when he had saved me from the exiles. His dark eyes stay focused on my face, his large hand still covers my mouth.

  Before leaving Aquaterra, I had found out that Carew had killed his parents; his punishment meant that he was exiled to the mountains. He had left an adorable little sister behind called Mei. She was only five.

  “Where are you traveling to?” he asks, before slowly removing his hand from my mouth. His large fingers move down my neck where they rest. I know if I yell for help, he could snap my neck in a second.

  “Humus,” I reply.

  “Why?” he asks his fingers tighten around my throat, the pressure isn’t much but the threat is there in his touch.

  What will he do when he gets all his answers? This is the moment I should play my trump card.

  “Mei really misses you, Carew.”

  His hard face grows slack for a moment before anger replaces the shock. His fist smashes into the wall beside my head. I bite the inside of my jaw to hold down the scream that wants release.

  “Why?” he snarls close to my face.

  I look at his fist still curled up beside me, blood trickles down the wall.

  “To train me how to use my powers.” My voice wavers.

  “Sarajane, I told you not to go far.” Tristan’s voice is close but I can’t take my eyes off Carew, as he backs into the shadows, and then he is gone.

  “Sarajane!” Tristan comes into view and glances around the space his body is on full guard. “Was someone here?”

  I clear my throat and try to settle my racing heart. “No. No. why?”

  Tristan takes a step closer to me and I busy myself by gathering my clothes that had fallen on the ground; my hands shake uncontrollably. I’m ready to leave, but Tristan stands in my way.

  “When you threw your powers at me the other day, when we were training, I had a very strong compulsion to pull them from you. It took every ounce of my willpower not to.”

  I look up at him, shocked. “But it was only wind.”

  He nods. “Yes, if you had thrown it at my side or back, I would have deflected it, but you threw it in my line of power so that I could grab it, Sarajane. I could have left you powerless.”

  The realization of what that meant sinks in. No wonder he had been so angry. “Sorry, I didn’t think.”

  He studies me for a second. “Who was here?” he asks again.

  He had been honest with me so I needed to be honest with him about Carew, but I didn’t know why I always felt the need to protect Carew. He carried far too much sadness on his shoulders to be a villain.

  “Remember in Aquaterra when I left to save my sister?”

  Tristan’s face becomes stoic at the memory. “Yes.”

  This is going good. “Well, I was attacked by exiles.”

  Tristan moves closer to me and his mouth opens.

  I cut him off. “I was fine because… Carew saved me.”

  Tristan’s jaw tightens and violence floods his moss green eyes. “And that was who was here just now. Carew?” He fights to control the anger in his voice but fails.

  I nod, afraid to say anything else as my hands clutch the clothes to my chest.

  Tristan’s eyes shot around us—he’s on full alert. “If I hadn’t questioned you, would you have told me?”

  I want to be honest with him. “No.”

  Tristan stands still, breathing heavily. “Did he touch you?” His words are laced with anger.

  “No,” I say and look away from his angry eyes.

  “Lux!” Tristan says under his breath and a small ball of fire hovers above his hand. The light blinds me and I keep my eyes closed to shield them as Tristan’s long finger runs along my face. I slowly open my eyes, but he’s staring over my shoulder. I follow where he is looking. Carew’s blood stains the wall.

  “Where are you bleeding? I will kill him.”

  “That’s not my blood, it’s his.” I step away from Tristan.

  “Sarajane…” His face looks tormented, making me feel guilty. “Come on, we better get back.”

  I follow his light until Mirium and Alana come into view. “We need to move. Carew was here,” Tristan informs Mirium. His voice shows no emotion of what just happened.

  Mirium white eyebrows rise in surprise. “Is he still alive?” he asks.

  Tristan throws a look my way. “Yes, I didn’t get there in time. He was talking to Sarajane.”

  “Ah,” Mirium says, as if that explained everything. Mirium turns his full attention towards me. “And what did you and Carew talk about?”

  I tighten my hold further on my clothes. “He just wanted to know where we were going and why?”

  A muscle tenses in Tristan’s jaw. “And you told him,” he accuses me in a snarl.

  I answer Mirium. “Yes, I said we were going to Humus.”

  Mirium studies my face. “And he did not harm you.”

  “No,” I say, letting out a heavy breath. “No, not one hair on my head.” I say, for Tristan’s sake.

  Then I turn away, not bothering to look at Tristan. We climb into our bedrolls and I’m very aware of the set up. I’m wedged in-between Alana and Tristan.

  Tristan’s back is to me and I want to reach out and touch him, but his anger seems to vibrate all around him. Mirium takes first watch and exhaustion soon pulls me under.

  ***

  We pack the next morning to move to the final place where we will meet up with Morrick, Legis and K
iar. Before we leave, Mirium touches my arm.

  “Go on ahead, we will catch up.” His soft words are spoken to Alana and Tristan who obey Mirium. Tristan’s eyes linger on me and I drop his gaze.

  “Sometimes things are not as they may seem at first,” he says.

  I glance up at Mirium. He takes my chin gently in his hands, his kind gray eyes holding mine. “Always follow your instincts, Sarajane. They will never fail you.”

  Mirium is a five hundred-year-old oracle, so when he gives advice or cryptic messages, I will always listen to him.

  We walk after Alana and Tristan. Mirium walks with the help of a white staff, that I never seem him without. His white long beard is stark against the red heavy cloak that flows around him.

  “Why did you protect Carew?” he asks, knocking me off balance a little. Mirium chuckles before reaching out and helping me find my balance.

  “I didn’t have a vision. It is written on your face.”

  I relax a bit. “I don’t know. I just see so much goodness in him… and he saved my life. He had never met me before, yet he saved me.”

  “You’re right, there is good in him… but also evil.”

  “I will remember that, Mirium,” I say, just as we reach the others. Tristan’s face is set in stone and Alana looks like she would rather be anywhere else. No one speaks not even when we stop for several short breaks.

  We make it to our meeting place after hours of walking. It takes us longer than expected, as we move slowly through the dark. When we reach the ledge, we all lie on our bellies and take in Humus.

  The city is not what I expected; it’s encircled by a stone wall that is the width of a road and no one could scale its height nor its perfectly level surface. That seems to be the purpose. There are four ways into Humus, but each gateway is heavily guarded, and if you get past the first wall, and all the guards, there is a second wall a half- mile in. The second wall has two gateways in or out of the city that are also guarded. Beyond the second is the city which looks crammed together with buildings of all different sizes. The oddest thing about Humus is the whole inner city is covered in a net-like fabric.

  “How do we get in?” I whisper to Mirium, but he seems distracted for a moment.

  “That is not my worry. They are.” He points to clusters of men inside the first wall. They are all dressed in black uniforms and they have set up camps everywhere.

  “Who are they?” I ask, feeling grim about the prospect of ever getting inside Humus.

  “They are Saskians, but why they are here I do not know.” Mirium moves away from the ledge of the mountain. “But we will find out soon.”

  I still lie there and study the men on the gates. They also wear black uniforms.

  Alana crawls over beside me as Tristan rises and joins Mirium.

  “I think the guards are Saskian, too,” I say to Alana.

  “They are Saskian.” She shakes her head in bewilderment. “I can’t believe they have taken control of the first wall. No one has ever broken Humus’s walls before.”

  I look at the great walls again and can understand how no one had ever gotten past it.

  The weakness was in the gates. “How many men would be at each gate?”

  Alana looks at me her brows rising in surprise. “You’re right.” She rolls away from the ledge.

  I follow her. “What do you mean, I’m right?”

  She doesn’t answer me. “Mirium, what would have happened that the Saskians got past the gates?” Alana asks.

  “I have being thinking that myself. Something must have happened on the inside to draw them away from the gates… but what I do not know.”

  Alana nods before reaching inside her knapsack and taking a loaf of bread out. She shares it between the four of us. It is getting cold, and we can’t light a fire in case we are spotted. I get as comfortable as possible, using my bedroll as a pillow, I lay it against a boulder, while wrapping my cloak tightly around my body to keep as much of the cold out as possible.

  After a while, I doze off.

  Voices wake me from my light sleep. Legis, Kiar and Morrick have joined us. My face breaks into a smile at the sight of Kiar, but it slowly dissolves from my face as he doesn’t return it. His eyes shine with hatred.

  Morrick makes his way over to me when he sees I am awake. He cuts off Kiar from my line of vision. “Are you alright?” he asks. Even though Morrick is my biological father, I still don’t look at him as a father figure. John had raised me in the mortal world and I was led to believe that he was my dad. John died because of me; a cruel game the queen had played to hurt me for the death of her son, Clive. I hadn’t killed Clive, but he had died by an arrow through his neck, shot by Morrick to stop him from killing me. So in around-about way, the queen felt I was responsible, and killed John to get me back. She couldn’t physically kill me herself, as she had sworn an oath that she would never hurt me, and once you make an oath in Saskia, you couldn’t break it.

  “I’m fine, Morrick,” I say and start to roll up my bedroll to give my hands something to do. His gray eyes linger on me. That is one thing I have inherited from him–my eye color.

  “I heard about Carew,” he says, still standing there, I can already hear the disapproval in his voice.

  “Yes,” I say, and put my bedroll under my arm before meeting his eyes.

  “Sarajane, he is not a person you can trust; do you know how dangerous he is?” Morrick doesn’t look angry… just tired of trying to communicate with me, but I just couldn’t give him anything back.

  “Yes, I do, Morrick.”

  He turns to Mirium, with a look of defeat on his face. Kiar is talking to Alana and I can see the ghost of an old smile on his lips. It makes me feel sad; I miss him so much.

  Kiar and Neve were the life and soul of our little group, always bantering on and cheering each other. Since Neve’s death, Kiar just hates the world… and me most of all.

  I join the others as they speculate about what might be going on in Humus.

  “Morrick, you are the King. Couldn’t you go down and see what is going on?” I say to him.

  “There could be an ambush waiting for me before I even reach my men.”

  He’s right, but it seems pointless to just sit here, and it’s really dark, so we had cover if we moved down the mountain side.

  “Tonight we sleep and we will see what daylight brings,” Morrick says, making his words the final ones. “We rest for the night.”

  ***

  The next day, Morrick, Tristan and the others talk about getting into Humus, while Alana and I practice fighting.

  We move a bit away from the others. After an hour or so, I can see Alana is distracted.

  “Go to him,” I say.

  She blushes. “Are you sure?”

  I roll my eyes. “Yes.”

  Alana smiles and leaves her sword, racing back to the others. She missed Kiar so much; I can see the desire on her face. I just hope she can pull him away from the others.

  In Saskia, if you are matched by the King and Queen, you can’t take a lover. It’s so stupid but everyone seems to abide by it. Well, not everyone. I think of me and Tristan as I stroll off, messing with the two wooden swords, practicing swinging them like you would see a fire juggler do, only every few feet I let one fall, pick it back up and start again. I wonder how much longer Tristan will stay mad at me. He is so hard to figure out. If we had met under different circumstances, maybe it would be easier.

  But only good things are worth fighting for, so Mirium told me once; he was always there to listen to me and give me advice.

  My thoughts cease as I stumble on soft ground. I stop juggling and look down, confused, as the soil that shouldn’t be there under my feet gives way and gravity disappears, yanking me down a large pitch black hole that seems endless. My hands still clutch onto the two wooden swords. I dig them into the side of the tunnel. The sudden jolt nearly rips my arms from their sockets. A cry leaves my throat but I manage to hang on.

/>   I look above me; the light at the top looks like a dot. How far had I fallen? My breath comes out ragged, and I cough as dust and debris particles fill the air. I look below my dangling feet but can’t see anything… only darkness. My hands are slick with sweat and I can’t make out anything around me. Swinging my legs to the left, I try to find an indentation to stand on, but my legs bash against the stone. Exhaustion makes my body go still as I hang onto the wooden swords. The dot of light above me blinks out, then reappears. My heart starts to race. Thank God, someone must be up there.

  “Help!” I yell until my throat is raw and dry, but no one responds. “Help, please help me. Down here!” I scream weakly. But there is no answer. It’s okay, someone will come. Don’t panic, I tell myself.

  After what feels like hours of hanging on for dear life my arms tremble with exhaustion, sweat coats my body and my eyes are half-closed in concentration. I can feel my hands starting to slip. I try to tighten my grip around the swords but my hands feel numb and they slowly slide away.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  SARAJANE

  There is nothing I can do as the air whizzes past me. Panic fuels my body. I reach out with my hands blindly, trying to grab onto the wall. The stone rips into my flesh and wetness fills my palms. My pulse drums in my neck, the air rips at my hair and clothes… I pull my hands in just as my feet sink into something cold, and then water covers my head. The shock makes my eyes shoot open. The water is turning red around me… I soon realize it’s from my hands.

  A movement in the water causes a wave to come rushing toward me. Whatever is behind it is huge. I only catch flashes of silver scales, teeth, and black eyes with yellow slits. I frantically try to swim out of its way, but the more I flap, the more blood fills my vision.

  It collides with me, sending me up onto the bank of the chamber along with a crashing wave of water. It takes me a few moments to come fully around and I start to gag, bringing up lots of water.