Lost Prince

by M. A. Roth

  “He went missing two years ago. I’ve searched for him but…”

  I get it he is still missing.

  “No-one has ever been able to extract the liquid from the rose, though many have died trying. The gold dust in liquid form is so pure that one drop would kill a man. There is a way to extract it without it causing harm, but only Marcus knew how.”

  “How did he do it? You said you were here a few times; did he ever extract it in front of you?” I ask.

  “I never really bothered watching him; it always just sounded like he was talking to it.”

  Tristan moves back around to me and I take his hand in mine. “I’m sorry about your brother.” I do feel sorry that he had lost his whole family and now he and Morrick had fallen out because of me. “I’m sorry things have turned out this way, you know with you and Morrick.”

  Tristan pulls me into him. “You have nothing to be sorry about. It was my choice.” He holds my face. “If I had to give up all of Saskia for you, I would.”

  The fire and passion in his words makes my heart pound against my chest. I lick my lips, wanting nothing more than for him to kiss me. And he does with the same fire as he had shown in his words.

  “I love you so much,” he says.

  “I love you, too.”

  He studies my face for a moment before speaking again. “Why don’t you stay with me?”

  “You mean tonight?” I ask, feeling excited.

  “No. For as long as we are here,” he says.

  “What about Morrick? You heard him.”

  “He said no public display. We would be in my room.”

  My stomach quivers at the idea of Tristan and me in a room alone. “What, would we do in your room?”

  “Sleep.” Tristans grin has me smiling shyly and I can’t hold his intense gaze any longer. I want him, but I’m nervous.

  His fingers cup my chin dragging my gaze back up to him. He no longer wears a grin. “We really can just sleep.”

  I rise on the tip of my toes and plant a soft kiss on his lips. “Okay.”

  We leave the hills behind us with Tristan’s memories of his brother; it feels like we have closed a door on it for now.

  We walk in silence until Tristan stops at the barn and leads me inside. I roll my eyes. So much for our date. The barn is empty but rays of sun break in through cracks in the roof. Dust mites fill the air. Tristan removes his top, giving me a full few of his chiseled chest. Everything in me goes south. My pulse spikes as he turns to me with a smirk. “To entice you,” he says.

  I’m enticed, I’m transfixed on all his muscles that bunch together and move as he walks. “Exactly what are you enticing me to do?” I step closer to him and want to touch his touch but I keep my hands to myself.

  He moves into the circle. “Fight me. If you win, you can have your way with me.”

  “And if I lose?” I ask. My stomach dips and dives at this playful side to him.

  “Then I could have my way with you.”

  I laugh. Removing my cloak, and I enter the circle.

  “That’s a win-win situation,” I say and his smirk widens.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  SARAJANE

  I can’t think straight as Tristan bounces on his heels. All his muscles bunch together and it’s distracting to say the least. His face grows serious and it dampens some of the need that is growing inside me. I try to focus. All the training I have done will show, well, hopefully.

  Tristan dances around me, not striking, and I follow his rhythm, watching to see if there is a pattern. Then it dawns on me he is watching mine, too. I change quickly and strike with my left fist. He grabs it without much effort in his palm and pushes me away. He is the next to attack, a tip to the back of my head. “With force I could have knocked you out,” he says, dancing back and forth.

  I block a few and receive a few strikes, but Tristan puts no force in them, just explains each time what would happen if he did. After another hour, I’m drenched in sweat. I throw my hands in the air while trying to catch my breath.

  “You win,” I announce, hating myself for admitting defeat.

  Tristan scoops me up, startling me. “Then I shall claim my prize.”

  And he does, by capturing my mouth with his. I want so much more with Tristan but for now he seems happy with our kisses, so I am.

  ***

  It’s time for King Paulus to go on trial. The air in the room is heavy with tension. My mother clings to Morrick like her life depends on it. Only about twenty people are allowed to attend as the anger amongst the people is too much. An assassination could happen so easily. Marcella doesn’t agree, as her people have felt the wrath of King Paulus. So since he is captured on her territory, she feels she should serve the justice in her way.

  A list of charges that lasts a good twenty minutes is read out, turning my stomach. This man is a monster. He sits in handcuffs with no remorse, just boredom. He doesn’t seem to care about his fate. Once his crimes are read out, he’s asked how he pleads. He refuses to answer. That is taken as a guilty plea.

  “Is there anything you would like to say before your judgment is passed?” Draco asks.

  King Paulus looks up and a smile creeps onto his face. “Yes.” He stands, making his chains rattle. “You are all so stupid. You think she is dead, but I can feel her.” His voice rises, veins pop out on his neck.

  Draco orders two guards to take him away. As he is dragged from the room, he continues to roar, spit leaves his mouth. “My daughter lives! And when she comes down on you, you will all die. Die!” he roars, laughing hysterically.

  Is Bellona still alive? No one had seen her body. Just like nobody had seen his. I shiver at that thought. My mother is crying in Morrick’s arms too much is haunting her from seeing him. There is nothing I can do; best just let them be.

  I leave the room through a side door, hoping no one has seen me. But I am wrong.

  “What are you up to?” Tristan asks, while following me.

  I try to keep my strides confident. “I need to speak with him.”

  Tristan stops me mid-stride and swings me around to face him. “No, Sarajane. He is too dangerous.”

  “He is handcuffed in the dungeon with seven men guarding him.”

  Tristan considers this for a moment. I can see his mind weighing the pros and cons. I can also see the moment I win. Tristan lets out a puff of breath. “Fine, but I am going with you.”

  I wasn’t going to protest. King Paulus scared me as much as Bellona did. I can see where she got her cruelty from. Remembering the list of King Paulus’s crimes sends another shiver down my spine. Tristan’s hand finds mine and squeezes it before letting go.

  I take a deep breath as the guards let me and Tristan enter the dungeon.

  “Ahh, I knew you would come.” King Paulus has a look of satisfaction on his face, not a look a man wears when hi sentence is death.

  I don’t respond, just stand about ten feet away, keeping a good distance.

  He turns to Tristan. “The future king has come for advice.”

  I can see Tristan’s jaw tighten and his hands ball into fists.

  “What makes you so sure Bellona is alive?” I ask, getting King Paulus’s attention.

  “I would know if my own daughter was dead. We share a special bond,” he says with a nasty smile.

  “With Lucian? Is he the special?”

  Paulus laughs. “Yes exactly, clever girl!” It isn’t a compliment. He wears a snarl on his red face. “I don’t want to talk anymore.” He turns away from me.

  I move towards him, letting him know I’m not finished questioning him. “You’re such a weak liar. Your daughter is dead and you can’t bear to admit it.”

  His eyes bulge with temper, but he controls it. He is trying not to respond.

  But I need him to speak. “Your grandson Clive is a nasty piece of work like you,” I say.

  This gets his attention. He looks proud. “He is a smart boy, he always was.”

&
nbsp; “So sorry he’s dead,” I say with a smile, watching the horror cross his face. He doesn’t know Clive is dead.

  “Don’t think you can fool me with your lies, mortal.”

  Tristan crosses the floor and grabs his hair. “I was there. I watched him die in a pool of his own blood.” He yanks Paulus’s head back until I think he might break his neck. “Now you’re going to answer our questions.”

  King Paulus spits in Tristan’s face, but he doesn’t move.

  “It does not matter. You can’t stop her. She is untouchable. You’re all going to die.” He starts to laugh, but Tristan cuts off his laughter by squeezing his adam’s apple, causing King Paulus to choke and splutter. Tristan releases his neck but keeps a tight hold on his hair.

  “I could do this all day.”

  “I was hoping you would say that.” Paulus chokes on each word, but keeps smiling. He’s crazy, just like his daughter.

  It does take all day, as Tristan tortures him. I’m not able to hear much more of his cries, but every time he is asked to talk, he laughs. And then it we start all over again. I can’t understand how someone could take such pain.

  Tristan grabs his hand and holds a pliers to his fingernails. My stomach tightens. Will he really do it?

  “Last chance. Are you going to talk?”

  Sweat is forming on Paulus’s head. Worry finally starts to crease his face, but he looks away. I turn away too as Tristan pulls off his first fingernail. Paulus’s roars fill the cell once again, but the guards know better than to intervene.

  Three fingernails, I am feeling frayed and about to stop this when King Paulus gives in. “Okay. Okay,” he cries, holding up his hand as drool drips from his mouth.

  “Good, now answer Sarajane’s questions,” Tristan says, giving me the floor. My stomach flips when I look at the bloody mess he is. His face is swollen and blood pumps from his fingertips. Blood stains his tunic from a gash on his head. But he looks at me, trying hard not to pass out.

  I swallow. “Why do you believe Bellona is alive?”

  He cradles his fingers, making sure not to touch the tips; one threatening step forward from Tristan gets him talking. “I was there when Lucian tortured her. He killed Luna but kept her body alive, allowing himself to take it over whenever he likes. It helps him move around the castle. Can I have some water?” he asks while licking bloody and cracked lips.

  “No. Just answer her questions,” Tristan said from behind me.

  “Bellona is in the underworld, but her body is in Saskia.”

  “So if I was so precious to Lucian, why send an army to kill me?”

  King Paulus smiles. “To capture you, not kill you. They can’t kill you… they gave a blood oath.”

  That comforts me a bit. “And what do you get in return?” I was more curious than anything.

  “Immortality.”

  “Who else is part of this?” I am thinking about Musa and his hatred.

  “Just Saskia and Luxpagus. They believe they are fighting for freedom against Humus. Since they killed Bellona.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s all that is involved.”

  I didn’t know why I feel disappointed that he hadn’t mentioned Musa; it would have made sense.

  Tristan raises an eyebrow. In other words, was I finished? I give him a nod.

  King Paulus looks relieved to have the interrogation over.

  “What about Musa?” I add.

  Paulus looks annoyed at my question, but Tristan waves the pliers.

  “I don’t understand your question.”

  “I mean, does he have a part in this? With Lucian?”

  “No,” King Paulus pauses, “but he has his own agenda. Musa is far more powerful than anyone thinks. He will do whatever he feels necessary to protect his tribe and remain a leader.”

  I had known there was more to Musa. Tristan gives me a look, asking what this is all about. But I raise a finger to let him know just one more minute.

  “Is Musa here to help us?”

  This gets a laugh from King Paulus; even in his current state, he can still see humor in the situation. I feel like hitting him, but Tristan hasn’t left one part of his body untouched.

  “No. Musa is here for himself and his search for immortality, so he can remain tribe leader always. He believes that Humus protects three angels.” At this, he starts laughing hysterically. Yet he is at one with Lucian.

  “What about the warriors that came from Aquaterra?”

  “To help him and then return to Aquaterra.”

  I look at Tristan. “It would explain a lot,” I say. So they weren’t here to help. That was five-hundred men down. I knew when Musa wouldn’t let us stay at Aquaterra that he was all about himself, not about Saskia.

  “But there’s more,” King Paulus whispers, his chin tipping onto his chest. He looks ready to collapse.

  I move closer as he whispers, but it is impossible to hear.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Sarajane,” Tristan warns just as King Paulus springs up and grabs me, slamming my head off the side chair. Pain swells and my vision blurs. His hands are around my neck. Then he freezes. Tristan is right beside him then; he hits him with such force across the head that he slumps, causing him to release me from his grip. I crumble to the ground, gasping for air.

  “Come on.” Tristan helps me stand and examines my head; I feel the warm blood trickle down my face.

  “That was stupid,” I comment before he can, but Tristan doesn’t answer.

  “Wait by the door.”

  I do, walking slowly, taking baby steps so I won’t fall over with dizziness.

  Tristan straightens up Paulus in the chair, retying his binds that he had removed while torturing him. We leave and the guards say nothing. “Leave him for a while. He’s sleeping,” Tristan says.

  The sunlight burns my eyes when we arrive outside; the air is like a cold glass of water on a hot summer’s day.

  “What happened to you?” Avitus asks, taking in my head and clothes. He doesn’t look worried but rather, annoyed.

  Tristan greets him and Avitus grunts back. Not a fan then.

  “Practicing my fighting skills,” I say, trying to stay upright.

  “Yet your training with me is lacking. Come on, let’s clean you up.”

  I squeeze Tristan’s hand and follow Avitus. He walks me to Mirium’s.

  I am surprised to find Mirium sitting in an armchair.

  Avitus gets me settled, and Mirium hands me a cup of his disgusting brew. “It will ease the pain in your head,” he

  says while patting my hand.

  “I will be back in a while. Get changed and be ready for training.” Avitus leaves after saying goodbye to Mirium.

  I sip the brew, trying not to taste it.

  “What did you learn from King Paulus?” Mirium asks me.

  Of course he knew what I was up to. “Bellona is alive. Luna is dead. And Musa isn’t here to help us.”

  Mirium doesn’t seem surprised by any of this. “Is he dead?”

  “Mirium, why are you asking when you already know?” I wasn’t angry, just my head hurt with the effort of replying. “He attacked me, hence the head injury, so Tristan knocked him out, I hope.” I shiver at the memory of Tristan pulling out Paulus’s fingernails.

  “You have one more week before we make our way to Saskia. Do you feel prepared?” Mirium asked while refilling my mug. I give him a pleading look that says ‘no more’, but he hands the mug back to me. “It will help your head, Sarajane. Listen to an old man.” He smiles kindly at me.

  I take a deep gulp and hold my breath for a few minutes, afraid I might bring it back up. Once I know it will stay down, I answer Mirium. “I don’t think I will ever be prepared. How do you prepare to save the world?” I smile at Mirium even against my fluttering stomach. I am terrified of leaving. What if I can’t save them?

  “You can only do your best.”

  I laugh. It sounds like something m
um would say for a school test, not for saving the world. Then I regret laughing, as pain springs to the back of my eyes. I close them tightly and the pain recedes, or maybe it’s the brew I drink.

  “I just hope my best is good enough. Do you think King Paulus is telling the truth about Bellona?” It’s something that I questioned even as he said it. He isn’t exactly a man of his word.

  “It depends. Did he openly say it or was he forced?”

  I swallow. Forced is not the word. And by the look on Mirium’s face he knows what we have done, what had to be done.

  “Will anything happen to me and Tristan for…you know, King Paulus?”

  “Did anyone see you leave?”

  “The soldiers and Avitus.”

  “Anyone else?”

  “No.” At least I hoped not.

  “Then who is to say who did it?” Mirium gives me an exasperated smile.

  My eyelids feel so heavy, but I am afraid to sleep in case I don’t wake up.

  ***

  “Sarajane, you are the worst student ever.” Avitus’ angry voice wakes me, and Mirium rises on his staff while chuckling.

  “She is no more fit for your training today, Avitus. The child needs rest.”

  I look at Mirium and mouth ‘thank you’. I am so relieved to just rest.

  But I’m not so lucky. Avitus fights, saying not one of his students ever failed and I most certainly would not be the first. Pride, I hate it. So we start training.

  Once we are outside, I feel a bit better. By the time we finish my body trembles with exhaustion and I make my way to Tristans. I don’t get the luxury to investigate his surroundings. I’m too tired. He isn’t here as I strip off my blood-soaked clothes and splash myself down with cold water. I would kill for a shower. I don’t ponder on it. I fall into bed and into a deep sleep.

  That night I dream of the white wolves that protect the willows, their eyes watch me. The alpha approaches me slowly, purposely. I stand, not frozen in fear, but in awe at this magnificent creature. When he finally reaches me, his front two paws stretch out before him, his head dips in between. My breath comes out in large clouds of air, the night freezing. Even though I know it’s a dream, I still feel the cold. The white fur wraps around me but doesn’t keep the cold out.