The Havenshire Resistance (Heirs to the Throne Book 2)

by Diane Rapp

  His dark eyes scrutinized Tanya, measured her wiry stance, her fair hair and startling blue eyes. Will I meet his approval? she wondered.

  “Welcome to my house, Tanya. Time grows short before the battle will begin. Where are your students?”

  Tanya’s throat felt dry as she licked her lips. “They’re outside the gate. I wanted to speak with you about our training before you meet the other women.”

  Marasuta’s arched an eyebrow. “You doubt my ability to train soldiers?”

  “No, I wasn’t sure you’d agree to train us,” Tanya replied meekly.

  “Are you cowards?”

  “No!” She glanced nervously at Chella and Maggie. “We all escaped from Jarrack’s dungeons at great risk of life and vow to take vengeance on our captors.”

  Marasuta nodded and his tone softened. “Tell me about yourself.”

  She relaxed. “I’m a mother. I need to free my son from Jarrack’s nursery. He’s just a baby and can’t defend himself from his evil father.”

  “Jarrack is the father of your child?”

  “Perhaps but I had little choice in the matter.” Tanya shrugged. “I was forced to entertain Jarrack or any guest of his choosing. My son doesn’t resemble Jarrack. He’s blond with blue eyes, and Jarrack’s sons are all the spitting image of him.”

  “Would you kill the father of your son if he is Jarrack?”

  Tanya’s eyes flashed with anger. “I’d slit Jarrack’s throat with the same pleasure he took in causing pain, but I don’t want to endanger my son.”

  “In Jarrack’s hands your son’s life is already in jeopardy. Do you know what Jarrack plans for his sons?” Tanya shook her head. “He plans to kill the mind of a son and place his own mind inside the boy’s body. Is that the future you want for your son?”

  Tanya gasped. “If he touches my boy I’ll kill him.”

  “Are ready to take the oath? If you take the oath you may train as a Samurai, indeed you will be honor-bound to train as a warrior.” Marasuta’s expression turned fierce. “Do not take the oath lightly. It binds you to serve until death. Do you have the courage, the commitment to become oath-bound?” His dark piercing eyes fixed on Tanya’s gaze.

  Her eyes narrowed with determination. “I learned to defend myself and the knowledge came at great cost. If you train me, I’ll fight harder than anyone under your command because I have better cause to succeed. I promised to fight Jarrack, release the wretched women in his dungeons, and rescue my son. If your oath does not conflict with my promises, I’ll take it and keep it until death.”

  Marasuta examined the young woman with interest. “I will recite the oath. You decide if you wish to take it.” Marasuta unsheathed his sword and held it erect before his face. “I vow to be loyal to my King and fight for his cause. The King’s word shall be my law, his safety my duty. I will obey the orders of my commander and King until death.”

  Tanya smiled. “It’s a good oath, providing the identity of the King is true. There is a man in Havenshire who calls himself king and I’d sooner slit my own throat than take an oath to him.”

  Marasuta stiffened and poised his blade to strike. “You shall never refer to that usurper as king in my presence. Donovan is our King. The crown is his until it passes to his heir and a new oath sworn.”

  Tanya said, “You seal my fate. I will swear your oath to King Donovan, and to his lady, Queen Krystal. Thirty women wait outside the gate, each one willing to serve King Donovan.”

  Marasuta grinned. “Bring everyone inside our compound. We provide weapons, housing, food and clothing. Training starts at first light. Heed my words; they shall rise before dawn, practice archery, swordsmanship, unarmed combat, and riding. Recreation is not permitted save it sharpen military skills. Everyone wears Samurai garments, the color based on rank and no other adornment. Self control is the ideal. Courage, endurance, loyalty, frugality, and piety are the rule. Anyone who takes the oath, lives like Samurai, behaves like Samurai, and accepts the same punishment whether man or woman. No flirtations or intrigues disturb our unity. If the rules seem too severe, your women should not enter the gates.”

  Tanya nodded. She’d heard the same rules from Chella on the trail. “They agree,” she said, bowing.

  “I give you leave to bring the new Samurai into the castle…after you take refreshment. We have tea waiting in the pagoda.” He led them outside to a patio surrounded by fish ponds and a red building at its center.

  Tanya sat with Marasuta, Chella and Maggie sipping tea in the pagoda. He asked, “What skills have you studied, Tanya?”

  Her steady gaze met Marasuta’s eyes. “As a girl my father taught me archery.”

  Chella said, “I’ve seen her shoot. She’s got a natural stance and should excel at unarmed combat.”

  “Good. Take time to learn physical skills and allow your soul to mature in an atmosphere of beauty and tranquility. Serenity completes our souls and prepares us to meet death. Killing is an ugly thing that destroys an incomplete soul. Your women will learn skills to survive on the battlefield, but as their leader you must teach them to survive after the battle is over.”

  Maggie said, “Time is growing short. Krystal’s daughters are beginning to regain their memories. Soon we will help them free Donovan.”

  *****

  Chella watched Tanya and her women with growing satisfaction while Maggie took lessons in oriental cooking in the kitchen. Chella needed a workout. She dressed in white silks with a black sash tied at her waist, a mark of her training in the Institute.

  She sauntered toward Maxine. “Would you care to practice unarmed combat techniques? I’m a little rusty.”

  Maxine scowled. “Nuns don’t fight. They’re squeamish biddies if you ask me.”

  Chella’s expression hardened. “I’ll give you a good workout, I promise.”

  Tanya frowned hearing Maxine’s surly jibe. Chella’s lanky figure towered over Maxine, but the stocky woman regularly used her bulk to overpower opponents. Would the scrappy fighter hurt the nun?

  Chella assumed a fighting stance, looking confident and relaxed.

  “Don’t blame me if your fancy white duds get dirty.” Maxine sneered and dove at Chella.

  Moving with fluid grace, Chella dodged the robust woman and executed a swift counter attack. Soon Maxine’s squirming body lay pinned under Chella’s knee.

  “How’d you manage that?” Maxine gasped.

  Chella smiled. “Don’t be so quick to judge a woman by her vocation. Want to try again? Come at me with your best attack.”

  Maxine circled cautiously, measuring Chella with her eyes. Chella’s stance appeared loose and easy. Maxine charged and kicked with her full weight. Tanya winced, remembering the force of Maxine’s kick. Chella’s midsection seemed to collapse with the impact, but she dropped, rolled, and whipped her long legs around, locking Maxine’s stocky torso in a scissor-grip.

  Once again Maxine lay pinned by the nun.

  “I’ll give you credit, you’ve got some good moves.” Maxine laughed, brushing dirt from her pants. “Do you mind teaching me how you did that?”

  Tanya marched forward. “I’d appreciate learning that maneuver, too. I’ve never been able to counter Maxine’s kick.”

  Chella’s white teeth flashed as she grinned. “I’m happy to add my skills to Marasuta’s training.” She demonstrated the maneuver in slow motion as more trainees gathered to watch. Chella explained, “A woman’s center of gravity is different than a man’s. We carry more muscle mass below the waist while they carry theirs above.” She demonstrated by tilting Maxine and knocking her to the ground with an easy lever-action.

  Maxine laughed. “You’re right. Marasuta holds himself at an angle I can’t copy.”

  “Men enjoy superior upper-body strength but women possess strong flexible legs. Nature also gave us a high pain-threshold to survive childbirth. Balance is important. In my native country, women carried heavy jars of water atop their heads without spilling a drop. Prac
tice keeping your head steady, and maintain constant eye contact while executing fluid movements.”

  Tanya asked, “Would you join our sessions, Chella? Your insights give us a feminine advantage. Jarrack’s ruffians won’t expect women to fight like you.”

  “I’d love to join you.” Chella’s eyes flashed with enthusiasm. “It will let me be useful while I get into shape.”

  “If you fight this well now, I’d hate to meet you when you’re in shape.” Maxine gave a hearty laugh.

  Chella waved. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Tanya said, “It’s a date! I can use help with this group.” She wondered about Chella, a famous healer skilled at combat. Without a nun’s habit Chella cut an imposing figure. Her long stride covered ground faster than most men. Tanya appreciated any help training her women. She prayed the small group of archers she trained would learn quickly.

  Two weeks of practice improved everyone’s skill. Marasuta’s regimen was difficult to follow with daily activities designed to improve dexterity necessary in battle. From sunrise to sunset the women practiced on horseback, on foot, and over the water.

  They needed time to hone their abilities but events were coming to a head. Tanya worried her group would not survive their first skirmish and drove them harder than Marasuta. They must play an integral roll when they breached the castle. Tanya planned to get inside during the first assault to rescue the children.

  Tanya’s knuckles turned white as she gripped the heavy sword. Her arm ached from swinging the blade, and sweat glistened on her body as she assumed various battle positions over and over.

  “Your rhythm improves,” Marasuta said. Tanya stopped, suddenly aware she was the last one on the training field. “But you may achieve more power if your sword acts an extension of your arm. Repeat the stroke often enough and your muscles will remember how to move without thinking.”

  He raised his blade and effortlessly glided through strokes like a dancer, the sword flowing around his body. The golden glow of the first moon glinted across cold steel, transforming it into a living firebrand whipping around Marasuta’s head and torso. The swordplay looked like a ceremony.

  Tanya slumped onto the step, feeling dejected.

  Marasuta smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ve spent my life wielding a weapon, making it work for me. This blade has a history, tasting the blood of many enemies. Each ancestor placed a life-stone in its hilt. Mine lies here.” The blood-red gem sparkled in the moonlight. Don’t expect to achieve a lifetime of training in a few short weeks.”

  “I must. I can’t count on anyone else to complete my task.”

  “Why?” His dark eyes glistened in the moonlight.

  Tanya struggled to express herself. “The brave men I knew, my father, my brother, and my promised husband, failed to help when desert riders dragged us away screaming.” She wiped her sword with a silk polishing cloth as she spoke. “We learned the bitter truth. Our men sat by their warm hearths and drank ale while we languished in Jarrack’s harem. I can’t trust anyone to save my son except myself.”

  Marasuta sighed. “People endure situations that break their hearts. If you believe your men enjoyed sitting safely at home, you don’t understand how they suffered. If they rode into Jarrack’s castle waving their swords, they’d rest in a cold grave. Would that change your situation?”

  “They should’ve roused others to join them, gathered an army to crush the viper in his den! We’re dead to them as they’re dead to us.”

  Marasuta’s white teeth gleamed in a grin. “To raise and train an army takes time and careful planning. What do you think we’re doing here? Fathers, brothers, and husbands join Krystal’s army to kill the tyrant who stole their loved ones. Years of planning, years of gathering supplies and weapons, and years of secret suffering have built our army. Do not condemn us before you understand what it takes to launch that army.”

  Tanya slipped her sharp blade into its sheath. “It is too late.”

  “It’s never too late to forgive.”

  She buried her face against his shoulder and said, “My sister killed herself and they ripped my infant son from my arms. I’ve lost everyone I loved! I’ll be at the head of that army with my sword ready to taste his blood.”

  “Yes and our army will be at your back. You can’t help your sister, but you can find your son. I give you my word. We will see those children live a life of freedom. Let’s join your fellow soldiers in the hall.”

  As he led her down the stone pathway lit by paper lanterns, Tanya felt the first hope she dared to embrace since losing her innocence. She gripped the hilt of her sword and joined the other Samurai.

  11 ~ KRYSTAL ACTIVATES THE PLAN

  The dream garden was empty. Krystal wandered the paths, hoping to detect some sign of Felesia but the girl had vanished. She felt lonely. Her thoughts drifted to Donovan, and she thought she felt his hand on her shoulder.

  “Don’t worry,” a whisper in the breeze told her. “I’m moving through the room and will soon reach that blasted box.”

  Krystal turned, hoping to see him, but she was still alone. “Donovan?” she cried. “Where are you, love?” She ran down the pathway to the nearest entrance, hoping she could push her way into the castle and see him, but the door was barred shut.

  “Don’t give up, Donovan!” she shouted as she pounded against the heavy metal door. “We’ll be there for you.”

  *****

  Krystal walked into the village wearing a black wool cape over her slim body. She knocked softly on the rough wooden door of a dark cottage. The door opened and Claudia rushed her inside.

  She said, “The girls’ memories are waking, so it’s time to set my plan in motion. Send a messenger pigeon to Mandrake and prepare the show for Angela’s inauguration.”

  Claudia nodded. “I finished editing the holographic image. It will announce that Angela is your chosen successor and beckon the faithful to gather and fight Jarrack. Beltram won’t have a chance in Hell, pardon my language, of becoming high priest.”

  “There’s a change in plans. I must go to Havenshire and see Donovan for myself.”

  Claudia flinched. “No. That’s too dangerous and we need your power with the army.”

  “I heard Donovan in my dreams, and I must see him for myself. The plans are in place. If I’m already inside the castle, I can still do my part.” Krystal unhooked the chain from her amulet. “Give this to Angela. The crowd will recognize it as a symbol of my power and accept her as high priestess. Have her return it to me inside Havenshire.”

  Relinquishing the necklace she’d worn for years felt like losing a part of her soul. She watched Claudia slip the bauble into a pouch, failing to detect the stone’s throbbing power.

  Krystal fled the cottage before she could demand Claudia return the amulet. As the door closed, a large wolf emerged from a shadow.

  We begin, Konig. Contact your pack to send out messengers. We won’t have long. The wolf ran into the woods and Krystal heard howls echo through the still night. She felt elated but apprehensive. After years of planning, hiding, and manipulating, she’d reunite with her family for a brave assault against the devil who shattered her world. Will my scheme work? A misstep now can prove costly.

  She suppressed her nagging fear and walked into the crisp night air. Without the protection of her amulet, Beltram’s potion took hold. Strength oozed from her body and her legs felt wobbly as she deliberately approached the hostile minds of her abductors. She felt rough hands jostle her numb body into a wagon.

  She nearly gagged from the rancid cloth covering her face. Give me courage to face my enemies and strength to defeat them, she thought as the cart bumped into motion. She heard a thud as Konig jumped into the cart and his warm body settled next to her. Thank you for coming.

  We ran like the wind after meeting with the pack messengers. The prospect of startling your captors when they discover a wolf protecting their precious cargo makes the effort worthwhile.

  Krysta
l smiled and snuggled against his warm body. I can’t wait to see Havenshire again.

  We heard stories from Kriegen about human caverns. They hold danger and adventure. It will be great fun to walk at your side and face the enemy.

  As Krystal slept in the jostling wagon, men emerged from cottages and rode in secret over mountains and down the valleys delivering her message: “Queen Krystal summons her followers to gather weapons and journey in secret to Havenshire.” The message roused new riders to spread the word and a silent army of common folk flowed toward their long-awaited goal. They would soon liberate their King from the usurper.

  Krystal awakened in a sumptuous chamber in Havenshire. She paced the locked room like a caged lion while Konig stretched out before the crackling fireplace. His golden eyes glanced lazily at her from the soft carpet.

  Why are you agitated?

  I’m locked in this opulent prison while Jarrack wastes time. Why doesn’t he confront me? After years avoiding capture, I’d think he’d be anxious to gloat about his success.

  Konig yawned, flashing sharp white teeth behind a long pink tongue. The evil one fears your power. He gathers courage to face you. The wolf sat up and his ears rotated to hear a distant sound. We will not wait much longer. Guards tromp down the hall to fetch us.

  Good, Jarrack will not forget this meeting.

  Krystal straightened her tunic and gazed into the mirror. She fingered small lines around her eyes, evidence of long years spent waiting. Frozen in stasis, Donovan would still be young with the vitality and appetites of a virile man. Will he still want me?

  The door clanged open. Krystal faced her guards with dignity, Konig sitting protectively at her side. A guard stepped forward and a small muscle twitched at the corner of his mouth, betraying his fear of the wolf.

  He jerked when Krystal said, “The wolf will not harm you unless you bear malice against me. He senses emotions, so move slowly and remain calm.”