To Live With Ancients (Ancient Atlantis Book 2)

by Sarah R. Silas

  “You’ve been under for a while and the city has been a mess my dear,” whispered Cecil, kneeling down to her level.

  “How long?”

  “2 weeks.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “The first week was tending to your burns. Luxor wasn’t able to reach you in time. He dug you out from under burning debris. Because of the trauma the healers thought it was appropriate to keep you under so you wouldn’t feel the pain. They decided today was going to be the first day you’d be ready to wake up,” he muttered. Juniper noticed that something in his voice gave off his internal disapproval at the whole affair. At least in the two weeks she’d been under Cecil’s opinion of the palace and its people had not changed.

  But something was different still, something about the way Cecil stared at her, she thought. “What’s wrong?” she finally asked, unsure of what better question there could be.

  Cecil hesitated. He brought his hand up to his brow and massaged his forehead for a moment before answering. “I think you should return to the surface. To your own world Junie.”

  “No,” she muttered defiantly.

  “I can’t keep you or even myself safe Junie, please-“

  “My presence was requested,” she muttered, nearly falling back asleep from exhaustion.

  “By whom?”

  “The Archivist,” she muttered quietly. She couldn’t help it, she finally succumbed and passed out. Cecil stared at her for a moment, unsure if what she had said was the truth.

  “The Archivist,” he muttered. Just saying the words riled him. How can a King not be in control of his own Kingdom, he thought. He caught the eye of one of the Healers and nodded. He gathered his papers in a rough pile, not caring to organize them, and quickly left the room. He decided it was due time to take control of his own keep before its inhabitants did anymore damage. Even more troubling, he had to find out what the Archivist could possibly want with Juniper.

  * * *

  Juniper woke up several hours later, finding that only one of the healers had stayed behind to keep an eye on her. The Healer immediately rushed over, her white robes flowing abruptly behind her. “Is everything satisfactory?” asked the Healer, through a heavy accent. She looked to be near Juniper’s age, but her eyes were also brilliant lavender, just like Cecil’s.

  “Yes,” replied Juniper. She found that she had regained some of her strength. With considerable effort she lifted herself up a little and put herself into a more upright position. She accepted more water and some soup from the Healer. The Healer didn’t seem to want to start a conversation, so it was up to Juniper. “Are you a member of the Royal Family?” Juniper asked.

  “Yes ma’am.”

  Juniper nodded and took another sip of the hot soup. It was bland and tasted like little more than chicken stock, but it seemed to bring her more strength with every sip. “How did you end up as a Healer? How are you related to Cecil?”

  The Healer frowned when Juniper used Cecil’s first name. “I am his highness’s second cousin, on his father’s side. I would have been seventh in line for the throne. However, I did not want to be married, so I chose to become a Healer instead.”

  Now it was Juniper’s turn to frown. “Healers do not have to be married?”

  “Healers are not allowed to marry, as our roles are the perpetual caring of others. We bring and sustain life as far as we can. Our lives, as they are, do not go far beyond that,” was the Healer’s response.

  “I see. That sounds a little more morbid than marriage,” replied Juniper. Apparently, she thought, her current condition was to speak her mind.

  The Healer shrugged. “I have made my choices and I shall live by them. I enjoy what I do. If it were not for me, you would not be alive right now Madame Nesbitt.”

  That response was deserved, Juniper thought. “I apologize if my comment was deemed malicious. It was not meant to be so.”

  The Healer nodded. “Will you be staying in Atlantis long?”

  “I believe I will be. Why do you ask?”

  The Healer hesitated. “I am much older than the Heir, his highness. And he cares for you deeply. I know that, seeing Death as I have and his devotion to you, I would also ask for the one that I love to leave the city, if that would save them.”

  Juniper stared hard at the Healer, not sure how to respond. “You believe he loves me?”

  “It is apparent. As apparent as his disdain for the throne. As apparent as his brother’s disdain for him.”

  “You seem to enjoy speaking your mind.”

  “I have made my choices Madame Nesbitt.”

  Juniper became silent, thinking about the implications of her staying. But, most importantly, whether Cecil was actually in love with her or if this was just a fling. Some sort of otherworldly, unimaginably weird fling, but a fling nonetheless. Finally, she nodded at the Healer. “Healer, I have made up my mind as well.”

  “Good.” The Healer got up off her chair and silently left the room. A few moments later, a brown eyed Healer entered and silently sat down. Juniper nodded at her new caretaker, but received nothing in return.

  A Meeting

  Cecil sat in his older brother’s chambers defying tradition, pretending to already be King. Which he would not be for at least a few months. He played with his hair, running his hands over and over the sides of his head, waiting for the meeting that should have begun already. Lord Manfred had sent a message earlier through one of his aides that he was going to be late. His mother and younger brother however, should already have been there. Perhaps his commands were yet to hold their full weight. Or his family were just insubordinate and punishable. Not that he’d ever do that, he thought. He was better than that.

  He stared out the King’s Window, a lavish glass porthole that rose 30 feet and was over 60 feet wide. It stood behind the King’s desk, which Cecil found himself sitting at after pacing the room waiting for his meeting to begin. The chambers themselves were richly adorned, spanning several large rooms, a bedroom, and a bathroom. Each room was laid with a beautiful wood floor with planks of three different shades of brown.

  Growing more and more impatient, Cecil finally abandoned the desk and laid across one of the two couches that sat parallel to each other and perpendicular to the King’s desk. He laid face down, pushing his fingers into the embroidered leaves and animals of the seat and cushions. Soon he would have all these rooms refurnished, he thought. His eyes slowly closed and his hands drifted to his sides, his left hand gently falling to the floor.

  After what appeared mere moments of sleep, Cecil found himself being shaken awake, with Luxor’s velveteen voice whispering into his ear. “Wake up big brother, time for your meeting to begin isn’t it?” Cecil’s eyes opened to find his mother, Lord Manfred, Luxor, and his usual posse standing over him, most with bemused smiles on their faces.

  Groggily, Cecil sat up. “I had been waiting for you people for quite a while,” Cecil muttered, trying to fight back a yawn. He gave up almost immediately and took the opportunity to yawn and stretch at the same time. “Thought a nap was to be in order.”

  “When the King sleeps, everyone must wait,” said Luxor with a smirk.

  “Indeed,” chimed in Cecil’s mother with a disapproving glance.

  “Shall we begin already, I have a multitude of things to finish,” sighed Lord Manfred.

  Cecil nodded. “I called this meeting to discuss the issues at hand. Lord Manfred, if you could begin with your concerns, and we’ll branch out from there.”

  Lord Manfred straightened his headdress, pulled at his robes lightly and then with a flourish of his hands said simply, “Prince Cecil, I believe it is time that you retain more protection and perhaps are moved to a separate estate further away from the city. For your own protection.”

  Luxor smiled devilishly, the Queen Regent muttered something inaudible, and Cecil stared at Lord Manfred speechlessly. “Where?” asked Luxor, trying to keep any and all amusement out of his voice.

&n
bsp; “Perhaps a sister city, until we can fix all these problems,” answered Lord Manfred.

  Cecil sucked at his teeth. “No. However, I see your larger point. Other options?”

  “But sir,” spluttered Lord Manfred.

  Cecil shook his head. “No,” he said defiantly. Lord Manfred nodded and gave way for the others to chime in.

  “I would like to suggest that my men be placed at your side at all times,” suggested Luxor. He pointed to his posse. “They’re the most trustworthy Guardsmen we have currently.”

  Cecil looked at Luxor and then his men, trying to figure out what this would mean. Luxor was trying to exert control over Cecil and even track his comings and goings. Cecil decided to dodge the suggestion. “Do we have a preliminary understanding of the attack? Motives? Causes? Means of entry?”

  “It was magic based, no physical explosive, and the Guardsmen couldn’t find a reasonable means of entry that was exploited. There could be dissidence amongst the ranks. I will lead the men to find out who it all is,” said Luxor. He nodded to his men who took rapid notes of the proceedings.

  “Was I the target?” asked Cecil.

  “No,” said Lord Manfred, piping up again.

  “Then?”

  “It was probably your plucky girlfriend,” said the Queen Regent, her voice oozing sarcasm. Lord Manfred shrugged in response.

  “If she was the target, they also blew up a lot of our arsenal,” said Luxor. “But I suppose it could be plausible.”

  “Juniper?” muttered Cecil, not understanding how she could be the cause. He longed, even now, to be in her arms instead of this meeting, hoping to protect her and figure out what was next for them, if anything. His presence in Atlantis meant that he had to take the lead as Heir, fix the city’s problems, fix the Kingdom’s issues, and still maintain a modicum of sanity. He’d let her go by the wayside, hoping that she’d be there when he had time. He had grown complacent and now the gods were punishing him. In the moment directly after his mother had sarcastically uttered her statement he felt the pang of what he thought it would mean to lose her.

  And in that moment he knew. He was in love with her. Whatever that word meant to everyone else, he couldn’t know. But in that moment, he knew that he loved her. And to lose her, would be to lose himself. Their odd tryst, however brief and filled with sexual lust above the sea, had turned into something else in his heart and his mind. “I see,” he said.

  “Perhaps she heeded your advice brother,” whispered Luxor, trying his usual best to make Cecil irritated.

  “I doubt that girl knows what’s good for her. You never did tell us how she ended up down here. Was it your will Cecil?” asked the Queen Regent, her eyes twinkling as she stared into Cecil, as if looking straight into his soul.

  Cecil and his mother never had a particularly fruitful relationship, but it was always better than the one he had, had with his father. In their long talks, their hours spent together walking the Gardens, catching up after his expeditions to the Sister Cities, or after his more and more frequent visits to the Oracle, they had gotten close. And as such, she knew him better than anyone else in that room, except perhaps Manfred. In a way, he thought, he was looking at his mother and his real father, as he struggled to answer the question. To answer truthfully would mean that he allowed an overlander to just waltz in because he listened to his heart and loins. To lie would mean that his mother may never trust him in connection with anything relating to Juniper ever again. “She tagged along because she had nothing left up there and we were in an unlabeled and not carefully heeded relationship,” he managed to say.

  “So she’s pregnant,” muttered Manfred.

  Cecil’s heart leapt into his chest considering even the mere possibility that Juniper could be pregnant, carrying their child even now, in this dangerous place he had willingly brought her. “No Lord Manfred, I think not,” Cecil replied.

  “So that’s that, then,” said Luxor.

  “No,” replied Cecil, looking at Manfred with a knowing glance.

  Lord Manfred looked sideways at Luxor and then waved his hands in the air as if the secret was too much for him to handle. “She’s gone to the Archivist and the Arbiter,” he said, spitting out the phrase.

  A silence permeated the room. The Queen Regent held her face in her hands. Luxor looked puzzled. Cecil sat back down on the couch. So it was true, he thought.

  “She’s out of our hands now,” mumbled Cecil, ”she’s staying in Atlantis.”

  By Chance

  Juniper gingerly walked herself into the shower and immediately sat on the floor as the hot water rushed over her, easing her sore muscles and calming her anxiety down to a manageable level. She had decided that after two days of being awake and just laying in bed, she had to get up and try and resume her life. Whatever her life was exactly she couldn’t tell, but it was better than laying in bed, bored out of her mind.

  Manfred’s last words to her still pounded in her head. She remembered only pieces of his statement, something about a request by the Archivist, or something. She wracked her mind to try and remember, but the explosion had taken away those memories probably for good.

  Besides the constancy of hot water, Juniper was always pleasantly surprised by the wonderful qualities of the soap and shampoo that the Palace servants had stocked her bathroom with. Smelling like lavender and chamomile was nice, but the soap made her skin supple and hydrated. While the shampoo made her hair lustrous and appealing.

  Her mind was flooded with the all the agonies and anxieties of the world she had left behind. For some reason, that world, far above the waves still seemed the most real. And the most frightening. She may have been caught in something far beyond herself down here, but above the mortgage was still due and she probably needed to find another job. Was she even staying down here? Why was she even staying? It was clear Cecil didn’t want her down here, she thought. Whatever they had was gone. But, did they even have anything in the first place?

  She shrugged off these worries, she shrugged off the worst of the problems, the lack of love both emotional and physical and just let the warm water wash over her until it gave her the strength to get up. She quickly lathered, washed herself clean, left the bathroom, and emerged back into her chambers with a plume of steam.

  She stood there naked, blinking for a few moments, wondering where she had left her robe. She really wished that she had emerged to find Cecil waiting for her, perhaps naked himself and a devilish glint in his eye. Their brief time together before Luxor’s arrival had been nice, especially with his insistence of taking his time on her, but there was something less romantic about it than the time they had above. Deep within her, her sexuality coiled and she began to consider what her schedule for that day looked like. But seeing as it was already past noon Atlantean time, she felt that she had better get a move on and not spend any time alleviating herself of her undue pressure and stress. Not even enough time or motivation to give herself some time, she thought morbidly. Whatever her life was coming to she wasn’t sure she was happy with it.

  She dressed quickly, finding some simple cotton garb in the closet of her chambers and whisked herself down the stone steps and through the palace. She had promised herself that today, now that she was feeling better, she would seek out the Archivist, and figure out why she had been requested all those days before.

  The main hallway stretched out before her. To her left she found a guard standing placidly next to a small door to the outside city. She approached him. “Excuse me Guardsman, where may I find an escort to the outside, please?”

  The Guardsman gave her an odd stare, somewhere between mockery and surprise. “I’m sorry madame, there will be no escorts given to high ranking personnel until the current situation has been resolved.”

  Juniper was surprised. She hadn’t expected that answer. Honestly, she hadn’t thought anything of the ‘situation’ since she had gotten up. She was feeling better, that’s all that mattered to her. “Guardsman! I�
�m needed in the Archives. If you do not give me an escort, I will have to go myself. And that would probably not go over very well.”

  The Guardsman’s face barely shifted before he responded in a similarly monotonous tone. “No royal personnel or guests may leave the palace until the situation has been resolved. If you could please move aside madame.”

  Juniper began to feel herself getting flustered. “Look here Guardsman! I—“

  “Madame. No arguments will be entertained. If you continue, I will be forced to remove you to your rooms,” interrupted the Guardsman.

  Juniper breathed hard out of her nose, almost snorting her disapproval. “Where is Lord Manfred?”

  “I am unsure of that answer madame.”

  Juniper stepped back from the Guardsman, twirled around and stomped off to find Lord Manfred, or someone who could help her cause. She was surprised by her agility and her quick recovery. Whatever the healers had given her, and the care they had taken, had clearly worked.

  Juniper strode away from the Guardsman, deciding that she’d try and find her way down to the Arena. She wound her way through the halls of the palace, trying her best to remember where exactly the turn for the Arena entrance would be. As she kept peering around corners, hoping she had found the right turn and turning when she thought something looked familiar, she found herself standing squarely in front of the giant throne room doors, which stood ajar.

  She heard voices through the doorway and the distinctive high and clear voice of Princess Marabella. Perhaps Marabella knew where Lord Manfred was, or more specifically where she could find the Archives, she thought. She had a feeling that Princess Marabella was trustworthy, even if Cecil had told her not to interact with her too closely.

  She poked her head through the open doorway and found a small knot of people standing amongst the right most pillars, about halfway down the hallway. They were all dressed ornately, Marabella was even wearing a vast assortment of jewels around her neck and forehead, but Juniper wasn’t sure if this was normal or if they were waiting for something important. Marabella was a princess after all, Juniper reminded herself.