Kingdom's Darkness (Gemstone Royals Book 2) Page 6

  “The guards were mean to me again,” he replied.

  Feather pursed her lips empathetically, “why do you always let those meanies bring you down? Why not just leave your deliveries like everyone else?”

  “I do not care that they are mean Feather, but that they keep blocking me from an opportunity of seeing the princess.”

  Feather rolled her eyes. They walked side by side along the dusty streets of the Nevea, weaving in and out of the vendors stalls.

  “You are not still holding on to that one time you got to talk to the princess?”

  “Of course!” he replied, “the best way to get recognized as a musician is to have the princess see that herself. And that one time, I know we connected. I just know she would not mind seeing me again.”

  “Jahreed, you will get your moment,” Feather assured him, “someone as talented as you could only hide in your father’s shadows for so long. Soon you will break free.”

  Jahreed smiled, “thank you for believing in me Feather. You are a friend worth having. But really… there is something urgent I wanted to share with the princess.”

  “What could be so urgent?”

  Jahreed sighed, wondering if he should tell her about what he had seen. She would probably think him odd. He did not want her thinking any less of him, especially when it was more than likely that she would be his wife one day. The North Territory was a small place. Everyone knew everyone, so much so that children were paired up at a young age, much like him and Feather. Their parents were close and so they were expected to be as well and as things often went in the North, they would soon find suitable companionship in each other. She was from the clan of Nintithe, who were farmers, and like his family, her family had followed in the footsteps of her ancestors. The Nintithes and Aronites had been neighbours from the start and had maintained those ties for generations. Northerner’s had a great obsession with heritage, it was probably why so many of their young people were running off to join the Royal Guard.

  “It’s nothing,” Jahreed replied, “nothing to worry about.”

  Feather arched a brow at him in disbelief, but soon her good-natured smile won out and she was grinning at him once more.

  “Well alright, if you say so. I am glad you decided to drop by, to see me of course.”

  “Oh yes, how could I not?”

  Feather smiled, “thank you Jahreed. It’s always better when you are around.”

  “Same here,” he replied.

  Reaching out she took his hand as they made their way back to her parents’ stall, “if you miss me after tonight, I’m going with my father to Stone Vale for the festival. He usually spends three days, but I am hoping to convince him to stay longer. Have you given any thought to my offer?”

  Jahreed frowned, there it was, what he was waiting for, “To be honest I have not had the time. But now I wonder if father is going this month?”

  “You have never been to Stone Vale, have you?”

  “No, father usually takes my older brothers. I tend to get a little squeamish when we have to butcher the sheep for customers wanting mutton.”

  “Oh well…”

  “Unless,” Jahreed interjected, “father does not go and I go under the guise of helping my brothers. Mother always wants us to spend time together and they hate it when I am around. They would not even care if I am gone.”

  Feather clapped her hands together excitedly, “oooh wouldn’t that be delightful. Two of us together in Stone Vale. I can show you some of the sights, we can go together to the gathering. I can introduce you to some of my friends. Will you not make it happen to spend time with me?”

  Jahreed frowned for a moment. For he had not been thinking about spending time with Feather at all. But rather, he was seeing this as an opportunity to speak directly to the king about his concerns. Besides the feeling in his gut had confirmed it, it was where he needed to be. He felt bad, now that he saw her excitement at spending time with him. He smiled back.

  “Yes of course. You are my friend, Feather. I will try my best to go to Stone Vale with you.”

  ✽✽✽

  Nyla slipped into the room in which Ben had been placed and gently pushed the door behind her. They had fortified an old inn and a diner and had set up for the night. Ben and Han along with the others who were wounded, had been placed in the rooms upstairs where Walner and the rest of his team were attending to their wounds. She had waited until the others had settled down and had taken first watch along with Deswald at the watchtower. Deswald thought nothing of covering for her so she could sneak away to check on Ben

  "Must you sneak around like a thief in the night?"

  He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his back turned to her with a clean white bandage wrapped around his bare torso.

  "How are you feeling?" she asked tentatively. She could sense that he was upset with her. As distracting as his physique was, she was attuned to his body language. And right now, it was telling her that things were not well between them.

  "What are you doing here?" he asked, looking over his shoulder at her.

  She took a step forward, "don't be silly. You knew I would come. I wanted to see how you were doing?"

  No longer comfortable with speaking to the curtain of hair cascading down his back. She walked around the bed and sat on the stool facing him. His expression was a stoic mask of control.

  She reached out and touched his hand but he withdrew it immediately, wincing at the pain caused by the sudden movement.

  "Why are you upset with me?"

  Ben looked directly at her now, no longer masking the hurt, "I was wounded and you dared not touch me. You sneak in here like a burglar, whispering to me like our relationship is a secret. And do not think I didn't notice how standoffish you have been with me since we left Aldor. So do not come here and pretend that you care for me Nyla."

  Nyla took in his pale face; a dark shadow had grown along his jaw line and there was a weakness in his eyes from all the blood loss. He had been terribly wounded and now she regretted taking so long to come see him. In this dreary time, she longed to see that good-natured smile that she had grown to love so much.

  "Ben what are you saying? Of course, I care for you. I love you."

  "You love me? Then why is the thought of being with me forever so off-putting? Why can you not let others know, so that I don't look like a fool trapped in a dance of unrequited love?"

  Nyla lowered her gaze, feeling the burn of his accusations. Before they had left for their Quest, Ben had asked her to marry him. It was sudden and unexpected and she had not known what was the best answer to give to him. Even now she was uncertain. So, she had asked that he wait until after they came back from the forty-day journey for her answer. He had seemed fine with it. But now she was wondering if he had just masked his negative feelings as was a typical Ben thing to do.

  "I just thought it best for us to keep our distance here. The men are already whispering among themselves."

  "So what Nyla? I am a man you are a woman. We love each other. People who love each other look out for each other. Not keep their distance while they bleed out."

  "That is what you just don't get Ben," she countered through gritted teeth.

  "We are not just any man and any woman..."

  "Oh, pardon me," he interjected sarcastically, "I forget that you are Nyla, the great lone warrior. The paragon of mystery and toughness."

  Nyla gaped at him, "Ben!" she exclaimed in shock.

  "You know how difficult it is for me as a woman in the military."

  Ben nodded slowly, "I also know what it is to want to hold the hand of the woman I love while they pull an arrow from my gut and sew me back together; with nothing but a needle and a bottle of rum. I know what it is to have my eyes go dim and feel the strength drain from me and wonder if I would die without seeing your face again."

  The accusation in his eyes tore at Nyla but her pride put up a protective wall between them. How could he not understand what it wa
s like for her. It would never be that simple for her.

  "I don't know what to say Ben."

  "Say nothing Nyla, that's what you're good at. If the army means so much to you maybe you should say yes to it instead."

  He eased himself back on the bed with a grimace and her gaze went to his bandaged wound, a tinge of pink had seeped through it.

  "Ben I..."

  "I need to rest Nyla," he said turning his gaze to the ceiling.

  Nyla sighed. He had never been like this to her before. She thought it quite immature given their situation. She had more important things to think about than Ben's fragile emotions. She got up and made her way to the door. Taking one last look at him, she shut the door quietly behind her.

  Chapter 7

  With the wind whipping his hair about his face, Deswald sat inside the watch tower, his eyes perusing the moonlit plains in the distance. His hair had grown too long and his patience was wearing thin. He longed to see Ruby again and a part of him felt like the longer he was away from her, the further apart they grew. They had been due to start the journey to Aldor today but the collection caravan had not arrived on schedule and Commander Arthur thought it unwise to send scouts ahead. Especially with the number of wounded men on hand. No one wanted to talk openly about it, but Deswald knew they were all thinking the same thing, that they were up against a ruthless foe and would soon have to make the decision to abandon this village that now served as a rather lacking refuge.

  Deswald looked down at the blade he held in his hand, remembering how it had saved their lives but had left a strange looking scar beneath his thumb on the palm of his right hand. Maybe it was for that reason that he was feeling such a growing connection to it. He could not forget the powerful feeling he had felt when he had used it against the creature, and though something bothered him about what he had experienced, another part of him relished the power he seemed to possess with it. Was it sorcery or was it a gift of El bestowed upon him for such a time? He stared at the oddly shaped marking, now etched into his palm, curves twirling into each other like the heart of a storm. He had only noticed it after washing the blood of his enemies from his hands. It looked somewhat like the brand on the knife’s handle.

  Sir Drafer, his old mentor had informed him that the blade was Outlandish. Outlanders were supposedly an uncivilized race, that had been banished to the darkest side of Saharia, beyond the dark mist, but that was all he knew about the mythological people. A part of him wondered if they had somehow come upon them today. He sighed, yet again there were so many questions that he could not find the answers to.

  He heard Nyla ascending the ladder and shoved the knife back into his boot, before wrapping a cloth around his hand to cover the reddened scar. He got up from the stool and stooped to open the door to let her in.

  She climbed up and closed the door behind her. In the moonlight he could see the grim expression on her face.

  “How is Ben?”

  She shook her head, as she took up a spot on the floor of the small hut elevated on wooden pillars. There was only one stool and telescope, which Deswald was now occupying.

  “Better apparently,” she replied.

  Deswald arched an eyebrow at her grouchy response and she rolled her eyes.

  “He is angry at me,” she said with a sigh.

  “Well you did ignore him after he had been shot,” Deswald replied, glancing down at her briefly before returning his gaze to the moonlit expanse outside the village. He was grateful that they were out during the full moon.

  Nyla growled, “I did not ignore him. There was a lot happening, I had to prioritize the safety of everyone over the emotional comforts of one.”

  “But not just anyone Nyla. It’s Ben, the man you love.”

  He could feel Nyla’s angry glare on him, “He needs to understand that here on the battlefield, love is weakness. I cannot let my feelings for him cloud my judgment Deswald. You know this. Since when are men so hungry for the comforts of a woman when they are hurt?”

  Deswald shrugged, “from the beginning of time I suppose.”

  “That makes no sense to me Deswald.”

  “I know Nyla. You have had to fight for self-preservation for a long time. And now what you are feeling for Ben is telling you that it’s okay to relax and let your guard down. It’s okay to feel protected and safe. But that warrior in you is resisting it. You are resisting the comforts that Ben offers, and in your resisting, you are making him feel unwelcome.”

  “Since when are you an expert on love.”

  Deswald chuckled, “listen to me Nyla. You do not have to put up a fight against everything. It is okay to let go and relax and let someone love you. Ben is upset because you were not there for him but he is more upset that you are not letting him be there for you.”

  “Well I do not need him to be there for me, I can take care of myself.”

  “Ahh but it’s not about needing, it’s about wanting him to be there for you.”

  Nyla chuckled dryly, “you are talkative tonight.”

  Deswald nodded, “I just want you both to be happy. And also, I am trying to distract myself from the reality of our situation.”

  “You are worried that we will not be able to leave here. So am I.”

  “But we cannot stay here, this village’s defenses are in dire need of improvement. I am assuming that our final mission would have been to help reinforce it,” he shook his head.

  “I feel so bad for this village, and the men at the camp. If we had finished our quest sooner, maybe we could have helped them.”

  “Do not do that Deswald, you saw those creatures, maybe our late arrival here was another one of El’s mercies.”

  Deswald nodded, his thoughts returning to the strange man they had met as a result of Jasper’s directives. The old man had to be over one hundred years and he had words for each of them. Words that though were still unclear, troubled him given their current situation.

  “Do you ever think of that old man and what he said?” he asked.

  Nyla shrugged, “prophets don’t scare me.”

  “I didn’t ask if you were scared,” Deswald countered with a smile.

  Nyla looked up at him with those bright eyes, “of course I think about it,” she sighed as she repeated the old man’s words, “your wandering heart runs after your people. You will do well to steer clear of the path.”

  She shook her head, “My people’s path is one of death and captivity. I will never be held prisoner again. Do you think of what he said to you?”

  “Yes,” was all he said, turning his gaze back to the moonlit darkness.

  “Maybe you are right,” he added, eager to move away from the topic he had started, “we will have to make the journey back on foot, at least until we get out of this area. There is no way they’re letting that Caravan come here. Commander Arthur is only delaying the inevitable.”

  “Well of course, we do not know what we are up against.”

  Deswald nodded, “that is what frightens me, not an old stranger’s suspicions about me. What should frighten you Nyla, is not your past but your future. You have the man you love with you right here. I am praying that nothing happens to keep me from the woman I love. I am longing to look into her eyes again, to feel the warmth of her hand in mine and hear the melody of her voice. Do not take for granted what you two have in being able to share these experiences with each other.”

  Nyla chuckled, “you do not know when to stop do you?”

  Deswald grinned “you two are like my family, I want you both to be happy. You make him happy Nyla. Does he not do the same for you?”

  Nyla sighed, leaning her head back against the wood, “yes he does,” she finally confessed.

  “Then let him know that.”

  They settled into silent company as Deswald continued to keep watch and Nyla tended to her weapons. Nyla was known for carrying a wide array of weapons. In addition to her arming sword and a light-weighted shield which she would wear like an ad
ditional piece of armor on her back. She also carried two wide blade short swords, for one-on-one combat that fitted together into one leather sheath on her right hip. She also kept small knives in pockets on the insides of both her boots, a dagger on her belt, and every now and then she was known to procure an unexpected piece in dire times. The men on the quest had taken to calling her “the armory”. Coupled with her agility and quick thinking, Deswald knew she was a force to be reckoned with and that was one of the reasons he always wanted her by his side.

  Deswald ran his hand over his face and yawned, their shift would soon be over and he would try to get some rest; the day’s activities had taken its toll. As he snapped his eyes open against an involuntary droop, they caught a glimmer of light in the distance between the trees. Deswald frowned and leaning forward on the stool, reached for the telescope. The light disappeared and appeared again, this time it was more towards the open, peeking out over what appeared to be a boulder.

  “Nyla,” he said, “come see this?”

  Nyla was on her feet immediately, refusing to relinquish the short sword she was polishing. She leaned forward and looked into the looking glass.

  “Someone is out there,” she said.

  “Does that look like a signal to you?”

  She looked again, from where he sat even without the looking glass, Deswald could see that the light was appearing and reappearing from behind the rock, like someone was trying to get their attention.

  “It could be,” Nyla said slowly.

  “Someone’s out there.”

  “It could be a trap Des,” Nyla warned.

  “What if it’s not.”

  “Either way, all of our men are accounted for. Even the ones we lost. Are you willing to risk more of us for strangers?”

  She stepped back and looked at him hard, her question lingering in the small space between them.

  Deswald sighed, “you saw those things today. They are not like anyone we have ever encountered. Regardless of who that person is they do not deserve to be ignored and left to the hands of those monsters.”