Azurite (Daughter of the Mountain Book 1) (18 page)

“Aye, My Prince,” she answered automatically.  “That is plenty of time.”  She watched his small eyes travel to the crown on her head.

“For as much wealth and jewels as your country possesses, you sure don’t show it off much.”  He pointed to her crown that was a plain circlet of gold with a small diamond in the middle of her forehead. 

“I’m a land owner of royal blood and wear more gems than you, mostly imported from
your
country and passed down through my family.  You’ll find it’s a symbol of status in Cara, and it’ll show the Misou you’re entitled to their servility.  There’s still a lot you have to learn about the south.”

“Misou?” Zora asked, unfamiliar with the term.

“They are the slave class of Cara.”

“Slaves?  I didn’t know slavery still existed in our Realm.  In fact, I can’t believe the Sovereign Alliance would allow such an abominable act to even exist.” 

Zora turned around and watched the road behind her.  Numerous men and women, clothed entirely in black, marched alongside the Carian nobility.  The woman toted bags or lead horses while the men held up the palanquins in which royal women sat.  The slaves’ heads were completely covered; as if they were as insignificant in this world as the dirt they walked on.  Zora didn’t even know slavery was still practiced, and now she was going to be a Lady to an entire land full of them.

“Of course the Sovereign Alliance knows about it,” Spencer replied.  “The annual summit is held in Idenborough every year.  They see first hand what it takes to make Cara prosperous.”  Spencer snickered softly to himself.  “Besides, you’d be surprised what you can get away with by providing the Chancellor of Rienne with a little extra incentive.”

Zora remained silent, chewing the inside of her cheek.  She knew better than to provoke Spencer by asking questions, but she did so anyway.

“My Prince, do you not believe that every person should receive equal respect and opportunity, regardless of caste?”  Spencer didn’t seem thrown off by her question and continued to stare straight ahead.

“Give me an example of any country in our Realm who was not risen to greatness by the work of slaves.”

“Why Samaria!” Zora exclaimed.  “We ourselves were slaves to the Nomans once, and we learned from their mistakes.  My ancestors discovered that if all Samarians were given the opportunity to rise among the classes of society based on their own self-interests then they would have more incentive to work harder and be more productive.  Hence the reason Samaria is such a flourishing country.  Our citizens see the fruits of their labor instead of being forced into submission.” 

Zora bit her lip waiting for Spencer’s reaction.  From the little she knew about him, he didn’t like women who spoke their mind.  Instead of appearing angry, Spencer began laughing at her.

“Obviously your mother kept you in the dark about a lot of things,” he said through chortles.  “Samaria is on the brink of collapse because Queen Evangeline doesn’t know how to manage her people and her resources.  How could you not notice?  It was like a ghost town walking through the streets of Alumhy when we came in.  This only proves the Winnser family’s idea of egalitarianism is a complete failure.”  He laughed again and shook his head, his ponytail slapping the back of his shoulders as he did so. 

Brink of collapse?  I knew the mines were in trouble, but I didn’t know it was that bad,
Zora thought flustered. 

“I guess that’s the significant difference between our countries,” Spencer continued.  “Social hierarchies are very much defined in Cara, as they should be.  But don’t worry, as soon as we get to Montanisto, we’ll fashion you a new crown deserving of a Carian Lady.”  His eyes moved down her throat to the hourglass pendant hanging above her chest. 

“And what’s that?” he asked.  “It’s a rather plain trinket, don’t you think?  I’ll replace that as well, with one of more opulence.”  Zora’s hand went to her necklace protectively.

“My Prince, this pendant has sentimental value.  I’d like to keep it.  Surely you can understand that.”

“If you like,” he responded.  “By the way, did you obtain that diamond gem piece I asked you about last evening?  For my wedding token?” 

He does remember some things from last night.
  Zora thought proudly. 

Even though the previous evening was such a mess, she was happy that her brewing talents were better than she’d thought.
 
Unfortunately, Zora had completely forgotten about the promise of his wedding token, but it’s not as if she’d had a lot of time to secure such an item anyway. 

She looked up, and Spencer was staring at her expectantly with wide eyes.  Zora was about to tell him she’d never intended to get the gem piece, but the young woman suddenly remembered she still had Loral’s brooch tucked away with other personal belongings in her bag.

“Aye, My Prince.  I did bring such a gift.  I can give it to you now if you’d like.”

Spencer looked as excited as a child getting a honey cake, so she turned around and rummaged through her belongings before finding the brooch.  She dumped it out of the pouch and handed it over to him.  Spencer picked it up between his thumb and forefinger to examine it, put it close to his eyes then far away.  He ran his fingers over the gold engraved design.

“This isn’t a diamond,” he announced crossly.

“No, it’s not,” Zora admitted.  “It’s something far better.”

“There is
nothing
better,” Spencer seethed, his face tight with coming anger.

“This is azurite, My Prince.  It is an
extremely
rare gem.  I assure you there is no person in the Realm who has a piece quite like it.”  Spencer looked extremely skeptical, so she continued on.  “What makes it so unique is that it’s too hard to cut, even harder than a diamond, therefore gem piece makers are reluctant to buy them.  And they are very uncommon.  Our miners had to dig deep and far into the mountain just to secure such a small stone.”  She picked the brooch up out of his hand and moved it around in the sunlight to showcase its beauty.  Spencer thought about it for a moment.

“I guess this will have to do,” he agreed, slightly convinced.  “Since no one else in the Realm will have anything like it, it’s got to be worth a decent amount.”  He grabbed the brooch back and pinned it to his coat.  Zora sighed to herself, relieved she’d won Spencer over for the time being.  Azurite was honestly rare in gem piece form, but she’d seen plenty of it used as parchment weights in the advisors’ offices.

              Spencer had gone silent, so she glanced at him from underneath the hood of her traveling cloak.  Although not an overly attractive man, her betrothed had an air of confidence and regality about him that commanded respect from others.  For as much as she disliked him, almost Zora felt jealous of his traits. 

              “Will you tell me a bit about Montanisto?  What does it look like?”  Zora was eager to change the subject.

              “Well, it’s always hot,” he replied.  “And the humidity is so thick, it’s like a second skin.  The land is low and flat, quite opposite of here.  To the north we’re bordered by Carian prairie and to the south is nothing but swampland.”  He shrugged.  “I guess that about sums it up.” 

Zora gave him a blank stare.  It all sounded miserable, but hopefully the disappointment she felt didn’t show on her face.  Then again, Spencer didn’t seem like he wanted to get to know her well enough to tell when she didn’t like something. 

              “Dakota!” Spencer called out.  The soldier came trotting up behind them.  “I have to go convene with our hired scouts,” he told him.  “Please continue to escort Lady Winnser safely.”  He caught Zora’s curious gaze at the phrase ‘hired scout’. 

“A handful of essential roads throughout the Realm have been destroyed due to the rain storms,” he explained.  “They are unfit to travel, so we’ve hired scouts to seek out detours.  No worries though.  They got us here successfully enough.”  He gave Dakota a knowing glance before nudging his horse in the sides and rode off to the group of men in front of them.

Zora’s muscles tensed up.  She was reluctant to be left alone with Dakota.  He had a spiked mace fashioned to a belt around his hips and a sword strapped across his back.  Further inspection revealed a rather large scar that ran from his left ear to his jawbone where a chunk of skin was missing and poorly healed.  Zora wondered where Dakota had obtained such a horrendous scar.  For all she knew the Realm was at peace, save for the couple of attacks on Samaria’s border by the Nomans over the last few years.  She didn’t plan on asking him.

“Dakota, do you mind helping me dismount?  I’m not accustomed to riding horseback for so long and it’s quite uncomfortable.”  She stopped in the road while others kept on passing her by.  Now that she wasn’t obligated to entertain Spencer, her mind was free to think.  It was at this moment she remembered Milo.  As each member of the caravan passed by her, she scanned their face looking for Milo.  So far, she hadn’t been able to locate him.

He said he was coming with me to Montanisto and Milo wouldn’t lie. There has to be a flaw in my truth telling brew.  That’s the only explanation.  He’ll be here.

“My tutor was suppose to come with me,” Zora explained to Dakota as she craned her neck and scanned the passer-byers.  “He’s an elder man, frail looking, with white hair and blue eyes.  You might have mistaken him for a vagrant by the way he dresses.  Have you seen such a man?”  Dakota looked at her like she’d just asked him if he’d seen a dragon.

“No,” he grumbled.  He grabbed the reigns of Zora’s mare and continued forward, leading her horse with Zora treading behind on foot.  When Dakota wasn’t looking, Zora hopped on the back of a wagon being pulled by a pair of mules.  She was grateful for the free ride as she dangled her legs over the side and listened to the spring wind ruffle her hair. 

She faced her country from this direction and was able to watch as Mizra’s elegant design on the mountainside grew smaller and smaller in her vision until it could no longer be identified.  Dark mist hovered over the Anion peaks that rose sharp and daunting in the sky, each slope overlapping the other in the distance.  She basked in Samaria’s beauty and breathed in deeply, trying to find a hint of Alumhy’s aromas lingering in the air so she could stamp them in her memory and take them with her to Montanisto.

Zora gripped the sides of the wagon tightly as it bumped and groaned over the unstable road out of Samaria.  With Arianna displaced and Milo’s current whereabouts unknown, a heartbroken Zora grieved silently by herself as she left her homeland, having never felt so isolated from anything in her entire life.

***

              Milo rode silently on horseback among the caravan of foreigners that were leaving Samaria and heading back to Cara.  Fortunately, the direction they were traveling mirrored the path Milo had to take to reach his final destination, which lay in close proximity to Montanisto.  He had Zora in his sights for while and was able to watch the interactions she’d had with Spencer and his soldier, Dakota, both of which put him on edge.  Her head eventually disappeared, lost in the sea of people, but Milo could still feel her presence close by. 

              Sariel walked stoically next to him.  His arms swung in perfect rhythm as his bare feet moved along with dirt road.  Nothing could sully the Guardian.  One would never find a piece of dirt or any other impure particulate touching the humanoid.  That was just one of the insignificant nuances that made his kind so unique.

Despite the people surrounding them, Milo had taken measures to obscure their presence from wandering eyes.  He had to constantly keep flowing Ithillium to keep them out of sight.  In any other situation, Sariel would’ve protested the practice claiming it was deceptive and therefore a lie, but in the case of Commoners, it was a necessary measure.

              “You’re keeping something from me, Warden,” Sariel expressed, breaking the silence between them.  “The block on your mind feels like a splinter in my foot.”  He didn’t look over at the Warden but continued to stare straight ahead as he walked.  Milo sighed, displeased that he wasn’t able to keep his predicament with Zora private like he wanted.

              “I have a situation,” Milo admitted.  “I’ve been going over it in my mind, trying to decide if I should tell you.”

              “If it’s something you feel the need to keep from me, it’s probably something you shouldn’t be dabbling in anyway,” Sariel replied.  Milo rolled his eyes.  Sometimes he wished the Guardian would act more…human.

              “Not everything is black and white.  That’s not the way the world works.” 

But deep down, Milo knew the Guardian was right.  “Zora, the Samarian heir, revealed to me last night that she’s been having unsettling dreams lately.  Visions would be a better way to describe them.  She claims she’s unable to ascertain if it’s all in her mind or if it’s truly happening to her.”

              “What’s so unusual about this girl and these dreams that you feel the need to keep them from me?” Sariel asked calmly.

              “Well, she says that it’s a man who comes to her and lures her out of her sleep.  Last night she showed me evidence that she’s actually had contact with him.”  Milo glanced over to Sariel.  “It was a mark.  At first it appeared like bloody handprint scarred right across her abdomen, but then it faded revealing something underneath.”