Red (The True Reign Series) Read online

  Suddenly, the shutters rattled from the howling wind. She never heard such loud, violent wind before. When she exhaled, the air turned white. It wasn’t the winter season yet, but it felt cold enough to snow.

  “Where have you been?” a young-sounding male voice asked.

  Startled, Rema looked toward the door. Being opened only a couple of inches, she was unable to see anything in the morning light of the gray hallway, but she could hear the male’s voice clearly as he stood on the other side of the door.

  “Helping my mother,” a second voice responded. It was Vesha. There was a soft shuffling noise, like fabric rustling.

  “You shouldn’t miss training. It needs to be your priority. Especially now.”

  “Lower your voice,” Vesha whispered. “Trust me, I know the importance of my training. But I’m tending to a patient. It’ll only be for a week or so.”

  The male voice chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress before. You almost look like a girl.”

  “Shut up, Savenek. My mother insists I wear this while tending the sick. Now get out of here. I have work to do.”

  He laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow at sunrise. We can get in a quick workout before you come here. No excuses.” A set of footsteps faded away.

  Rema threw back a half-dozen wool blankets, including a heavy fur one. When her feet hit the stone floor, she gasped from pain even though she was wearing socks. The floor was as cold as ice. Rema tiptoed toward the door, wanting to catch a glimpse of what was outside the room.

  She was about halfway there when the door flew open. “You’re awake,” Vesha said, stepping inside. Her cheeks had a red hue to them. “What are you doing? You can’t get up yet.” Vesha set down the tray of food she was carrying and helped Rema back onto the bed, covering her with the blankets.

  Rema propped herself up, her stomach growling.

  “I feel fine,” Rema said. “You have to let me out of bed at some point.”

  Vesha stared at her as if she’d sprouted an extra head. “Well, until my mother says it’s okay for you to walk around, you’ll stay there.”

  Rema sighed. Her legs were going to stop working if she didn’t get some exercise. This was insane.

  Vesha placed the tray next to Rema, went to the hearth, and added a couple of logs to the fading fire.

  “So,” Rema said, taking a bite of her porridge. “Who’s Savenek?”

  A log slid through Vesha’s fingers, falling onto the stone hearth with a bang. She picked it up and threw it into the fireplace. “Um,” Vesha stammered, while standing and pulling her sweater tightly around her body. “Why do you ask?”

  “Just curious.” Now that Rema was feeling better, she was noticing small things that seemed out of place. Like the fact that Vesha was wearing a heavy, thick wool dress covered by a sweater, a knitted hat, and gloves when the winter season hadn’t hit yet. And the food. Rema was fed nearly the same thing daily: bread, porridge, cheese, and meat. In other words, simple, bland foods.

  Not looking Rema in the eyes, Vesha said, “I need to check on a couple of other patients. I’ll be back in a bit.”

  Rema was tired of not knowing anything. Perhaps if she asked non-threatening questions, Vesha would open up and reveal something of importance. “How many sick people are here?”

  Vesha hesitated. “Well, there’s only one sick person. Most of the people in the ward are injured.”

  “Are you training to be a healer? To take over for your mother?”

  “No. But my mother needs the help. I’m only one of two that can do stitches and set broken bones. Until someone else takes an interest and learns, the duty falls to me.” Vesha finally smiled. “Why? Do you want to be a healer?” Hope filled her face.

  Rema had absolutely no interest in tending to those injured or sick. The thought of blood reminded her of Bren, and she shuddered, trying to block out the memories of his death.

  She focused on Vesha. “How are people getting injured?” Rema asked. “Are we near the mines? What town are we in?” Perhaps the brown leather gear she saw Vesha wearing earlier was for mining.

  Vesha laughed. “You must be feeling better. I don’t have the time to answer all of your questions, but don’t worry, Mako will explain everything when he returns.”

  ****

  The days quickly fell into a boring, predictable routine. Vesha arrived each morning with Rema’s breakfast, followed by a visit from Aunt Maya and Uncle Kar. Once Rema was cleared to get out of bed, Nulea allowed her to stand and walk around her room, but only when she was accompanied by someone else. After a simple lunch, Vesha always returned to spend the afternoon with her.

  Every time Rema was alone, she tried to get out of bed and walk around on her own. When her head was well enough not to cause her additional pain, she was finally strong enough to do it.

  At the end of the second week, Vesha watched while Rema got out of bed and sat in the wooden chair without assistance.

  “Well, I suppose Mother will say you’re well enough to leave the sick ward. I think your room is ready.”

  “Will I be staying with my aunt and uncle?” Rema asked.

  Vesha sat on the edge of Rema’s bed. “No, I believe Maya and Kar are leaving soon.”

  They hadn’t said anything to Rema about leaving. Why would they want to go anywhere? And why were they leaving without her?

  “I think they need to do something with their horses,” Vesha said, as if sensing Rema’s concern.

  Maybe they were getting Snow! Rema wanted nothing more than to see her horse. “I can’t wait until I’m well enough to ride. I haven’t been free to ride alone since that day Prince Lennek took me.”

  Vesha wrinkled her face in disgust. “Do you know why Lennek wanted to marry you?”

  Rema laughed. “No, I don’t. But I’m thankful I didn’t have to marry him. He was even worse than the rumors portray him to be.”

  “What about that boy you mentioned, Bren? Did you love him?” Vesha fidgeted with the corner of the blanket.

  Rema didn’t like talking about Bren. His death was still fresh in her mind. Glancing up at the wood-beamed ceiling, Rema tried to focus on a happy memory of the two of them and not his gruesome death—Bren riding his horse, trying to beat her as they raced through the forest, laughing.

  “Yes, I loved him. But only as a friend. At first, I was afraid to get married, to tie myself to another person. Now, I can see we would have been happy. And who knows, perhaps our friendship would have grown into that kind of love.” Rema remembered walking with him outside the horse pasture, when he told her why he wanted to marry her. Whispering, she said, “I think he already loved me.”

  “How could you tell?” Vesha asked, leaning toward her.

  “I don’t know,” Rema said. “It was the way he looked at me. I could feel it.”

  “Oh.” Vesha stared down at the blanket clutched between her hands, her cheeks red.

  “Is there someone you fancy?” Rema asked, suspecting that there was.

  Vesha’s eyes darted first up to Rema’s, and then quickly away.

  “You can tell me,” Rema said. “I promise I won’t tell anyone.” She moved to the bed, next to Vesha. She took Vesha’s hands and held them tight. “Sometimes it helps having someone to confide it. I have no one here. I’m hoping we can be friends. Even after I’m out of the sick ward.”

  Vesha squeezed Rema’s fingers. “I’d like that. But you can’t tell anyone.” Rema nodded. “There is someone, but Mother would never approve.”

  “Why?”

  “Mother insists I marry someone sensible. Like the blacksmith’s son. But he’s as dull as a doorknob.” Vesha shook her head.

  Rema laughed. “So who do you fancy?”

  Vesha let out a large breath. “I’d rather not say. I’m not sure he feels the same way for me. We’re friends, but I think that’s all.”

  “When I get out of here, you will have to point him out to me. I’ll watch how he l
ooks at and behaves around you. Perhaps he is interested, but he’s shy.” Rema wondered if it was the boy she heard Vesha talking to in the hallway. What was his name? Savenek?

  Smiling, Vesha said, “I don’t know about shy. But he’s never fancied anyone before. He’s so focused on training that he doesn’t have time for anything else.”

  “What profession is he training for?”

  Vesha abruptly stood. “I need to check on another patient.” She hurried away.

  As the door closed, Rema’s thoughts drifted to Darmik.

  Prince Darmik, Commander of the King’s Army. Handsome, confusing, and infuriating. At one time, she thought he loved her. Then when Lennek saw them kissing, and Darmik acted like he didn’t even know her, Rema knew she was a part of some sick joke concocted by the brothers. Otherwise, Darmik would have said something or helped her in some way—not looked at her with hatred and disgust.

  “It almost worked,” he had told her. She wasn’t sure what he was referring to. He never contacted her once while she was imprisoned in the dungeon. When she saw him at her sentencing, he still looked at her with hatred in his eyes. And he had backed Lennek up, agreeing that she had acted treasonously, which led to her being found guilty and sentenced to death.

  Technically, she did kiss Darmik while engaged to the Crown Prince. Or, Darmik kissed her. In theory, the act could be considered treasonous. However, at the time, she was being forced to marry Prince Lennek. And Lennek was sleeping with half of the women at court—both courtiers and servants alike. So, in Rema’s eyes, she wasn’t guilty.

  The kiss was beautiful and stirred feelings inside of Rema that she never felt before. Darmik must not have felt anything; otherwise, he wouldn’t have allowed her to be executed. Instead, he sat atop Nightsky, watching Rema on the gallows with the noose tied around her neck. If he loved her, he would have fought for her.

  But then she was rescued, and Darmik let Mako flee with her. What did that mean? Was it simply so he could track the rebels? Frustrated, Rema stood and stretched. It didn’t matter, she told herself. That chapter of her life was over. It’s not like she had a future with Darmik anyway.

  She would take the memories of their time together and hold onto them. Now she needed to forget the hurt and anger and move on.

  The howling wind slammed against the wooden shutters. Listening for voices in the hallway, Rema didn’t hear any. She rushed over to the shutters, placing her hands against them. They were freezing cold and violently rattling. She unclasped the lock and they flew open, almost smashing her nose. The wind whipped across Rema’s face, making her gasp and her eyes tear.

  The fortress had to be old, since the room didn’t have a glass window, especially in this weather. Rema moved against the wall, and then carefully glanced outside. It was like the building was suspended in air—there were clouds below her. Where in the kingdom was she? Holding onto the ledge, Rema looked straight down against the building. Directly below, she saw the tops of trees shrouded in clouds. Rema grabbed onto a shutter and threw her body against it, pushing it back in place. After slamming the other one closed, she quickly locked them together, her hands numb with cold.

  It was time for answers. She wasn’t going to sit in the room any longer waiting for Mako to return. Her body had recovered enough to move about, and everyone insisted she was safe there—that she was no longer a prisoner. She should be allowed to move about freely.

  Rema went to the door and placed her hand on the brass knob. Taking a deep breath, she pushed it open and stepped out into a dark hallway.

  Darmik

  Darmik and Neco lay on their stomachs, camouflaged with leaves, observing the small village town below them.

  “Nothing out of the ordinary,” Neco commented.

  “Yes,” Darmik agreed. “When the First Company arrives later today, I suspect they will be stationed just north, over there, in that open area.”

  “Do you want to use this town as our marker?” Neco asked.

  “Yes,” Darmik said. “We’ll start climbing the Middle Mountains here.” This was the village where he’d found his horse. Darmik was sure they were in the vicinity of where the rebels entered the mountain range.

  No trails were visible. The forest was dense, but the ground was clear, and traveling over the terrain would be fairly easy. Darmik slid away from the edge overlooking the village. When he was certain he was out of eyesight, he stood.

  “How do we know where to go?” Neco asked, scanning the massive mountain range looming before them. Everyone knew the stories about the infamous, rugged terrain. No one lived there. The steep mountains were so large that they disappeared into the clouds.

  “We don’t,” Darmik said. “That is why it’s just the two of us. We need to move quickly if we want to pick up the rebel’s trail.”

  Darmik doubted there was one—the man had proved to be more than competent. But he was sure he could figure it out. He just needed to think about what he would do in the rebel’s position.

  They gathered their sacks, slung them over their shoulders, and began their journey into the mountain range where no one came out alive.

  ****

  At first, the terrain was easy. As night neared, the land steepened and the ground turned rocky. They were still surrounded by thick, tall trees. Confident they were well hidden, the two set up camp for the night.

  The next day, after a quick breakfast, they continued. The trees began to thin, and the ground turned to solid rock. They walked at a brisk pace the entire day, having little conversation.

  The friends journeyed for several days, steadily climbing north. Now Darmik knew why the rebels left his horse at the village. It would have been near impossible for one to travel over this terrain on horseback. But how did the rebel carry Rema? Darmik knew he was missing some vital piece of information. Something was wrong.

  “Having doubts?” Neco asked, as they were forced to use their hands to aid in climbing. All trees vanished, and it looked like they were in a wasteland. No wonder people claimed no one lived up here. It seemed there was nothing to sustain life.

  “Maybe we should travel a different direction, instead of going any higher,” Neco said.

  Darmik grabbed onto another rock, pulling his body upward. His hands ached. Luckily, he wore leather gloves, but his fingers were still blistered and sore from climbing.

  “Let’s find a place to stop and rest,” Darmik said. He swung his left hand up, grabbing ahold of a sturdy rock, hoisting his body higher. There was no way the rebel traveled this way, especially with Rema. Maybe Neco was right; they should focus on another direction instead of going any higher. “Neco?” Darmik called after hearing the tumble of many stones.

  Neco didn’t respond.

  Darmik twisted in order to see his friend below him. Neco hung by his right hand, his body dangling against the rocky mountain.

  “Don’t move,” Darmik said as he climbed down next to Neco.

  “No intention of going anywhere,” Neco said between clenched teeth. “Just be careful. When I went to grab on, the rock shifted.” His face was red from straining to keep his grip.

  Darmik maneuvered his body just below Neco’s and slightly to the side of him. The rocks in this particular area felt loose all of a sudden.

  “Any chance you can hurry?” Neco grunted. “My hand is about to slip, and I’d very much like not to bounce against these rocks to my death.”

  Sweat trickled from Neco’s face.

  Darmik found two sturdy areas for his feet. After wedging them in, he leaned his body against the rocky mountainside and released his hold. Moving carefully, he raised his arms. When he was confident he had his balance, Darmik took hold of Neco’s ankles.

  Neco let out a sigh of relief. His hand slipped from the rock, and the full weight of his body rested in Darmik’s hold.

  “Whatever you do, don’t lean back,” Darmik grunted. “Keep the front of your body against the rocks.”

  The air felt th
in and scarce. Darmik’s arms shook. He couldn’t hold this position much longer. But he wouldn’t let his friend die.

  “Now, very slowly, find two rocks to grab onto.”

  Neco’s body was shaking. Taking a deep breath, Darmik focused on keeping his friend alive. He wouldn’t let go or allow him to fall. It was Darmik’s responsibility, and he would see him to safety.

  “Okay,” Neco said, “I’ve got a good grip. You can let go.”

  Darmik released his friend, and then found his own rock to grab onto.

  “I strongly suggest we find a spot to make camp for the night,” Neco said.

  “I agree.” Darmik and Neco had been in some close calls before, but this one was a little too close. All the strength drained from Darmik’s arms. The terrain ahead would most likely only get worse. “Let’s go back down until we find an area to rest.”

  Without further conversation, the pair backtracked down the steep rocks. After about an hour of climbing through hard wind, they found two large boulders with enough space between them for Darmik and Neco. They decided to use that area for the night. It was too small to lie down or build a fire, but it provided enough room for them to sit side by side. And that was all Darmik wanted right now—to be on solid ground, even if it was only temporary.

  ****

  When Darmik awoke, the wind howled around him and he was freezing cold. Pulling his knit hat over his ears, Darmik suddenly understood how ill formed his plan was. He was so wrapped up in finding the rebel and Rema, that he actually jeopardized his friend’s safety.

  Neco sat, eating some beef jerky. “Thanks for saving me yesterday,” he said. “I really thought that was it for me.”

  “No problem,” Darmik replied. Staring out into the sky, it felt as if they were suspended in air. “I suspect we won’t get very far in this weather.”

  “A storm is definitely brewing.”

  Darmik knew Neco was waiting for him to determine their next move.

  “Just say it, Neco.”

  “What?” his friend innocently asked, masking a smile.

  “That this is crazy,” Darmik said.