Azurite (Daughter of the Mountain Book 1) Read online

  The maidservant decided not to answer, but no more words were needed. A feeling of understanding passed between the two women. For the first time in a long time Arianna felt a rush of sympathy for the young woman under her care. The Princess of Samaria was as fierce as a bull and rarely showed any emotion beyond indifference towards anyone, including her best friend. But Arianna knew she was always hurting, in more ways than one, and took that into consideration every time Zora’s tough nature got the better of her.

  Zora quietly observed the Carian pages flying the orange and yellow country banners that displayed the Carian crest: a curved scythe underneath a gigantic sunburst. Columns of soldiers, ten abreast and ten deep, armed in full battle attire marched up to the castle. The King was riding a white stallion, and following him were several more men that Zora assumed were other Carian royalty.

  They wore bright orange capes tied at the neck with a ruby broach. Orange tunics of satin draped lazily over their bodies, with raised embroidered designs decorating their chests. All wore boots of brown leather that reached their knees while black trousers bloused out over them. The Carian noble women were carried in on litters covered by delicate sheers to keep out the stormy rains. The Castle Guards of Mizra slowly opened the great gates to the fortress, allowing the remaining groups of Carians though and into the dryness of shelter.

  As the last of the orange Carian ribbon disappeared inside, Zora was surprised to see another formation of people arriving behind them. There was about a two hundred total, and every single one was garbed entirely in black. Zora could tell the first half were men, and they wore breeches, boots, and a robe tucked in at the waist. A black veil covered their heads and faces so only the whites of their eyes remained unhidden.

  The women were similarly dressed except they wore shapeless black dresses and headscarves. A veil of black mesh material covered their entire face so not even their eyes could be seen. Zora watched as the downpour increased in intensity, drenching this strange group of people as they were forced to stand in the cold wind and rain while the other Carians were welcomed into dryness and shelter.

  Zora turned to Arianna to say something about it, but she had already rushed to close the wooden shutters as raindrops began pelting the side of the tower. The chamber was suddenly doused in darkness. Quickly, Arianna lit the candelabra next to Zora’s bed until a soft glow filled the room. Zora stood up from her seat feeling exhausted and completely depleted of life itself. Unbeknownst to anyone other than herself, Zora felt this way most days.

  My mother has been coming and going from Samaria for weeks, returned without telling me, and now the King of Cara and hundreds of his people are filing into Mizra unannounced. What’s going on!

  “Arianna,” Zora called out. “Will you have a bath drawn for me? I need a moment to clear my head. And summon Milo to gather some fresh lavender leaves from the greenhouse to put in the water. Tell him I’m sorry about missing my lessons, and ask him if we can meet later today instead.”

  She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, thinking of the sweet smell of fresh herbs and flowers. She had only been awake for an hour and already the events of the day, and the unexpected visitors, were overwhelming her. She needed time to think and regain her composure.

  “With pleasure, My Lady,” Arianna responded. “It’s not as though I can clean up your mess in the darkness anyhow.” With that, she was out of Zora’s chamber, doing her bidding with complete loyal obedience. The young princess smiled to herself.

  ***

  Within the hour, Zora laid immersed head to toe in a lavender scented steam bath.

  Milo wasn’t too happy about her oversleeping their lessons, but he would rather meet with the young noble later than never. The clapping of the thunderstorm seemed to have traveled further away from Mizra, over the rolling hills in the distance. Zora made it a priority to take advantage of this time to herself since it gave her a chance to analyze the events that had occurred that morning.

  Her scar began to ache deeply, and the woman groaned in pain. She had to get control over whatever unnatural sickness was plaguing her. She looked down at her toes floating in the water and couldn’t help but linger on the pinkish scar that covered a portion of her midsection right above her hip. It was a perfectly proportional scar, with two separate concave curves set atop an elongated circle. Sticking out of the circle were three triangular prong shapes that faded away into her skin. To Zora, the injury didn’t look so much like a scar as it did a branding. Some days the damaged skin was red and searing hot, while other days it was almost flesh tone and barely noticeable. Gingerly, she moved her thumb over the scar and held her breath in anticipation of pain, but she felt nothing. As she lounged there in the cloudy steam, she was unexpectedly interrupted by a dainty rapt at the washroom door.

  “Lady Zora?” a voice asked through a crack in the door. “It’s Ashley, Queen Evangeline’s maidservant.” Zora sat up quickly in the iron tub, sloshing a bit of soapy water over its side in an attempt to rapidly cover her nakedness. The servants of Mizra had no discretion when it came to privacy, and she half expected a parade of her mother’s servants to enter the bath chamber.

  “Yes, Ashley,” she answered quickly. “What is it?” No one entered, but the servant spoke through the door.

  “Queen Evangeline requests an audience with you as soon as possible. Shall I send a response?”

  Zora paused in surprise, not expecting the Queen to have any sense of urgency to speak with her. She never had before. Zora prematurely concluded that nothing positive could result from this.

  There was another rapt at the door, this one more persistent. “My Lady?” Zora sighed, bringing her hands to the nape of her neck and massaging lightly as the trepidation of seeing the Queen was already causing her tension.

  “Tell her I’ll be there right after sunset,” Zora replied curtly. Sighing, she laid back in the tub, slowing drooping into water until it completely submerged her. Closing her eyes and blocking out the world around her, she let the feeling of weightlessness coil around her. Hopefully the Queen’s servant had heard her reply; Zora didn’t wait for a confirmation if she did.

  ***

  After her bath, Zora felt much more refreshed and mentally alert. Arianna had laid out a simple dress for her and combed the knots from her hair before sending her to her lessons. Her scar still ached like a thorn in her side, but Zora had learned to push through it rather than let it inhibit her daily activities. Milo was already waiting inside the library for her when she arrived, and his look was serious but not angry. On the table were several books, maps, an astrolabe, and a star chart. Her instructor had even taken the liberty of bringing in hot coffee and sweet biscuits for them to munch on before dinner. Zora slinked into the chair at the table, feeling herself flushing pink with shame.

  “I’m sorry, Milo,” Zora apologized before he said anything. “I overslept, and Arianna had to wake me. I promise I wasn’t being indolent.” Milo’s taut wrinkles lessened a little bit as he took the seat across from her.

  “Are you feeling alright?” he asked.

  Zora was busy pouring some coffee and nodded her head that she was. Some of the hot liquid poured onto the table, soiling the parchment. “I think so,” she said. “Maybe I overdid it yesterday in the mines. I was down there for a while. I even ran into Master Leatherby.”

  “Oh? Did you find anything worth while?” Milo asked curiously.

  Zora thought back to the strange cave painting of the winged monster with millions of eyes and gulped hard. She didn’t want to tell him about such a frightening sight because she wasn’t even sure that’s what she saw. With only the light of a lantern to go by, the mind can play tricks on itself.

  “I found some new runes,” Zora answered. “I’m beginning to learn how to construct the language through the sounds. And I can write basic things as well. I know it’s antiquated and useless, but I still think they are beautiful.” Zora shrugged to herself.

  “U
se the tome well, my dear. One can never know too much, for one’s knowledge of useless subjects may come in handy one day. But we have two days of lessons to make up, so be prepared to work hard.”

  Milo reached around to the bookcase behind him and pulled out an encyclopedia on the subject of herbalism. “Have you been studying the healing properties of the plants in your book?” he asked as he opened the encyclopedia to his desired page.

  “I have, and experimenting with them as well.” Zora thought back to the mess in her bedchamber. Perhaps she was taking on Milo’s lessons and the healing of her own insomnia a little too intently.

  “Good. Now tell me the healing properties of cinnamon bark,” Milo began as he read from the page.

  “Cinnamon is used to promote good digestion. Helps relieve nausea and vomiting,” Zora answered studiously. Milo nodded then used his finger to choose another herb from the book.

  “Chamomile?”

  “Prescribed for anxiety and helps relieve the pain of childbirth.”

  “Parsley?”

  “Tonic, diuretic.”

  “Valerian?”

  “Sedative.”

  “Snakeroot?”

  “Deadly,” she said cautiously, and Milo nodded.

  “Moonflower?”

  “Moonflower isn’t an herb.”

  “I know. But can you tell me what happens if its accidently ingested?” Milo asked. Zora thought hard, although Milo already knew she had the answer.

  “Uh, upset stomach, vomiting, asphyxiation, eventual death by poisoning,” Zora replied slowly.

  “And?” Milo pushed.

  “And what?” Zora replied shortly. “I don’t know.”

  “Severe hallucinations,” Milo said severely, as if she should already know that.

  “Oh,” Zora answered, and her face fell. “Does anyone actually use it for that?”

  “Some of the older tribes of Wayanee use moonflower for religious rituals. There are a lot of plants out there that have similar properties, in addition to the medicinal ones. I want you to be aware of which ones are good and which ones you should avoid at all costs.”

  He was leaning in towards her, and his crinkled eyes drilled into hers until she moved about restlessly in her seat. “I want you to promise me you’ll stay away from such plants. There is a fine line between it affecting your mind and it killing you.”

  “I will,” Zora responded simply, but the old teacher was looking at her as if her promise wasn’t enough for him. Did he know about the garden she was growing on the Shoulder? How was that possible? Even though Milo was her teacher and friend, Zora wasn’t going to admit to him she’d been harvesting experimental plants and brewing them in her bedchamber. She was doing that to retain her own sanity against her nightmares. He wouldn’t understand. After a minute of silence from her he just sighed.

  “Well, I can tell you’ve been studying at least.”

  “All the hands on experience in the greenhouse has helped,” Zora replied. “Why are you quizzing me on these things?”

  “Because the more knowledge you have, the better off you will be. Even when it comes to things you think are mundane.” Milo placed his wrinkled elbows on the table and put his chin in his palms. Zora grabbed one of the snack biscuits and was nibbling on it like a bird. She savored its subtle sweet buttery flavor while they mused silently together.

  “Did you see the Carians arriving this morning?” Zora asked suddenly. Milo looked as though he didn’t want to discuss Mizra’s new visitors, but he answered anyway.

  “I didn’t see them, but I sure heard them. They’re a rowdy lot, and the soldiers a bunch of undisciplined ruffians who enjoy their ale far too much.” There was acid in Milo’s voice as he spoke of them.

  “Why do you suspect they came?” Zora asked. She reached across the table and pulled out one of the maps that Milo always made her study. She opened it up and scanned the geography of the lands, moving her finger along the different boundaries of the seven countries in the Realm. Cara was all the way at the bottom, far away from Samaria. This revelation made Zora’s intrigue of the Carian’s visit increase substantially.

  “Do you think they came for trade?” Zora asked. “Because I know Samaria has been suffering lately with our commerce. Alumhy use to be bustling with patrons and merchants going about their business, but every new spring, when the snow finally melts off of the roadways, less people come to visit.” She looked at the map again. “What does Cara export?”

  “Sugar and molasses mostly. But also cotton and hemp.”

  “Well, I don’t see what use Samaria would have for such things,” Zora surmised. “Maybe there is some unrest in the politics of the Realm, and the King of Cara is coming to call my mother to the annual Sovereign Alliance summit.”

  “The annual summit isn’t for months. All of the Realm’s rulers are part of the Sovereign Alliance except for Nomanestan,” Milo responded. “The Kings of Cara, Trisdag, and Rienne, the elders of Wayanee, and the Magistrate of Brighton. Unfortunately, your mother has not been very involved in the dealings of the Sovereign Alliance since she took the throne. It has caused quite a rift between the rulers of the Realm, but it’s not as though Queen Evangeline is practicing totalitarianism within Samaria’s borders. Trade is welcomed by the Queen, and I think that’s the only reason why she has gotten away with being so isolated and difficult.”

  “What do they do exactly?” Zora asked.

  “Ensure the wellbeing of the Realm,” Milo said simply. “They refuse to deal with those who attempt to upset the unity of the lands and are quick to retaliate if they feel the need to. Personally, I’ve never been fond of the Alliance, but it has its benefits.” Milo looked outside the window and studied the beginnings of dusk. “But what do I know. I’m just an old man.”

  “And one of the best people I know,” Zora responded warmly. “Can we review the maps for a while, Milo? Until I’m required to go see my mother. I want to memorize all the country names, capitols, and important places within them. You never know where your path will lead you. Right?”

  So the teacher and student sat in the library until evening fell outside the window and their candles were nearly burned down to the wick. Zora bid her dear friend a farewell when it was time and exited Mizra’s library. She looked both ways down the long, empty corridors of the fortress’s interior, hearing the gruff laughter of soldiers coming from the mess halls. She dreaded going to see Evangeline, but took off in her mother’s direction knowing she had no other option.

  Chapter 5

  Zora strolled grudgingly through Mizra’s maze of corridors, shuddering with unease as she walked along, for the amazing grandeur of Mizra could become rather frightening in the stealth of night. After treading down the circular staircases leading out of the library, Zora found herself in the vast expanse of open foyers on the ground level, that, when daylight permitted, were usually buzzing with activity.

  The enormous vaulted windows now peered down at Zora as she passed, watchful gazes that were becoming dreary and darkened with the quick movement of night. Colossal blue stone columns reached up far into the shadowy upper levels. Royal tapestries hung like women’s neck scarves, thick and heavy, between each cylindrical pillar. Outside, the city of Alumhy glowed like thousands of tiny campfires, wide awake against the shadow of the gray mountains. Wisps of storm clouds still hovered above sprouting packets of raindrops every once in a while, but it would be clear by morning.

  Zora had taken as many back-ways as she knew possible through the castle, wanting to avoid any confrontation with the Carian visitors that were occupying some of the guest quarters. None of these foreigners would guess her of noble blood, not the way she was dressed. They’d probably mistake her for nothing more than a young servant, and it was rumored by many of the Samarian girls that soldiers from the south liked to tease and have a bit of harmless fun with them, but Zora was definitely in no mood for their jests.

  Finally, she entered the lower southe
rn wing of Mizra where her mother’s chamber was located. From a distance, Zora could make out only one guard perched outside her mother’s chamber door. In the darkness, he looked like nothing more than a whimsical statues holding up a gleaming spear. She nodded briefly to the guard before continuing past him to her mother’s doors.

  At the end of the short hallway was a diamond shaped vestibule with Evangeline’s chamber door set back on the right. It was an impenetrable wooden door with a rounded brass knocker. Zora paused in the diamond shaped room, briefly studying the monstrous illustrations of the Sea Dweller Wars that were painted on the stone walls in the foyer. It was a constant reminder that only a couple of centuries before the birth of Zora, savages from Nomanestan violently invaded her country at a time when it was much more primitive and defenseless than it was now.

  Zora was suddenly distracted by the orange glow from the chamber’s fire seeping out from underneath the door crack. Quickly, she smoothed her blonde hair, tucking loose strands behind her ears, and pinched her cheeks so she wouldn’t look so pale. She knocked once, and a muffled response echoed immediately. Zora breathed in deeply and opened the door.

  The first thing Zora saw when she entered was her mother sitting sideways at her vanity. She was staring intently in the glass mirror as she applied a glossy scented oil to her skin. Her sharp blue eyes focused on Zora’s reflection in the mirror as she entered. The young woman remained glued against the closed door across the room, afraid to move an inch without her mother’s permission.

  “Zora,” Evangeline said listlessly, leaning back in her chair and staring at her daughter in the mirror. “What took you so long, child? I sent Ashley up there to summon you hours ago.”

  Evangeline took her eyes off her daughter and resumed her pampering. Zora hesitated for a moment before tiptoeing over to a footstool at the edge of her mother’s bed. She took a seat, not saying a word.