A Stolen Crown

A STOLEN CROWN

by

Jordan Baker

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents and events contained herein are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Other than historical characters, any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright 2013 by Electrum Press and the Author.

All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without express permission of the publisher.

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Nook Edition: April 2013

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CHAPTER ONE

The sunrise cast a soft yellow glow through the room. The sheer white netting around the bed gave everything a misty look and he opened his eye a little further. She lay next to him in the thin sheets, perspiring slightly from the heat. His nose piqued at their mingled scents rose as she stirred slightly under the covers. Feeling a warmth that came from more than the heat of the room, he moved closer to her. His eyes closed contentedly as her arms instinctively wrapped around him. His head came to rest against a warm, soft breast, lulled to sleep by the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.

*****

“You have to stop passing out like this.”

Aaron heard soft laughter and he opened his eyes to find Ariana laying beneath him, cradling his head on her chest. Aaron looked up and saw the princess looking down at him. He realized that he was somewhere warm and dry then he noticed that he was unclothed and so was she. In a panic, Aaron tried to get up but the pain spiked in his head and his vision blurred; he was as weak as a kitten and could not move. He gave up and collapsed, exhausted.

“Are you all right?” he asked, keeping his eyes closed for a moment, wincing from the pain before it finally subsided.  Aaron opened his eyes again and looked around.

They were sheltered under a wall of evergreen branches and a small fire crackled at the edge of their shelter. Through the gaps in the walls, he could see that several handspans of snow had already fallen and it did not look as if it was going to let up any time soon. A horse blanket separated them from the ground and they were covered in their coats and a few blankets that Ariana had rescued from the wrecked wagon. She had her head leaned up slightly on a large cushion that had only been slightly charred around its edges.

“Yes, I am perfectly fine, which is more than I can say for you. You were out for two days this time.” She smiled at him sadly and rubbed her arm. “Thank you, by the way. It turns out you do know a bit of magic, don’t you?” He shrugged, or at least attempted to.

“I tried. I was worried. You weren't doing so well." Aaron did not want to tell her how close to death she had been and he was relieved to see her looking so well. He did notice, however, that she had her face turned away from him, so he could not see the side that had been burned.

“I don’t know how you did it, Aaron, but it must have took some effort. Calthas told me it would be very difficult for you to use your power, and painful. Does it still hurt?”

“Not as much now," he said with a slight shrug, making light of it, even though the pain had been almost unbearable. He looked again at the rough roof of green needles, impressed that the princess had known how to build a proper hunting shelter. He also noticed one of his swords, the one he had taken from the thief, covered in tree gum and green needles, but decided not to say anything about it. “It feels different now that I can feel it, like a kind of flowing feeling deep inside my thoughts.”

"Yes, that's exactly it," she said, smiling. "Calthas told us you had power in you. I'm sorry it brings you such misery, Aaron and I hope that one day you will be able to use it without pain. It is truly a joyous feeling, calling forth power like that."

"I see you have been busy, building a house," Aaron commented, changing the subject; the thought of touching his power made his head hurt even more.

“Yes, I did the best I could. I'm sorry about your sword, but I needed something to cut branches with,” she said. “There was no telling when you would wake up and we needed some kind of shelter. I hope it's okay.”

"Yes, it's fine. It is a proper hunting shelter," he told her. "It might not be the kind of palace you are used to, but it is certainly better than freezing to death in the snow."

She brushed his hair from his face. “I’m just glad you’re okay. Are you warm enough?” she asked, pulling the blankets over them both and snuggling him closer to her, which made him all the more uncomfortable, yet he had never felt so comforted before in his life.

“Yes, thank you,” Aaron said. He was completely helpless in her arms and it was all he could do to keep his eyes from closing. He was so exhausted.

“Good, lets hope you don’t have to do any more healing or use any kind of magic," she said. “In the meantime, we’ve got to find a way out of here. The snow is falling fast and pretty soon there will be no way out of here until the spring thaw. We have another problem, as well." Aaron raised his eyes to look at her. “No horses.” Aaron remembered his leg and stirred again.

“My leg, it’s…” He stopped when he noticed that his leg no longer hurt and realized that she had probably healed him. Ariana smiled tiredly at him.

“You’re not the only one who knows a few tricks.”

Aaron was glad she had healed the wound on his leg, but what were they to do? He did not think he could walk or even stand if he tried. And even if he could, it could take weeks or longer for them to walk out of the mountains, and that was assuming perfect weather. He groaned quietly to himself as he thought of their predicament.

Ariana reached over and threw another piece of wood on the fire from the little pile she had made next to the makeshift bed. The flames crackled as the wet wood hissed and sizzled. Aaron stared at the fire. The wood looked familiar and he recognized that the firewood had come from the remaining pieces of the wagon.

“I gathered what things I could find,” she told him. “We can get the rest tomorrow, if you're feeling up to it." Aaron took a deep breath and looked around the small shelter a little more carefully. She had covered them in both of their clothes. Her rich and beautiful gowns were strewn atop them amid his heavy riding clothes and the clothes he had gotten from the armory in Maramyr. The thought of the city made him shiver as he thought about how the soldiers had betrayed them. It angered him that they could swear an oath to protect and defend the country and its nobility yet they could do such a thing.

Ariana felt Aaron shiver and worried that he might be cold so she nestled in closer to him and held him tight. He had risked his life for her and put himself through what must have been terrible agony trying to heal her. Ariana was able to read his mind a bit more now and she could sense the cracks in the magical block. The ward was terribly strong, she could feel, and it hurt her to feel its power though it did not react to her the way it had to Calthas. And to think that she had thought he was dangerous not so long ago. Perhaps he was, she thought, but she knew he was loyal to her. His eyes looked so very tired and he lay there silent as she stroked his thick, sandy blond hair. She watched the tension in Aaron’s forehead fade as his eyelids slowly slid closed and he fell asleep, the first real sleep he had in several days.

*****

The next day they awoke to find themselves almost trapped inside their makeshift shelter by snow so thick they were practically buried. Having rested somewhat, Aaron felt a little better and was well enough to walk around. Still, the snow kept falling and gave no sign of letting up. It was a mountain snowstorm, which could last for days so they decided that they would try to find a better shelter and wait out the storm. They raided the wagon for the remainder of the supplies and anything else that might keep them warm then they scouted the area together, looking for anything that might afford them more protection than the rough tent Ariana had built, three nights before. The snow was already knee deep and difficult to traverse. Still weak, Aaron was forced to rest many times before they could continue their search.

Finally, Aaron grew so tired that he could no longer walk and Ariana took him back to the small shelter she had built and helped him light a fire. She told him she would keep exploring and that he should rest until he was better. Aaron protested that he only needed a short while to regain his strength, but she insisted that she would be fine, that she may have grown up in a palace but she had made a point of learning everything she could from the best rangers in the Kingdom. Aaron sat by the fire resting and cursed his weakened state until he heard the Princess calling out for him. He looked up as she appeared at the entrance to the shelter.

“Aaron, I’ve found a place,” she told him. “Its perfect.”

Aaron pushed himself to his feet and followed her along her tracks in the snow. A short distance away, the steep hill they had fallen from merged into a wall of rock that sheered off into a small cliff. An outcropping of rock showed up dark against the new snow that had covered most of the branches. Ariana led him around a large tree and off to the side of the rock. On the other side, Aaron saw a crack in the face of the cliff at its bottom.

The opening was easily large enough to walk through if Aaron ducked his head and Aaron noticed that, once inside, it was surprisingly dry. He also saw that the crack in the cliff-face was still visible overhead and even let in some light that filtered its way deep into the cave. Good, he thought to himself, judging that it would draw away the smoke from a fire. Ducking past an outcropping of rock, Ariana led him to a small cavern. Surprisingly, it stretched back a fair ways and the ceiling was high.

“What do you think?” She held out her hands, smiling widely. Aaron smiled back.

They soon had a fire burning brightly, made with some extra sticks and small pieces of wood they had scavenged from beneath the snow outside. After warming up again, they returned to the shelter and began transferring their belongings to the cave. Once that was complete, Ariana led Aaron to where the remains of the wagon was buried under the snow.

They spent the next few days raiding the wagon, digging out whatever they could and scouring the area for any useful items that might have fallen out when it had crashed. The best find, apart from the few bags of dried fruit they had left, was a small axe, some pots and a huge iron skillet. Moving through the snow that kept getting deeper and deeper was difficult and, even though Aaron felt his strength returning with every passing day, they both collapsed into bed every night, exhausted from their exertions.

*****

There was a short knock on the door to the small workshop. The afternoon was cold and the wind howled through the cracks in the windowpanes and Calthas glanced nervously at the door. He had not been expecting any visitors and with the spells he had set long ago on the shop, no one should even accidentally be able to find the place. He had nearly gathered all of his things and would be leaving Maramyr this night. Worried that luck might be against him, he picked up a quill he had imbued with a defensive spell several days before. If the person knocking at his door was a mage, they would not hear him reach for his power.

Carefully, he opened the door to discover a man, cowled in a dark grey cloak, his hood pulled over his head, obscuring his identity. It was not until he stepped inside that the man pulled it back, revealing his face.

“Do you know who I am?” the mage Stavros asked, his eyes blazing with a cold light. Calthas stepped back a bit. He had seen Stavros only once, many years ago and he had thought the old mage to be long dead.

“Yes, of what service can I be, um …Lord?” the younger wizard stammered. The man gave an impatient grunt.

“You can offer me some tea, or perhaps something stronger. And drop the ‘Lord’. The Council of Mages hasn’t met in a generation,” Stavros told him and pulled his hood to his shoulders, walking into the room. Calthas quickly cleared a few books off the second chair by the fireplace. He snapped his fingers and the log that had been burning down flared back to life. Calthas began rifling through a cupboard near his work desk. Finding what he was looking for, he brought a bottle back to where Stavros had seated himself by the fire. Calthas dusted off an extra cup from the mantle and offered the elder mage some of the strong sweet liquor from the bottle.

“Many thanks, Calthas.” Stavros said, sipping from his cup but only after Calthas had done so first. He cast a glance at the packed bags next to the young mage’s desk. “You are wise to leave Maramyr, but I think you still have a moment to sit and drink with me before the Priesthood comes knocking at your door. I have but a few questions, then we can both leave this foul city.”

Calthas took another sip from his cup and felt the strong liquor burn its way down his throat.

*****

“It’s better rain than snow, yes?” Fergus laughed as the cold water turned the loose dirt into sticky mud around their feet. “But it’s some cold, even so!”

Brian pushed the shovel into the dirt and scooped away more of the mud from between the roots that had grown their way across the ground near the large tree that towered overhead. Fergus resumed hacking with his axe at the strong roots, clearing them away from the heavy stone door was now visible behind the last gnarled twists of living wood.

Satisfied that enough earth and growth had been removed, Fergus ran his hand along the rain-soaked stone and found the mechanism he knew was supposed to be there. He pushed the stone block and, after some trying, it finally moved. A resounding thud could be heard behind the large stone as it began to retreat into the hillside, revealing a dark tunnel. More dirt was knocked loose and Fergus grabbed the shovel from Brian began to clear it away from the entrance.

“This must be always free and clean or the stone’ll not be moving. I’m not the one to fix it,” Fergus told him and called over his shoulder. “Torch!”