The Key (5 page)

The tentative peace that besotted the kingdom for the previous decade was rapidly fading. During the past year, Darmik saw a shift from a quiet, obedient kingdom to one on the brink of war. People were hungry; times were bad. Darmik wanted a strong presence to intimidate the local populace, and in turn, keep control. He even made an example out of a few civilians. Yet, when his father refused to listen to reason and continued to raise taxes and oppress the governors, of course the people rebelled. There was only so much they could handle, and only so much Darmik could do
to keep the peace.

Darmik and his men entered the city from one of the many side s
treets. There were several wood buildings, all built side by side with no room in between. Each structure was rundown with missing windows and peeling plaster. Most were two stories tall, housing several families.

The
horses’ hooves echoed on the cobblestone roads. It was quiet—too quiet. Darmik glanced in the windows and down alleys, looking for people, wondering where everyone was.

A
fter several blocks, Darmik estimated they were close to the center of the city. He guessed that’s where people were gathered. Darmik made sure he kept a two-block buffer from the town square and then headed north, parallel to it.

A
sound erupted, a hum similar to a swarm of bees. The humming grew in volume until Darmik realized the noise was a crowd of people. The noise came from the main street to his right. Passing a crossroad, Darmik saw several people standing at the end of the street. They looked like merchants and workers crammed together, trying to hear what someone up ahead was saying. Dismounting, Darmik jogged down an alley and peered over the heads of the crowd to discover who they were listening to.

In the center of the town square,
a man in his fifties with clean, snug-fitting clothes was standing on a wood crate. Obviously, he wasn’t starving like so many around him.

“It
’s time for change!” the man yelled. “Is your family suffering from hunger?” he continued. “Are your living conditions insufferable? Are you working hard but giving your earnings away to the
king
?” Everyone screamed “yes” in agreement. “I ask you this—what
right
does the king have to even be ruling us? Why does
he
decide how
I
live?” The crowd cheered. The man raised his hands to quiet everyone down.

“
Civilians, do you remember
before
?” Silence fell over the people. No one ever talked about
before
. “The rightful rulers were just, fair, and listened to the people. We had a say.” Everyone around Darmik mumbled to one another. The speaker continued, “There wasn’t an army patrolling our lands, threatening and killing the people. We weren’t branded and tagged like animals.”

Darmik slowly backed up and rejoined his men.
The horses were skittish, sensing the crowd’s tension.

“Let’s get moving,” Darmik said, mounting his horse. “I want to be at the governor’s before the
crowd disperses.”

It
became quieter the further they traveled from the town square. Off to the left was the town’s market, but the shops and vendors were already closed for the day. A scrawny dog ran between two carts, and then disappeared.

“What’s that?” one of the soldiers asked, pointing up ahead.

A dark-brown blanket covered a lump on the side of the road. A little girl, about five years old, was sitting next to it. When Darmik got closer, he saw that the girl was filthy, her face smeared with black ash, dress torn, and bare feet caked with dirt. The child moved part of the blanket away, and a stiff hand fell out from underneath.

Darmik dismounted and knelt down. The heavy
, brown-wool fabric covered a woman in her twenties. Her face was sunken and white—it looked like she was dead.

“Please,” the little girl cried
. “I’m so hungry. Do you have any food?” She clutched the dead woman’s hand.

Darmik wanted to wrap
the child in his arms, to comfort and protect her. If she wasn’t taken care of and fed some decent food, she’d starve to death, too.

Not wanting to scare
her, Darmik said in a soothing voice, “We have food, child. Do not fear.”

He crouched next to the woman and felt her wrist. Sure enough, there wasn’t a pulse
, and her skin was cold.

“
Feed the girl,” Darmik instructed his men. One of his soldiers pulled out the rest of his bread and cheese and handed it to the child.

She
quickly snatched it from him and bit into the bread. “Thank you,” she mumbled as she chewed.

“Is there someone to care for you?” Darmik asked.

The girl looked up at him
. “My mum,” she said, pointing at the body next to her.

Did
n’t she know her mother was dead? The woman appeared to have died earlier in the day or late last night.

There was no reason for
civilians to starve to death. If the king didn’t collect so much money in taxes, maybe they could afford to feed themselves. Darmik’s arms shook with rage. He remembered the feast he shared with Lennek at Lord Filmar’s.

A door slammed
on a shack near the road, and an elderly woman hobbled toward him. “Get away from her!” she shouted with a mouth missing teeth, waving her frail arms about. “Move it! We don’t want no trouble here!”

“Do you know
that person?” Darmik asked. The child nodded. He patted her on the head. “Be a good little girl then, and go with her.” He tried to smile, but couldn’t. He didn’t have any money on him, or he would’ve given it all to the child. He prayed she would be safe with the elderly woman. He prayed she wouldn’t starve to death.

“Let’s go,” he said to his men.

When they arrived at the governor’s residence, Darmik slipped in through the servants’ entrance and found an empty room. Only after he cleaned and changed into his commander’s uniform, did Darmik make his presence known. The steward immediately escorted him to the governor’s office.

“
Prince Darmik, thank you for coming so quickly.” Lord Lemar gestured to the chair opposite his desk. Like most of the governor’s offices, this one was ornate with a rare greenwood desk, intricately carved with hunting scenes. Books surrounded the walls, separated by paintings and statues. A large, square window revealed the vast mountain range in the distance. It was open, allowing the cool, fall air into the room.

Darmik sat and
studied the man. “Did the taxes increase again?”

Lord Lemar
rubbed his face, tired. “King Barjon demanded a ten-percent increase. I had no choice but to pass the cost on. Another increase and I fear there’ll be nothing you or I can do to fix this mess.” The governor looked like he had pale purple bruises under his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept in days. He was skinnier than the last time Darmik had seen him.

After any increase
in taxes, it usually took the people a few seasons to adjust. But this was the second increase this season. Either the people would all starve to death, or there would be a bloody civil war. In either case, the outcome would be disastrous. Did the king not understand this?

“I’ll make it known that I’m here,” Darmik
said. “I’ve already requested two platoons from the Third Company. They should arrive tomorrow. You won’t be able to go anywhere without seeing a soldier.” It was the best he could do for now.

Lord Lemar
nodded. “Is there any way you can talk to King Barjon?”

Darmik almost laughed.
He had no sway with his father. “I control the army,” he said. “I protect the king and prince. Politics—now that’s another matter entirely.” He shifted in his seat.

“Speaking of the prince, rumors
say he’s ready to settle down. Many hope that it’s true. It might restore some faith in the crown,” the governor meekly replied.

That was the one thing his father was never able to gain—the loyalty and respect of the people.
King Barjon ruled by fear, and many hoped that once Prince Lennek took over—and if he married someone from Greenwood Island—things might get better. Not that many had faith in Lennek, but there were no alternatives. Perhaps he was the lesser of two evils.

“I have
n’t heard anything,” Darmik responded. “But I’ve been away from King’s City for several weeks. I’m sure as soon as things are settled, an announcement will be made.”

The idea of Lennek marrying caused Darmik to shudder. Pity the girl
who had to deal with his temper and wild ways. Lennek would never settle down, regardless of being married. Darmik was more than done with this conversation; there were more important things on his mind.

Rema

Rema
had been out riding Snow, trying to clear her mind. A certain prince who wielded a sword for a living insisted on invading her thoughts. She couldn’t believe she’d run into him twice. Down by the river he had been dressed in plain hunting gear, giving no indication of his rank. Then at the governor’s, Darmik had on a tunic revealing his marks. She’d never seen a royal person’s tattoos before. Darmik’s were black swirls, almost like dancing flames, which covered his lower neck and shoulders. The points were accentuated by silver and blue, giving the marks a regal air to them. And on his wrist, he didn’t bear the black region mark like everyone else on the island. Instead, on his forearm, he had a silver sun with a blue crown wrapped around it.

But perhaps the most intriguing part of
Darmik was the fact that he’d been to Emperion. Rema couldn’t imagine traveling by boat to a foreign kingdom. The experiences he encountered had to be exciting. If only they’d had more time to talk. But what was she thinking? It was insane to indulge in such notions. He was a prince, and she only a commoner.

Taking
off her dirty clothes, Rema slipped on a dress like all the others she wore. They were plain, long sleeved, floor length, and either brown or gray depending upon which fabric was not only the sturdiest, but also the cheapest. Aunt Maya made all Rema’s clothes and there was never any deviation in their design.

While tying her dress, Rema glanced around her simple, modest room. T
he walls were bare white without any decorations. There was a small bed adorned with a brown quilt. She also had an armoire and dresser, both with plain hardware. Rema’s favorite part of the room was the window overlooking the horse pasture. Watching the beautiful animals always calmed her mind.

Someone pounded on the front door. It was probably Bren. Since their betrothal, he diligently came every afternoon once his work for the day was complete. Uncle Kar no longer permitted Rema and Bren to ride horses or take walks alone, which was silly because nothing inappropriate was going to happen between them. They were just friends. Rema couldn’t think of Bren in any capacity other than friendship. But Uncle Kar didn’t agree, and Rema and Bren were forced to sit in the house, usually accompanied by Aunt Maya.

Their supervised visits were awkward. Often times, Rema had no idea what to even say to Bren. When Rema told Uncle Kar it was ridiculous that they be watched at all times, he simply said that she was engaged now and proper etiquette needed to be followed. Still, she’d been alone with Bren before, what was the difference now?

Rema
peeked in the mirror—her hair was a mess. It was pulled together at the back of her head, but the wind from her ride had tousled it, making it stick up in various places. She laughed, thinking that she almost looked like a wild flower with her face the center and her hair the petals. She pulled the tie from her hair, and braided her blonde locks. Now presentable, it was time for her visit with Bren.

Walking down the hallway, Rema heard Aunt Maya
speaking to a man whose voice she didn’t recognize. She hurried to the sitting room, hoping everything was fine.

“Absolutely preposterous!” Aunt Maya yelled. She st
ood at the front door, reading a piece of paper. A man dressed in a uniform bearing the royal family’s emblem and colors, stood outside. “This is appalling,” Aunt Maya said, her arms trembling.

Rema
approached and put her hand on Aunt Maya’s shoulder, trying to steady her. Aunt Maya shook her head ever so slightly, and then threw the paper at the man. “She’s not going anywhere with you—especially unescorted. It’s illegal.” Maya slammed the door, pursing her lips.

The man yelled, “I
am here to escort her. And let me remind you that it is illegal to disobey a royal summons!”

“
I don’t care,” Aunt Maya angrily whispered.

“
Who was that man, and what did he mean by royal summons?” Rema asked.

Aunt Maya
mumbled, “What are we going to do?” She massaged her temples and paced around the small room. With Aunt Maya’s hair pulled back in a tight bun and her skin suntanned with age spots, she suddenly looked fragile and older.

“Are you
well?” Rema asked, reaching for her aunt’s hand.

I
nstead, Aunt Maya embraced Rema in a tight hug. “Kar will know what to do. How we can fix this.” Maya released Rema and ran out the back door, slamming it closed behind her.

Rema was shocked
. Her aunt and uncle always obeyed the law and were careful not to draw attention to themselves. But Aunt Maya had told the man that “she” wasn’t going anywhere. Rema wondered if the “she” Aunt Maya had referred to was Rema, and if so, how did she fit into all of this? The man, still standing outside, slid the paper under the door. After Rema heard him walk away from the house, she picked up the paper and read it.

She
was astounded—it was a royal summons addressed solely to her for a dinner party hosted by Lord Filmar in honor of the visiting Prince Lennek. The invitation stated that the prince specifically requested her presence, and she was to arrive unaccompanied. Rema couldn’t believe the audacity of Prince Lennek. He had to know she was only the niece of a merchant and engaged—the paperwork had already been delivered to Lord Filmar for approval. Everyone knew the law: once the marriage contract was signed, the woman could no longer go out in public alone. Yet, Prince Lennek didn’t care. It went in line with what she had heard about him—he got everything he wanted, he was spoiled, and had no idea how to rule a kingdom. But what were his intentions with her?

Sitting on a chair,
Rema tried picturing what a dinner party at the governor’s would be like. She imagined everyone in fancy dresses, dancing. There would be lively music, food, and people laughing—just like a scene from a book.

The back door slammed shut
. Aunt Maya entered, carrying an armload of white fabric. She sat down next to Rema.

“We need to talk
.” Aunt Maya’s voice was firm, her hands fidgeting with the material.

Rema knew
the fabric was for her wedding dress, and suddenly she didn’t want to talk. Her legs itched for movement.

“
I’ve just discussed matters with your uncle. The marriage bonding will take place in one week,” Aunt Maya said matter-of-factly, keeping her eyes focused on the fabric.

“Why so soon?”

Clearing her throat, Maya avoided the question and said, “We need to sew your dress. I’ll never finish if you don’t help me.” Aunt Maya bit her lip as if she wanted to say more but couldn’t. She busied herself opening the sewing box and rummaging around inside. Finally, she pulled out a needle and thread, handing it to Rema.

So this was it then? No discussion, no explanation?
No mention of the summons? Were they going to ignore it? Rema reluctantly threaded the needle and took the fabric Aunt Maya shoved at her.

“This used to be my dress,” Aunt Maya explained. “It should fit you, but we need to let the hem down and fix the sleeves.”

After some brief instructions,
Rema began sewing. They sat in silence. Aunt Maya shoved the needle viciously through the dress, snapping the thread. Rema decided she’d wait and talk to Uncle Kar about this new decision. As awful as the idea of marriage was to Rema, at least it was to someone she genuinely liked and respected. And Bren would treat her well. It could be worse—a lot worse. Rema still had no idea what her aunt and uncle weren’t telling her, and she didn’t dare ask about the summons she snuck a look at.

Not paying attention to what she was doing,
Rema stabbed the needle into her finger by accident, drawing blood. She really disliked sewing. Working with horses was much more preferable.

Threading
the needle, Rema began hemming the seam. She wished she could do something physical instead, like run to her cliff and dive into the bone-chilling water below. Hopefully, Bren wouldn’t prevent her from going into the forest alone once they married. She had never told him about jumping into the Somer River because he would never understand.

“What’s that sound?” Aunt Maya asked.

Thundering hooves resonated through the house, growing louder with each passing second. Rema wondered who it could be because Bren’s family didn’t own a carriage. Aunt Maya jumped up and ran to the window, moving the curtain aside.

“
I want you to leave. Right now.” Aunt Maya’s voice shook. “Wait.” She ran to the fireplace, removed a small stone from the hearth, and pulled out a red velvet pouch. “Take this with you.” Maya opened the pouch, revealing a delicate gold chain, baring a skeleton key with a heart-shaped ruby diamond at the top of its cylindrical shaft of solid gold.

Aunt Maya carefully placed the
beautiful necklace into Rema’s hand. “Put it on. It is a precious family heirloom.”

Rema
curled her fingers over the treasure, feeling the weight of it in her palm. She was about to ask why Maya was giving it to her when she saw her aunt’s ghostly white face. Aunt Maya’s eyes were tense and narrow—the panic clear.

Throwing her s
ewing aside, Rema put the necklace on and grabbed her riding boots. She slipped out the back door, sprinting to the stables.

Despite having little money, Uncle Kar managed to keep the barn impeccable. It was a tall
, white, wooden structure about eighty-feet long. There were four rows of stalls, for a total of twenty-four. They kept their personal horses along the east wall, and the horses they were raising and training along the west.

It was hard falling in love with the horses, only to
turn around and sell them once they were fully trained. Rema never knew who bought their horses other than the governor. Uncle Kar was always quiet about his business transactions. Rema never understood why.

She ran in
side the stables, the familiar smell of hay immediately calming her. Jogging over to Snow’s stall, Rema found Uncle Kar feeding the horses—a chore she enjoyed doing. She lifted her saddle and threw it on Snow.

“
Are you going for a ride?” Uncle Kar asked, filling up another bucket, eyeing his own horse.

“No, Aunt Maya insisted that I leave.
Immediately.” Rema tightened the girth strap and put on Snow’s bridle. Snow pawed the ground with his front hoof, eager to ride, sensing Rema’s tension. She rubbed his nose and gave soothing words to calm him down.

Uncle Kar’s face turned whiter than
Snow’s coat. He involuntarily nodded. Even from the barn, they heard the riders approaching.

Stepping closer, he lowered his voice and asked,
“Do you remember the special place I showed you?” He noticed Rema wearing the necklace and slipped it under the neckline of her dress, out of sight.

“The cave?”
Rema lifted one foot to the stirrup. She always wondered why they had a secret place, but over time, had learned not to ask questions and just accept it as normal.

“Do you remember where
it is? How to get there?” Uncle Kar asked.

S
he swung her leg over Snow’s back and mounted. “Yes.”

“Go there and wait for me. Don’t come home until I meet you. Do you understand?”
His cheek twitched—something it did when he was worried.

Rema nodded
, riding Snow to the exit. Uncle Kar swatted the horse, and it bolted out of the barn.

Lying low, she heeled
Snow, pushing him to a full gallop. Glancing back, she saw Uncle Kar running from the stables to the house. In less than a minute, Rema was shielded by the thick greenwood trees.

Rema never ran into anyone
in the forest. Well, except for Prince Darmik, Commander of the King’s Army. But other than that one time, she was always alone when she rode in the woods. The sound of horses rapidly approaching was so strange that it took her a moment to react. She caught a glimpse of royal-blue against the backdrop of the green forest. Royal-blue—the king’s colors. The royal summons. Disobeying an order.

Veering
Snow right, they quickly climbed a hill toward the secret cave. Rema hoped her aunt and uncle were unharmed. They should have left with her.

“Rema!” a man yelled. “We know you’re out here! You are hereby ordered to return with us to your
residence!” The voice echoed in the forest.