The Broken Kingdoms of Osvolta (Kingdoms of Osvolta #1)

77. No Friend to The Crown

Chapter seventy-seven

No Friend to The Crown

T he Elysian Caldera loomed to the west. A great hulking blackness at the end of the Rialtus ridge. Solveig and Emmerich crossed ancient wooden bridges that still allowed passage over the rushing Cuprum River. It was the largest river in Torrelin, flowing down from the mountains at East Watch.

They walked in silence. Emmerich lagging, having refused the food offered by Mrs Tiansey in favour of setting out for the Keep sooner. He followed Solveig as she weaved her way through the dense wood. She moved through the trees like the whisper of wind, no map in sight, simply following her nose to their destination.

Watching her here, he could see that even after everything she had done in the name of bettering her kingdom, it was still etched into her soul. A piece she could never carve out. She glided across the moss, twig, and leaf strewn passages where he stumbled and sidestepped the debris awkwardly. He was too used to the drier landscape of Elithiend and its vast meadows. They had little woodland like this in his home, except for Mistfall, the mysterious forest to the south that no one could explain. It had lingered there for as long as anyone could remember.

“The mountain passage is just beyond these trees,” Solveig called back to him curtly, as though even giving him clues about where they were heading was a chore for her.

“And you can tell that how?” he questioned.

“I can feel it in my bones, like something is pulling me toward it.”

It was more than that, he suspected, a power as old as the dirt they trod on. Something that had been twisted and warped five hundred years prior and yet, without setting eyes on a map, he couldn’t be sure. It would have to be an old one, a map from before the fall of Estrellyn, something that most likely didn’t exist within the borders of Torrelin anymore.

As promised, they soon stepped out of the thick dark of the forest to be greeted by the slate grey, snow-capped mountains of the Rialtus ridge. They stood before the perilously tight passage that had been blasted through it at the base. Solveig bent to grab a discarded branch from the edge of the forest floor. Emmerich followed her lead. They approached the arched passageway that was bedecked in copper lining, each side adorned with sconces lit with the blue flame of elemental making.

“Even in the brightest days, the tunnels remain dark,” Solveig whispered, holding her branch up to the flickering blue flames. A faint breeze ruffled her hair, the chill raising gooseflesh across the prince’s arms as she continued,

“Light your way or risk an end you cannot pay,” she intoned, before ducking through the arch, disappearing into the blackness.

The prince felt as though a demon had stolen his sight as he stumbled on every fallen rock and unearthed root. The tunnel was endless, a terrible twisted place where one could be lost for eternity.

“You know,” Solveig called from where she walked with ease a few steps ahead, “I swear I can hear the doomed direction of your thoughts from all the way up here.”

Emmerich saw her glance back to him, her face glowing in the blue light like a phantom of his night terrors. “How can you see where you’re headed?” he grumbled, gaze falling to the floor again in a hopeless attempt to see the hazards lying in wait for him.

“Torrelin is my home, Prince, or did you forget?” she murmured, falling silent for a moment, the only sounds the slight echo of their footsteps and the crackle of flame.

“When you become a weapon in the King’s Guard, it becomes necessary to learn all the secrets of your land.”

“You expect me to believe that you, a coddled princess, grew up traipsing through these caves?”

“Of course not. I spent my formative years in the plush comfort of Erynmar Academy. I did, however, spend two months mapping these caves for the king before he shipped me off to the mines. Even then, I’m not sure I discovered every passage, but the main ones are burned into my memory now.”

Emmerich couldn’t believe that this place would not have been mapped before. A ridiculous notion, too obvious, a weak link in their defences.

“They were destroyed,” Solveig said, as though reading his thoughts.

“What was?”

“Most of our history before The Oracles ascension was burned, the maps of the tunnels included. Their creation harkened back to the…” She paused, swallowing. “The Seers,” she bit out finally. “Legend said they were created on their orders.”

“And in the centuries since then? No one thought it important enough to retrace them?”

Solveig scoffed at that. “Our enemies were burned, vanished, or trapped across the Strait. What need did we have to worry about hiding places for invaders?”

“Why now?”

“After my grandfather’s death, the king spent too many years holed up in that rotting keep. It’s made him paranoid.” Solveig shrugged. “He’s convinced your people infiltrated our communities and sort to shore up our defences.”

Emmerich knew the story. The death of the previous king was as ingrained in his life as it was hers because it also resulted in the death of his grandfather. The party at fault changed depending on who told the story.

“If he’s so paranoid, then why show me?” Emmerich questioned. “The enemy he desired to keep out?” Solveig’s footsteps halted up ahead as he continued.

“What makes you think I won’t run back to my king and spill my guts about this perfect place to hide weapons, an army even?” he pressed.

“This place would eat you alive,” she muttered, still unmoving, as Emmerich caught up to her.

“What…?” he began when she swivelled suddenly, covering his mouth with her hand, pulling him to the ground. Her other hand drifted to the dirt, drawing up any liquid she could; extinguishing their torches.

In the darkness that descended around them, the prince’s sight was completely cut off, heightening his other senses. He could smell the stench of mould ridden damp, and the soft floral of her. Could feel the wet earth soaking and staining his breeches and her skin so close to his as she moved nearer, bringing her mouth to his ear.

“Don’t move, don’t speak. If you must breathe, do it quietly and we may get out of here unseen,” she cautioned and Emmerich only squeezed her hand in silent response.

Something had spooked her, and he knew better than to question her judgement. Before long, he heard soft, squelching footsteps approaching from the west. As they drifted closer, so too came the murmur of voices. Her hand remained over his mouth as though she worried he’d give them away. Yet he could feel the steady beat of her heart at his back, so calm in the face of danger, a stark contrast to the racing of his own,

They stayed huddled in the shadows, the prince silently praying they wouldn’t be spotted. Solveig crouched with a hand already grasping the hilt of a dagger at her hip, ready to let it fly if necessary. Her eyes remained focused on the intersection she knew lay up ahead.

“You think it stretches all the way to the Caldera?” came one voice.

“Doubt it. Those demon worshippers wouldn’t leave this place unguarded if it led you straight to their heart.” Replied another.

A third voice, that of a woman, with an accent Solveig couldn’t quite place yet somehow sounded familiar, silenced the two men she travelled with. “We are here to survey and nothing more, you know the law.”

“Oh, come on, imagine how easy it would be.” The first said, “to bring this farce crashing down around them.”

“Then you’d bring about destruction to us all. They aren’t ready yet. We must continue to wait.” The woman hissed.

“We have waited for centuries. When will it be enough?”

“The time will come before you meet your end, Silas, of that I am sure, but until then, you cannot interfere.”

The voices faded to a whisper and finally silence as they passed by without ever sensing the two young royals lurking in the shadows. Solveig strained to hear more, anger simmering in her blood. Whoever these people were, they were no friend to the crown, the country, or The Oracle. She jumped to her feet as the anger continued to burn. It was the prince who pulled her to the ground this time, holding her tight against his warm, broad chest, whispering in her ear.

“I don’t care how skilled you are with those blades. Even you would struggle three against one with unknown powers at play.”

“I took down three guards in the sheeting rain escaping Luxenal,” she hissed back.

“And if I remember right, you almost died doing so. Against guards who you’d seen train daily for two years.”

“Would you be able to sit by as would be enemies to your way of life strolled on by?”

“I would play smarter, Princess. Whoever they are, they clearly pose no threat on their own.” He loosened his hold on her. “Whatever you decide. If this is the life you wish to return to? You need only have your king guard every known entrance to these tunnels to keep your people safe. Going after them now helps no one.”

Solveig slumped back against him, despite the loosening of his hold, still weak from her brush with death as the adrenaline fled her body. “If I live that long,” she muttered, feeling the prince tense beneath her at the words.

“You won’t die.”

Solveig chuckled, a dark and desolate sound. “I’d be dead already if it weren’t for your interference and we both know it.” She pushed free of him, brushing the dirt from herself as she stood, holding out a hand to him.

“Come on, we keep going straight and we should be out of here soon.” Once he was back on his feet, she turned to move forward, but the prince gripped her tighter. Pulling her back to him as they stood face-to-face in the dark. Close enough to see the other’s eyes in the shadows.

“You will not die,” he declared, bringing a hand to her face. “I won’t allow it.”

Solveig smiled, a forlorn expression as she leaned into his soothing touch, which held a promise she couldn’t accept. “My time was chosen long before we met, Prince. There is little that can be done to save me now. I have accepted that, and now I can only use whatever time I have left to stop this from happening to anyone else.”

Solveig pulled free from his grasp once more, shivering against the cold as the warmth of his touch fled her entirely. “Stay close,” she whispered. “We’ve nothing to light our way now, and the last thing my country needs is a war started in your name because you lost your way beneath the mountains.”