by Bone, K. L.
It had been then that Mathew had turned to the woman who, even nearly a century later, was still hailed as the hero of both Courts, and asked her to be his Queen.
“Come with me, Mara,” he had said. “Stand by my side and help me to build a better Court, to be a better ruler than the ones we once served.”
It had taken several moments before Mara answered. “Mathew, you don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Yes, I do. Just think, Mara. We have a chance to build a Court better than the ones we once served. We can protect our men and their families.” He offered a smile. “It will be everything we ever dreamed of. We can—”
“Mathew, wait.”
“Think about it. We could create a Court that honors the old traditions. Where the men and women you have vowed to protect would finally be safe.”
Mara turned to face him. “And tell me, my Lord, in what role would you have me cast within this Court which you describe?”
“Why, by my side, of course.” He took a step closer. “I would see you made a Queen.”
“Queen,” Mara clarified, “to your Kingship?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry, Mathew. I cannot do that.” She matched his gaze fiercely.
“Mara,” he responded, “I would offer you my heart, along with my kingdom.” He lowered himself to one knee before her. “Please, my Lady…be my Queen. I will give you control of the kingdom. My rule will be in name only, to your leadership.”
“It’s not about that, Mathew. Don’t you see?”
“Is it about love? Rest assured, Mara, I love you.”
“But I don’t love you,” came her quiet response.
“What?”
“Mathew,” Mara started again, “I am sorry if I have mislead you in any way. But I…” She forced herself to meet his gaze. “I cannot do as you ask.”
He stared at her dumbfounded for several moments. A glimmer of realization dawned and he looked at her incredulously. “Could it be?” He shook his head in disbelief. “You are still in love with Edward.”
She did not deny it, only stood silently, the pain showing only through her violet eyes.
“Even after what he did to you? After all he put you through. After he…” Mathew took a step closer to her. “He cannot love you, Mara. You know that he cannot love you. He is incapable of it.”
“Still,” she answered. “I cannot give you what I do not have. I cannot love you when my heart resides with another. I’m sorry, Mathew. I cannot be your Queen.
“Cannot?”
This time she spoke more in anger than pain. “Don’t you think I want to say yes?” She drew a sharp breath. “What a pretty picture you paint. A Court where we are free to rule as we see fit. A way to protect the men without the isolation, the pain that comes with being a member of this guard? To be happy? Believe me, Mathew, if I could give you what you ask, I would. But…you ask for what I cannot give.
“You by my side? Helping me to protect the people from the wrath of a Queen you despise?”
“But that is not what you are asking for.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No. You are asking for my heart, Mathew. You will be satisfied with nothing less; nor should you be. And I have no heart to give.” She drew another deep. “If it is any consolation, I would love you, if I could.”
“Mara, please.”
She offered a thin smile. “Goodbye, your Majesty.” She offered a slight bow. “May you lead your people with the grace of the Gods and the same honor with which you have served this guard for so long.”
That had been the last time he had stood alone in a room with Mara. He had left the Black Rose only days later with Regald by his side, ready to take his place as the Captain of the Arum Court Guard after the coronation. Now, five hundred years later, Mathew again stood at odds with the Black Rose Captain over the same issue that had ruined his plans all those years ago. With Mara, it always came back to Edward. The love that consumed her—which she could neither embrace nor escape, accept nor deny. He had watched it consume her for centuries, a flame burning through her with agonizing ferocity.
Yet, after what happened the night the Muir Court fell and the six hundred years of self-inflicted separation, Mathew had hoped that Mara might, at long-last, have banished the Ciar Captain from her heart. Mathew gave a deep sigh as he reached the door of Jayden, one of the Sub-Captains of the Arum Guard. He knocked only once before entering to find Jayden sitting before a large desk. His bronzed skin was far darker than the King’s. His short hair was cropped close to his skull.
As Mathew entered, Jayden gazed up from his paperwork and immediately stood to bow before his sovereign. “Arise,” the King instructed, motioning for Jayden to return to his seat before moving closer to the desk. “It’s time,” the King stated.
Jayden looked up uneasily at the King. “Forgive me, my King, but I would be remiss in my duty if I did not ask…are you absolutely certain that this is the best course of action?”
Mathew studied the Sub-Captain and considered reprimanding him for the question, but instead decided to offer a decisive answer. “I am absolutely certain,” he stated, meeting Jayden’s brown eyes. “There is no other way.”
Jayden did not question the King further, but instead gave a single nod. “As you command, your Majesty.”
Mathew nodded. “Let it begin.”
Chapter XVII
No sooner had Captain Regald entered the gates of the Ciar Court Guard, then he found the silver tip of a broadsword at the edge of his throat. “Well, look what we have here,” Jake said to the Arum Captain.
“Jake,” Regald said, standing as still as he could with Jake’s sword pressing lightly against the thin skin of his throat.
“You think you can torture the Captain of this guard, and then waltz in here like nothing is amiss?”
“Jake,” Regald tried again. “Listen to me. That wasn’t my doing. You know it wasn’t. The King gave those orders himself. I didn’t even know about it until he was being tied to the table.”
“And yet, you stood by and did nothing. I can’t believe Mara didn’t have your head.”
“She almost did,” he replied. “And might still yet. But that is her life to take, not yours.”
“He is my Captain, Regald. That makes it as much mine as anyone’s.” Jake took a step back, removing his blade from Regald’s. “Draw your sword, Captain. We will do this fairly.”
“Jake!” Garreth’s voice cut in sharply as he rounded the corner. “Within these walls he is a guest until Edward deems otherwise. Put that sword away, Sub-Captain.”
Jake turned back towards Garreth with a firm scowl before proceeding to do as he bid, sliding his silver sword securely back into the leather sheath that hung at his side. “What brings you here, Captain? If you are here for Nolan, Mara assigned him to Edward’s guard, pending a move to the Black Rose.”
“I am not here for Nolan,” Regald told the older man. “I’ve come as an escort to our court’s future Princess.” He motioned to the dark-haired woman standing behind him. Dressed in a pair of black slacks and a pale blue shirt, she stepped forward gingerly, her small heels echoing across the grey stone. “Lady Sandra, this is Sub-Captain Jake and Lord Garreth, members of Captain Edward’s guard.” He gestured to Sandra. “This is the fiancé of the Crown Prince.”
“Hmm,” Jake replied. “His throat to cut and a hostage to threaten the Arums with. Perhaps he is sorry after all.”
“Jake.” Garreth’s tone spoke volumes.
“Just an idea,” he grumbled back.
“Lady Sandra,” Garreth said to the young woman. “What may I do for…” Garreth stopped as he took in the girl more fully, staring into her deep blue eyes. It wasn’t possible…
“Welcome to the Ciar Court Guard, my Lady,” Jake said from behind him. “How may we be of service?”
“I would like to see Captain Edward,” she replied softly.
“Of course, my Lady.” Ga
rreth recovered his voice and offered the young woman his arm. “I will escort you to the Captain.”
“Thank you, my lord,” the young woman replied.
Garreth slowly led Sandra down a series of grey stone hallways. It was cold and Sandra wished she had brought a thicker sweater as they ventured deeper into the stone mountainside. “Pardon me, my Lady. But I was wondering, have we ever met before?”
“I don’t believe so, my Lord.”
“It’s Garreth,” he said.
“Garreth,” she repeated. “Do you believe that we have met?”
“I don’t think so. You just look a little like someone I used to know.”
“Oh.” She sounded disappointed.
“Here we are.” Garreth motioned to a stone door several paces ahead of them. “I will go announce your arrival to the Captain.” He knocked softly moments before disappearing through the tall door. A few moments later, the door opened again, and Garreth motioned Sandra inside. “I will leave you in the Captain’s care.”
Garreth walked down the long stone corridor before eventually emerging into the cool evening air. “It’s impossible.” He turned down a familiar dirt path, disturbing the occasional rock as he walked around the royal grounds. He attempted to clear the image from his mind, but could not shake the feeling of foreboding that had begun to descend upon him. “Those eyes,” he said, speaking for the wind alone. “Those blue, blue eyes.” He continued his amble, eventually finding himself on the north side of the grounds.
The garden of the Ciar Court was a pale shadow of the grandeur of times past. A few roses had been transplanted from the court’s ancestral home, but they had never truly taken to their new environment. Yet, it was to this spot that Garreth inexorably found himself drawn as he thought of times long past. A small spring slid between the overgrown grass, bringing water to the sparse flowers and trees which lined its banks.
“Those eyes,” he said again. They were so blue, the eyes of this young girl who had come to see his Captain. Garreth searched his memory, but could form no recollection of having ever seen her before. “It can’t be,” he said again. And yet…it was. A young girl with eyes the color of the sea—eyes that should not exist. “That bloodline is gone,” Garreth stated to no one.
Before its fall, the Muir Court had been the second-most powerful in the land. It was a vast empire, the heart of which stood in the form of a silver castle by the sea. The Court was ruled by a powerful King who, at the time of its demise, had reigned since the rise of the Roman Empire. He had four sons and two daughters, all of whom possessed the same shade of vibrant blue eyes.
Garreth closed his eyes and could almost see the glint of silver, could hear the clash of swords and the screams of the dying. The cold eyes with which Mara watched the men fall before her with a wrath which knew no end. He stepped closer to the river, attempting to divine an explanation. Perhaps it had been a trick of the light. Remnants of memories stirred from a long slumber by Mara’s recent appearance or Edward’s injuries, so similar to those endured long ago.
He gave a deep sigh, then turned to begin the walk back when something caught his eye. On the far side of the garden was one of the small rosebushes which had been transplanted from its ancestral home. Garreth walked forward slowly. When he reached the rosebush, he fell to his knees before it. Once these ancient roses had bloomed in an assortment of royal colors, but since the moment the Black Rose was formed, they had bloomed only in black. Garreth struggled to believe his vision as he reached out a hand and found himself caressing the soft, fragile petal of a single crimson rose. Garreth stared at the rose for a long time before his gaze traveled through the garden and he suddenly realized that the roses surrounding him were no longer black, but purple—the color of the royal rose.
“By the Gods,” Garreth whispered as the world began to spiral. He turned back to the single red rose and sat there for a long time. When he finally stood, he headed towards his chambers. It took a half hour, but when he reached the familiar door, Garreth entered the room and walked directly to the small wooden desk in the far corner of the room. He opened a small hidden panel in the desk from which he withdrew both his passport and a special badge which would allow him to take his sword on his journey. Sliding both into the pocket of his dark jacket, he retrieved his long, silver sword from its place upon the wall and secured it tightly around his waist.
Garreth walked silently down the long corridors from his room to the palace library. Books and scrolls lined the walls from floor to ceiling. He walked quickly down the rows until he finally reached the back wall where the books were encased in a thick sheet of glass. This section was temperature controlled, accessed by a small electronic panel, one of the only modern additions in the otherwise ancient room. It had been installed only a few years ago when it had been discovered that several of the old books were beginning to deteriorate. Luckily the majority had been salvaged, or at minimum, repaired enough to still be legible.
Garreth pressed his thumb against the electronic panel. After a series of loud beeps, the glass slid sideways, opening for the Sub-Captain with a loud whoosh. It took him several minutes to locate the book he sought, but he eventually found it, withdrawing it carefully from the shelf before again pressing his hand to the panel. The glass slid back into place as Garreth carefully raised the large, leather-bound book to his lips and lightly blew a thick layer of dust from its cover. It was very old, over five-hundred years, and had been carefully transcribed with quill and ink. The pages were now yellowed and fragile. Historia Vltima Aulae Marinae. “The Final History of the Sea Court,” he translated aloud. He then moved the book to his side and proceeded to walk towards the outer doors of the ancient keep.
A few turns from the outer doors, he found Nolan walking down the hall in his direction. “Hi, Garreth,” Nolan said with a slight wave.
“Hi,” he replied. “Sorry, but I am in a bit of a hurry.”
“Oh, where are you off to?”
“Just…I have to go.”
Garreth attempted to walk past the younger man when Nolan said, “Forgive me, my Lord. I know that something is going on. I saw your face when the Prince’s fiancé arrived. It…it was the same look that Edward had when he…”
“What? Edward has met her before?”
“Yes. Sandra was the one who threw herself over him while he was being whipped.”
Garreth stared at Nolan for several moments, attempting to put the pieces together when Nolan suddenly said, “Let me go with you, my Lord. I can tell you about it on the way.”
“You don’t even know where I am going.”
“All the same.”
Garreth parted his lips to say no, but instead found the words, “Let’s go,” falling from his lips.
It was only after they had left the royal grounds that Nolan finally asked, “So, where are we going?”
Chapter XVIII
Nolan read the title. “The Final History of the Sea Court. The same one which was destroyed by the Black Rose?”
“Yes. The Muir Court was also referred to as the Sea Court.”
Nolan shifted slightly, attempting to find a more comfortable position, grateful that Garreth’s Sub-Captain status had upgraded them to the business section of this exceptionally long flight. “Forgive me, but isn’t the story well-known? Mara is famous for the victory, after all.”
Garreth regarded him for a moment as though in consideration and then said, “No. It is not.”
“What do you mean?”
Garreth stared at the younger man for what seemed a long time before answering, leaning forward to be better heard over the roar of the plane’s engine. “Tell me the story you know.”
“Sure. The Muir Court was an ancient and powerful court lead by a cruel King. Their tyranny may have known no end, if Mara had not taken a group of men against them. She led an attack and dispatched the King, saving the realm and all those under his evil reign. Mara gained eternal glory and the Black Rose became peac
ekeepers between the remaining courts.”
Garreth nodded. “Yes, that is the story they would tell.”
“But not what actually happened, I assume?”
Garreth motioned to the book held gently in Nolan’s hand. “Do you read Latin?”
“Yes,” he replied. “I knew I would have to learn if I wanted to join the Black Rose.”
“Open the cover,” Garreth instructed, “carefully.”
Nolan did as instructed, cautiously opening the pages of the ancient book. On the first yellowed page was a single line: Scripta a Navarcho Rosae Nigrae Custodis Confessio.
“Written by Mara’s own hand?” Nolan asked Garreth with wide eyes.
“You have heard the stories, Nolan. But there is only one truth.” He drew a deep breath. “Mara was born a Princess. Did you know that?”
Nolan shook his head and Garreth continued.
“Her mother was Queen Clarissa’s younger sister. Her father, the son of a powerful Lord. It was a politically sound match, but at its core was the rarity of it also being a match created in love. The kind of love Mara asked you if you had ever experienced. A love that becomes your sole reason to draw breath.” Garreth drew a deep breath. “But what was a great romance for Princess Mellissa, brought only tragedy for her daughter, Princess Mara.”
Chapter XIX
Mara walked down the dirt path under a grey sky, pausing occasionally to glance at the tall stones which rose around her in the shape of broken crosses and fallen angels. Eventually, she reached the large cross which marked the entrance to her parent’s tomb. It was a symbolic location of course. Her parents were no more in this silent grave then they were within the mountain spring over which the majority of their ashes had been spread. Yet, there was still something about this place which made Mara feel closer to her long-lost parents than anywhere else she had ever known. She knelt before it.