by Bone, K. L.
Edward had never heard such rage, let alone from the beautiful girl standing before him. He reached out slowly and placed his hand upon her left arm.
“Don’t touch me!” she screamed, pushing him away with enough force that he had to step back to prevent himself from tumbling to the ground. “Mara,” he tried again. He could feel the pain radiating from her slender form.
“No!” she shrieked. “No, no, no!” Physically ill, Mara turned from him, leaning her face into her hands before letting out a wordless scream. The sound carried through the garden for any to hear. She did not care.
“Please, Mara. I did not want to hurt you. I would never want to hurt you. I did not mean…”
Mara rocked back and forth, her arms wrapped tightly around her body. She couldn’t move, couldn’t cry, couldn’t breathe. All she knew was pain.
Garreth, who had heard her scream from the opposite side of the gardens, raced around the corner with his hand upon the hilt of his silver bade. He froze at the sight of Mara’s shivering form. “What in the name of the Gods is going on?”
Mara heard him as though from a distance. Edward again moved his hand towards her. “You will hurt yourself.” At his touch, Mara broke from her frozen position, turning from him so violently that she lost her footing and would have fallen to the ground had Edward not caught her.
“Damn you!” She attempted to slap him, but he caught her wrist in his strong grasp. “You swore!” she continued to yell, tears at long last blurring her vision. “You swore to love me! You promised.” Her words became sobs. “I waited for you. You promised, you promised, you…”
“Mara, please,” Edward pleaded. “You must…I never…”
“Let me go!” she yelled as she sobbed. “You don’t have the right to touch me.” Edward released his grip on her pale wrist which would likely be bruised the next morning. She sank to the ground feeling everything, yet nothing. She fought to draw breath, but could not seem to force the air down her constricted throat.
“What the hell is going on?” Garreth directed the question to Edward. “What…” Mara did not hear his next words. The world spun faster through her blurred vision. She had no idea how long she lay there before a pair of arms slid around her. Mara fought the form which attempted to comfort her, oblivious to the fact that it was now her cousin and not Edward who attempted to gather her in his arms.
“Mara, Mara,” he repeated again and again attempting to cut through her hysteria. She had no idea how long she sat there, resisting Garreth’s comfort before finally turning to bury her sobs against his chest.
Garreth sat holding the shattered remains of the girl who had grown into one of the strongest women he had ever known, reduced again to that fragile child they had pried from her dead mother’s hand.
From the far side of the garden, Edward looked on helplessly.
Chapter XXV
Regald awoke to a soft knock on the door. He jerked from the bed, scrambling to grasp his sword where it lay upon the floor. A second knock made him grateful that he had removed only his shirt the night before as he rushed forward and placed his hand upon the large silver handle. He stood slightly to the side as he opened the door, peering out to find Sandra. “My Lady,” he stated, opening the door wider.
“Sorry to wake you, but I wanted to know if it would be okay to get some fresh air? Being inside this mountain is a little…”
“Of course. Just give me a moment to dress.” He motioned her inside, walking to the closet tucked into the back wall of the large room. Having been unaware that he would be away from his court for multiple nights, Regald had not brought extra clothes. As such, he borrowed one of the red shirts in the closet. The sleeves were slightly short, but otherwise it seemed to fit nicely. He quickly secured his belt and sword around his waist before offering Sandra his arm. She accepted it gladly and he led her down a series of stone hallways before emerging into the entryway of the mountainside keep.
As they stepped outside, Jake approached from their left. “Where are you going?”
“Lady Sandra requested a walk around the grounds,” Regald replied. “I offered to escort her.”
Jake eyed them for several moments. “You cannot go walking around the grounds, as a guest of our Court, without Ciar Guard protection. I shall accompany you.”
Regald did not question, but merely nodded. “As you wish, Sub-Captain.”
Jake took the lead. “I must apologize, Princess, for my behavior yesterday. I would love to act as your tour guide, if you will allow.”
“Thank you,” she spoke softly. “But I am not yet a Princess and therefore, should not be addressed as such.”
Jake nodded. “May I show you around the grounds then, Lady Sandra?”
“Of course, Sub-Captain. I would be delighted.”
The three began their walk along the winding dirt path with Jake pointing out occasional markers along the trail. They took their time, walking at a leisurely pace as the morning sun blazed through an almost cloudless sky. “Most of the Court stays in more modern structures on the opposite side of the mountain,” Jake informed her. “The Queen among them. She had the palace built about, oh…I would say, two hundred years ago.”
Sandra gave a soft chuckle, causing Jake to turn and look at her. “Sorry. Sometimes I forget that two hundred years would be ‘modern.’” She offered a warm smile which Jake found himself returning.
“Trust me, Princess…sorry, Lady Sandra. It is practically brand new by Ciar standards. The rooms you were in last night were carved from the mountainside nearly six-hundred years ago. The underground palace you recently visited with Captain Regald was ruled by our Queen for nearly nine-hundred years and by her mother for a thousand years before that.”
Sandra turned to Regald. “The Arum Court isn’t nearly that old, is it?”
“No, my Lady. The Arum Court has only been in existence for half a millennium, give or take. King Mathew’s uncle, Richard, was the first King, but he was not considered strong enough to hold the throne on his own. Mathew, a member of the Black Rose Guard who had just come from a series of victories, was named his heir. Richard surrendered the throne only a few years after the creation of the court and Mathew has ruled ever since.”
“You were a part of that guard as well, weren’t you?”
“Yes, my Lady. When Mathew left to become his uncle’s heir, he offered me a position as his Captain. I knew that Brendan was next-in-line to be Mara’s second in command, so when Mara gave me her blessing to leave, I accepted the King’s offer.”
Sandra nodded as they continued around the winding path. A cool breeze blew across the mountains slowly being warmed by the blinding rays of the sun which now hung high above them. The green grass rolled gently down the hill, the color scheme interrupted by the occasional patch of wildflowers. Sandra slowed her pace and waited for Regald to step beside her. “It’s so beautiful,” she said softly. Mountains rose higher in the distance, the tallest of the peaks capped with ice that had been there since the cretaceous period. She stood silently for several moments, taking in the breathtaking views, the wind pulling at the edge of her dark blue gown.
“Regald,” she said softly. “What is happening to me? Why will no one tell me?” She turned and tilted her head up in stare into his eyes. Yet even as he met her gaze, she heard the faint echo of that angelic laughter. She closed her eyes tightly against the sound, prompting Regald to reach toward her.
He pressed his palm to the side of her face. “Stay with me.”
She turned her head to the right, pressing her cheek more firmly against his hand. She forced herself to open her dark eyes to stare into his pale green ones. His expression was soft, concern showing plainly on his features. “We will help you, Sandra. You have my word.”
She drew a deep breath, the laughter pushed back by the sound of his voice. She placed her hand over his and he slowly lowered his arm, his fingers inter-lacing with hers for a brief moment before he let go, offering her a
much more formal grip on his arm. She slid her arm over his, the skin contact unusual in the borrowed shirt instead of the long sleeves he normal wore.
Jake, who had remained silent during this exchange, motioned in a sweeping gesture in front of them. “Shall we continue the tour, my Lady?”
“Yes. Please lead the way, Sub-Captain.”
“Jake. No need for formalities.”
She nodded. “Then please address me as Sandra. As I said, I am not a Princess yet.”
Jake smiled and continued the tour. They walked past a series of large, towering stones upon which lay the names of many heroes who had come before. Past a series of fields where various members of the Ciar Court Guard stood conducting their morning exercises, a few running along the green grass while others faced off with swords in their hands.
However, when they reached the edge of the garden, Jake stopped walking so suddenly that Regald almost ran into him. Jake stared wide-eyed at the garden, his lips parting as he said, “By the Gods.”
“I thought the roses never flourished here,” Regald said from a few paces behind them.
“They don’t,” Jake answered. “Or at least…they didn’t.” He walked forward towards the small stream which ran through the center of the garden. Where the night before the garden had consisted of only a few scattered flowers, now the roses lined the entire length of the stream, rising from the ground in a cluster of climbing and intertwining vines that matched the height of the men who walked towards them. They bloomed in royal purples and deep reds—colors that had not been seen in over eight hundred years.
“It’s the same thing that happened on the grounds of the Lorcan Court. The roses changed color.”
“I am going to get Edward,” Jake replied.
It took fifteen minutes for the Captain to arrive. Similar to the two other men, he was unable to keep his surprise from showing.
“What does it mean?” Jake asked from beside his Captain.
“I…I don’t know.”
Chapter XXVI
Mara awoke with a knock on the door, pulling her from the torturous memories depicted so clearly in her dreams. She ignored the sound, but the unwanted visitor opened the door in spite of the withheld invitation. No one in Mara’s own guard would be foolish enough to do so, which narrowed the identity of her intruder to one. “Go away, Garreth.” He continued to ignore her, walking slowly across the room until she felt his weight settle upon the side of the bed.
Lying on her side facing away from him, he sat still for several moments before his hand touched her shoulder gently. She was not sure what she expected, but the feel of her cousin wrapping his arms around her in an awkward embrace was not it. The feel of another’s touch, for which she had so long denied herself, was enough to bring fresh tears to her eyes. She fought them back. “Mara,’ he whispered softly.
Only the voice did not belong to Garreth. She jerked up, twisting her body around to face the man who held her. “Phillip.”
“Mara. My brave, brave girl.”
She rose to a seated position, leaning more fully into his embrace. “Phillip.” She placed her head upon his shoulder and he pulled her close. “I’m dreaming.”
“Yes.”
“Please, don’t force me to wake. “
He stoked her back, running his fingers through the long strands of her dark hair. “I’m so sorry, my Lady. But you must.”
She shuddered in his arms. “It hurts, Phillip. I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”
He kissed her brow, and suddenly she could hear the sound of the soft ocean waves. Mara pulled back and was kneeling again on that long abandoned beach. Once, it had been the living, beating heart of the Muir Court. But now, only the ancient ruins remained. It had been here on this beach that Mara had led the Black Rose Guard to their most famous victory.
The Arum court had not yet come into existence the day that the Ciar declared formal war upon the Muir. However, since it was the Princess that was being avenged, the honor-bound Black Rose was in charge of the attack. The Black Rose, transformed over the course of nearly two hundred years, stood as an assemblage of the most skilled warriors the Ciar Court had to offer, save one. They had been charged with sneaking into the ancient keep and opening up the gates. Instead they had slaughtered nearly everyone inside long before the bulk of the Ciar Court was able to join them.
Mara remembered cascading over the high walls. The entry point upon the wall had been carefully chosen after years of silent observation. The Rose had plotted this night to perfection; right down to knowing the rank of every single guardsman who stood upon the wall. She reached the ground and walked quietly towards the thick wooden door which was all that stood between her men and the inner halls of the palace with Phillip following closely behind her. A single man stood before the door, wearing the dark blue of the Muir Court Guard. Mara walked directly towards him. The man actually raised his hand in greeting, not realizing who or what she was. When she reached him, she paused a single moment and raised her blade in a practiced movement, driving its deadly edge into the side of his neck. Blood splattered her clothes as she proceeded to open the large wooden door.
On the opposite side, two additional members of the guard were seated at a table as Mara and Garreth stepped forward, side by side through the wide entryway. It took only three long strides to reach them. Mara slid her blade across the throat of the man seated on the right while Garreth did the same to the one on the left. Blood gushed from the open artery, but the men convulsed with only a slight gurgling sound. The Arius blade Mara carried had once belonged to her father. It had been given to him by King Cathair the day he had married her mother.
She slipped down the hall, leading her men as they killed all in their path: man or woman, it did not matter. When they reached the royal apartments, her men entered the rooms, forcing occupants from their beds and into a large parlor which stood in the center. In the center of the group stood King Dacian and Queen Sophia who had stood by his side for over a thousand years. The couple had three sons and two daughters, all with the same blue eyes. But Mara’s piercing gaze was fixed upon the Crown Prince.
“Mara.” Phillip’s voice drew her back to the beach. She was dressed in a thin blue gown covered with thousands of tiny crystals which sparkled in the light of the sun now sinking into the ocean waves. “You are even more beautiful than I remember.”
“Liar.”
In reply, Phillip offered a sad smile and ran his hand gently down the side of her face. “You look sad, my Lady.”
“Please, let me stay. I want to stay.”
“I’m sorry, my Princess. I would give anything to take away your pain. But alas, we both know it is the one thing I have never been able to do.” Regret shined through crystal blue eyes. “I am sorry, Mara.”
“You did what you thought was right.”
“It was wrong. So wrong. I hurt you. I never meant to, but I did just the same.”
“Oh Phillip,” she said, pursing her lips. “You were scared and that was my fault.”
“I would give anything to take it back.”
She remembered it all too well. It had been the day they had learned the true identity of Liza’s killer. The vow of the Black Rose was an ancient order from the most powerful of the immortal beliefs. It was tied to a vow of vengeance which Mara, and all those who had left the Ciar Court to follow her, had taken before the Gods of old. The vow of the Rose: Rosa Nigra te in vita tueatur teque in morte ulciscatur. May the Black Rose Protect you in life and avenge you in death. According to the tradition, all subjects within a given immortal court belonged to a single, ancient bloodline. The revelation that the man they sought was a Prince of the court could only result in one outcome.
“I can reveal the truth,” the Priestess had informed her. “But there will be a price.”
“Any price.”
The Priestess gave a single nod. “The blood of roses lies within the waves of the sea.”
Mara
felt her breath caught deep in her throat. “You mean, someone in the Muir Court…the court by the sea?”
“Of blood most royal.”
“No.” The word escaped her lips before she could stop it.
The Priestess looked at her with great sadness. “Your vengeance will not return her to you, Princess Mara.”
She stared at the Priestess for a long time, silently begging for it not to be true, but knowing such hopes were futile. When she returned to the ancient castle of the Black Rose, Mara had locked herself in her secluded tower. For days she sat in the darkened chambers, refusing so much as to light the fire in the cold chambers. For the first few days, Phillip simply brought Mara bowls of broth in silence. She never acknowledged his presence, but merely sat upon the bed, staring at the stone wall. Her expression remained blank, as though her soul had long abandoned the body which refused to quit breathing. It was a look that Phillip had seen before and with a chill he realized she had never looked more like her mother. By the time the fifth day rolled around, Phillip found himself standing just outside Mara’s door, his heart fearful of every sound, yet the room beyond the door remained silent. And it frightened him more than any scream.
It was on sixth evening that Phillip had come, entering the room quietly with a cup of warm liquid in his hand. “You need to drink this,” he said softly. From a seated position on the bed, she had reluctantly taken the cup and forced the warm liquid down her parched throat. Phillip sat in silence until Mara had drank the majority of the brew and then took the cup, placing it on the stone floor to the side of the bed.
“My Lady,” he said as he slid to one knee. “You do not have to do this. You can let others take this task.”
“No,” she replied but her voice lacked all conviction.
“What can I do?”
“Nothing. There is nothing that anyone can do.”
“That is not true though, is it Mara?” She looked at him uncomprehendingly. “My Lady, I cannot leave you here in this isolation. Nothing in this world terrifies me more than seeing you so.”