by Bone, K. L.
She sank her teeth into her bottom lip drawing a constricted breath and gave a single, slow nod before finding the strength to say. “promitto. I will always come for you, Edward. Always. But I have to go now, mi amor. I have to go.”
With those words, Mara turned and left, leaving Edward alone in the ever darkening room.
Chapter XXVII
Mara still stood upon the beach, wearing a crystal blue gown that matched the color of Phillip’s eyes. He ran his hand down the side of her face gently brushing her dark hair away from her face. “I’m sorry, Mara. I never meant to hurt you.” He pressed his palm against her cheek.
“You were trying to save me. You did save me. You sent me to the only one who could.”
“I wish I could take it back.”
“You’re here now,” she answered, the cool breeze blowing gently through the strands of her dark hair. She moved her own hand to touch his face when she suddenly heard a distant thudding. She turned from him to stare at the ocean waves. For a moment she heard only the crashing of the gentle oceans waves. Then, the sound rose again, louder this time, more insistent. She turned back to Phillip. “I don’t want to go. Please, please Phillip—don’t make me.”
He looked at her. “They still need you Mara. You are not done yet.”
“Why?” She shook her head pleadingly. “All I know in this world is death and pain. How can they possibly need that in their lives? It is so peaceful here. Please, Phillip—let me stay.”
He stared at her for several moments and then suddenly gave a single nod. “The choice is yours, my Princess. But what I stated before remains true; if you stay, Edward will die.”
Again there came that awful sound only this time it was accompanied by a faint cry: “Mara.”
She stared at Phillip. “It is your choice,” he said.
She drew a deep breath. “Don’t leave me.”
“I will always be here, my Princess.”
“Mara!” The cry was louder this time, more insistent than before.
Very slowly, she shook her head. “Captain,” she corrected. “Only Captain.”
He nodded slowly. “Then I bid thee farewell, Captain of the Rose.”
She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath of crisp ocean air, the taste of salt dancing upon her tongue. She opened her eyes to find Garreth leaning over her. He was holding her by both arms, his fingers digging into her pale skin with physical force. He shook her body vigorously, lifting her upper body from the bed as he did so. “Mara, wake up!”
“For Gods’ sake, what is it?” she demanded, twisting in an attempt to get away from him. “You’re hurting me.”
He moved back, and she was ready to begin yelling at him for daring to invade her privacy, when she suddenly heard a loud clatter, as though something very large had shattered. It was instantly followed by the sound of clashing blades echoing through the stone castle. Her head snapped to Garreth, giving him her full attention, her exhaustion vanishing. Garreth’s silver blade lay on the edge of the bed inches from his hand.
“We are under attack.”
Mara did not question this, but instead slid into her centuries of training without a second thought. She moved from the bed to where her sword hung on its normal place. She then grabbed her discarded clothes from where they lay crumpled and slipped into them in moments, not caring that Garreth was still standing in the room. Not bothering with the sheath, Mara grasped her naked blade, the familiar weight grounding her. She moved towards the door with Garreth at her heels. “How many?”
“At least a dozen. Maybe more.”
She did the math. The castle was only lightly guarded. A majority of her men were out on assignments. No one had been foolish enough to attack the Rose in centuries. What the hell is going on? She broke into a full run down the hall but slowed and took the corner to the staircase more cautiously. Fortunately the intruders had not seemed to have reached the upper levels of the castle. “We will take the back staircase,” she ordered. They took the stairs quickly as they dared, pushed forward by the cries of men and the clash of steel. When they reached the ground floor, they emerged into the deserted study and rushed toward the large wooden door. “Who are they?” she finally asked.
Garreth avoided her gaze.
“That bad?”
“At least two of them are from the Arum Guard.”
Mara drew a sharp breath, thoughts racing through her mind faster than she could follow. Finally she forced her gaze upon her cousin’s and simply said, “No mercy.”
They burst through the door, swords in hand. Outside nearly two-dozen warriors were engaged in heated combat. The intruders wore the dark red shirts that marked them as members of the Lorcan Court Guard. Her own men wore their signature black, marked by the silver rose embroidered upon their shirts. She moved immediately to the man closest to her left. She plunged the tip of her sword between his shoulder blades before he even knew she had entered the room. He collapsed to his knees with a shriek and she plunged her sword in a downward stroke, inserting the sharp tip between his left shoulder and neck, spilling his blood in a large stream as his body collided with the ground.
Without pause, she stepped forward to engage a bronzed-skin man standing to her right. He was several inches taller than Mara and a good fifty pounds heavier. Broad across the shoulders, he should have been intimidating, but Mara walked towards him at a steady pace with a blank, firm expression. Recognizing the famous Captain, the man tightened his grip on the weapon in his hand. Mara’s sword slashed forward and he rushed to stop her movement.
Mara took a step back and drew a deep breath. Her opponent stepped forward, shifting his weight to back leg before bringing his blade down upon Mara. She raised her blade, moving both hands to the hilt and bracing her legs as his weight came down upon her. Mara held her ground and for a moment the two stood still, their blades crossed as they caught each other’s gaze. The man pulled back and Mara lowered her blade, thrusting forward suddenly so that the downward stroke cut though the dark material of her opponent’s shirt and sliced into his skin. He jerked back with a hiss, but the cut had not been deep enough to end the fight. He then took up a defensive posture. Mara brought her blade to his right side with such speed that he was barely able to stop it. The two blades rose together, metal on metal causing a single spark to flicker between them. Mara spun her body in a tight spiral, and this time her sword forced its way into the layers of his left arm, causing blood to swell to the surface of his skin.
She took advantage of this, moving her blade again to his left. This time he blocked her movement and parried with a stroke of his own, attempting to use his superior strength to his advantage. Mara stepped to her right. His attempted strike struck only air, putting him momentarily off balance. It was all Mara needed. She twirled around him, spinning her body into a full circle as she slid behind her opponent. He attempted to twist to face her, but only managed to make himself even more off balance. Mara moved her silver sword in a single, fluid arc stabbing its sharp edge directly into the center of her opponent’s back. He fell to his knees with the impact. Mara followed him, pushing the edge of her blade into his spine.
A glint of light in the corner of her eye caused her to pull back just in time to avoid the slash of her next attacker, who had rushed to the defense of his friend now lying paralyzed on the stone floor. She moved away from the blade that raced towards her. From the corner of her eye, she caught Garreth facing off with an intruder of his own. Mara twisted, turning her full attention to the new attacker, a tall man with golden hair and eyes the color of speckled gold. His blade crashed down and she fell to her knees, skidding across the floor to avoid the blow, while sliding her blade into her would-be killer’s leg. He cried out as the razor sharp edge bit through flesh and touched muscle and bone. Mara continued to roll forward, moving herself several feet from him. He collapsed under his own weight, unable to support himself on only one leg as Mara quickly scrambled away, dragging her blade from the f
loor to her side.
Her opponent held his sword tightly in front of him even from his awkward kneeling position. She took a circular glance but saw no one else coming in her immediate direction before she turned back to the injured man. “Do you really want to fight me injured?” He looked at her for several moments, then dropped the blade. She kicked it away from his reach. “Stay down. If you attempt to rise, I will kill you.”
She turned back to the frenzy around her and realized suddenly that the fighting had stopped. Her eyes flew to Garreth, and she followed his gaze. Near the front of the stairs stood a man Mara vaguely recognized as a noble of the Arum Court. He had short black hair, dark brown eyes and dark, tanned skin. His blade was silver and the sharp edge was pressed against the delicate line of Nolan’s throat. “I’ll kill him.”
Mara took several steps forward, ignoring the warning, when Garreth spoke from behind her. “Wait, Mara don’t.”
She paused in her movements but did not remove her eyes from the assassin before her. “If I put down this blade, they will kill him anyway.”
“No,” the man replied in a tight, controlled voice. “You have my word, upon the Gods. Surrender and no harm will come to the boy.”
“Jayden.” Nolan gave a name to the man holding him hostage. “Why are you doing this?”
Jayden pulled Nolan closer against him, using Nolan’s body as both hostage and shield. “No more games.” His eyes scanned the room, but his words were meant for Mara alone. “Drop the sword, or I kill him.”
Mara forced herself to draw a sharp breath. “I have never dropped my sword for anyone, Jayden. I’m afraid, that I cannot oblige…”
Jayden pressed the blade more firmly against Nolan’s throat. A trickle of blood seeped to the surface of his skin; a drop of crimson against a sea of white.
An icy hand seemed to clutch Mara’s heart. Instead of resisting, she closed her eyes and welcomed it, allowing the cold to spread over her body like a suffocating blanket. Many claimed that killing was like a fire—something between rage and fierce passion. But for Mara, it had always been the opposite. She closed her eyes and could almost picture herself encased in an icy wasteland on the edge of night. It was a calm world, a place where no fire, no passion, no emotion could hope to survive. It was here, to the place inside that Mara had been forced to lock herself inside the night Liza had died. The night Phillip had stepped into the sea. The night she had crossed blades with… Here, was where Mara died and the Captain of the Black Rose was born.
She opened her eyes slowly, giving the full weight of her gaze to Nolan. “I’m sorry.” Her voice was quiet, calm. “Nolan, I hereby name you to the Rose. To die with all the expected honors accorded to one of your title and rank.” She met Nolan’s frightened eyes, but had no comfort to offer. She began to take the fatal step forward, when a voice rang out.
“Don’t! Mara, don’t.” Edward’s voice poured over her like liquid fire, melting the protective layer of ice surrounding her. She turned as though in a daze to face the only Captain she had ever known. “Drop the blade, Mara. Please…do it for me.”
Staring into Edward’s dark eyes, Mara released her grip on the silver blade. It clattered to the stone floor. She did not speak a word when two of her yet to be named attackers approached her. They took her arms almost gingerly, moving them behind her back and slipping steel manacles around her slender wrists.
Then another voice rose. “What are you doing, Jayden?” Regald asked from a few paces to Edward’s right.
Jayden’s head snapped towards where Mara stood. “Captain Regald. Did the King send you to make sure we did our job? You can assure him that Viktor,” he motioned to a tall man standing beside him with dark brown hair and eyes of liquid gold, “and I have this well under control.”
“What are you talking about?” Regald took several steps forward. “What the hell are you doing here?” Jayden’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the other man. “It is forbidden to attack the Black Rose.”
“I could ask you the same question.”
“I am escorting the future Princess to see Captain Mara, per Lady Sandra’s request.”
Jayden’s eyes flew to the young woman standing between Edward and Phillip as though he had not realized she was there, and perhaps he had not. “Lady Sandra? What…” Jayden shook his head without removing his blade from the side of Nolan’s neck. “I am following the orders of my King, Captain. Will you join us or not?”
Regald gazed around the room until his eyes finally settled upon Mara’s still form, the silver blade lying at her feet. “You forget, I was once a member of the Black Rose. I will not betray its Captain.”
“Then you will be exiled from your Court as an oath-breaker and traitor to the King.”
“The King himself once served Mara, and was allowed to the throne only with her blessing and power. Something he seems to have forgotten long ago.” Regald met Mara’s violet eyes. “I stand with the Captain of the Rose.”
“So be it.” Jayden motioned to another of the men who approached Regald, tying his hands with a thick, coarse rope that bit into his skin as it was tightened.
Regald turned back to Jayden, anger showing plainly on his face. “What about Lady Sandra?”
Jayden turned his gaze back to the young woman, draped in a simple gown of blue crushed velvet. “She will be returned to the Court. The King can decide what is to be done with her there.”
The young girl looked at Regald with wild eyes. “Do not fear,” he assured her in spite of the predicament in which he now found himself. “You are the fiancée of the Crown Prince of the Arum Court. These men will not harm you.”
Fear showed plainly on her pale features. “I will come for you, my Lady. You have my word.”
“Silence!” Jayden finally stated. “Take them below. Bring the girl to me.”
The three Captains, along with other members of the Black Rose guard, were herded to the stone steps and forced into the bowels of the castle. Though they had not been used in centuries, the dungeons were still in good repair and would be more than capable of preventing the escape of their former masters. Garreth was moved into the cell first, while Edward was forced into the second. Jayden kept his blade trained on Nolan while another member of his guard who Regald had previously identified as Viktor grabbed Mara, jerking hard on her right arm, turning her to stare into his golden eyes. “The Mighty Captain of the Rose,” he taunted. “Perfectly prepared to let every single person she has ever known die. Yet a single word from Edward and you surrender all.”
He laughed. Mara met his gaze, silently cursing him with her cold eyes. Viktor then reached carefully into his left pocket and withdrew a syringe filled with a clear liquid capped by a plastic cylinder. He handed the protected needle to Mara and pushed her into the cell where Edward already stood against the back wall. Once inside, Mara turned to face him, apprehensively awaiting his next demand.
It was Jayden who spoke. “If you want the boy to live, you will take that needle in your hand and inject its contents directly into Edward’s bloodstream.”
Mara froze, her mind shifting silently through the list of liquids the syringe might contain. There were only a limited number that could affect an immortal and even fewer with the capacity to cause harm. Anger radiated through her violet eyes as she stared at the man threatening Nolan’s life. “Do it, Mara.” Jayden moved the blade lower and gave Nolan a shallow cut across his upper chest.
Nolan hissed at the blade’s razor-sharp precision. Edward stepped forward, his sleeve already rolled up around his left arm. Mara carefully removed the cap from the needle and turned to face him.
“Here,” Edward offered his arm. She maneuvered towards the exposed flesh, but when she attempted to place the needle to Edward’s arm, she froze. More names appeared on the list of possible poisons and Mara’s hand began to tremble. Cyanide would prevent tissues from absorbing oxygen, slowly causing suffocation. Conium would cause paralysis, while leaving the mind ful
ly capable of being aware its surroundings. Belladonna could cause hallucinations, spasms and painful convulsions which would torment its immortal victim for hours.
Edward reached forward and tried to close his hand upon the syringe, when Mara suddenly jerked away from him and stepped back several paces.
“Mara,” Edward attempted to assure her. “It’s okay.”
Mara plunged the needle deep into her left arm. A stinging sensation accompanied the motion as she forced the clear liquid through the layers of her skin, into the veins beneath. The motion was completed before anyone could draw the breath required to utter protest. Edward’s eyes flashed in a mixture of anger and fear, then Mara turned and tossed the used needle back through the iron bars of the cell to clatter to the ground at the feet of her captors. “Self-sacrifice,” Viktor stated in a mocking tone. “As noble as they say.”
No sooner had his words faded then Mara’s vision began to blur. She blinked several times, but the sensation grew worse. Cold fingers began to crawl slowly up her back, beginning at the base of her spine climbing towards her neck. She began to shiver, as though someone was pouring ice through her veins where warm blood had flowed only moments before. As the chills trailed up Mara’s tall frame, she found herself unable to suppress a gasp as the figment of cold, icy fingers touched her suddenly constricted throat. As her shivering quickly became visible to the naked eye, Viktor gave a cruel laugh before promptly turning and exiting the room.
Edward grabbed Mara’s shaking form. “What did they give you, Mara?”
“I don’t know,” she said through chattering teeth. She had to fight to draw breath then managed to whisper a single word, “Cold.”
She drew short, quick breaths as a tightness entered her chest, accompanied by a sharp pain in her left side which would have brought Mara to her knees had Edward’s arms not moved securely around her. “Dammit, Mara!” Edward’s voice sounded tight with restrained anger.
Mara ignored the frantic statement, concentrating too hard on breathing to respond. Keeping his right hand on her shoulder, Edward managed to shrug out of his long black coat and tossed it to the ground. He lowered Mara onto the woolen fabric, following her to the stone floor. He laid her body gently upon the cloth and pulled her head against his chest. She scrambled for his hand which she clutched like a lifeline, digging her nails deep into his skin as another painful spasm tore through her left side.