by Bone, K. L.
The blade sank into Viktor’s right hip. He cried out in pain as it tore through flesh and muscle to touch the bone. She then jerked back and aimed towards Viktor’s left. He blocked the first stroke with some difficulty. She struck again, pouring all of her strength into the movement. The force of the swing knocked her opponent off-balance. A third swing and he began to fall, his injured leg unable to support his full weight. She followed him towards the ground with her weapon, finally able to slide the sharp edge into Viktor’s left side.
He howled in pain at the contact, his own sword clattering to the floor. She again brought down her blade, this time cutting down the center of his chest, causing blood to spray on her hands and arms. She brought the sword down one more time, leaving him writing in pain then turned to her left to assist Aiden, who was fighting a man she did not recognize. He was several inches taller than her, but this mattered little to the experienced Captain. She placed herself between Aiden and his blond-haired opponent. “Go help the others,” she instructed the lower-ranked member of her guard.
He did not speak, but instead turned to assist his brother who was engaged in his own fight a few feet to their right. She squared off with the new opponent, again gripping her thick blade with both hands. Her attacker struck first, moving his blade toward Mara’s left. She easily sidestepped the movement, turning back with calm eyes. This time he moved in a downward stroke. Mara raised her own sword to directly meet the movement, stopping the cutting edge mere inches above her vulnerable form. She then moved quickly, slicing her sword left and then right, favoring speed over strength. Her blade again lunged to her opponent’s left side. He was slow to follow her movement and received a deep slice to his left arm.
She again swung left, this time with three strokes in quick succession, then switched to his right. He was unprepared and her blade bit into his right side. He cried out in pain, the sword faltering in his arm, when she spied Edward from the corner of her eye. He had been disarmed by his opponent and now stood at the mercy of Jayden’ silver blade.
The sight made Mara’s blood run cold. She rushed forward, abandoning her current opponent in what amounted to a mad dash across the stone floor. But it was too late as Jayden moved the edge of his blade to the side of Edward’s throat and turned to face Mara, who froze as she met his gaze.
“I am going to ask you a question, Captain.” Mara took a moment of silence before giving a single, steady nod but was unable to slow the frantic beat of her heart.
“What is he to you?” Jayden nodded towards the man he held captive. “What, exactly, is Edward to you, the Captain of the Black Rose? Answer quickly.”
She forced herself to meet his gaze and went for truth. “My everything. The other half of my soul. Please, Jayden, take me if you must, but…let Edward go.”
“You love him,” Jayden stated, through whether for clarification or repetition, Mara was uncertain.
“All my life.”
“He was the one you rejected the King for. The one you let Phillip die for; and killed the young Prince.”
“Yes,” she answered. “Yes.”
Jayden continued to stare before finally stating, “It’s true, isn’t it? You would really trade your life for his.”
“Without hesitation,” she replied in a voice mixed with fear. “Is that what you want, Jayden? My life for his, here I am—take it. Please, take my life. Just don’t…don’t do this. I can’t survive it.”
Jayden cut his gaze to Edward and then back to Mara. “So it is all true. The lost Princess, the forbidden love, the Queen’s vengeance. All the stories whispered on a dark night, are true.” Mara gave him open eyes and it was all the confirmation he needed. “My Gods.”
“Please, my Lord. My life for his.”
Jayden drew another breath and then, to the surprise of both Captains, lowered his sword. “I am not worthy to kill the Captain of the Black Rose nor to take that of the man she gave her life to protect.”
Her heart still pounding far too fast, Mara gave a nod and was careful to avoid Edward’s eyes as she addressed Jayden. “Are you here to take the oath of the Rose? Or will you return to your King?”
“My oath lies with Mathew, my Lady. I was sent after you, but have been deemed unworthy. I shall return to face the King with news of our defeat.”
“Then go, my Lord. With my thanks, but…not my mercy.” Jayden gave a single nod before turning to leave the castle grounds.
Mara turned to survey the damage surrounding her. Nolan stood in the far corner appearing exhausted but physically unharmed. Brian and Aiden were standing to her left, blood dripping from Aiden’s forearm. Her eyes continued to search the room, a sense of relief beginning to settle upon her. Then she caught sight of Garreth.
He was kneeling on the floor, his blond hair matted against his forehead. Brendan was lying at his feet in a pool of blood. Mara blinked several times, wondering if this was another flashback. Then, realizing it was not, she rushed forward, crossing the room in a few quick strides. She hit her knees on the opposite side of Garreth and leaned forward to assess his injuries. There were two large gashes in his chest, one on each side. His breathing came in a faint wheeze, the damaged lungs unable to breathe as his blood continued to stain the floor.
“It will be all right,” Mara assured the man who had fought by her side for more than half a millennium. “We will take you upstairs and it will all be…”
Her words faded as she caught sight of Garreth’s face. It should have been flushed from the exertions of the fight, but was instead white, as though the color had been drained from his cheeks. His eyes were wide. Something in them sent a chill through Mara. “Garreth, what is it?”
He looked at her as though startled by the question. “Mara,” he began in a timid voice.
“What is it?” she asked again, but was distracted by Edward, who appeared beside her holding out a relatively clean shirt. “I sent Nolan for bandages, but until then, use this.” She took the shirt gratefully and pressed the dark cloth down upon the open wound.
“Mara,” Garreth’s voice again interrupted her as Edward moved to Brendan’s other side.
“What?” she demanded. “What the hell do you want?”
“It was an Arius blade, Mara.”
She gazed at him slowly, her brain refusing to comprehend the meaning behind his words. “The King would never have given them an Arius blade.”
“He took it from Regald,” Garreth replied in a hushed voice. “When we surrendered our swords.”
She stared at her cousin with an air of defiance. “We were in the middle of a fight, Garreth. Everything happened so fast…” Her eyes searched the room, though for what, she was uncertain. Then she returned her gaze to Garreth’s. “How the hell do you know what blade he used? How dare you!”
“Mara,” Garreth again said her name, this time with more conviction. “It was Regald’s blade.”
Mara’s gaze again travelled to where her Sub-Captain lay. The cloth Edward had managed to tie around the injuries were now red with blood. She touched her fingers to Brendan’s neck and listened for his heartbeat—it was erratic and began to slow under her touch. “Brendan,” she said, unable to hide the disbelief which seeped into her voice. She moved her hand to cup the right side of his face. His eyes closed at her touch, then opened again slowly. She saw fear in those deep brown eyes along with a look she knew all too well. He was dying.
Mara’s teeth bit into her lower lip as she forced herself to draw several deep, slow breaths. Then she unclenched her jaw, tasting blood from where her teeth had pierced the tender flesh of her lip. Nolan had arrived and was now assisting Edward in his attempts to slow the bleeding. Mara drew another breath and quickly glanced around the room until her eyes came across Brendan’s sword which lay slightly to her right. She reached across the floor and picked up the ancient blade before turning to Edward. She wondered for a moment if he would challenge her, but instead bowed his head and slid back from Brendan’s
injured form. Mara then turned to where Nolan knelt across from her.
“Nolan,” she said gently. “You can stop now.”
He turned towards her with a look that lacked understanding. “But we have to stop the bleeding.”
“Nolan,” she said again. “It’s time to stop.”
He looked at her with a confused expression. “But, he’ll die.”
A slight tremor ran up Mara’s body, but she did not lower her gaze from the young man kneeling beside her in a pool of Brendan’s blood. Then, Garreth moved to Nolan, and placed a hand upon the younger man’s arms, gently pulling him away.
Mara took the thick, silver blade and placed it upon Brendan’s chest, then moved his left hand to the hilt, while taking his right into her own. She leaned down and kissed the hand which clutched the blade before turning to stare into his brown eyes. “It was an honor,” she said quietly, though her voice carried like a scream in the silence of the room. His eyes said what he could not speak. “I know it hurts,” she told him gently, then drew another deep breath.
“There is a young woman who walks along the edge of the sea, soft waves foaming at her feet. Her eyes are violet, her smile gentle and her laughter—the sound of angels.” Mara offered a false smile that she had given far too many times. “She is waiting on you, my Lord. Go to her and be at peace.”
A few moments later, Brendan stopped breathing. Mara reached forward and gently closed his eyes before leaning down and kissing his brow. “May the order of the Black Rose protect you in life, and avenge you in death,” she said, speaking the ancient words before slowly rising from the dark stone floor.
She scanned the room, finding her desired object lying just a few feet away. Walking slowly across the floor, Mara knelt down and grasped the hilt of Regald’s Arius blade. She turned and walked to where Viktor lay, his chest exposed in a similar fashion to Brendan’s. Without hesitating or speaking, Mara raised the blade and sank it deep in the center of Viktor’s still beating heart. He gasped as the blade slid home then began to gurgle as he choked on his own blood. Mara gave the blade a violent twist before removing the ancient blade from the dead man’s chest. She turned, and without speaking a word, handed the blade back to the Arum Court Captain before ascending the main staircase, leaving the room in silence.
Chapter XXXI
Mara stood under the scalding water as the last of Brendan’s blood poured from her thick hair to cascade down her body before sliding across the white tiled floor and vanishing down the drain. The blood at her feet made her queasy and she was forced to steady herself against the wall. The fear that had flashed through Brendan’s brown eyes as he lay dying upon the cold, stone floor would remain with her until the day someone closed her own. It was exactly the way he had looked during their first encounter, nearly nine hundred years earlier.
She had been sitting in her room, speaking with Garreth, when she was interrupted by a loud knock. She moved to rise from her chair, but the door flew open before she could even call for the person on the other side to come in. “My Lady, My Lord,” stated a young guard who immediately flew to one knee before the two Sub-Captains.
“What is it?” Mara asked, rising quickly to her feet.
“My Lady. It’s Andrew and Brendan, two of the recruits who joined the guard in the last initiation. They had been assigned to the guard detail for Lord Bersid, who was called in to see the Queen this morning. Brendan, he…”
“Stand up, Raymond,” she instructed the younger man. “Take a breath and tell us what happened.”
He stood quickly, brushing his coat as he did so. “I am unsure of all the circumstances which lead to…”
“Just cut to the point.”
“The Queen was angry with the lord and somehow, I’m still not sure, her anger fell upon Jon. Brendan spoke in his defense and the Queen…” Mara’s heart began to sink. “She has ordered them both to the torture chambers, ordering Brendan’s punishment to be carried out by Jon’s own hand.”
Mara shook her head. “In other ways, she has found a way to punish them both; one for contradicting the Queen and the other for defending him.” She gave a deep sigh. “And you expect me to do what, exactly?”
“I,” he began, stumbling. “I don’t know, my Lady. I was just told to come to you.”
She paused, silently exploring her options, but arriving at no answers. “Raymond,” she said, “take us to the chambers the Queen sent them to. Quickly.”
Raymond led Mara and Garreth from the room and rushed down a series of hallways and stairwells, diving into one of the deepest parts of the castle grounds. They eventually emerged into a large, dimly lit room of dark stone. In the center of the room was a black stone table upon which Brendan lay. His arms were chained to either side, binding him tightly to the stone. His shirt had been stripped away, exposing his flesh to the waiting punishment.
A few feet from him stood another young guard with short brown hair and olive skin. Clutched in Jon’s hand was a long black whip. Jon looked up as the two new visitors entered the room, but turned back towards Brendan when neither of the newcomers spoke. Mara’s mind continued to race through her options, attempting to determine anything that could stop what was about to happen. Contradicting orders given directly from the Queen was out of the question. She exchanged a glance with Garreth, who looked as helpless as she felt. Her eyes again traveled to the bound man. Brendan was only in his late thirties, barely an adult by immortal standards.
Jon had been in the same initiation class, and from what Mara could remember, was only a few years older. He was now standing before his friend with a whip clutched tightly in his hand. He moved the whip with unpracticed hands, sliding it across the stone floor and flipping it in an unsmooth arc. He smacked the whip against the stone floor, the sound reverberating through the room and it struck the ground once, twice, thrice. He again glanced at where the two Sub-Captains stood and again, they remained silent.
Mara’s eyes trailed over Brendan’s still form as she stepped around the room to see his face, which was turned to the left as he lay upon the stone table. He looked young in comparison to those of the higher guard. It was more a look than anything physical. A mixture of fear and confusion; the eyes of a man who was unaccustomed to seeing the more horrific parts of life. Mara’s gaze then returned to the man with the whip. He looked almost as scared as the man lying on the table.
Jon again struck the floor with the long black whip and then finally drew back his arm to rake the sharp metal ends against Brendan’s exposed flesh. It was at that moment in which Mara called out the only thing she could think of. “I demand the Right of Substitution.”
Jon froze at her words. “Forgive me, my Lady, but this matter does not concern you. There is no reason for you to do this.”
“He is a member of the Guard in which I am his superior,” Mara answered, taking several steps closer to the young man clutching the whip. “Jon, Brendan is little more than a child. He had no idea what they were doing. You know that carrying out this punishment is not right.”
He looked at her with uncertainty. “I cannot change the Queen’s commands.”
“No, but we can save him from what you are about to do.”
“My Lady,” the man stated, “please, I don’t want to harm you. Everyone respects what you are trying to do for the Guard and for what you have done for the men. You are leading us with honor.”
Mara gave a small nod. “Then you can understand why I need to do this.”
He shifted uncomfortably. “My Lady, I’m not…I’m.”
She offered a shadowed smile. “Just tell me.”
He sounded timid and unsure. “Please, there is no one considered as highly respected as you. You’ve been leading…I mean, helping the Captain to lead…I mean,” he drew a sharp breath, “and you’re asking me to harm. Please, my Lady, do not ask me to spill your blood.”
She looked across the room at Garreth who instantly said, “No.” She continued to stare, t
he weight of her gaze fully settling upon him. “Mara, don’t even think about it.”
“Garreth, don’t allow these young ones to be punished for this. They do not deserve it, and you know what it will do to them.” She offered a tight smile that did not reach her eyes. “Look what it did to us.”
Garreth finally dropped his gaze to the floor before walking slowly across the floor and placing his hand upon Jon’s arm. “I will take it from here,” he said in a resigned voice. Then he turned slowly back to Mara, who knelt down beside the chained man and released Brendan from his bonds. “It’s okay.”
He looked at her with unmasked eyes. “I am sorry. I never meant to upset the Queen. I don’t understand what I did. I was only trying to…”
“I know you didn’t. It is going to be okay.”
She then motioned him away before turning to face the large stone slab which stood in front of her. She drew a deep breath and then turned back to Garreth, the whip now clutched tightly in his hand. It was a long whip hosting three thick strips of leather each tipped with thin pieces of silver metal with jagged edges which would bite into Mara’s delicate skin. He took several steps forward and placed his hand upon her right cheek then moved his hand towards her shoulder. “Mara, you don’t have to do this.”
A shiver passed over her tall form as she forced herself to meet her cousin’s gaze. “Just do it quickly. I will try to stay quiet.”
He looked at her with such sadness. “Oh, my Lady, my beautiful, beautiful cousin. You will scream.” He shook his head, then returned his gaze to hers. “You will scream and scream and scream.”
Mara’s teeth sank lightly into her bottom lip as she drew a deep breath. She gave a single nod. She removed her outer jacket along with the golden chain which was clasped securely around her neck. She handed both to Garreth, who placed the discarded items against the far wall. Mara turned again to face the stone table and slowly lowered her body across it. She gripped the edges; it was cold to the touch.