by Bone, K. L.
“I’m afraid,” she confessed. “I am afraid to dream.”
He moved his hand back to Mara’s arm, pulling her across the bed, causing her to fall beside him. “If you dream, I will wake you.” He caught her gaze. “Let me hold you, Mara.” Her heart beat against her right temple as Edward guided her head against the uninjured side of his chest.
“I should be guarding you.”
“You have, Mara. You saved us. Now, I need you to rest. Please, mea rosa, lie here with me.” She drew a deep breath, listening to the strong beat of his heart. She closed her eyes as he continued to stoke her hair. It was the last time she had ever known peace.
Chapter XLII
“Liza died that night,” Garreth continued, his voice filtering through the dimly lit room as the dancing flames pushed back against the biting cold that had begun to seep into the room. “Afterwards we…well, we…”
“We were never the same,” Mara finished for him. “But Edward, he,” she drew a quick breath, “it was like he had disappeared. Everything he was, everything he had been, vanished before our eyes. And without him, we struggled—struggled to maintain the guard, to protect the men under our charge, to stay true to our vows, to protect the Captain from those who would have taken advantage, to…to.”
“It was difficult,” Garreth added. “Edward had always been the strength of the Guard.”
“Yes,” Mara agreed. “And without him we were broken, shattered, lost. And to be perfectly honest, he was gone for a very long time. We all suffered without him, but then after what had happened to him and to Liza no one could blame him. None of us were truly ‘all right’ until long after and a few of us would never be okay again.”
“I don’t understand though,” Nolan stated. “I know that she was killed, but I don’t know what actually happened. How did she die?”
Garreth and Mara stared at each other for several moments but it was Mara who finally answered. “They didn’t just kill the Princess; they mutilated her. They sliced open her face into strips of split flesh, gouged out her eyes until she was all but unrecognizable even after the blood had been cleared from her once beautiful face. And when Edward found out, he just…he was absolutely—” The words died upon her lips as Mara’s gaze slid towards the back of the room and she found herself staring into Edward’s enraged eyes. She stood from the chair in a single, fluid motion.
“How dare you!”
“Edward, please,” Mara pleaded. “You don’t understand.”
“Go to Hell!”
“Edward,” Garreth interjected, rising to stand beside Mara. “She’s right, you don’t understand. Please let us explain.”
“How dare you talk about her! How dare you speak her name to someone who was not there! How could you? How dare you!”
With those words Edward turned and stormed from the room. Mara raced after him.
Nolan moved to follow, but stopped when Garreth grabbed his arm. “Let them go,” he stated as the stone door closed behind Mara’s fleeing form. “Only they can help each other now.”
Mara followed Edward down the hall, being forced to break into a full-fledged run in order to catch up to his furious pace. “Edward, stop!” she screamed as she finally reached his side. “Stop, stop, please stop.
He finally acquiesced and slowly turned to face her with a mixture of pain and anger, his hand holding tightly to the hilt of his Arius blade. “Why?” he demanded. “Why would you?”
“Because,” she replied. “Once long ago, you, Phillip, Garreth and I made a choice and we have paid for it dearly. We have, our men have, and everyone we have ever known has. But, Edward, it was a choice. A choice we made.”
“So, what are you saying, Mara? That he should know because it might cost his life?”
“No, Edward.” Pain filtered through her voice. “Not his life—his very soul.” She paused, allowing the words to fully settle upon him. “We gave our souls for something we believe in—believed in with the very fiber of our being, with ever beat of our heart. How can we now ask this young man to offer the same sacrifice without telling him why?” She shook her head. “If it were his life, that would be one thing, but it is more than that.”
“What do you mean?”
She stared directly into his dark eyes. “I am not worried that he will die Edward; I am worried that he will live. If he does this, if he joins our ranks and chooses to attack the court into which he was born, the men he served alongside, and the King he once swore his life to protect, he will never be the same. It will shatter a piece of his soul that no amount of time will ever heal. He will be like us, broken for the rest of time. So yes, Edward, he needs to know. He needs to know the consequences of such a choice and what it did to us.” She drew a breath. “I cannot take responsibility for any more shattered souls, Edward. Can you?”
He took a step closer before answering. “Did it, Mara? Cost your soul?”
Her body began to tremble as she reached forward and placed her hand gently against his chest, pressing her fingers lightly over its center. “My soul is where it has always been, Edward. Right here, with you.”
He reached to cup the side of her face with his left hand then said, “Mara,” in a voice so fierce that her body jerked at the sound. He leaned even closer, shutting his eyes tightly as he drew an unsteady breath before again turning his dark eyes upon her. Then he kissed her. When he finally pulled back, it took several moments for Mara to find her voice.
“What do you want, Edward? What do you…” She drew a constricted breath. “Please tell me. I will do anything you ask.”
“I have no right to ask anything of you. I have no…”
“You have the only right! My soul, my heart, my life—they belong to you. They always have. Please, my Lord, tell me how to help you.”
He reached forward, forcing her back against the wall of the corridor. He grabbed both her wrists with a single hand, drawing her arms above her, trapping her against the cold stone. He kissed her again, molding her lips against his own, as the world began to spiral. Mara had no concept of time as he held her there, equally unwilling and unable to resist as he possessed her. When he finally drew back, Mara stared into his familiar dark eyes and recognized a mixture of emotions she knew all too well: fear and desire, horror and desperation, anger and love—all blended into one, singular moment.
“Six hundred years,” she said without thought. “I’ve waited six hundred years. And now you…you.”
“I know,” he replied, refusing to loosen his iron grip on her slender wrists which he still held above her. “I know I never do right by you. I know I have hurt you and that you hate me for it. I know this isn’t right. I know that…”
“It’s the only thing that is right! And I never hated you. Not when you left, not when you told me you loved Liza, not when you fell apart and not even when we crossed…” Her words faltered. She could almost hear the sound of blades clashing, could see the glint of steel that seemed to shimmer even in the dying light of the setting sun; the sharp, sudden pain. “Even then I could not bring myself to hate you, mi amor. I love you.” She shook her head. “I did not want to tell him what happened. I did not want…I did not. But he has to know.”
Edward jerked her from the wall and pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her, creating the only stability in her crumbling world. “I am sorry,” he said softly. “When I saw the blade lying on the bed, I knew what it must have cost you. I thought you were gone, that I had lost you all over again. ignosce mihi. I was so…” He could not bring himself to say the words, and instead buried his face against the side of Mara’s neck.
She remained silent for several minutes, allowing him to cling to her, before finally forcing herself to speak. “Edward,” she said softly. “I need to help Garreth finish the story. I need to tell him about the battle of the Muir Court. Garreth, he…he can’t do it alone.”
Edward dropped his arms from around her and stepped back enough to nod. “Okay, Mara. I will
go with you and we will finish the tale.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I do,” he replied. “You asked me what I want?”
Mara nodded.
“I don’t ever want you to be alone again. I want…” He searched her gaze. “I want to save you.”
His words threatened to bring fresh tears to her eyes. “You can’t. I was damned a long, long time ago. But Nolan, and this young woman they have taken, we still might be able to save them. Please, Edward. Help me save them.”
“How? Tell me how.”
“Stand by my side.” She paused. “Stand by my side, until I ask you to step aside. Then allow me to do what must be done.”
Chapter XLIII
“We took turns running the Guard—Garreth, Phillip and I—revolving constantly around Edward’s chambers to maintain the appearance that he was still the one giving the commands. Eventually he came out of his room, but as little more than a silent guardsman. We protected him from challenges only by the basic principle that to become the Captain, challengers first had to defeat the Sub-Captains, and as you are aware, Nolan, with a blade we had few equals.
“We tried to protect the youngest of the Guard from the Queen, but were not always successful. When we failed, we paid the price with flesh and with blood. Some say our screams still echo down those dark halls.”
Her words trailed, prompting Nolan to gently ask, “Do they?”
Mara drew a slow breath. “The screams…are not mine.” She could almost hear the sound of the whip crashing down upon exposed flesh. “Never mine.” The smell of blood that faded long ago permeated the air; the metallic taste of it. She could feel the weight of the leather that she gripped firmly in her hand as she again brought the metal tips down upon Philip’s exposed back, dragged the jagged metal down along both sides of his spine with practiced precision. He screamed as the teeth big deep into his skin. She jerked her arm back and could hear the sound of ripping flesh as the metal fought to remain firmly embedded. Then she again moved the whip down, drawing a fresh set of screams.
“Phillip,” she said, exhausted. “I think…”
“Finish it,” he commanded through a harsh breath.
“I…”
“Damnit, Mara!”
She nodded reluctantly and continued the session, tearing again and again through the layers of Phillip’s skin until it was stripped away enough to bite into the exposed muscle beneath. Forty long, careful strokes with a three-pronged whip for a sin he had never committed. When she finally stopped, she moved to the stone slab upon which Phillip lay and sank to the ground beside him. She tightened her grip upon the handle of the whip and threw it across the room with what little strength remained. Then she buried her face into the palm of her hands and let out a muffled scream.
“Mara.” Phillip tried to reassure her, but his voice was hoarse and he was too injured to even reach out a hand to comfort her. After several moments of suppressed sobs, Mara turned and reached for Phillip’s hand, touching the tips of her fingers to his. “I…” She shook her head. “Phillip, I can’t do this for much longer.” His hand was trembling in hers from the intensity of the pain. She leaned down and placed her face against his hand as though a child seeking comfort. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Philip, I am so sorry.”
“Shh,” he shushed her through a shallow breath. He moved his fingers to brush a strand of hair from her left cheek. “You did only what was required, Mara. Nothing more.”
“Forgive me.”
“Freely,” he replied. “This is not your fault, Mara. You—” A sharp intake of breath showed his continuous level of pain.
“Why does she do this?” Mara asked, the words muffled. “I can’t do this much longer. I am not the Captain, I am not supposed to be. I cannot keep pretending that I am.”
“It’s okay.” Phillip continued to stroke Mara’s left cheek. “Breathe, Mara. Just breathe.”
She did as he commanded, closing her eyes as she drew a series of deep breaths, feeling her heart begin to slow. Then she climbed unsteadily to her feet and called to the men guarding the outside doors of the chamber. “Help the Sub-Captain,” she ordered. They came in quickly and assisted Phillip to his feet before beginning the long climb to his chambers. Every moan that escaped his lips struck another blow to Mara’s exhausted form as they moved the injured man up a sea of seemingly endless stairs to his private chambers. They called for the healers and settled him as comfortably as they could on his large bed. After the injuries were properly dressed, one of the healers moved toward Mara. When the woman’s pale hand reached for her left cheek, Mara jerked back.
“Forgive me, my Lady. I was attempting to assess your injuries.”
“My what?” It was only then, as her hand moved to the side of her face, that Mara realized that her skin had been splattered with Phillip’s blood. “It’s not mine.”
An hour later, Mara was walking down the ancient halls to the hidden hot springs which the courts had been built around. As this particular spring had been set aside specifically for those of the highest rank, Mara was relieved to find it deserted. She removed her saturated clothes and stepped into the searing water, which turned pink as she sank into its depths. She slowly scrubbed her pale skin, cleansing away all remnants of her betrayal. She leaned down, dipping the dark strands of her long hair into the water, writing more blood from the strands. She kept her face in the searing heat until she could stand it no longer and arose gasping for air.
She moved to the side and seated herself on the polished stone as the colored water began to clear. Her body shuddered in spite of the hot water and she sank further down until she was immersed to her neck. She had no idea how long she sat there longing for the silent tranquility which she knew would never come.
Then the moment was broken as a young girl entered the chamber. With mousey brown hair and large green eyes, the girl gave a small curtsy as she paused by the pool. “Forgive me, my Lady,” the child said. “Captain Edward has summoned Lord Phillip to his chambers. I was told that the order was to be given to you instead.”
Mara nodded before motioning to the pile of cloth lying on the opposite side of the pool. The girl grabbed one from the top of the pile without being asked and brought the cloth to Mara. She rose from the water, wringing as much from her hair as possible. She then ran the rough material over her body for several moments. Having planned to retire for the evening, Mara had brought only a thin, low-cut gown of dark silk which clung to her damp skin. She ran a comb quickly through the wet strands of her hair, not bothering to pull it back as was her custom. Pulling a matching silk robe over her shoulders, Mara walked from the chambers and into the cool night air.
It was a short walk to the Captain’s chambers. When she arrived it was to find Brendan standing in front of the large doors. “I’ve been summoned,” she informed him.
Brendan opened the door without question and announced her arrival. She stepped through the large doors and walked quickly towards the center of the room where Edward stood a few paces in front of the large bed. “Mara?”
“Forgive me,” she stated, “but Phillip is indisposed at the moment. He asked me to answer you in his stead.”
Edward did not question this, but instead gave a single nod. “Members of the Royal family from the Muir Court will be calling upon the Queen next week.”
“Yes,” Mara replied. “I am aware of the upcoming visit.”
“We need to increase the Queen’s security during the visit. Ensure that one of the Sub-Captains are with her at all times. Perhaps we could add one or two of the newer members as well? It would give them a chance to be on a Royal detail.”
“No,” Mara responded too quickly. “I do not believe that we need to add any more new personnel to the regular guard detail at this time. Those assigned can handle the Royal visit.”
“Are you sure it will be enough?”
“Yes,” she replied, a hint of anger beginning to slide i
nto her voice at having her assessment questioned. “The Queen’s regular guard detail should be more than adequate.” How could Edward possibly even consider suggesting placing anyone else within the Queen’s line of vision?
“And you or Phillip will remain with the Queen?”
Aren’t we always, she thought silently. Aloud she said simply, “Yes.”
“At all times?”
Her anger returned more fiercely than before. “Unless you would like to take a shift for once?”
“What?”
Mara attempted to reign in her words. She closed her eyes to clear her head, but instead found herself standing in the torture chamber, bringing the whip down upon Phillip’s back, tearing the flesh from his bones. Her eyes opened and gave in to her anger. “I said, unless you would like to take a shift for once.”
Edward straightened and his eyes began to narrow. “I do not care for your tone, Mara. Do I need to remind you that you are speaking to your Captain?”
“Exactly!” she interjected. “My Captain. Yet you want me to re-organize the guard. Me to guard the Queen you are sworn to protect. When is the last time you placed yourself in a role of leadership, Captain?” She drew a breath but the words continued to tumble forth. “This guard is crumbling. The men are screaming for leadership and everyone can hear them but you! They are calling for you, begging for you, spilling the very blood from their veins to keep the Queen from wondering where you are.” Anger pushed her forward. “Why don’t you take the shift yourself!”
“How dare you!” Edward shot back. “I am your Captain and you will treat—”
“Then be the Captain, Edward!” she all but screamed. “Be the Captain! Open your eyes and lead them!”
“I am doing the best I can.”
“Not good enough!” Mara took a step closer, narrowing the distance between them.
“They need you to lead them, Edward; because I cannot. I am not the Captain, you are. These men—your men—need you now. I’m sorry.” Her voice grew softer. “I’m sorry she died and I’m sorry I wasn’t there when it happened. I will carry her death to my grave. But, Edward, I cannot do this anymore. I need…” She drew a ragged breath as her anger faded to a plea. “They need you.” Her body began to tremble. “I need you.”