The Black Lily (Tales of the Black Lily)

by Juliette Cross

  “You’ve seen it? The hartstone?”

  “No,” said Sienna with a shake of the head. “But I’ve felt its presence. It beats like a living being sometimes, vibrating so hard you can feel it down to your soul.”

  Arabelle didn’t know what to make of that. Sienna was a little odd for living so long in the forest with no one but the wolves to keep her company. But Arabelle had no doubt that Sienna actually believed she had heard the hartstone. Whether it was real or a figment of her overactive imagination was another thing.

  The crowd in the yard thickened, most of them pointing and staring at the four hart wolves guarding the perimeter, trotting in and out of view.

  Arabelle bit her bottom lip, wondering once more if this was the right move. Kidnapping a vampire princess was a brazen move indeed. Marius had promised her he would do all he could to help find the murderers. But that was the problem. If these monsters had kept themselves hidden from the prince of the Glass Tower all this time, there was no guarantee he would find them and bring them to justice swiftly enough. Her people were dying. And she’d made a promise to lead them toward a better world. Lifting her chin, she sighed with resolve and confidence for this next bold step.

  “Time to join them,” said Arabelle, stepping toward the door. “The sun is climbing higher by the minute.”

  They walked into the crowd of men, pointing to the map on the ale barrel. The gathering parted and quieted with their approach, eyes swiveling to the newcomer Sienna.

  “Hello, pretty lady,” said both Ivan and Evan in unison, with broad grins spread across their faces.

  Sienna rolled her eyes with a turn of her head and planted a hand on her hip, ignoring their greeting.

  The two were brothers, but not twins, and still it appeared as if they shared one brain. Both built like a workhorse, packed with muscle, and always wearing devilish grins. Arabelle imagined their dangerous escapades with the Black Lily only added to their ability to rake in the ladies of Hiddleston.

  “Simmer down,” said Arabelle. “I’d like you all to meet my new friend, Sienna. She will be joining us for today’s mission, as she has a particularly skilled weapon that will come in handy.”

  “Is it true, lass?” asked Ivan. “Are those wolves yours?”

  Sienna lifted her chin with confidence. “They are my friends. And they will help us today if I ask them. Besides,” she said with a mischievous smile, “they hate vampires.”

  A rousing “Hoorah!” echoed in the circle.

  “Has Deek informed everyone of their positions?”

  They replied with nods and “ayes.”

  “Evan, did your contact on the other side of Hiddleston have an estimated time of arrival for the caravan?”

  “Aye, Ira said they’d stopped at her noble’s house overnight, had left yesterday morning and would be traveling straight through.”

  “That will put them passing through Sylus at about noon,” said Deek.

  “Right,” agreed Evan.

  “Oh, Evan,” came a voice from one of his comrades from Hiddleston. “How’d you get that information off of pretty Ira?”

  “I’ll teach you how, Wyatt. When you’re old enough to grow a beard.”

  A chorus of laughter erupted. Wyatt was the youngest of their crew, but certainly stout enough to play his part.

  “Enough,” said Deek. “Everyone needs to move into position. Arabelle, take Sienna with you to the head of the staging spot.”

  “Right,” said Arabelle. “All right, gentlemen. Here we go. For the Black Lily.”

  She tightened her fist in the air.

  “For the Black Lily!” they yelled in unison.

  They dispersed at once, some of them with mounts but most of them on foot. The staging area wasn’t very far. Arabelle mounted Willow. Sienna lifted herself onto Duchess. Barkley paused to watch the sight in complete bafflement, scratched his head, then moved off into the trees.

  “Come on, girl,” said Arabelle, nudging Willow onto the wooded path.

  Meandering along a deer trail where the weeds had grown tall, Arabelle led them closer to Sylus yet remained in Larkin Wood until the carriage road came into view. A stout oak with a fat trunk stood a good distance off the trail on the edge of the tree line. This was the central point of their staging area. Arabelle dismounted and tied off Willow farther back. Sienna slipped off Duchess’s back and whispered something to her. She disappeared with her mate, Luca, who had followed them from the woodhouse.

  Arabelle sat on the side of the tree trunk facing away from Hiddleston. Sienna took a seat beside her.

  “And now we wait,” said Arabelle.

  The two sat in silence, for vampires on the caravan would be able to hear them from far away. Arabelle caught sight of Deek taking his place in the brush on the opposite side of the road. He gave a nod. Arabelle nodded back. Everyone was in position. Waiting.

  The sun rose, slower than usual. A red robin flitted and chirped on the branch above, then his brown-breasted mate joined him, hopping from one branch to another.

  Once more, Arabelle’s mind wandered to Marius and their encounter in her old shack. She’d gone inside to see if there was water left in her bathing pitcher so she could wash Willow’s scratches. She hadn’t sensed someone was inside but had drawn her blade as a precaution.

  When he grabbed her and pressed her body to the wall with his own, Arabelle’s mind had reeled. She’d actually dizzied and thought he’d smacked her head too hard against the wall, but it wasn’t that at all. It was him. Just him. His touch drove her mad with longing. Her desire had grown to a feverish pitch and there was nothing she could do but let go and take what he would give her. And so she had.

  What she wasn’t prepared for was the well of emotions she felt when she’d climaxed at his touch. He’d thought it was regret that had brought tears to her eyes. But it was the opposite. It was her lack of regret and her total feeling of rightness about being in his arms, about his touch and his mouth on her skin. It shouldn’t be so. He was a vampire. Her enemy. A vampire prince. Her greatest enemy. And yet, she knew if she had the chance, she’d do it again. And again.

  Sienna grabbed Arabelle’s hand and nodded toward the road with widened eyes. Arabelle listened but heard nothing. She frowned, wondering what she heard.

  Sienna mouthed, “They’re coming.”

  Within a few seconds, Arabelle heard the rattling of carriage wheels. She smiled and slid up the trunk of the tree, readying herself to put the Black Lily’s second mission into full motion.

  Chapter Twenty

  Duchess, Luca, and the brothers appeared not far from their position deeper in the shadows of the trees. They knew their part. Arabelle still wondered how wild beasts understood human language, but that was a matter for another day.

  The carriage wheels rattled closer. Deek and Barkley appeared on the other side of the road, crouched in position next to the brush. Arabelle couldn’t see the others, but she knew they were there. The archers would be high in the trees. The order was not to kill if they could manage, but incapacitate then extract the princess swiftly and move out.

  Arabelle barely peered around the trunk then zipped back. She held up two fingers to Deek, then six, signaling two carriages and six riders. The riders were Legionnaires, commissioned to escort Princess Vilhelmina to the Glass Tower. With a nod to Sienna, she stepped out onto the road and walked toward them as if on a casual stroll. She feigned surprise to see a royal caravan and escort, the Legionnaires wearing dark green and gold uniforms, the colors of the southern region of Arkadia.

  “Step aside,” said the lead guard, a thin vampire with a fierce scowl.

  “Yes, Sergeant,” said Arabelle.

  She noted the shock on his face that she knew the insignia on his lapel. His scowl deepened. Arabelle waited till the sergeant was nearly level with her as she stood to the left of the road then gave a high whistle.

  Deek, Barkley, the Barrow brothers, and four of their recruits from Hi
ddleston, all beefy field hands, leapt out from their cover and surrounded the caravan, each of them holding a gold-tipped short-sword for close combat. The Legionnaires drew their swords, then a zing of arrows flew through the air. Five arrows hit their marks, in the thigh or calf of the rider. All except the sergeant, who had reared up his horse and barreled toward Arabelle.

  The sergeant’s gray mount came to a stumbling stop when Sienna stepped onto the road with Duchess and Luca. The brothers flanked the second carriage, which surely held the princess. The sergeant’s horse whinnied in fright, shuffling back.

  “Seems your horse has the right idea. Best use caution,” said Arabelle.

  Deek and Barkley stood on either side of her as well. Evan and Ivan’s crew had already yanked the others from their mounts, swords pointed at the injured men who writhed in pain on the ground.

  “You can’t kill all of us,” said the sergeant, venom in his voice.

  “We don’t want to kill any of you. But we will if we have to. Come down from your horse, Sergeant.”

  He glowered and tightened his grip on his sword. Luca crept closer, a thunderous growl in his throat.

  “Please consider your next move. There are archers with gold-tipped arrows aimed at your hearts. They purposefully shot your men in the legs so there was time to extract the arrow before the gold poisons their blood. But the clock is ticking. And as you can smell, they’ll be dead soon enough if you don’t cooperate.”

  There was indeed a smell of burning flesh in the air as the arrow points burned them from the inside out. The sergeant finally sheathed his sword then dismounted and stood before Arabelle. Barkley moved behind him.

  “Who are you and what are your intentions? Robbery?”

  Arabelle smiled. “No. We want none of your finery or jewels.”

  Her gaze flicked to his uniform, possibly one of the prettiest she’d ever seen, with a silk silver cuff at each wrist and lining at the neck, a silver ivy leaf insignia on the left shoulder.

  “What then?”

  “We want the princess, of course.”

  The sergeant’s eye twitched, perhaps preparing his attack, when Barkley pounded the hilt of his short-sword on the back of his head. The sergeant fell unconscious at her feet.

  “Barkley, now was that necessary?”

  “Aye. No talking sense into the likes of him.”

  “Very well. Let’s make quick work of it. Sienna!”

  Sienna followed her to the first carriage while the others knocked each of the remaining Legionnaires unconscious. Arabelle wrenched open the door only to find a priest, hands clasped and head bowed in prayer. He looked up casually, no fear on his face.

  “Well, then. You are the two loveliest captors I’ve ever encountered.”

  “Why, thank you, priest. How is it you’re journeying with the Princess of Arkadia?”

  “I am the family priest and will be performing the marriage ceremony.”

  Arabelle felt a punch to the gut. Marius’s marriage ceremony.

  “Well, I’m afraid the marriage will be delayed for the time being.” For forever if she had her wish. “Come on out.”

  He obeyed and stepped out, careful of his black frock.

  “Evan,” called Arabelle. “Tie up the priest with the rest, please.”

  “Do you intend to harm the princess?”

  “I do not,” said Arabelle as Evan pulled the priest’s hands behind him and began binding his wrists. “I’ve never known a human priest who cared so much for a vampire.”

  “You’ve never met a vampire quite like Princess Mina.”

  “We’ll see in a few moments.”

  “And might I ask whom I have the pleasure of speaking to? With the formidable troop at her beck and call?” He glanced at Deek then at Duchess, standing as tall as him.

  “I’m actually glad you asked. The sergeant is no longer awake and someone needs to carry our message back to the palace.”

  “I am at your service,” he said with a bow of the head.

  Funny priest. He was too calm for someone in danger. And yet, none of the current events, men binding the soldiers and dragging them into the brush, seemed to bother him at all.

  “We are the Black Lily. We are taking the princess hostage. We will negotiate terms with the King of Varis at dawn.”

  “Might I ask the terms now?”

  Arabelle flashed a smile at Sienna.

  “We want freedom from the tyranny of the vampire monarchy. We want to abolish the class system. We want equal opportunity to work for what is ours, and not work to make the rich richer.”

  The priest chuckled. “Is that all? I doubt they’ll be able to hand that over to you very quickly.”

  “No. We are not fools. But negotiations must begin somehow. We would prefer diplomacy to violence.” Arabelle frowned, feeling somewhat hypocritical, since their first act against the crown was an attempt on the life of their prince. And yet, ever since then, she’d realized a less violent route might serve better if they were to avoid outright war. “But sometimes diplomacy needs a little push to get moving along. Laws may be drawn up as swiftly as the king can write them. He knows this.”

  “What you’re asking is—”

  “Impossible?” Arabelle shook her head. “Nothing is impossible. If the Varis family wants their son’s bride back in one piece, they’d best consider our terms. We’ll send a messenger by dawn tomorrow.”

  The priest sobered. “You said you prefer diplomacy to violence.”

  “And we do. So make sure the king understands the better option.”

  “I’m afraid you’re making a mistake. The vampire aristocracy will not relinquish their way of life so easily.”

  “Take him with the others, Evan.”

  Even wrapped a gag around the priest’s mouth then shuffled him off into the brush with the other bound Legionnaires. Sienna stood quietly to the side, listening to the exchange.

  “Deek, be sure you remove all of the arrows. I don’t want another vampire to die and give the king cause for retribution.”

  “Don’t worry on that score. You two get the princess and get out of here while we move the carriages off the road.”

  “Right.”

  She moved to the second carriage, her gold-emblazoned dagger in hand, and pulled open the door. The two occupants inside jumped in their seat. Arabelle had her blade at the ready, unsure if the princess might try to use her vampire swiftness for an attack. But one look at her and she lowered her blade.

  Delicate and pale, with flaxen hair falling to her waist, she clung to a human woman at her side. Arabelle gave a rough flick of the blade toward the entry and held the door wider.

  “Out. The both of you.”

  Wide-eyed and holding onto each other’s hands, they exited the carriage. The princess was tall, taller than Arabelle, but less formidable. She appeared frail in her demeanor, still holding fast to the other woman, a dark-eyed brunette in as fashionable a dress as the princess, both of them draped in emerald green gowns with gold lace trim.

  “Who is she? Your bleeder?” Arabelle asked with a nod to the brunette.

  This was the first time she saw some spine in the princess, who drew taller with her shoulders back and chin raised.

  “This is my lady-in-waiting, my friend, and yes, she is my host. If you harm her, you will suffer the consequences.” The princess’s sea-blue eyes flashed bright with emotion and fierce protection.

  Arabelle smiled, for she was glad to see the woman wasn’t completely spiritless. Yet it was curious that she defended a human so vehemently and also referred to her as her host. She’d never heard that term before for a bleeder.

  “We have no intentions of harming either of you, as long as you both cooperate. We’ll need you to come with us.”

  Sienna stepped up beside Arabelle. The plan was for the princess and her lady-in-waiting to ride double with them back to Sienna’s cabin, where they would be kept until terms were agreed upon with King Varis. The
last thing Arabelle wanted was for the women to feel threatened by two burly men carting them off for who knows what.

  “What are your intentions?” asked the princess, somewhat calmer than before.

  “Our intentions are to return you to the royal family unharmed. After they agree to our terms. But make no mistake, we will kill you if you try to harm one of our own or try to escape.”

  “I am not a killer,” said the Princess of Arkadia. “Lead on.”

  With that, Arabelle pointed to the brunette, “You go with Sienna.”

  The lady-in-waiting looked around, edging away from Duchess as she drew closer. “Where’s your horse?” she asked Sienna.

  “Right here,” she replied, waving her hand to Duchess.

  “Oh, dear God,” murmured the brunette.

  Evan was there to help her up. “She won’t harm you,” he promised gently.

  Duchess crouched lower for Sienna, who climbed on behind the brunette.

  The princess stared at Luca with sheer terror, surely thinking they would be riding him. But Ivan stepped forward with Willow’s reins and handed them to Arabelle.

  He eased close to the fair-haired beauty, his voice soft when he spoke to her. “Pardon me, Princess.”

  For the first time ever, Arabelle heard Ivan say something without a hint of sarcasm or mischievous intent behind it. The man always seemed to be up to no good. But he treated her with gentle words, as if he knew she was more delicate in spirit than most, before he wrapped his bronzed hands around her waist and lifted her up into the saddle. She gripped the pommel and turned eyes forward. Arabelle lifted up in the stirrups behind her and called over to Deek, who was guiding the others to get the carriages off the road and into the brush.

  “Follow the plan,” said Arabelle.

  Deek gave a tight nod. Duchess shot off into Larkin Wood with Luca close behind her. The brothers had already disappeared and headed back to Silvane Forest. Arabelle heeled Willow gently and nudged her into a quick gallop, flying through the lush green forest at a breakneck pace. The princess’s hair blew back into Arabelle’s face until she managed to angle her body away.