The Rose Mark: Black Rose Sorceress, Book 1

by Connie Suttle

  "We got what we wanted," Caral put an arm around Misten's shoulders. "Sherra's right."

  What about what you want? Armon sent.

  Armon, don't bring that up. Things are how they are, and I think you understand that.

  He won't mistreat you. He may be aloof or abrupt, but never cruel. It isn't in him. He's still grieving. Give him time.

  My time may be limited, I reminded him.

  Understood. Live in the day, Sherra. Let tomorrow take care of itself.

  He was right, but I found it difficult to turn off the worry that had dogged my every step for eighteen years.

  We came away from the tailor's building with a uniform each, to wear to the vow ceremony later.

  The dress uniforms were black; Caral's and mine had our rank displayed on our sleeves. Mine had the addition of a small crown between the stripes.

  As often as I'd silently cursed the King, perhaps it was nature's revenge that I'd end up with his son. Armon was right—Kerok wasn't cruel. He could be indifferent, however, and that made me more than afraid to get to know him better.

  Call it self-preservation, Sherra, I cautioned. He'll hold himself away from you—you must do the same.

  K erok

  When Garkus outlined his plan for the following day in mindspeak, I felt a small shiver of concern. At least I'd be a part of it, and could call a halt if it were necessary. He'd been working this out during our more intimate meeting, and then informed me afterward.

  It required my cooperation, or it wouldn't work.

  Are you sure of this? I can't predict, I began.

  You can't predict the enemy, either. I hold the upper hand as senior training instructor, he reminded me. Even in matters concerning the Prince.

  Then I have no further objections, I replied.

  Except that I did.

  Perhaps he needed convincing. I hoped he'd get as much of that as he wanted in the morning.

  Meanwhile, I had the vow ceremony to prepare for; I'd be reading the group vows for the others. I'd decided to allow Armon rather than Garkus to read vows to Sherra and me.

  Vows. I was still living by the vows I'd taken with Grae and that might always be. Yes, I felt the guilt of cheating a deserving black rose, but my heart wasn't cooperating. I was hoping a cautious friendship would be enough for both of us.

  If the vows weren't a requirement by law, I'd dispense with them between Sherra and me. I trusted her well enough to do the right thing; I merely wished she didn't have such a morbid view of her life.

  Every black rose in the compound—with the exception of Sherra—believed she'd be the one to survive and live to old age.

  Statistics told a different story. I'd never seen one last ten years, and I'd served as Prince Commander for more than forty-five. I'd studied the records for the past century, too, and the tale was always the same.

  I had thinking to do, so I walked back to the cabin instead of stepping there.

  Sherra

  The closer the time came for our vows and evening meal, the more my stomach churned. I wondered whether I'd be able to eat anything at all when Kerok walked through the front door and interrupted my thoughts.

  "Did you get a uniform for tonight?" he asked, his forehead wrinkling as he frowned at me.

  "Yes."

  "You look pale. I think I have a bottle of whiskey in my bedroom," he said. "It may help with any nervousness."

  "I'm not sure that will help."

  "Feeling queasy?"

  I nodded at his question.

  "Sit down." He took my arm and pulled me toward a nearby chair. "Now, put your head down between your knees and breathe deeply. Let me know if you need to step outside," he added, once my head was down and I was concentrating on my breathing.

  Sitting that way for a few minutes helped—I no longer felt as if I were going to lose what I'd eaten at midday.

  "It's a common occurrence," Kerok said, giving my back a rub and a pat. "Fresh air helps too, sometimes."

  He'd done this before—for other black roses. Grae, perhaps. I resented it—that this was business as usual for him, and there was no affection in any part of it.

  "I'm fine." I rose to my feet and walked toward my bedroom, shutting the door behind me.

  K erok

  Something changed in Sherra the moment I said it was a common thing and patted her back. She stood and walked away, shutting her bedroom door to separate us.

  Because you've done this many times, and this is her first, jackass, I called myself what she'd called me when we first met on the training field.

  I was beginning to regret telling Sherra about Grae; telling her I wouldn't love her and couldn't.

  Hunter often said I was too honest at times, and I had only myself to blame for this. No part of this was fair, but I'd done it in an effort to save her life—I hadn't forgotten about the book and Drenn's knowledge of it.

  As for other things—the laws regarding escorts hadn't changed in centuries, and I was in no position to make changes. Father didn't want to discuss those things and Drenn wouldn't listen to even the best advice if it came from me.

  At least the book was no longer in his hands, and he had no real proof that Sherra ever had it. My proof had come from Barth, who would never say a word as long as Sherra served faithfully at my side.

  Striding to Sherra's closed bedroom door, I tapped on it. "Are you all right?" I called out.

  "I'm fine."

  "Get your uniform on; it's nearly time to go."

  Sherra

  I combed my hair for a third time before giving up—it would curl however it wanted and there was no help for it.

  Boots had been provided with the uniform—black to match the trousers. I'd never had such expensive clothing, yet it was something I'd have chosen not to wear had the choice been given.

  I was marked as Kerok's escort by the tiny crown embroidered between my Captain's bars. I didn't feel like a captain or any other officer. Instead, I felt desperate and afraid.

  Squaring my shoulders before the mirror in my bedroom, I released a breath and headed for the door. The sooner I started, the sooner it would be over.

  I didn't realize Kerok wouldn't be ready yet; he walked past as I opened my door, seemingly deep in thought.

  Without his shirt on. I received my first glimpse of the scars he wore on the rest of his body. A deep one down his right side; another on his back, disappearing into his trousers. Those kinds of wounds destroyed people.

  What had killed his escort had almost killed him, too. The army had almost become leaderless, I realized in that moment.

  He was the Prince Commander, and unless I missed my guess, he and Grae had been on the front lines during that battle. He wore two tattoos—one on each upper arm—the usual fireball every warrior wore on his right arm, and an entwined rope of thorns on the left, echoing his proper name.

  Kerok turned, still frowning, only to discover that I was watching him. That's when I realized he was mindspeaking someone. I held up a hand and turned to go back into my bedroom—he could have the privacy needed for his mental conversation.

  Instead, he waved me toward him. I went, although I had no idea what he wanted.

  "Hunter is coming," he said, pulling me to his side. "One of Father's assassins has been found dead just outside the palace. He and Hunter are worried that we may all be targeted."

  "Dead? How?" I whispered in shock.

  "We don't know—the body was found half an hour ago by a palace guard. Father's physician is examining the body now."

  "This is terrible," I said. "You don't think someone is targeting your family, do you?"

  "Are you confessing that you don't think they're all bad?"

  "I didn't say that." I hunched my shoulders and drew away.

  Hunter arrived then, curtailing further discussion. "You may need to post extra guards here," he said after greeting us.

  "I'm not sure why you think I'm in danger," Kerok pointed out.

 
; "Whoever killed Poul stepped in to do it. That means any of us could become targets," Hunter insisted.

  "Nobody is allowed to step onto the palace grounds without permission from the King," Kerok said.

  "Exactly my point. Barth has done his work and like ah, other recent deaths, he cannot find clues."

  I knew something was wrong the moment Hunter hesitated over his words. I wanted to ask about other deaths. That could be a mistake.

  "Do you suppose the same one," Kerok began.

  "We do." Hunter shook his head.

  "I can have wine brought," Kerok said and offered Hunter the same chair I'd sat in earlier to relieve nausea.

  "I'll take it," Hunter nodded. "This is becoming much worse, and we have no idea how to fight a phantom."

  "I doubt it's a phantom, Hunt. Armon is on the way with a bottle of wine."

  Hunter's words chilled me. Kerok's answer didn't allay my fears.

  What was happening?

  CHAPTER 15

  K erok

  "Armon is aware of the difficulty, Hunter," I explained after I let Armon in by the front door.

  Sherra stood nearby, trying to make herself smaller, I think. The poor woman was tall and too conspicuous to be successful at it.

  She was hearing the worst of things without the benefit of any explanations. Hunter had referred to the killer as a phantom, and Sherra had slapped a hand over her mouth to keep from speaking.

  "Good. I trust you'll bring your rose into the tale? She needs to know, Thorn, that your life could be in danger, too."

  "I've asked to have the vows delayed, and told Garkus to have the evening meal served now," Armon reported.

  "Good," I nodded. "Hunter, my main concern is and always will be with Father. You know what could happen if he isn't guarded carefully."

  "Hmmph," Hunter snorted. He knew as well as I what sort of chaos Drenn would cause after taking Father's place, and the least of those things would be rampant favoritism in his appointments.

  I shuddered to think how the laws might be corrupted to suit his whims.

  "Barth suggests tracing Poul's movements the past few days, and speaking with those who saw him."

  "You mean he's going to divine those who had any dealings with Poul, to see whether he was friend or foe, don't you?" I asked.

  "Yes. We've all seen what the victims of the past were. It's only right that we also delve into Poul's dealings."

  "Then delve into Wendal's dealings, too. They're never far apart." I raked fingers through my hair in frustration after naming Father's second assassin. Poul and Wendal were responsible for dispatching Ura, and Poul was tasked with removing Merrin's power before I left him in the poisoned lands.

  "Was it Father's decision only on Merrin's fate?" I asked.

  "Drenn argued with him, but your Father said Drenn was in enough trouble as it was. I trust your father's decision wasn't swayed in the case, although I never asked Barth about it," Hunter replied.

  "Will you keep me informed on everything you find?" I asked.

  "That was Barth's suggestion, and I fully support it."

  "What is the word coming from the Council's flapping mouths?"

  "They're fluttering around like sparrows, all worrying they could become targets," Hunter said.

  "Drenn?"

  "Has locked himself in his suite and only opens the door when food or drinks arrive. He doubled the guards outside, however, before locking the door."

  That didn't surprise me. If Drenn thought his life truly in danger, he'd hide in any way he could.

  "I'm hoping Sherra can do for this cabin what she did during the flood at North Camp," Hunter went on.

  "You mean cover it with a shield and leave it overnight?"

  "That's precisely what I mean. Barth insists, as does your Father."

  "Sherra?" I turned toward her, then. Her eyes were wide as she blinked at me. We'd just dropped news of a phantom killer on her, and after her previous nausea, I worried she hadn't heard me.

  "I, uh," she began before her voice cracked and she tried again. "I put up a shield the moment Armon came through the door."

  "Excellent," Hunter beamed at her. "Most excellent. Young woman, I bring you the King's own words; charge her with protecting my son's life at all costs."

  "She'll have to touch you to allow you to leave the cabin," I said, my words dry. "Unless she lowers the shield, and I really don't want that to happen."

  "Touch me?" Hunter was curious immediately.

  "So she can communicate your presence, which her shield will then recognize and allow you to pass through it. Like the fireblasts at the final testing."

  "Remarkable." Hunter held out his hand to Sherra. She took a step forward so she could touch it.

  "You have latent power," she told Hunter before letting him go.

  "The King wanted me as his advisor, therefore that is what I am," Hunter smiled at her.

  "You could protect him, I think, if you put your mind to it."

  "Fireblasts in the palace? No," Hunter shook his head.

  "Shielding," Sherra said. "Here, let me touch you again, so you can see how it's done. If you worry for your King's life—or your own, this could be useful."

  I watched as Sherra lifted both his hands in hers and sent mindspoken instructions.

  "Now try it," Sherra backed away. "Yes, that's it—I can feel it," she said. "Make it stronger. Pretend it is a wall of diamond that nothing can break through."

  "Wait," I said and reached out for Hunter's empty wineglass. Drawing back, I tossed it toward him.

  It shattered against the shield he'd built. Sherra, mindful of the shards, captured most of them in a shield of her own and set them down on the table.

  "I built a shield," Hunter grinned at me. "I built a shield."

  "Don't forget to raise and lower quickly when necessary," Sherra reminded him. "Assassins are never slow—according to the tales I've read."

  "Do you think you could teach me the same thing?" I asked her.

  "I think so. It can't hurt to try, can it?"

  Sherra

  "Repeat after me," Armon said. "I Sherra, promise to protect Thorn, Prince Commander of the King's army, with all my power and all my being."

  I repeated Armon's words, but I never looked at Kerok as I said them. Keeping my eyes fixed on Armon and the small book he held, I determined to get through the vows without my voice breaking or tears forming.

  "I promise to keep his secrets, and defend him against all enemies," Armon continued.

  "I promise to keep his secrets and defend him against all enemies," I recited.

  "Prince Commander, repeat after me," Armon turned to Kerok. "I, Thorn, will stand with you as long as you live," he said.

  "I, Thorn, will stand with you as long as you live," he said, his voice even. I wondered how many times he'd said it before.

  "I will keep your secrets and defend you against all enemies," Kerok echoed.

  "I will value your life as long as you live," Armon read from the book.

  "I will value your life as long as you live."

  I had a problem with that last line, but this wasn't the time and there'd never be a place to voice that opinion. The King controlled the wording of the vows, and I doubted he'd listen to any escort's opinion on the matter.

  "I pronounce you bonded," Armon said. Kerok lifted my left hand and kissed the rose on my wrist. I didn't watch and attempted to block the feel of his lips on my skin. I shivered anyway.

  I'd already listened to the group vows read earlier by Kerok, and watched closely as my friends repeated their names as they made them.

  A few in the room smiled at their warrior partner as the vows were made. Many others had hope in their eyes as they spoke. A few were pale and worried, but like me, spoke the vows anyway.

  What else could we do?

  We were marked and the end stage of our lives had begun.

  "C ome to our cabin and bring wine," Kerok invited Levi and Armon, inc
luding Caral and Misten in the invitation.

  "I'll grab plates of food for you," Levi offered. "You didn't arrive in time for dinner." He was worried that Armon hadn't eaten, either, but didn't point that out.

  "Good idea, thank you," Kerok replied.

  "I'll help," Armon offered.

  "Will they all be able to get through your shield?" Kerok turned to me.

  "Yes. Armon, step to the front porch, and then walk in, all right?" I told him. "My shield will allow you to walk in. I'm working to prevent anyone from stepping inside the cabin."

  "How can you do that?" Kerok frowned at me.

  "You use a certain energy when you step—I've felt it every time. I just have to block that energy with my shield. Nobody can step inside the one around the cabin."

  "Father of warriors," Levi breathed. "That's—can we test that?"

  "If you want to, but bear in mind you may bounce across the yard from the attempt."

  "I may trust you on it tonight," Levi held up a hand and grinned at me. "We'll test it in daylight, so Misten can wrap a shield around me when I fall."

  "We'll try that soon," Kerok agreed. "Let's get started—I'm hungry and we have a long day tomorrow."

  K erok

  "Show me how," Caral sounded excited as she and Misten asked Sherra to teach them how to prevent someone from stepping inside their shield.

  "Hands, please," Sherra laughed and took a hand from each before closing her eyes. She'd had two glasses of wine on an almost-empty stomach, and was in the middle of eating leftovers from what should have been a celebratory dinner earlier.

  "That's how you can tell," Caral breathed as Sherra released hers and Misten's hands. "I never thought about that."

  "I'd suggest trying it with someone close to the edge of your shield, so they won't fall so hard," Sherra giggled.

  I made a mental note to get her tipsy more often.

  "Our turn," Armon grinned. "Show Levi and me how to make shields."

  "That's so easy," Sherra waved a hand in the air. "Come on, let me have your hands."