The Rose Mark: Black Rose Sorceress, Book 1

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The Rose Mark: Black Rose Sorceress, Book 1 Page 22

by Connie Suttle


  She closed her eyes again after gripping their hands. Armon's eyes opened wider as information was given.

  "That's—I wish they'd taught us that during warrior training," he breathed.

  "Hmmph. I think I can make blasts," she laughed and let their hands drop. "After touching so many warriors and feeling their power."

  I went still. Had that ever happened before? I couldn't recall reading anything about it in any of the history books, but what was available only covered the past two centuries or so.

  "Tomorrow, I want to see you try that," I said. "Take my hand, now, and show me how to make a shield."

  "May I ask a question first?" she asked before hiccupping.

  "Absolutely," I attempted to hide my grin.

  "The wall hanging put up for the vows shows a red rose. Why wasn't the rose black?"

  "That's an ancient hanging, and they only get it out for the vows ceremony," Armon began.

  "But the rose should be black, shouldn't it? Why is that one red?"

  "Sherra, I don't know, but I promise to look into it. Take my hand now and show me what you showed Armon."

  "All right." She reached out and touched my face instead of my hand, however, drawing a finger down the crevice of my scar. "I'm sorry that happened to you," she said. "I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."

  While I drew in a breath at her words, she took both my hands. The shock of information I should have known long ago spread through my mind like lightning.

  Sherra

  I blamed the wine for strange dreams that night. I barely recalled Levi and Armon leaving, with Misten and Caral beside them.

  I was grateful that those four were together; none of them had false expectations from the other. Kerok had given me strange looks after I'd touched his face and hands, but he had to realize I was mostly drunk and had no real control of my words or actions at that point.

  I'd gone to bed shortly after our guests left, and sometime during the night, I'd dreamed of Pottles.

  She kept showing me her left wrist, which bore a red rose.

  I knew that was an alcohol-induced lie—I'd seen Pottles' wrists many times, and they were as empty as any other villager's had been. During the entire dream, I'd attempted to draw Pottles' attention away from what she showed me, so I could speak with her once more.

  Her image in my dream remained mute, and when I woke with a slight headache the following morning, I recognized the dream for what it was—an attempt to go back to happier times.

  Somehow, my question about the banner had insinuated itself into the dream, confusing me more than I already was.

  "Sherra?" Kerok's voice was accompanied by a tap on my door.

  "I'm awake," I called out. "I'll be out in a few minutes." I took the fastest shower my headache would allow, dressed quickly and walked out of my bedroom.

  "Your new fatigues should be here either today or tomorrow," Kerok began.

  "The drudges won't be able to come in," I pointed out.

  "Good point. Go ahead and lift the shield until we get back tonight. We'll make sure there are no surprises waiting for us, and you can replace the shield."

  "All right."

  "Got a headache?"

  "Yes." I hunched my shoulders.

  "I'll have Armon bring something from the post physician when we meet at breakfast."

  "Thank you."

  "Sherra?"

  "What?" I studied my boots rather than his face. Fool that I was, I'd touched it the night before. Now I regretted the impulsiveness.

  "Thank you—for showing me things I'd never dream were possible."

  "It's only fair," I replied. "Don't we need every weapon we have to bear against the enemy?"

  "We do."

  I looked up at him, then, and saw a rather crooked smile on his lips. "Come on or we'll be late for food," he said. "I'm starving." I followed him out the door; he took my arm and stepped us to the officer's mess.

  K erok

  "Dissolve it in your tea, it'll help," Armon handed Sherra a folded paper containing powder from the physician.

  She poured the powder into her tea, careful not to spill any of it. After stirring, she drank a healthy portion of the hot liquid, making a face as she did so. I knew from experience the powder was bitter; she was learning it for herself.

  "Trust me—the bitterness is worth the relief," Levi said. "It helps to eat something, too."

  "Does anyone else have a headache?" she asked.

  "Not today," Armon chuckled. "This is what you get for drinking wine on an empty stomach."

  "And you're telling me this now?"

  I turned away so I could hide my smile.

  "Why weren't you at dinner last night?" Misten asked Sherra.

  "There was a small emergency—I had to speak with the King's advisor, and that made us late," I answered before Sherra had to make up an excuse.

  "Oh. That's all right, then."

  "While the Prince Commander was busy, that's when Sherra told me about shutting anyone out of her shield who tried to step inside it, and that I could probably form a shield myself if she showed me how." Armon was providing more information, which was mostly true—just not completely. He knew not to tell anyone else that Sherra taught Hunter how to form a shield in a matter of minutes.

  Hunter could step and mindspeak, but he'd never trained in any of the other talents attributed to warriors.

  Now, thanks to Sherra, he could form a shield to protect himself and my father if it were necessary.

  "What will we be doing during our training today?" Caral asked.

  "That's up to Garkus," Armon rolled his shoulders. "Could be anything."

  I wanted to snort at Armon's reply. I knew part of what Garkus planned, and had no idea which way it might go. I had a part to play in it, but I was beginning to regret my promise to participate.

  "Eat a full breakfast," Levi counseled. "It'll be a busy morning, and you've not had any training exercises since the trials at North Camp."

  "I hope we get to see Wend, Jae and the others," Misten sighed.

  "You'll see them," Levin grinned. "I promise. In fact, if you'd like to have the midday meal in the regular mess, I'll accompany you."

  "As will I, if you wish to go, too," Armon told Caral.

  "Sherra, if you'd like to go with those four," I pointed my fork toward Armon and the others, "You should be safe enough in their company."

  "Why wouldn't I be safe?" she asked.

  "Remember our conversation before the vow ceremony last night?" I reminded her.

  "Oh. But what if—never mind. I'll go with you, wherever that is."

  I blinked in surprise before considering that she'd meant what she'd said, tipsy or not. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again, she'd told me. I chose to ignore how gentle her fingers had been when they traced the scar on my cheek.

  Sherra

  Kerok didn't want to go to the regular mess for the midday meal. He preferred the smaller numbers in the officers' mess, perhaps.

  Better food, too, I reminded myself.

  I wanted to see Wend, Jae and the others, but would have to depend on Caral and Misten to relay any news from them. Perhaps we'd see them on the training grounds, but there'd be no time for social visits—we'd be put through our paces, and that would require our complete focus.

  Whether I felt like eating or not, I'd finish my food. Employing power would drain it out of us by midday anyway.

  Soon enough, we'd left the mess hall behind and began walking toward the massive training field northeast of the building.

  He wouldn't know it, but I'd constructed a shield around Kerok and me. I hadn't forgotten the King's advisor's words the evening before. Kerok had viewed his personal danger with some skepticism—I knew him well enough to see it in him.

  I, on the other hand, wasn't willing to let down my guard.

  When the fireblast came from nowhere, it was easy enough to include Caral, Levi and the others inside the shield I'd alr
eady erected.

  While there'd been no noise with the blast as there usually was, when it hit my shield it burst with a deafening boom, while sparks and dark clouds of smoke billowed everywhere.

  Kerok had been knocked to the ground, and lay there, writhing in pain.

  Armon and Levi, who'd also fallen, were being helped to their feet by Caral and Misten.

  Separating myself from the shield I'd constructed, I went to Kerok immediately, terror filling every inch of my body. Frantic, I searched him for signs of a wound or injury.

  "Kerok," I shouted to make myself heard over the second fiery blast that burst atop my shield. "What's wrong?" I begged him to tell me something.

  "Get the physician," I shouted at Armon, who appeared to be unsteady on his feet and confused by the second blast that hit my shield.

  It hadn't cracked and still held strong. Caral and Misten were attempting to find what was wrong with both Levi and Armon at that point.

  All I knew was that the physician's cabin was not far from the regular mess hall. "Bring them here," I shouted at Misten and Caral to pull Armon and Levi toward me as a third blast hit my shield with the largest boom yet. Grass was beginning to catch fire around us when our attacker appeared nearby.

  Garkus.

  He'd attempted to step inside my shield, and hadn't been able to do so. With a smirk, he leveled another blast at us from very close range. Kerok stiffened and shuddered in my arms—was he having a seizure?

  I'd never seen one before—I'd only heard about them.

  Garkus' blast hit my shield, shaking the ground beneath our feet.

  Laying Kerok down as carefully as I could, I stood up straight and glared at Garkus. Leave it be, I snapped in mindspeak. Kerok needs the physician.

  What will you do, little whelp? His grin widened.

  Are you the phantom? I queried.

  Phantom? Is that what they call me? I heard his laughter as he prepared another blast.

  I had no idea whether he meant his words or merely played along; either way, Kerok needed help and Garkus was delaying it.

  Here's what the whelp can do, I said, and formed another shield before sending it flying through the one that protected us from his attacks.

  Garkus formed another blast at the same time, and I hadn't realized it until it was nearly too late. Hastily, I enclosed his body inside a second shield, to protect him from his own fireball.

  "Sherra," Caral screamed at me as fire bloomed inside the first shield I'd placed around Garkus. She thought he'd fried himself. I laughed, and for good measure, I sent the outer shield I'd thrown around Garkus bouncing across the training ground.

  Physician, I need you, I shouted at full mindspeaking capacity. As for Garkus, we'd see how long he could hold his breath until his fire used up all the air inside the outer bubble and fizzled out.

  K erok

  "She's not speaking to me—that's how things are," I growled at Garkus, who appeared none the worse for wear after I convinced Sherra to drop her shields around him. "She could have killed you," I added.

  "I doubted your word, Prince Commander," Garkus bowed to me. "I took her on and you played your part beautifully."

  "Fine. You go and explain to her that it wasn't my intent to deceive and that it was just a training exercise," I said. "The physician says she almost blasted his brain apart with mindspeak. He didn't like it that his meal was interrupted, either, so he could make an unnecessary journey to the training field."

  "I'll make it up to him," Garkus said.

  "If I were you, I'd be more worried about making it up to Sherra. She was scared to death, and if I'd opened my eyes at any time during my performance, I'd have seen it."

  "You're going to let her feelings rule your decisions from now on?" Garkus began.

  I had his shirt collar in my fist before I realized it. "My father," I hissed into his face, "charged her with protecting my life. She saw your attack as a threat, and I added to that illusion by pretending to be affected. The next time you decide that her feelings supersede a direct order from my father, feel free to let me know." I shoved him away from me, then.

  Garkus' eyes were wide; he was only now beginning to see the gravity of the situation. "My apologies, Prince Commander," he dipped his head.

  "We're finished. Leave," I waved him out the door.

  Sherra

  "I'm not hungry."

  Caral and Armon had come to the cabin with a plate of food and a cup of tea. I was sitting on the floor in my bedroom, knees drawn up to my chest and my forehead resting against my legs.

  All of it had been fake.

  All. Of. It.

  Including Armon's and Levi's performances. I'd thought Kerok was having a seizure and called for the physician—unnecessarily, as it turned out.

  Because Garkus wanted to test me.

  Fuck him.

  Fuck Kerok.

  And Armon and Levi.

  I could have killed Garkus, and he still didn't realize it—unless I was badly mistaken.

  Jackass.

  "Sherra, I said it was a bad idea, but here, Garkus rules the training sessions." Armon knelt beside me.

  "I don't care. He taunted me while Kerok was having a seizure. A pretend seizure, as it turns out. If you think I can trust any of you after that—performance," I muttered angrily.

  "Everybody in the mess hall is talking about how you responded to the attack," Caral sat beside me. "They all say it's a miracle Garkus walked away from it whole after blasting himself, and then bouncing across the training field until the fire went out."

  "It'll just become another tale that will increase his fame," I grumbled.

  "I know you're mad; I would be too," Armon twisted around to sit on my other side.

  "And I'll be mad until it runs its course," I snapped.

  "Sounds reasonable," Caral agreed. "Nobody ever stopped being mad because somebody told them to."

  "Tell me he won't be training me from now on."

  "I can't say that. He should walk carefully around you, though, if he has any sense," Armon said. "Thorn isn't pleased about the whole thing."

  "Hmmph. He should be a performer in the mummer's folk plays at harvest."

  Caral snickered at my words.

  "At least he isn't ill or injured in reality," Armon pointed out softly.

  "That's the only thing I'm grateful for in the whole, sorry disaster," I huffed. "What would he be doing if I killed Garkus? I'd be facing death myself—isn't that right?"

  "It's unprecedented, so I can't say for sure," Armon admitted. "Nobody has ever been able to do anything other than put up a shield against an unexpected attack from Garkus. He usually breaks through them, too. He couldn't put a crack in yours. Maybe we should have told him about the lightning."

  "Is that what this was—a pissing contest, so he could assert his superiority?" I turned to Armon in disbelief.

  "He has a habit of testing the best of every training class," Armon breathed a sigh.

  "So I get blindsided, think Kerok is dying and fight back. Jackass."

  "Who? Garkus?"

  "How about both of them?"

  "It was sort of like waving a red rag at an already angry bull," Caral patted my arm. "Maybe he'll be more cautious next time."

  "Maybe he should be more cautious this time. Getting in trouble might be worth sending him bouncing across the field again."

  "How is she?" Kerok stepped inside my bedroom.

  "Considering insubordination," Armon said, rising to his feet.

  "You haven't touched your food," Kerok pointed out.

  "I'm not hungry," I insisted. I was, but I'd be damned before I touched food in front of him at the moment.

  "Armon, will you and Caral give me a few minutes with Sherra?" he asked.

  "Of course." Armon gave a hand to Caral to pull her to her feet. He stepped her away moments later.

  Kerok took Armon's place against the wall, sliding down until he sat beside me, almost touching bu
t not.

  "I'm sorry," he said. "When Garkus told me his plan yesterday, that was before Hunter arrived and told us the news from the palace. I realize this had far more frightening repercussions for you than Garkus will ever realize. He doesn't know about the phantom and he won't hear it from me."

  "I uh," I swallowed hard.

  "You asked him if he was the phantom, didn't you?" Kerok guessed what I was reluctant to tell him.

  "Yes. In mindspeak, when he kept hitting us with fireblasts."

  "You didn't know and he'll never guess, so don't worry about it," Kerok sighed. "I didn't mean to frighten you, and now you probably distrust all of us."

  "Yes." I didn't elaborate.

  "I won't do it to you again," he said. "I can't account for Garkus, but I believe you'll be watching his every move from now on. Any respect he may have commanded will never come from the best black rose any camp has ever produced."

  "Hmmph."

  "Tell me what you're thinking," Kerok said.

  "You don't want to know."

  "Yes I do."

  "I'm imagining all the ways Garkus could have died, and they all make me happy."

  Kerok threw back his head and laughed.

  CHAPTER 16

  K erok

  I allowed Caral and Armon to demonstrate the new method to Garkus during afternoon training.

  It served two purposes—it kept Sherra away from Garkus until her anger settled, and allowed me to step to the palace when Father asked me to come for a meeting. Sherra went with me; this would be a first for her.

  She wore her new dress uniform; I requested it as she did more than justice to it. As a precaution, however, I ensured that Drenn was still hiding inside his suite. I had no desire for him to see her, after he'd made threats.

  As for the meeting, I expected an update on Poul's death, in addition to anything else Barth and Hunter could tell me.

  Sherra would be with me as it was discussed. She needed the information if she were charged with protecting my life.

  You're expected to dip your head to the King and reply to his greeting, I told her as she walked with me toward my father's private study. Only a return greeting is expected for Barth and Hunter.

 

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