The Rose Mark: Black Rose Sorceress, Book 1

by Connie Suttle

  "She's needed at the front, Hunter," Kerok sighed. "I'm needed at the front, too, but this is how things are," he tossed out a hand in resignation. "We can't both leave Linel to fend for himself. He was expecting to step back and allow me to handle this attack."

  "Very well," Hunter growled. "Sherra must return to the palace when this threat is dealt with; you know you need her at your side in the coming days."

  "Hunt, don't tell me what I already know."

  "I'm right here," I said, causing both to turn swiftly in my direction. In all my life, I'd never considered that I'd end up in the King's palace for any reason.

  It sounded wrong, somehow. As if events hadn't gone the way they should have and I was still waiting for someone to say they weren't really true.

  "I'd like a few moments alone with Sherra before you go back," Kerok rose stiffly from his chair.

  "Come," Barth motioned for the others to follow him as he walked toward the door. Kerok waited until the door closed behind them before coming forward to take my hands. "I was hoping for a different ending to this night, and planning to move everyone from Secondary Camp tomorrow morning after tonight's dinner with Father was over." He leaned his forehead against mine.

  "I'm sorry about your brother, although I would have been much sorrier if he'd succeeded in his attack. He'd likely have died anyway, the moment I found him afterward," I mumbled. "I care not that it would cost my life—that has always been a moot issue anyway."

  "I," Kerok began before closing his eyes with a sigh. "I don't believe I've ever had anyone say they loved me—not in such a roundabout way."

  "Hmmph."

  He opened his eyes, then, drew back a little way and offered a wry smile. "Stay alive on the battlefield, my rose," he said, his eyes searching mine for a promise of such. "Perhaps we can change the world in some way after all, if you do."

  The kiss that followed his words took my breath away.

  Everyone from the camp had gathered inside the officers' mess at Armon's command. It fell to him to report the evening's events and to tell them to pack for travel to the front.

  "The Crown Prince is dead, after a terrible accident," Armon announced once the room quieted. "This means the Prince Commander has been elevated to that position, and his father, the King, has demanded that he stay at the palace. Therefore, he has issued a command through me—to pack and leave for the front tonight, under cover of darkness. He and the Diviners agree that the enemy is plotting and will strike soon. Our help is needed; therefore, we will go. We stand or fall together, as it has always been."

  "Sherra," Levi said as the crowd began to file toward the door. "We'll meet you at your cabin in half an hour. Pack your uniforms and anything else you have—I know it won't be much. You'll be reporting directly to me, Armon and Linel."

  "All right," I agreed. "I'll be ready." I didn't add that I felt strange without Kerok with me, but that would surely pass.

  K erok

  "Do you wish to send the body to the catacombs, or have someone reduce it to ash for burial?" Hunter asked as I walked toward the suite I kept at the palace. Drenn's suite was reserved for the Crown Prince and was much larger, but I had no desire to take it—now or ever. I'd have Hunter clear it out eventually, to determine whether there was anything that should be kept or returned to the treasury.

  "Barth?" I stopped in mid-stride, causing both my companions to slide to a stop as well.

  "What is it, my Prince?"

  "Would you mind going to Drenn's suite in the morning and making a determination as to whether Merrin may have been there? He had to be meeting with my brother somewhere, and as Drenn locked himself away for weeks, his suite would be the logical place."

  "It will be done."

  "Good." I strode forward again, forcing them to come with me. "Hunter, put the palace on notice—any sight of Merrin should be reported. Any guard or assassin with the power to do so should kill him on sight. Is that understood?"

  "It is."

  "It only makes sense that if he could steal one weapon and the projectiles it requires, he could as easily have stolen a dozen," Barth pointed out.

  "You're not making me feel better about this," I grumbled. "If that gets out, nobody inside the palace will be able to sleep."

  "He is more than dangerous, and once he discovers that Drenn is dead," Hunter began.

  "Hunter, here, in front of Barth, I name you my heir," I said. "You and Father are my only family now; Merrin should be dead already and has no claim."

  "I will wait to record that in the morning, when you've had time to sober up and think more on it," Hunter said. "Here's your suite. I'll have reliable guards placed outside. Shield yourself, Thorn; I will be doing the same."

  "What about you, Barth?" I turned toward him. "Shall I teach you how to shield yourself?"

  "I was hoping someone would," he replied, his words dry as paper.

  Sherra

  "This portion hasn't been occupied for three decades," Linel showed me separate sleeping quarters inside his large, five-room tent. "That's when my last escort died, and Thorn honored my request not to have another. As his second-in-command, more often than not I've depended upon others to keep me shielded while I sleep."

  His smile was tired, and his hair looked grayer than when I'd seen him last, which was only a day or two earlier.

  "You'll have a shield tonight, General," I told him. "I only need to touch your hands to get a feel for your power, so my shield will recognize it."

  He held out his hands; without thinking, I gripped his fingers with mine. The touch sent a jolt through me.

  He, like the King, was dying slowly. He knew it, and held hopes that with Kerok's return, he could leave the army and spend the rest of his days in peace.

  Depending on how things went, he could die from his disease while still attempting to fight back the enemy.

  His power was weakened as a result; he didn't want anyone else to know it, either. Without remarking on what I received through his touch, I nodded to let him know he'd be able to come and go through my shield.

  "Get some sleep, escort. The days start early in this tent."

  "I will."

  Linel left me alone to survey the small cot covered in fresh linens—he'd had someone make up my bed for me. More than anything, I wanted Kerok here so I could tell him of Linel's condition, but that would only add more troubles to an already burdened set of shoulders.

  I'd tell Armon in the morning, and ask him to keep the General's secret. Perhaps Armon could take on more of Linel's duties without being obvious about it—to give Linel some much-needed rest.

  Sleep was long in coming, but Pottles appeared in my dream. It was a disturbing dream, as I watched her mouth words at me from her place among the catalpa trees. In my confusion, I asked her many times to speak louder, only to be met with image only and no sound.

  At the end, before Armon woke me with mindspeak, however, the strange voice intervened again.

  Let it fall, the voice said. Send everyone else away. Place your shield over it before it hits the ground. Step to the rose where Doret stands. Come away before it lands. You are invited.

  Yes, Pottles stood on the same tile-formed red rose I'd seen when I dreamed of her last, until the voice told me to step away before whatever it was met the ground. A vision of fire and blinding light came then, frightening me terribly.

  Why? I shouted back to the voice as the light threatened to overtake me, only to hear Armon's mindspeak, telling me that it was nearly dawn and to get up to have breakfast with him and General Linel.

  M errin

  I didn't take the news of Drenn's death, well. The evidence currently lay at my feet; I'd blasted the whiny escort bitch with a fireball that fried her instantly.

  Thorn was at the bottom of this—most certainly. He'd made threats against Drenn; Drenn had told me himself. If Thorn didn't kill Drenn outright, then he'd had his two hand-picked assassins do it.

  Drenn, dead of a se
lf-inflicted wound? That was bullshit.

  It was fortunate I still had friends in the Council—and the army. My friends in the Council informed me of Drenn's death. My friends in the army were merely waiting for me to tell them that Thorn killed his brother in order to take Drenn's place as Crown Prince.

  "At least I won't have to listen to your bitching," I kicked the charred body at my feet. "Besides, I have people at the front to visit tonight, and plans to make. Don't wait up; I won't be back here again." I stepped away.

  Sherra

  I didn't know it, but Linel had breakfast with his Diviners—three of them—every morning. Food was set in front of us in the officers' mess tent as Linel and Armon listened carefully to what they had to say.

  "All I see is a blinding light that brings fear—and death screams," Olan, the eldest among them, told Linel. "They say they see the light and experience terrible fear," Olan nodded to the other two Diviners.

  Listening carefully while I ate, I watched Linel and Armon closely as Olan delivered his news. Everything he said matched my dream from the night before—except he'd had no words of invitation to go elsewhere. Could I discount that summons, when I realized the warning was a true one?

  "I have a question," I said while Linel and Armon considered Olan's words.

  "Go ahead," Linel nodded.

  "Olan," I turned to Linel's chief Diviner, "Do you have a feeling with your visions—that perhaps this light is so dangerous that the army should flee?"

  Olan exchanged glances with the other Diviners before coming back to my question. "Yes," he lowered his eyes and stared at his plate. "In my visions, I have a terrible feeling that the army will die if we do not."

  "I dislike the idea of deserting," Linel snapped immediately.

  "General Linel," I said, "If the army dies, there is nothing to protect Az-ca. If the light comes, as Olan says, perhaps it is prudent to get out of its way—temporarily."

  "I still dislike it," Linel rumbled.

  "In our visions, there is nothing that tells us we have any power to fight against this evil from the enemy," Olan whispered. "Please, listen to your Diviners in this—we work hard to give you our best information every time. This fearful light—I think we will not survive it."

  Sherra, is there something you're not telling us? Armon sent mindspeak.

  I dreamed of what Olan speaks, I replied to Armon's question. A terrible light, followed by fear, screams and death. This is nothing to discount, Armon, please believe me. Also, Linel is ill, as the King is ill. I felt it when I touched him last night to connect with his power.

  I'll inform the Prince.

  Thank you—I didn't want to tell him last night—he had enough worries already.

  Agreed. Armon shifted in his chair, making the folding seat creak under his weight. Do you truly believe the army should evacuate if the light comes?

  I can only relay what I saw and felt in my dream, and it aligns closely with Olan's description.

  Is there anything else you saw?

  Only that we have to leave before the thing causing the bright light hits the ground, I responded, taking care to leave Pottles and the voice out of my narrative.

  Are you saying that when it hits, the bright light will come?

  Yes, I believe that's it, I agreed. If Olan, the other two Diviners or I see whatever that may be, please take it to heart and order the army to step everyone away.

  Where should we go? Armon asked.

  I'd say Secondary Camp, at the very least—if the light is as bright as I imagine it could be. I found the images terrifying.

  I suppose it couldn't hurt—we can always come back should the images prove false, Armon replied. Stepping in and out takes no time at all.

  Then convince the General, I said. He's balking at the idea.

  I'll take care of it.

  K erok

  You're saying Sherra saw the same in a dream? I mindspoke with Armon after he'd had breakfast with Linel, Sherra and the Diviners.

  Yes. She's quite worried about it, too. Suggested that if it arrives, whatever it may be, that we should order the army to step away to Secondary Camp.

  What about Vale, instead? I suggested, naming the northernmost supply village, roughly ten miles south of the battlefront. You can move some there, while sending Linel and the rest to Secondary Camp. Perhaps you can tell what the damage is quickly, and send for the others if it isn't as bad as what the Diviners think.

  That's a good idea, Armon concurred. I'll select some of our best to fall back to Vale, and tell the others to meet at Secondary Camp, although we have no idea what will bring on the bright light.

  It sounds strange—to be so frightened of a bright light, but I can't deny the accuracy of the Diviners up to now, I said.

  Sherra says Linel is ill—like your father is, Armon admitted. She said she felt it when she connected with him to recognize his power for her shield.

  Damnation, I cursed. Look, get through this and I'll send Linel home. I think you and a few others can handle the army, with my mindspoken input in important decisions.

  I hoped you'd say that—he isn't looking good.

  Make sure he gets away if necessary—even if you have to tie him to Dayl to do it.

  I will.

  Good.

  How are things going there?

  Father doesn't want to cremate Drenn, so we're placing him in the catacombs. Barth is going through Drenn's suite, looking for anything that doesn't belong, and the entire palace is waiting for Merrin to pop out of walls, I think.

  That sound horrifying.

  It is. We're jumping at shadows, now. How's Sherra?

  Fine, except for the dream she had. She says the ill-feeling from the enemy is still present, but she's coping so far.

  Good. Tell her I'll entertain mindspeak from her at any time.

  I'll relay that message, my Prince.

  Sherra

  "I've arranged to send hand-picked troops to Vale, here," Armon tapped a map on General Linel's work table. "At Prince Thorn's suggestion. Everyone else will go to Secondary Camp and wait for word from me, is that clear?"

  I stood in a corner of the General's meeting space, listening as Armon gave the highest-ranking officers an update to carry to their troops.

  "When will we know?" someone asked.

  "When I give the word," Armon said. "If that word comes, leave immediately. Don't wait. Understood? If we determine it's safe to come back afterward, that word will also come from me."

  "Understood, Colonel."

  "A rmon, things are getting worse," I said as he and I walked toward Linel's tent for the midday meal.

  "Worse?" Armon stopped walking, and Caral stopped beside him. Levi and Misten had joined others in the officers' mess tent to eat, while Armon agreed to sit with the General and discuss updates on the plan. "What things?" Armon asked a follow-up question.

  "The—feeling," I floundered for the proper word. "From the enemy, and somehow, it's bleeding into—here," I flung out a hand to include the entire camp. Whatever it was, it contained enough intense anger to burn us to death.

  The boom from a warrior's released blast hitting the ground in the center of camp knocked many down, and those who weren't shielded or prepared died a fiery death.

  "Get the General," Armon shouted as another blast was launched. "Dayl," he shouted.

  Dayl, Linel's messenger, stepped to Armon's side. "Take the General out of here. Now," Armon ordered. "I don't care if he doesn't want to go. Do it."

  "As you command," Dayl said as a third blast rocked our portion of the camp. He disappeared as rock, dust and debris rained down on the shields Caral and I had erected.

  I had no illusions about this turn of events—they hadn't happened in my dream and weren't taken into account.

  Az-ca's army had just gone to war against itself.

  CHAPTER 21

  Sherra

  Shields up, I shouted into every newly-trained rose's mind. If you see the
attackers, get a message to me or Armon quickly.

  On the southwest end of camp, Wend's voice sounded in my mind. They've gathered there to fire at the rest of us.

  Armon was in contact with Kerok—I could tell by his stillness and unfocused eyes.

  "Let's go," I told Caral, indicating that we should step Armon to a place where we could fire back at the traitors.

  She and I stepped him to Wend and Marc's position, a short distance from mid-camp, where the regular mess was located. Marc had been supervising the mess hall as he normally did when the first blast was fired.

  Not far away, a new blast crater lay, with remnants of tents and burned bodies littering the steep sides.

  The first, unexpected blast had killed many, before the remaining escorts nearby could lift shields to protect themselves and their warriors.

  "Prepare for us to fire," Kerok appeared beside Armon, shouting his orders to Caral and me.

  Had I ever expected that our first real battle experience would come fighting our own?

  The short answer was no.

  Kerok hadn't expected it either, and I'm sure he had an ultimate culprit in mind, just as I did.

  He and Armon launched blasts together, which sailed through Caral's and my shields easily, detonating with ear-damaging and ground-shaking intensity against the shields raised by our attackers' escorts.

  Fools, I sent to them. I knew they'd hear me. Merrin is a liar, I added.

  In the short space of time granted while they considered my words, I heard a strange, droning noise coming from the north.

  I turned to look, blinking in the bright, midday sun at the thing that flew toward us.

  Unlike a bird, its wings were fixed, and the drone came from whatever kept it aloft and flying toward us.

  "Kerok?" I gripped his arm—hard.

  The traitors chose that moment to begin firing at us again. Six blasts broke against our shields in rapid succession, drowning out the sound of the approaching machine.