Chapter Thirteen
The Beast Revealed
Sinew, Fracas, and Parry helped carry Han to his tent and laid him on his cot. Edward, Melee, and Pluck followed behind. Many High Guards gathered to see their fallen commander. Virago stomped in with Flaxen in pursuit.
“Now may not be the best time, my lady,” Flaxen warned.
Virago ignored her and questioned, “How can you allow them to take me?” She grabbed the prince’s arm and told him, “You cannot permit this.”
Edward looked into her blue eyes, seeing her fear. At first she had been an object, a possession for him to obtain to gain the Emperor’s crown but now that she was his, Edward felt a sense of responsibility and a sense that he must protect her. Could this be love?
“I shall not let them,” Edward told her as he squeezed her hand. “I would die first.”
Virago saw compassion in the prince’s face, and this surprised her, so she quieted her tantrum. “I believe you,” she said as she smiled and remembered what awaited her. “But how can we stop the Dreadgons? They are so strong.”
“Please...” Ardor snapped as he couldn’t handle her whining while Han lay near death. He motioned for the High Guards to leave as he said, “There are too many in here.” All but Melee and Pluck left as Ardor looked to the princess but said nothing.
“Maybe it best if we also...” Virago started as she glanced at the Fletching Commander. “He needs to be near those he loves.” She and Flaxen left.
Pluck couldn’t hold back, knelt by the commander’s side, and started, “Han...”
He looked into her face shadowed by the hood. A candle on a stand near his head gave enough light that he saw a tear stream down her furry face. Han told her, “Quiet child, I shall be fine.”
She looked over his battered body and spoke, “I’m afraid...”
Ardor never heard the commander speak with such affection. What was the Northern High Guard doing? This wasn't how a soldier acted.
Han interrupted Pluck and told her, “There is nothing to fear, child.” He touched her wet cheek with the back of his hand, feeling her soft face. Before his eyes she had grown into this amazing woman. She was like his daughter, and he feared for her. Han rested his arms at his sides, looked up at the tent, and closed his eyes, knowing his end was near. He couldn't leave things as they were, so he told her, “I believe it is time.”
Avarice, Vim, and Lord Caliber entered, disrupting Han’s explanation.
Lord Caliber walked with his staff across the dirt floor as he questioned, “Who among us can face these monsters and triumph?” He stopped in the middle of the tent as the Morgog Commander and Vim joined him. “We must save the princess. All shall be lost if she is taken.”
Ardor turned his face red with rage as he asked, “What about you Avarice? It was your men who stole the eggs, and it is your princess who is in peril.”
Vim tensed, stepping forward to verbally come to his commander’s defense, but Avarice stopped him by grabbing his shoulder. The Morgog Commander laughed at the Fletching’s notion. Avarice’s cowardice shocked Vim. Vim knew the Fletching spoke the truth; a Morgog should be the champion.
Outraged by his laughter, Ardor leaped for the Morgog Commander, but Melee held him back. Ardor yelled, “Fass! Let go of me!” He calmed down and ordered, “I am fine. Release me.” Ardor straightened his red cape and his rapier's frog. “I shall face Gar.”
“No,” Han said as he moved and cringed, forcing himself to speak, “Pluck shall be our champion.”
“Commander?” Ardor spat, stunned by Han’s decision. “But I...”
“Why me?” Pluck asked also surprised.
“It is time, time you showed the others,” Han told her as he squeezed her glove. “You are the only one among us with the strength, speed, and–” He motioned to the Lux strapped on her back and added, “–weapon to defeat the Dreadgons.”
“We all saw what the brutes are capable of,” Melee told her as he stepped forward. “If Pluck is to face the Dreadgons, he must rid himself of all loose clothing.”
Her eyes widened at the thought.
Han squeezed her glove again and told her, “It is time. No more hiding.”
Hiding? Ardor stared at Pluck. He had been right, but what did the Northern High Guard hide?
Avarice laughed and then he said, “If he’s our champion, we best prepare to flee with the princess when your High Guard is defeated.”
Melee glared at the Morgog Commander and told him, “Han says Pluck can defeat Gar then he can.” He snarled as he questioned, “Now who is the coward? Ready to flee?”
Avarice didn’t respond only scowled.
Why didn't the commander take up the sword against the Dreadgon? Vim was willing... but he knew that, so there had to be something the commander wasn't telling him.
Han looked to the Morgog Commander and told him, “Avarice, if you and Lord Caliber could give us some privacy, we need to prepare for the match.”
Avarice nodded and added with a smirk, “I need to prepare for our escape.” He, Vim, and Lord Caliber walked out.
Lord Caliber leaned to the Morgog Commander, whispering, “A pity their most experienced soldier has fallen. I do not think he shall survive the night.”
“Yes,” Avarice replied as he added, “A pity.” He waited till they were outside, excused Vim to see to their men and once his Second was out of ear shot, he asked, “What of our plans? If Edward isn’t the one, then who? And what of the Dreadgons?”
“The Dreadgons may be a surprise, but they shall fit in very nicely.”
“What do you mean?” Avarice asked.
“I believe these large beasts shall uncover the one we seek,” Lord Caliber stated as he gripped his wolf-head staff. “The one I have been telling you about since we left the Morgog Kingdom.”
“I remember, someone with the scent of magic.”
“Yes, and just you wait...” Lord Caliber stroked his thin goatee as he said, “It shall soon be revealed.”
Inside the tent...
“Pluck,” Edward started and she turned, rising to face him. The prince witnessed her skills when they fought Matt and his thugs. She was savage yet talented; he doubted anyone else could stand up to the Dreadgons. He had to make her understand that without Virago there would be no Amalgamation. He examined his heart and believed he had grown to... Edward stumbled over his thoughts since love wasn’t a verb used in his family. He liked the princess and she must be saved. He put his hands on Pluck's shoulders.
She tensed as he touched her. Very few people had touched her since her birth, though Pluck yearned for affection. She relaxed under his firm grip.
He caught a glimpse of her emerald feline eyes and then spoke to her, “I know you are afraid, but I need you to fight.”
“I understand, but do you know what you are asking?” Pluck inquired as she pulled her hood closer to her face.
“Yes, I understand. I...”
“No,” she interrupted. “I don’t think you do. If I am to fight, I must remove my cloak.” She whispered, “Everyone will know what I am. You know their reactions. Are you prepared to stand up for me?”
Edward thought about it. She was right. The Fletching people would be outraged and the Morgog’s... He straightened and told her, “I am prepared to stand up for you, if you save my wife.”
Wife... The word cut at her heart. How could Pluck fight to save the princess when she feared Virago would receive the Kiss. Pluck inhaled and exhaled slowly and then she said, “I’ll do this if you will honor what you promised me in the Mystic Rose’s Temple. Do you remember your pledge?”
Edward’s brow wrinkled with wonder.
“The Kiss,” Pluck told him as she scrutinized his face, looking for the slightest hint of deception. She would fall apart if he lied to her. She told him, “That day you promised me the Kiss.”
Han couldn’t believe it; s
he’d never told him what it was that would end her curse and all along it was the Kiss. Would Edward give it to her? Had he already given it away? It wasn't a light request. No wonder Pluck never told him.
“The Kiss?” Edward uttered as his mouth gapped. “The Kiss!” He couldn’t see her face within the shadow of her hood, but he remembered the horror of it. Edward shuddered at the thought of touching his lips to hers as he said, “But I...”
Was the Northern High Guard mad? Ardor couldn't understand what was going on. Pluck couldn't...
“Would you deny me this?” she questioned as the prince’s disgust and refusal outraged her. “It’s the only thing that will end my curse.” She shouted, “For all I have done for you...” Pluck calmed herself and then she told Edward, “This is all I ask. Is it too high a price to save your wife or is it something you have already given away?”
Outside...
“My Lady,” Flaxen whispered as she and Virago stood behind Han’s tent, listening to the conversation within. “We should leave before we are caught.”
“Nonsense. I am the princess. Even if we are caught, what are they going to do?” Virago questioned as they hid among stacked crates and then she ordered, “Quiet, Edward is talking. He is urging one of his men to fight for me.” Virago said with disappointment, “Now I cannot hear them.”
Flaxen leaned in to hear better and told her, “The Northern High Guard is requesting a reward for his bravery.”
“What reward?” Virago asked.
Flaxen strained to hear and then she replied, “A kriss.”
“A kriss. What is a kriss?”
“No, that is not it. The prince is repeating it,” Flaxen said and then her eyes widened as she uttered, “Surely not.”
“What?” Virago asked as she squeezed Flaxen’s hand. “What is it?”
She turned to the princess and told her, “I believe the High Guard has requested a kiss.”
“A kiss?” Puzzled that a man would request such a thing from another man, Virago made a face and then questioned, “Edward has denied him, yes?”
Flaxen leaned closer to the tent and then replied, “Not yet; they are still discussing this.”
Inside the tent...
“No,” Edward told Pluck as he straightened. “I would do anything to save my wife, so I shall bestow upon you the Kiss and to answer your other question, no I have never given it away.”
She was relieved there was still a chance, but Pluck feared he would betray her so she told him, “Swear it as Prince of Fletching and soon to be Emperor of the Five Kingdoms.”
Edward paused and then he said, “I swear. Now please, be our champion.”
Pluck couldn’t bring herself to trust him, so she asked him, “You’ll protect me when the others find out what I am?”
“Yes, yes,” he insisted. “Now please be our champion?”
Outside...
“I am afraid, my lady, that the prince has sworn to give the Northern High Guard the Kiss if he wins,” Flaxen stated and then she bit her lip, knowing the princess wouldn’t respond kindly.
“That is not right,” Virago exclaimed in a quiet tone. “I thought I had married...” She rubbed her temples as she said, “Wait till my father hears about this.”
“Come, my lady,” Flaxen told her as she peeked over the crates. “Several High Guards are moving this way.”
Virago sighed and then stated, “My kingdom for a straight man.”
Inside the tent...
Pluck hesitated, trusting Edward. Han squeezed her hand, and she looked down at him.
Han strained to talk as he asked her, “Who raised you and trained you like you were my son?”
“You did Han,” Pluck answered as she knelt beside him.
Jealousy rose in Ardor. He was Han's Second, so he should be the one at his side.
Han continued, “Then do this for me.” He looked into her face and said, “Swear to me you shall be our champion.” He squeezed her arm as Pluck wavered out of fear and he told her, “Swear it child.”
“I swear it Han. I swear,” she said as tears streamed down her face. Pluck was unable to bear seeing him in pain and without a healer, there was nothing anyone could do, not even to ease his suffering. She pleaded, “Don’t leave me.”
“I’m sorry, but I cannot promise,” Han told her and then heaved a great sigh. “Already my body is growing cold.”
“No!” Pluck screamed as she couldn’t hold back her emotions and then she cried, “No, don’t die. Don’t leave me alone. You are all I have left.” She gently laid her head on his shoulder.
“Stand up, soldier!” Ardor commanded as he couldn’t watch this ridiculous scene play out any longer. “This is no way for you to act.”
Ardor grabbed Pluck and she turned as her eyes flashed green with anger in the darkness of her hood. Filled with rage, Pluck hissed at him like a cat.
Frightened by what he saw and heard, Ardor stepped back as he uttered, “Crell! What are you?!”
“Pluck... Ardor...” Han yelled as he chastised them, then he shivered, and continued, “This is no way for either of you to behave. Now Pluck, it is time. Let me once more see you as you are.” He smiled as he told her, “For soon you shall be whole again.”
She stood, glanced at Ardor and Melee, and then she requested, “Please, send the others away.”
“No, they shall soon know,” Han told her and smiled again to reassure her. “Let them see.”
Pluck shrunk, nervous and apprehensive of how they would react. No one besides Han, Fairah, and Edward had seen her beastly form.
“Go on, child. You are among friends,” Han said to coax her.
For Han she did and Pluck lowered her hood, unclasped her cloak, and threw it on a nearby chair. She turned to Ardor and Melee, waiting for their reactions.
Ardor stumbled back and shouted, “By Fletching!” His face tightened in terror, and he instinctively went for his rapier.
“Stow that sword!” Han commanded.
Ardor reluctantly sheathed his blade, realizing this was Pluck’s horrible secret. The Northern High Guard his rival was a beast and a frightful one at that with emerald eyes that pierced his soul, long white canines, a flowing fiery-crimson mane like a Fire Lion, and beige fur. Fur... He hated what he saw; this was no man, but a beast and an abomination that must be destroyed.
Beauty of the Beast #1 The Mystic Rose- Part A- The Flower, The Sword, And The Kiss Page 25