Authors: K.L. Bone
“Sorry to wake you, but I wanted to know if it would be okay to get some fresh
air? Being inside this mountain is a little…”
“Of course. Just give me a moment to dress.” He motioned her inside, walking to
the closet tucked into the back wall of the large room. Having been unaware
that he would be away from his court for multiple nights, Regald had not
brought extra clothes. As such, he borrowed one of the red shirts in the
closet. The sleeves were slightly short, but otherwise it seemed to fit nicely.
He quickly secured his belt and sword around his waist before offering Sandra
his arm. She accepted it gladly and he led her down a series of stone hallways
before emerging into the entryway of the mountainside keep.
As they stepped outside, Jake approached from their left. “Where are you
going?”
“Lady Sandra requested a walk around the grounds,” Regald replied. “I offered
to escort her.”
Jake eyed them for several moments. “You cannot go walking around the grounds,
as a guest of our Court, without Ciar Guard protection. I shall accompany you.”
Regald did not question, but merely nodded. “As you wish, Sub-Captain.”
Jake took the lead. “I must apologize, Princess, for my behavior yesterday. I
would love to act as your tour guide, if you will allow.”
“Thank you,” she spoke softly. “But I am not yet a Princess and therefore,
should not be addressed as such.”
Jake nodded. “May I show you around the grounds then, Lady Sandra?”
“Of course, Sub-Captain. I would be delighted.”
The three began their walk along the winding dirt path with Jake pointing out
occasional markers along the trail. They took their time, walking at a
leisurely pace as the morning sun blazed through an almost cloudless sky. “Most
of the Court stays in more modern structures on the opposite side of the
mountain,” Jake informed her. “The Queen among them. She had the palace built
about, oh…I would say, two hundred years ago.”
Sandra gave a soft chuckle, causing Jake to turn and look at her. “Sorry.
Sometimes I forget that two hundred years would be ‘modern.’” She offered a
warm smile which Jake found himself returning.
“Trust me, Princess…sorry, Lady Sandra. It is practically brand new by Ciar
standards. The rooms you were in last night were carved from the mountainside
nearly six-hundred years ago. The underground palace you recently visited with
Captain Regald was ruled by our Queen for nearly nine-hundred years and by her
mother for a thousand years before that.”
Sandra turned to Regald. “The Arum Court isn’t nearly that old, is it?”
“No, my Lady. The Arum Court has only been in existence for half a millennium,
give or take. King Mathew’s uncle, Richard, was the first King, but he was not
considered strong enough to hold the throne on his own. Mathew, a member of the
Black Rose Guard who had just come from a series of victories, was named his
heir. Richard surrendered the throne only a few years after the creation of the
court and Mathew has ruled ever since.”
“You were a part of that guard as well, weren’t you?”
“Yes, my Lady. When Mathew left to become his uncle’s heir, he offered me a
position as his Captain. I knew that Brendan was next-in-line to be Mara’s
second in command, so when Mara gave me her blessing to leave, I accepted the
King’s offer.”
Sandra nodded as they continued around the winding path. A cool breeze blew
across the mountains slowly being warmed by the blinding rays of the sun which
now hung high above them. The green grass rolled gently down the hill, the
color scheme interrupted by the occasional patch of wildflowers. Sandra slowed
her pace and waited for Regald to step beside her. “It’s so beautiful,” she
said softly. Mountains rose higher in the distance, the tallest of the peaks
capped with ice that had been there since the cretaceous period. She stood
silently for several moments, taking in the breathtaking views, the wind
pulling at the edge of her dark blue gown.
“Regald,” she said softly. “What is happening to me? Why will no one tell me?”
She turned and tilted her head up in stare into his eyes. Yet even as he met
her gaze, she heard the faint echo of that angelic laughter. She closed her
eyes tightly against the sound, prompting Regald to reach toward her.
He pressed his palm to the side of her face. “Stay with me.”
She turned her head to the right, pressing her cheek more firmly against his
hand. She forced herself to open her dark eyes to stare into his pale green
ones. His expression was soft, concern showing plainly on his features. “We
will help you, Sandra. You have my word.”
She drew a deep breath, the laughter pushed back by the sound of his voice. She
placed her hand over his and he slowly lowered his arm, his fingers
inter-lacing with hers for a brief moment before he let go, offering her a much
more formal grip on his arm. She slid her arm over his, the skin contact
unusual in the borrowed shirt instead of the long sleeves he normal wore.
Jake, who had remained silent during this exchange, motioned in a sweeping
gesture in front of them. “Shall we continue the tour, my Lady?”
“Yes. Please lead the way, Sub-Captain.”
“Jake. No need for formalities.”
She nodded. “Then please address me as Sandra. As I said, I am not a Princess
yet.”
Jake smiled and continued the tour. They walked past a series of large,
towering stones upon which lay the names of many heroes who had come before.
Past a series of fields where various members of the Ciar Court Guard stood
conducting their morning exercises, a few running along the green grass while
others faced off with swords in their hands.
However, when they reached the edge of the garden, Jake stopped walking so
suddenly that Regald almost ran into him. Jake stared wide-eyed at the garden,
his lips parting as he said, “By the Gods.”
“I thought the roses never flourished here,” Regald said from a few paces
behind them.
“They don’t,” Jake answered. “Or at least…they didn’t.” He walked forward
towards the small stream which ran through the center of the garden. Where the
night before the garden had consisted of only a few scattered flowers, now the
roses lined the entire length of the stream, rising from the ground in a
cluster of climbing and intertwining vines that matched the height of the men
who walked towards them. They bloomed in royal purples and deep reds—colors
that had not been seen in over eight hundred years.
“It’s the same thing that happened on the grounds of the Lorcan Court. The
roses changed color.”
“I
am going to get Edward,” Jake replied.
It
took fifteen minutes for the Captain to arrive. Similar to the two other men,
he was unable to keep his surprise from showing.
“What
does it mean?” Jake asked from beside his Captain.
“I…I
don’t know.”
Mara awoke with a knock on the door, pulling her from the torturous memories
depicted so clearly in her dreams. She ignored the sound, but the unwanted
visitor opened the door in spite of the withheld invitation. No one in Mara’s
own guard would be foolish enough to do so, which narrowed the identity of her
intruder to one. “Go away, Garreth.” He continued to ignore her, walking slowly
across the room until she felt his weight settle upon the side of the bed.
Lying on her side facing away from him, he sat still for several moments before
his hand touched her shoulder gently. She was not sure what she expected, but
the feel of her cousin wrapping his arms around her in an awkward embrace was
not it. The feel of another’s touch, for which she had so long denied herself,
was enough to bring fresh tears to her eyes. She fought them back. “Mara,’ he
whispered softly.
Only
the voice did not belong to Garreth. She jerked up, twisting her body around to
face the man who held her. “Phillip.”
“Mara.
My brave, brave
girl.”
She
rose to a seated position, leaning more fully into his embrace. “Phillip.”
She placed her head upon his shoulder and he pulled her close. “I’m dreaming.”
“Yes.”
“Please,
don’t force me to wake. “
He
stoked her back, running his fingers through the long strands of her dark hair.
“I’m so sorry, my Lady. But you must.”
She
shuddered in his arms. “It hurts, Phillip. I don’t know how much longer I can
do this.”
He
kissed her brow, and suddenly she could hear the sound of the soft ocean waves.
Mara pulled back and was kneeling again on that long abandoned beach. Once, it
had been the living, beating heart of the Muir Court. But now, only the ancient
ruins remained. It had been here on this beach that Mara had led the Black Rose
Guard to their most famous victory.
The
Arum court had not yet come into existence the day that the Ciar declared
formal war upon the Muir. However, since it was the Princess that was being
avenged, the honor-bound Black Rose was in charge of the attack. The Black
Rose, transformed over the course of nearly two hundred years, stood as an
assemblage of the most skilled warriors the Ciar Court had to offer, save one.
They had been charged with sneaking into the ancient keep and opening up the
gates. Instead they had slaughtered nearly everyone inside long before the bulk
of the Ciar Court was able to join them.
Mara
remembered cascading over the high walls. The entry point upon the wall had
been carefully chosen after years of silent observation. The Rose had plotted
this night to perfection; right down to knowing the rank of every single
guardsman who stood upon the wall. She reached the ground and walked quietly
towards the thick wooden door which was all that stood between her men and the
inner halls of the palace with Phillip following closely behind her. A single
man stood before the door, wearing the dark blue of the Muir Court Guard. Mara
walked directly towards him. The man actually raised his hand in greeting, not
realizing who or what she was. When she reached him, she paused a single moment
and raised her blade in a practiced movement, driving its deadly edge into the
side of his neck. Blood splattered her clothes as she proceeded to open the
large wooden door.
On
the opposite side, two additional members of the guard were seated at a table
as Mara and Garreth stepped forward, side by side through the wide entryway. It
took only three long strides to reach them. Mara slid her blade across the
throat of the man seated on the right while Garreth did the same to the one on
the left. Blood gushed from the open artery, but the men convulsed with only a
slight gurgling sound. The Arius blade Mara carried had once belonged to her
father. It had been given to him by King Cathair the day he had married her
mother.
She
slipped down the hall, leading her men as they killed all in their path: man or
woman, it did not matter. When they reached the royal apartments, her men
entered the rooms, forcing occupants from their beds and into a large parlor
which stood in the center. In the center of the group stood King Dacian and
Queen Sophia who had stood by his side for over a thousand years. The couple
had three sons and two daughters, all with the same blue eyes. But Mara’s
piercing gaze was fixed upon the Crown Prince.
“Mara.”
Phillip’s voice drew her back to the beach. She was dressed in a thin blue gown
covered with thousands of tiny crystals which sparkled in the light of the sun
now sinking into the ocean waves. “You are even more beautiful than I
remember.”
“Liar.”
In
reply, Phillip offered a sad smile and ran his hand gently down the side of her
face. “You look sad, my Lady.”
“Please,
let me stay. I want to stay.”
“I’m
sorry, my Princess. I would give anything to take away your pain. But alas, we
both know it is the one thing I have never been able to do.” Regret shined
through crystal blue eyes. “I am sorry, Mara.”
“You
did what you thought was right.”
“It
was wrong. So wrong. I hurt you. I never meant to, but I did just the same.”
“Oh
Phillip,” she said, pursing her lips. “You were scared and that was my
fault.”
“I
would give anything to take it back.”
She
remembered it all too well. It had been the day they had learned the true
identity of Liza’s killer. The vow of the Black Rose was an ancient order from
the most powerful of the immortal beliefs. It was tied to a vow of vengeance
which Mara, and all those who had left the Ciar Court to follow her, had taken
before the Gods of old. The vow of the Rose: Rosa Nigra te in vita tueatur
teque in morte ulciscatur.
May the Black Rose Protect you in life and avenge
you in death.
According to the tradition, all subjects within a given
immortal court belonged to a single, ancient bloodline. The revelation that the
man they sought was a Prince of the court could only result in one outcome.