by Bone, K. L.
Black Rose
By K.L. Bone
Text Copyright © 2014 Kristin L. Bone
All Right Reserved
Cover Art © 2014 by Skyla Dawn Cameron
First Edition: Oct. 2014
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Dedication:
This novel is dedicated to my mother, Tracy, and my mum, Teresa, for supporting me through every twist and turn of this story and its path to publication.
To my writing partner and best friend, Jonny R. – thank you for all your encouragement, support, humor, and everything in between.
And to my teacher, friend and lifelong mentor, Mike S.
Table of Contents
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Chapter XIII
Chapter XIV
Chapter XV
Chapter XVI
Chapter XVII
Chapter XVIII
Chapter XIX
Chapter XX
Chapter XXI
Chapter XXII
Chapter XXIII
Chapter XXIV
Chapter XXV
Chapter XXVI
Chapter XXVII
Chapter XXVIII
Chapter XXIX
Chapter XXX
Chapter XXXI
Chapter XXXII
Chapter XXXIII
Chapter XXXIV
Chapter XXXV
Chapter XXXVI
Chapter XXXVII
Chapter XXXVIII
Chapter XXXIX
Chapter XL
Chapter XLI
Chapter XLII
Chapter XLIII
Chapter XLIV
Chapter XLV
Chapter XLVI
Chapter XLVII
Chapter XLVIII
Chapter XLIX
Chapter L
Chapter LI
Chapter LII
Chapter LIII
Chapter LIV
Chapter LV
Blood Rose – Preview
Acknowledgement & Thanks
About the Author:
Chapter I
For the first time in over six hundred years, Mara dreamed of the sea. As she walked along the ancient walls her feet sank softly into the sand beneath her. Mara was reluctant to face the water, foaming in soft waves behind her with an elegance that was held only by the sea. The sky was painted in pinks, oranges and reds. The sun slowly rose from the water, as though emerging from the ocean’s deep blue waves. As Mara finally turned, the scene, so clear in her mind, was even more beautiful to behold. Taking a deep breath, Mara could taste the salt on the tip of her tongue. She closed her eyes and took several steps forward, allowing the sand and salt to saturate her pale skin as it absorbed the first rays of the rising sun.
As she reached the edge of the water, she lowered her hand, allowing the foam to wash over the tips of her fingers. She knelt down upon the beach as the wind bit at the edge of her full length royal blue gown. A shadow fell over her face. She did not need to look up to know who it was. “Philip.”
“Hello, my Lady.” His voice was deep and gentle, the way it had sounded all those centuries ago.
“Is it my time, my Lord? Have you come to take me away?”
His bronze hand came into Mara’s view, raising her chin to meet his crystal blue gaze. “Do you truly wish it?”
“Every day.” Her usually strong voice came out soft and unsure. “I have much to atone for.”
He stared at her for several moments, and a look of sorrow came into those blue eyes. “You know that you cannot stay here.”
“Why? It should have ended, all those years ago.” The wind blew her hair softly behind her. “I should have followed you into the sea.”
“Do not say such things, my Lady. You must go back. He needs you now.”
“Needs me?” she whispered, confused. “He has not needed me in centuries.”
“If you do not find him, he will surely die.”
With those words, the dream changed. The purple hues of the sky began to spread, swallowing the lighter pinks and reds that lay throughout the clouds. It spread from the water to fill the sky, all the while changing from purple to grey. The water grew darker and rose in ever- increasing waves before rising up in a high wall which reached to blend with the ever-darkening sky. The water and sky turned black as the ground beneath Mara’s feet transformed from soft sand to hard stone. The sun dimmed to a small flame, becoming the only light visible in the darkness and Mara once again found herself standing inside those dark, horrifying chambers.
She closed her eyes, but was unable to block out the sound of the young woman’s voice, begging for the release of the man Mara knew would be lying on the blood soaked sheets. Her eyes opened against her will and she saw him there, lying nude across the bed. A beautiful woman lay naked beside him, terrible in her wild beauty, a bloody, silver knife clutched in her left hand.
“No!” Mara screamed as she was pulled from the dream in a violent jerk. “Edward.” She called out the one name she had not spoken since the night that Phillip had died. “Where are you?”
Mara hugged her knees to her chest, her body shaking from the impact of the dream. She fought to draw several deep breaths before turning to glance at the small clock. It would be just after midnight at the Ciar Court—crazy to call this late.
Yet no sooner than this thought entered her mind, she disregarded it. Rising from the bed, she grabbed her phone from a small desk in the left corner of the room. She dialed a number she knew by heart, despite rarely ever calling it. Moments later she was greeted by the secretary of the Ciar Court Guard.
“I need to speak with Edward,” she told the young woman on the other end of the line.
“I’m sorry,” the woman replied. “The Captain is away on assignment.”
“Then patch me through to whoever is in charge of the guard while he is away.”
“Do you mean Sub-Captain Jake?”
“Yes! Jake, Garreth, whoever Edward left in charge.”
“Umm, I’m sorry.” The woman did not sound nearly apologetic enough for Mara’s taste. “Sub-Captain Jake gave orders not to be disturbed.”
“Tell Sub-Captain Jake that it’s a pretty woman on the other end of the phone.”
“I think he’s with a pretty woman,” the secretary replied. “Which is the reason he is not to be disturbed. I’m sorry, ma’am. I can either take a message or you are free to call back tomorrow.”
Mara sighed. She would have to do this the hard way.
“Tell the Sub-Captain that Mara Sethian of the Black Rose needs to speak with him. He can either come to the phone, or I will get on a flight and knock down his door!”
“Did you say, Black Rose?”
“Yes. The Captain of the Black Rose, to be more precise.”
“Oh,” the woman said, suddenly sounding much younger than she had over the past few minutes. “Right away, Captain. I will get him right away.”
The other end of the line went quiet as the call was transferred. Approximately thirty seconds later, a rather tired sounding m
ale voice came on the line. “This had better be important.”
“Jake,” Mara said, “when exactly did Edward get the crazy idea to make you his second?”
A moment of silence followed before Jake answered. “He ran out of all other candidates for the job.”
She laughed. “Yes, I figured that is what it would take.”
“How are you, Mara?”
“That depends, Jake.”
“On what?”
“Where’s Edward?”
“All these years and the only thing you want to know is the location of another, more powerful and better looking man? I’m hurt.”
“You’re right, Jake. Where are my manners? How are you? And do you happen to know where your better looking half is?”
It was Jake’s turn to laugh. “I am doing rather well. Edward was sent to deliver some messages to the Arum Court.” He paused. “Come to think of it, I would have thought he would be back by now. Did you ask for him when you called?”
“Yes.”
Jake’s voice took on a far more serious tone. “Wait. You actually called for Edward? What happened? You never call for Edward.”
“Sometimes I do.”
“No. You never call for Edward. Not once in six hundred years. You ask about Edward, but you never actually speak to Edward. What the hell is going on?”
Mara paused before answering, “Just a bad dream.”
“A dream?”
“If you hear from him, I want you to call the Rose.”
Jake gave a slight gasp. “You are giving me a direct line to the Captain of the Black Rose? Must have been a terrible dream.”
“Let’s just say,” she replied slowly, “it was as deep as the sea.”
Chapter II
Lady Sandra walked down the long hallways of the Arum Court. The walls of the palace were generally painted in deep reds or royal blues, but as Sandra began to descend, the colors began to fade. The walls of the lower levels ran deep underground, built in large blocks of black stone and enchanted to withstand the test of time. A light chill filled the air causing Sandra to shiver in her thin blue shirt.
The man walking by her side was Regald, Captain of the Arum Court Guard who had served as her bodyguard for the past several years. He was tall with pale skin, short golden hair and green eyes. He wore a long-sleeved shirt of crimson with a small black rose upon the single pocket on the left side.
“So,” Sandra asked the Captain as they descended the darkened hallway. “Do you know why King Mathew has ordered us into these,” she searched for the word, “charming chambers today?”
Regald hesitated before answering. “No, my Lady. I am afraid I have no idea.”
She looked at him in surprise. “Does that worry you?”
Regald gave the slightest of nods. “I am not normally excluded from the King’s plans.” They were ushered through a large wooden door and into a circular room featuring large torches burning sporadically along the dark walls.
“Line the walls, please,” a younger guard called to the arriving crowd. “Please everyone, backs against the wall.” Sandra took several paces further into the musty room and stepped to her left. The wall behind her back was slightly damp, causing her to step forward to keep her blouse from touching it.
“Do you see Darek?” she asked, inquiring as to the whereabouts of her finance.
Regald glanced around the room as he moved to stand beside her. “I do not see him, my Lady.”
“Hmm. I wonder if he will be here later.”
Her gaze traveled the room. It was barren, save for a single silver table standing at its center. Thick, silver chains lay upon the top. As her gaze traveled downwards, she realized they were bolted to the floor. Sandra’s eyes shifted back to Regald’s warily. “What is this room used for?”
He looked apprehensively at the table. “Once long ago, this room was used to…” he searched for the word, “punish prisoners. But it has not been used for such in more than a century. I have no idea why the King would want us down here.”
An uneasy feeling began to settle over Sandra as she glanced through the silent faces of the small crowd. She again searched for Darek, but the Crown Prince was nowhere to be found. A soft click was heard and all eyes were drawn to the left. A tall, pale-skinned man was led into the circular room, moving forward slowly. His legs were shackled together and his arms were bound behind him in thick chains. His shirt had been removed and his hair hung loose around his shoulders in long, dark strands. As his face came into view, a light murmuring rose through the crowd and Regald whispered, “By the Gods.”
“What is it?” Sandra kept her voice quieter than the soft hum surrounding them.
The man was led toward the table by four figures covered completely in dark blue, hooded robes. When the table was reached, they guided the unresisting man to its sleek surface, expertly transferring him from his bonds and into the thick, silver chains. Once secured, his body lay taut across the table, the metal cutting into the skin of his wrists.
The guards stepped back as twelve more hooded figured entered the room, each wearing dark red robes. Their movements seemed to flow as one as they stepped forward to form a circle around the bound man. The four members in blue stepped back toward the wall. As one of them walked past Regald, he asked, “What is going on here, Kala?”
“King’s orders,” the woman replied.
“What… Do you have any idea who that man is?”
“Do not insult me, Regald. He is the Captain of the Ciar Guard.”
“Then what, in the name of all that is sacred, is he doing on that table?”
“I do not question the King’s orders, Captain. I merely carry them out.”
He looked back at the man chained to the table. “You do understand that they will come for him, don’t you?”
“I am not afraid of our sister court,” came the curt reply. “And if you interfere, you will be chained right beside him.”
“It might be worth it.”
Kala met his gaze with blazing golden eyes, then resumed walking forward, eventually stopping on the opposite side of the room.
Sandra looked closely at the Captain and could almost see the color draining from his face. “What is going on?”
Regald shook his head. “He is Edward, the Captain of the Ciar Royal Guard.”
“Then why would the King order him harmed? Will that not anger the Ciar Court? “
“Yes, it will. However, I fear that it will not be the Ciar guards who will come for that man.”
“I don’t understand. Who will come for him, if not his own guard?” Regald either did not hear, or chose not to answer as his attention was drawn back to the twelve hooded figures. Moving in unison, they had closed around the silver table into a tight circle and then as one, tossed back their hoods, revealing twelve women with matching black hair pulled back with silver bands. Their reflective, catlike eyes were a green so pale they were almost yellow with black, vertical slits where a pupil should have been. The prisoner remained silent.
Sandra watched as the women raised their arms, each revealing the black handle of the long whips that they had carried with them. Each of the whips had three leather straps attached to the main handle with a sharp, triangular piece of silver metal attached to the end of each leather strap. The jagged edges of each triangular piece would tear skin from bone when dragged across the prisoner’s vulnerable flesh.
Sandra’s gaze traveled back to Regald, who motioned for her to remain silent. She turned forward. Her eyes scanned the whispering faces of those around her, before turning back toward the circle. She caught the gaze of the man lying on the table. His eyes were jet black, the darkest she had ever seen.
The room began to spin. Sandra closed her eyes to steady her vision and found herself standing in a rose garden. Red and violet roses surrounded her, climbing the garden walls to blossom in a beautiful cluster of royal colors. The full moon was high above her, reflected in the calm waters of the poo
l before her. She wore a thin gown of royal blue. Her long black hair was curled in luxurious waves framing her face and flowing gently down her back. A gold chain with a white, rose shaped diamond nestled at the hollow of her neck, visible in her gown’s plunging neckline. A smile graced her dark red lips, highlighted by the rouge on her high cheek bones.
A man stood behind her. His white shirt was closed at the upper chest with silver buttons that blended with the moonlight. The top of the shirt should have been laced together, like something out of the Renaissance, but instead the silver strings hung loose on either side, allowing his pale throat to lay bare to the cool night air. He stepped closer to Sandra and placed his arms around her gently. Her smile widened as a mild gust of wind sent ripples through the previously still water, distorting their reflection.
The ripples slowly spread through the water. The reflection of the moon vanished and the pool changed from dark blue to black. Then she was falling, her thin frame tumbling towards the dark night water. She closed her eyes, but instead of water, she hit stone.
“Sandra?” Regald’s deep voice pulled her from the vision. “You don’t have to watch this.” But it was too late. The whips rose high in the air before crashing simultaneously onto the man tied to the table. When they pulled back, blood ran in long streaks down his skin. The prisoner remained silent, but Sandra knew that he would not remain so for long.
She searched the scattered pieces of her broken memories for anything about the man chained to the silver table, but it was to no avail. She closed her eyes again and this time, found herself lying on the stone floor. The stone was smooth beneath her fingers, but also cold. She tried to rise. Something crashed into her, knocking the wind from her lungs, keeping her pressed firmly to the floor. She lay still for several moments before again attempting to see her surroundings, this time raising only her head.
A man and women lay upon a bed near the center of the room. The woman was topless, her skin glowing in the darkness as though it was pale enough to reflect the very light. Her long black hair hung around her in large, wild curls. Her laugh was like sweet music carried upon a summer breeze; like the ringing of bells that only angels should be pure enough to hear. She tossed her curls to the side, revealing the man lying beneath her.
