Black Rose

by Bone, K. L.

  A high-pitched, feminine laugher entered the room at the sound of Edward’s gasp. Mara’s body jerked involuntarily and she pulled against the thin, silver cuffs which encircled her slender wrists, tethering her to the legs of the cold, metal chair. She thrashed her body, throwing her weight against the chains, which cut into her wrists, causing them to become slick with blood. She ignored the pain, pulling even harder, but the chains did not budge.

  The blade slid down Edward’s right side, slipping into his ribcage, drawing another hiss from his lips. “No!” Mara’s voice came out against her will. “No, no, no!” She jerked her left arm so hard that she cursed from the pain. “No!” she repeated as panic began to grip her. “Don’t please, don’t!” She again threw her body to the left, letting out a sharp cry of pain as she pulled her left arm from its socket.

  Viktor paused his ministrations and turned to stare at Mara with a sense of bewilderment. “No, no, no,” she said again, only this time her voice rose in a shrill scream as the laughter that had faded long ago danced throughout the dimly lit room. The blood that seeped from Edward’s shallow wounds began to cascade down his body, forming a pool of blood which raced across the floor as though it possessed a living, breathing purpose. It spread through the room, climbing up the walls as Mara let out an ear-shattering scream.

  “What the hell?” Viktor asked. He stepped briskly across the room towards the writhing girl. When he touched her arm, she began to shriek.

  It was Edward’s voice which cut through her panic. “Mara,” he called. “Look at me!” The vision receded slightly at the sound of his voice. “Please, Mara.”

  She forced herself to find his gaze, as she had all those years ago. She remembered his screams, kneeling in a pool of wet blood, the metallic taste…

  “Mara!” Edward called again.

  “No!” she sobbed, pleaded, begged. “No, no…please don’t, Edward! Please don’t make me. minime, precor.” Tears streamed down her face. “Please, Edward,” She again thrashed against her chains, this time letting out a sharp scream at the jarring movement of her dislocated shoulder and the chains which had begun to cut through to the tendons of her wrists. “Please, Edward; minime precor. I cannot watch her do this anymore!”

  “Her? What is going on?”

  “Don’t make me. I cannot! Edward, please no. Do not make me watch her hurt you again.” She shook her head, the blood from her vision refusing to recede from the floor surrounding her.

  “Mara…”

  “No, no, no!” Her body gave way to great, heaving sobs. Mara was unaware when Viktor unhooked Edward from his chains, nor was she aware when he raced forward, unshackling the bonds which held her prisoner. She scrambled away from him, avoiding his touch, unable to recognize that it was Edward whose hands were attempting to calm her. She tried to slide across the stone floor when he finally grabbed her, drawing her body slowly towards him.

  “Mara, it’s me,” he said to the hysterical girl in his arms. “It’s Edward. Please, Mara.” He kept his voice in as soothing a tone as possible. She struck out against him with her good arm, but he forced her closer, clutching tightly while attempting to avoid further damage to her injured shoulder. “Mara,” he said again. “Oh, my sweet Mara.” Her body was wracked by great, heaving sobs as he tightened his arms around her slender frame. “Mara, it’s me. It’s Edward. Do you hear me? I’m right here. Right here.”

  “Please,” she whispered through her tears. “Don’t let her do it. I can’t survive it. Don’t make me. Please, Edward. Don’t make me.”

  “She’s not here, Mara. Open your eyes. Please, Mara. The Queen is not here.”

  Mara clung to the sound of Edward’s voice as fiercely as his arms held her physical form. “minime, precor,” she begged through inconsolable tears. “Don’t leave me alone. I can’t…can’t.” She began to choke upon her sobs, pulling at the deepest recess of Edward’s soul. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t save you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Don’t leave me. Please don’t go.”

  “Shh.” He again tried to calm her. “I am not going anywhere, do you hear me? Not anywhere.” Edward held her as he had done the first time she had seen the Queen commit one of her more horrendous tortures. Held her as he had when she was twelve years old and he had been forced to inform her that her father had been killed; and again a year later when her mother had chosen to follow him into an immortal grave.

  “Mara.” He again spoke her name gently, conveying a mix of sorrow and love which, despite everything, had always been reserved for Mara alone. “I am here,” he assured her again and again. “My Mara, my rose…I am here.”

  Her sobs began to quiet as he held her in his arms. Her trembling lessened. He continued to soothe her. “te amo, rosa, mea rosa immortalis.” He spoke in the language of their childhood, holding her tightly in his arms. “tuta es: te tuebor, adsum, mea rosa, mea dulcis, mi amor.”

  You are safe with me. I will protect you. I am here, my rose, my sweet, my love.

  Chapter XXX

  Edward cradled Mara in the circle of his arms until long after she had spent her tears. With her head against the right side of his chest, Edward ran his hand lightly along the edge of her dark hair, listening to the steady rhythm of her breathing. She seemed almost peaceful lying against him, her soft hair flowing in layers down her back, framing her flushed cheeks. His mind trailed back to the last time she had lain in his arms, equally exhausted from the trauma she had been forced to endure at the hands of the Queen. His heart ached at the realization that she was once again being forced to endure the effects of that night long ago.

  He continued to stroke her hair as his memory traveled back even further, to the twenty-five years he had been forced away from all he knew. All those cold, winter nights where his only warmth was the memory of Mara’s arms, the fire that burned in her eyes saving him night after night, yet always fading with the first rays of the morning light. Those endless nights rose from the past, crashing against Edward in a suffocating wave. He stared down at the sleeping girl, who suddenly seemed so fragile in him arms.

  “ignosce mihi, mea rosa immortalis, mi amour,” he whispered. “Please forgive me. I am so sorry, mi amor. How I have wronged you.” He continued to lie there holding her close, a part of him wondering if he was ever again going to be able to let her go. “I am not going anywhere,” he repeated his earlier promise. “adsum, mea rosa, mi amor. I am here.”

  Edward was unsure how long he sat there holding her. Sporadically her body tensed, but each time he would wrap her more tightly in his arms, soothing her with tender tones. She had screamed as he had forced her arm back into place, and had spent several hours in and out of consciousness as it healed. She let out another soft moan. “It’s okay,” he said gently.

  “Edward,” she whispered. “Please don’t go.” If her words were actual pleas or the reminiscence of dreams, he was uncertain. When he began to hear the echo of large boots striking against the stone floor of the outer hallway, Edward attempted to move Mara to the floor, but froze when she began to stir. He paused, deciding to allow her those last few moments of rest, before their captors returned.

  To his surprise, the man who rounded the corner was not dressed in red, but instead in the dark garb of the Black Rose. Brendan walked quickly to the gate and addressed Edward. “I came down through the side passageway. Mara had it boarded up a few centuries ago, so our ‘friends’ were unaware of its existence.” He pulled the blade from his side. “I can break the lock but they might hear…” It was at that moment that the man’s gaze fell to where Mara lay in the protective circle of Edward’s arms. “What happened?”

  Edward ignored the question, instead raising his hand to Mara’s cheek, waking her as gently as possible. “Edward?”

  “My Lady, your men are here.” He proceeded to assist her into a seated position, turning her towards the man standing on the opposite side of the large cell.

  “Brendan.”

  “Yes, my
Lady,” he said and gave a slight bow. “Jonathan went to release Nolan, Regald and Garreth. They are being held together in the next hallway. Only two intruders have been seen on this level, but there are at least eight more upstairs.”

  Mara stared forward, but did not respond to the question. Instead, it was Edward who took charge. “Get us out of here,” he instructed. “We will join the others at the stairs from which you came. Then we will deal with the rest of the men.”

  He stood, pulling Mara to her feet. She stood unsteadily, her arms limp at her side as Edward guided her towards the door. As they reached the exit, Edward turned her back to face him. “Mara,” he said firmly. “We are about to go upstairs in the middle of a fight. A fight we cannot win without you.” He drew a deep breath. “I know you are tired. I know you are hurting. But right here, right now, we need you.” He stared directly into her eyes. “I need you.”

  Mara gave a slow, reluctant nod and then turned back towards the bars where Brendan stood waiting. She echoed Edward’s commands. “Get us out.”

  “Yes, Captain.” Brendan walked to the lock and withdrew a key from the pocket of his black slacks. Moments later, Brendan slid open the cell door. “Come,” he directed them. “I believe we successfully incapacitated all the men at this level, but I am not certain. We should move quickly.”

  “Lead the way,” Edward said to the Sub-Captain, who turned and walked down the left side of the dimly lit corridor. Two minutes and three turns later, they found themselves standing at the bottom of the previously hidden staircase. Waiting for them were the other members of their party; Regald, Garreth and Nolan stood beside their rescuers, Jonathan, Aiden and Brian. Mara drew a deep breath and turned to face her second in command. “I don’t suppose…”

  “Right here,” Brendan said, anticipating her request and holding out a thick silver sword which he offered to his Captain hilt-first. The familiar weight of the blade helped to steady her. Then Brendan turned and handed an additional blade to Edward. “Your personal blades are upstairs,” Brendan informed the group. “But these should suffice.”

  Edward gave a single nod as Brendan moved towards the stairs. “These will lead us into a side room,” he informed the others, “which opens through a stone door into the front entryway of the castle.” Edward nodded in acknowledgment before Brendan turned and began to ascend the long, winding staircase. Edward and Mara brought up the rear. As they reached the top, Mara began to exit the stairwell when Edward grabbed her arm. He pushed her against the side of the dark stone wall.

  “Edward?” Mara asked uncertainly.

  He took a step forward, closing the distance between them. “There is a fight outside these doors—and the men are deadly, Mara.”

  She shook her head. “Your point?”

  “Look at me.”

  “I am.”

  “Look me in the eye. Tell me you are going to make it through this fight.”

  Her violet eyes ignited. “I am the Captain of the Black Rose Guard.”

  “No,” he challenged. “This morning you were. But right here, right now, you are not.”

  “How dare you!”

  Mara,” he said, cutting through her words. “You are not the Captain of the Rose today.”

  “What the hell are you saying? I am most…”

  “You’re shaken and ignoring that could cost you your life.”

  “Why do you care?” Her anger increased with each word. “What the hell do you care? You haven’t cared in centuries!”

  Edward stood motionless as Mara met his dark eyes in challenge. She scoffed in a disgusted tone and began to push past him. She had taken little more than a step before Edward reached forward and forced her back against the wall. She parted her lips to curse him when he leaned forward and offered a deep, bruising kiss.

  By the time he pulled back, she was breathless. A mix of emotions rose through her too quickly for her to feel any of them. She then forced herself to slowly, carefully draw a deep breath before closing her eyes. Mara dug deeply to that cold, wintery wasteland she knew all too well. As the familiar ice began to wrap securely around her, she opened her eyes. “I am the Captain of the Black Rose. And every single man standing outside those doors,” she spoke the next words slowly, “is going to die.”

  Edward did not answer, but instead stepped to the left, allowing Mara to walk past him and through the door.

  They emerged into a large, well-lit room crafted from the same dark stone which formed the rest of the ancient castle. The other men were standing in the center, awaiting the arrival of their Captains. Mara’s gaze flew to where Garreth stood beside Nolan and then she addressed the younger of the two. “Are you injured?” she inquired.

  “No, my Lady,” came the reply. “None of us were harmed.”

  Mara gave a nod in their direction and then turned to address her Sub-Captain. “We do this quickly. Give me the report.”

  “Eight confirmed men on the premises. Not sure on the original intent, but for the last few hours it has seemed as though they have been awaiting instructions. And,” he drew a quick breath, “I can personally confirm that at least four of the seven—Viktor, Jayden, Fynn, and Alicia—are members of the Arum Court Guard.”

  Mara’s eyes flew to Regald. “They all are,” he confirmed. “But I swear, upon my honor as a former member of the Rose, I have no idea of either their mission or intentions.” He turned towards Brendan. “There was a young woman who arrived with us—black hair, blue eyes—do you know what they did with her?”

  “I saw her,” Aiden interjected from Regald’s left. “They put her in a car right after the fight. Is she a hostage?”

  The question brought a pause of consideration, then Regald shook his head. “That remains uncertain. However, she is the Prince’s fiancée, and therefore likely in no immediate danger. Let us deal with the men outside, and then I will fill the rest of you in on her story.”

  “All right,” Mara answered as she again surveyed the large room. “We have multiple Captains here. However, this is Black Rose territory, thus rules of combat dictate that all other courts yield the chain of command. Any objections, speak now.” She paused for several seconds, but no one chose to challenge this standard rule of battle. “Okay. I’m in charge, Brendan is second and Garreth, as a former Sub-Captain of the Rose, is third. Edward, I expect you to keep Nolan by your side during this battle.” She shifted her eyes to the younger man. “You are to stay with Edward at all times. This is not a request and if you don’t agree, then you shall not be permitted in this battle, no matter how badly your sword may be needed. Understood?”

  “Yes, my Lady.”

  “Good.” She nodded. “Last thing. These men invaded Black Rose territory. They threatened our lives and implemented dishonorable tactics in the highest degree.” She swept the room, briefly catching the gaze of each individual standing before her. “The Black Rose,” she stated, “knows no mercy in this matter—only vengeance.” As the room fell to solemn, Mara motioned towards the door.

  The door in question was large and made of thick, dark stone. There was no way to open it quietly, so instead they forced it open in one swift motion. Swords drawn, Garreth and Brendan led the way, leaving Mara a thirty second window to take in the layout of the room beyond. The majority of the invaders were gathered in a small group on the opposite side of the room at the bottom of the stairs while two more were standing closer to the doors. The startled men began to draw their blades, but unfortunately for the two standing by the door, were not fast enough. Brendan and Garreth raced forward, Brendan slipping his blade deeply into the neck of the first man, while Garreth slashed expertly through the second man’s chest. The wounds would not be fatal due to the ordinary blades being used. However, it would be more than enough to incapacitate them for the remainder of the fight.

  A quick glance showed that Brendan’s estimate had been correct; six men remained, now armed with drawn blades. Without pausing to issue either demands or threats,
Mara moved forward with the men alongside her. The invaders began to cross the room to meet them. “Viktor’s mine,” Mara informed the others as she centered herself to meet the identified man.

  There was no pause or ceremony, merely the clang of metal as six sets of silver blades collided. Mara was grateful for the two-handed grip on her blade as the cold steel clashed against Viktor’s, who easily had sixty pounds on her. She took a single step back, separating their blades. Viktor lunged forward. Mara side-stepped the attack, then swung her sword sideways, narrowly missing the line of Viktor’s back.

  Viktor turned quickly to face her, holding his blade close to his chest, awaiting Mara’s next movement. “I would advise you to lower your blade,” Mara stated. “However, I seem to remember promising to kill you, and, as you know, I have a reputation for never breaking a promise.”

  “Says the woman,” Viktor retorted, “who cannot stomach even the merest sight of blood. All those tough words, yet a few shallow nicks with the blade are enough to send you screaming. I wonder if these men would still follow you if they knew the truth?”

  Mara stared at him, the protective armor she had fought so hard to keep in place beginning to vanish. Jarred by his words, Mara was unprepared when he again lurched forward, guiding his blade into a downward stroke towards her lower stomach. She jerked back, turned left, but not quickly enough to avoid sustaining a cut on her left arm. She let out a slight hiss and took several steps back, but Viktor pursued, pressing his momentary advantage.

  Brought back to the fight by the sting of her arm, Mara parried Viktor’s next downward stroke. She then stepped back and drew a deep breath, refocusing her full attention on the man standing in front of her. She again raised her blade, swinging it towards Viktor’s left. The swords slammed against each other and Mara used the momentum to spin her body in the opposite direction. She aimed high as Viktor rushed to stop her, then switched the blade to a downward angle at the last moment.