Black Rose

by Bone, K. L.

  She turned to face him. “Don’t ask questions.” She kept her voice as firm as she could manage. “Just…try to get her out of there, Garreth. He would want us to get her out of there.” She gave a hard swallow. “Go, I will be right beside you.”

  Chapter XXXVIII

  “Have you ever seen one of those diagrams of muscles? The kind that are put up in the walls of a biology class, where all the skin has been stripped away, revealing nothing but pink, veiny muscle beneath?” Nolan gave a small nod. “It was nothing like that.”

  “Edward’s chest was a raw mess. The sheets were saturated in his blood, which had begun to run from the bed and formed a dark pool across the floor. Thin strips of skin laid on either side of his body.” Garreth took an involuntary step forward and had to resist the urge to speak the Captain’s name. Instead, he turned his gaze back to his sister, who stared at Edward with a slack expression.

  Garreth took several steps closer to the table, stopping just shy of the slowly widening pool of blood. The Queen glanced up from her victim to turn those dark eyes upon him. “My Queen.” Garreth attempted to keep his voice steady as he dropped to one knee. “Your point has been made.” He drew a deep breath, then regretted it as the smell of blood assaulted him. “Please, my Queen.”

  “They must understand.” The Queen’s angelic voice slithered across the room.

  “They do,” Garreth replied. “Your punishment has been inflicted. The lesson has been learned.” He had to resist the urge to turn his gaze from the bed. “Please, my Queen…let me take my sister from this room. Please, your Highness. Let me take her.”

  The Queen eyed him as though considering his words, then began to shake her head. “They must be punished.”

  “They have been.” Mara’s voice joined Garreth’s pleas. “But if you feel further discipline is needed, then allow me to take your daughter’s place.” Mara moved several paces forward and dropped to a knee before her sovereign. “I am her Captain; it is right that I be punished in her stead.”

  “Are you stating, Captain Mara, that you encouraged my daughter to be with this man?”

  “No, my Queen.”

  “No.” She spoke the word as a hiss, drawing out the syllables into a sinister sound. “You loved him yourself, after all.”

  Mara fought not to falter at the Queen’s dark tone. “Please, your Majesty. Let your daughter go.”

  It surprised everyone, even Garreth, when the Queen nodded her consent. “Take her.”

  Garreth began to rise at the Queen’s words, when his eyes caught those of his Captain’s. He froze mid-motion, captured by the horror of what was taking place. He stood there for several heartbeats.

  Edward stared across at Garreth and then, very slowly, raised his uninjured right hand. His fingers shook as he extended them in a single, wave-like motion. His lips parted, but he uttered no words. Edward again made the slight motion, and Garreth turned back to where Liza lay on the stone floor.

  The guard released his hold upon Liza, who continued to stare blankly in Edward’s direction. Garreth knelt down beside her before placing his hand gently on her shoulder. She flinched at his touch and a soft whimper escaped her lips. “Liza,” her brother spoke as softly as he could, though his voice carried in the silent room. His sister gave no response. Garreth drew a deep breath and gathered the young woman into his arms.

  He stepped forward slowly with the room in silence. He was almost to the door before Liza suddenly gave a shrill scream. It startled Garreth, who had to struggle not to drop her from his arms. She began to fight him, seemingly oblivious to the fact that it was her brother’s arms in which she was being held. Garreth found himself turning to his left as he fought to control her writhing body. He caught sight of Edward’s blood-soaked form and again asked the silent question. Edward waved him away. Garreth tightened his grip on Liza, restraining her as best as he could. The black doors opened before him and he forced the broken girl from the room.

  As the black doors closed, Liza began to cry great, heaving sobs, shattering pieces of Garreth’s heart with every sound.

  Chapter XXXIX

  When the sound of Liza’s cries faded from the room, the Queen turned her eyes back to where Mara still knelt upon the stone floor. “I do not require your punishment, Princess Mara.” The Queen addressed her by her seldom used title. “Only your eyes.”

  Mara’s heart began to pound in her chest with a deafening ferocity. “My…my eyes?” she asked, unable to mask the fear in her voice. The Queen raised the blade she was still clutching in her hand, and turned it sideways. It was drenched in blood.

  “Come here,” the Queen commanded. Mara stood on trembling legs and stepped slowly across the stone floor. The smell of blood grew worse with every step, assaulting her senses as she approached the side of the bed. The left side of Edward’s chest was completely missing its skin. The bones of his ribcage lay partially visible in sawed, jagged pieces. Blood had saturated the bed and was now spilling down the side of its stone base. Mara froze a single step outside the pool of blood which surrounded the bed.

  “Kneel, niece. Let me see those pretty, pretty eyes.” Mara began to lower herself towards the ground when the Queen, clad only in the blood of the man lying beneath her, said, “I cannot see your eyes from there.”

  Mara straightened and eyed the bed as her heart continued to pound. The Queen noted the hesitation. “If you like, I can have Liza brought back and she can—”

  “No!” Mara said quickly, stepping forward into the pool of blood. When she reached the edge of the bed she forced herself to kneel, Edward’s blood soaking into the dark fabric she wore to wet the skin beneath with a surprisingly cool touch. She lowered her eyes towards the floor when the Queen moved a finger to her chin, raising her gaze. “Such pretty eyes,” the Queen said as she ran a finger along Mara’s high cheekbones, smearing her face with Edward’s blood. “A hint of silver—so rare among the courts. They were my mother’s eyes. Did you know that?”

  Mara attempted to answer but was unable to find her voice. The Queen continued to run her hands over Mara’s face, tracing a finger along her lips and slowly down her throat. “My mother was a harsh woman, Mara. You were fortunate to never have known her.” A slight tremor ran through Mara’s body as the Queen stared down at her. “No,” she said. “My mother was not a nice woman at all.”

  Her blood-soaked hands moved back to Mara’s cheek and pulled lightly on her bottom lip. Her lips parted as the Queen whispered, “Taste him.” She slid a finger over the edge of Mara’s lip before slipping deeper, smearing Edward’s blood across her white teeth and along the tip of her tongue before slowly withdrawing her finger.

  As the blood mixed with saliva, Mara’s mouth became saturated with the metallic taste of Edward’s blood. Her stomach churned. Her gaze trailed to Edward’s against her will. “ignosce mihi,” she begged silently. “Please forgive me.”

  She swallowed, fighting the urge to vomit as the crimson liquid lined her throat. Her spine twisted in a violent shudder and a thin stream of blood seeped from the corner of her mouth.

  Edward’s head tilted and his eyes bore into hers. “I’m sorry,” he said without words. Mara clung to his gaze like a lifeline and as the moments passed, the tremors which wracked her body became less violent. The racing of her heart began to slow. “Hold on,” she prayed silently.

  Then the Queen moved her hand back to Mara’s cheek, forcing her gaze from the man she loved. “Are you ready, Mara?” The Queen raised the silver blade clutched tightly in her right hand.

  Fear became a living thing as she watched the blade begin its descent. Blood splattered her face as Edward began to scream.

  Chapter XL

  Tears streamed down Mara’s face, mixing with the blood that was beginning to cascade down her neck to soak through her shirt. Edward’s cries continued in a cycle of low moans to full-fledged screams as the Queen found new ways to twist her blade into her victim’s flesh. As more blood spla
ttered her still form, Mara’s body began to shake uncontrollably and her heart pounded so hard she thought it would burst from her chest; yet even the constant pounding was not enough to lock out the sound of Edward’s anguish.

  “Hail Eleos, Goddess of mercy,” Mara prayed silently. “Shine your light upon the heart of our Queen. Temper her rage with your gentle hand, in the name of those who strive to serve her. Hail Eleos, Goddess of mercy. Lay your hands upon the heart of our Queen. Hail Eleos. Hail Eleos.”

  The blade sliced up and down Edward’s body in a series of shallow and deep strokes, no two ever quite the same. The Queen raised the crimson blade yet again and this time, Mara could not stop herself from praying aloud. “In the name of Eleos, mercy!” Her voice increased in volume as she spoke. “Hail Eleos, Goddess of mercy. In the name of Eleos, mercy! Mercy!” The Queen paused in her tender attentions and turned her eyes slowly upon Mara. “Please, my Queen, I implore you. I beg of you…stop this! Can’t you see you’re killing him?” Desperation filtered through her voice which quickly manifested to an uncontrollable sob. “Please,” she begged, seeing the line and crossing it anyway. “Aunt Clarissa, for the love you bore my mother, your sister, I beg of you, stop this madness!”

  The Queen rose slowly to a kneeling position upon the massive bed and stared down at Mara’s shivering form, kneeling in a pool of Edward’s blood. She took the blade in her hand, and never removing her gaze from Mara’s, plunged the point of the now crimson sword into Edward’s left side. “No!” Mara’s shout eclipsed Edward’s own cry of pain. Her voice reverberated throughout the room before finally fading to a profound silence, shattered only by the shallow gasps of Edward’s attempts to draw breath. When the silence finally fell upon them, the Queen stood from the bed, Edward’s blood cascading down her body. Dressed only in blood, she walked across the room, leaving a trail of footprints behind her. Without pausing for a robe, the Queen turned towards Mara’s shaking form and said, “He’s all yours, niece,” before turning and leaving the room.

  Mara was unsure how long she remained violently shaking in the pool of blood before she finally managed to whisper. “Ph-up…Phil…”

  “Forgive me, my Lady,” said a masculine voice from behind her. “Did you say…”

  “Ph..Phi…up.” Mara forced herself to draw a deep breath and attempted to clear her throat. Unconsciously, she pressed her teeth against her bottom lip and had to fight the urge to vomit as the taste of Edward’s blood danced upon the tip of her tongue. She forced herself to swallow and again tried to speak, this time managing to gain enough control over her voice to say, “Get Philip. Run!” She did not need to speak twice, as the young guard to her left sprinted towards the door.

  Struggling to recall her training, Mara turned her eyes upon the rest of the room. “You,” she motioned to a tall, dark-haired guard whose name she could not seem to recall. “Guard the door. Let no one in except Philip. Do you hear me? No one else.”

  “Yes, Captain,” came the singular response as the man began to move towards the door.

  Mara’s eyes turned slowly back towards the broken form of the man laying upon the bed but spoke to those standing behind her. “Not a word of what you saw tonight.” She issued the warning in as strong a tone as she could muster. “If anyone so much as breaths a word of what they saw tonight, I shall personally cut out the tongue that formed them. Is that understood?”

  All three of the remaining men voiced their consent, but Mara did not acknowledge them, unable to tear her gaze from the blade protruding from Edward’s chest. His breaths came in short, wheezing gasps. She knew that the sooner the blade was removed, the sooner that he would be able to heal. She knew that she should remove the blade. Yet she remained motionless on the floor, unable to move as her pervious tremors returned to her body with a force of their own.

  “My Lady,” one of the nameless men said. “What can we do?” Mara knew she should answer, but found herself frozen; the world around her seeming unreal as she continued to tremble upon the floor. “My Lady?” The guard touched her right shoulder, causing her to jump, slipping deeper into the pool of blood.

  “Mara?” This time it was Philip’s voice. She turned towards him quickly, splashing more blood upon her already covered form. Relief filtered through her as she spun to find the tall man with sandy brown hair standing behind her. A member of the Royal Guard for more than eight hundred years, Philip had been promoted to second in command of the Queen’s Personal Guard shortly after Edward had been promoted to Captain. He stood in silence for several moments, taking in the gory scene. Then he turned his light blue eyes upon Mara’s kneeling form. “What? I…”

  Her senses swirled in momentary relief at the arrival of the far more seasoned Captain. “The blade…” She drew a short breath. “We have to take it out.”

  “Mara?” he asked, “what in the name of all the Gods…”

  “Blood,” Mara stuttered. “Too much blood.” Philip walked across the room and helped Mara unsteadily to her feet. His eyes searched her body. “It’s not mine,” she managed to answer in broken words, “not mine.”

  “Take a breath, Mara. Try to breathe.”

  She obeyed and a few breaths later, the tremors running up and down her spine began to slow enough for her to turn back towards the man lying upon the bed.

  Slowly, Mara walked towards Edward. The right side of his face and arm had been left untouched. She was relieved at this, realizing that even in her rage, the Queen had not dared to risk injuring the Captain’s dominant hand.

  One of the men Mara had threatened re-entered the room carrying several large, dark strips of cloth which he began to tear into various sizes. Mara wondered if Philip had ordered him to do so. If he had, she had completely missed the orders being given. “Thank you, Merin,” Philip said softly, confirming Mara’s thoughts.

  Edward’s glassy eyes looked into hers, his lips forming the shape of a repetitive question which his voice seemed unable to ask. “Liza is safe,” Mara answered him. “She is with Garreth.” She leaned closer, being careful not to touch his skin. “Do you hear me, Edward? Liza is safe.” A touch of relief seemed to filter through his eyes before he again gave a low moan. Mara drew a deep breath that proved only slightly steadier than the one before. “Listen, my love. You have a blade in your chest,” she said to him slowly. “We have to take it out.”

  Panic returned to his eyes. Mara bent back to a kneeling position by the side of the bed. She took his trembling right hand in her left. She then leaned partially over him, positioning her face in his direct line of vision, blocking his view of the blade as Philip moved towards his other side. “Edward,” Mara said from her awkward position, “I know you are hurting and I know you are scared.”

  “Please,” he said, his lips forming the silent, agonized plea.

  She fought against her tears. “Edward. Look at me, mi amor.” He turned his dark gaze more directly into hers. “I am so sorry. I love you, and I am so, very sorry.” She drew a deep breath. “But we have to do this. I am right here and I promise you that we will get through this. I am going to stay right here, by your side.” Edward’s hand tightened on her own. “Forgive me.”

  Without warning, Philip pulled up on the crimson blade.

  Chapter XLI

  For three days Mara stood guard before his door, her right hand clutching the hilt of her sword. She neither ate nor slept. When at last she was too tired to stand, Garreth reached for her arm. “I can’t.” She shook her head.

  “Mara,” he replied. “I will not move from this door. You have my word.” He motioned to the door. “Go see him.”

  Mara stared into Garreth’s green eyes. “After what was done to him. After what I saw…After…”

  “After what you saw,” Garreth interrupted. “He needs you more than ever.”

  “Needs me? How could…” but her words lay constricted in her throat.

  Garreth leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Be strong, my Lady. He ne
eds you to be strong.”

  Mara drew a deep breath and nodded slowly. She turned her exhausted body and entered the room over which she had spent the previous days standing guard. The Captain’s injured form lay on the large bed on the far side of the room, covered in thick wool blankets. When she reached the edge of the bed, Mara bent to one knee, fighting exhaustion to hold the expected position. She stared at the dark stone beneath her when Edward moved his hand forward, and touched the side of her face. “Captain,” she said in a hoarse whisper. “Captain, I am. I can’t…”

  “Mara,” Edward said, moving his hand to stroke her hair. “Mara, look at me.”

  A shiver ran through her body as she forced herself to raise her gaze. Words tumbled from her lips. “I’m so sorry. I…tell me what to do, Edward. I’ll do anything. I should have...”

  “Mara,” he said, drawing a shallow breath. “There was nothing you could have done. Do you hear me? Nothing.”

  She shook her head. “Tell me what to do. What can I do?”

  “Mara,” he said gently as he continued to run his fingers through her long black hair. “My brave, brave Mara. You look so tired.”

  She shook her head.

  “I need you to sleep, Mara.”

  “No. I have to stay by your side. I must guard…I must stay.”

  “Then stay, my Lady. But you must sleep.” He slid his hand to Mara’s right arm, careful to avoid her injured hand. He pulled her forward to the edge of the bed.

  “I tried to take care...I sent for Garreth. I tried to…”

  “You did everything right; everything. You got the Princess away from the Queen. You got us out of there.” He spoke more fiercely. “You saved me.”

  “I tried. I couldn’t…I…”

  “You saved me,” he said again, brushing her hair back gently before pressing his palm against her left cheek. “But you need to rest now. You are no good to anyone like this. And…I need you.”