The Savage Blood (Savage Series, Book 2)

by Tamara Rose Blodgett

  Bracus and Matthew looked at one another over her head, each one hating the other in their love for her.

  The princess that was now queen.

  CHAPTER 5

  Charles and Clara stood fighting...again. It mattered not that she had made every argument. He would not relent that there be even a single shred of truth in Evelyn's tale. He had publicly ridiculed her and Bracus had needed to be restrained before he tore off his foolish head. Even now, the Band watched their heated discussion from a distance, not trusting themselves not to intervene.

  “I am not wont to believe in folly, you know this. But the more I deliberate on what she has said, the more it makes a bit of sense.”

  “It makes none. You are a fool to think it does.”

  Clara had the crazy urge to slap him again, her hand itching with it. In her periphery she saw Matthew straighten and belatedly realized she must have made some movement because he was upon them quickly.

  “Do you harass your queen yet again, Charles?” Matthew asked on a hiss.

  Clara did not have time for this. They must press forward tomorrow. One more day at the spring and camping at the beautiful forested mountainside, then onward to the sea. Cape Cod in the state of Massachusetts, she thought deliberately.

  Charles swung his head to address Matthew, his words sharply balanced on his tongue and Clara said, “Do not, Charles, I beg you. Nothing good can come of this. Think on the altercation of one year past.”

  Clara and Matthew watched him remember the last time he and Matthew had come to blows. He visibly calmed himself. “I would not hurt you Clara. He behaves as if I would. After all I watched you endure at the hand of your mother and that vile prince. Never. It is beyond insulting.”

  “You would not willingly deliver harm. But that is not what I address. You anger because you cannot have her, so you use your words to whip her instead of your hands,” Matthew said with logic.

  Clara put her face in her hands.

  Charles pulled them away and she stared into his eyes. “I am trying. It is the very best I can do in the presence of the heathen.”

  Oh for the love of the Guardian!

  Matthew's hand was on Charles' lapel before Clara could move and had drug him against himself, four inches separating them. The men of the Band embraced violence so naturally, like breathing.

  Bracus rode toward them on Briar Rose, her hooves sliding as the prairie grass gave way to the moss that edged the forest floor.

  “Matthew!” Bracus commanded from his mount, travel dust embedded in the sleek muscles and crevices of the naked skin that glistened under the sun. He had obviously been about securing the safety of their camp.

  Matthew did not look away from Charles, shaking him. Charles threw his head forward and a resounding skull impact sounded in the meadow, Matthew's grip loosening. Charles curled up his fist and followed the unexpected move with a stiff jab to Matthew's jaw. This did nothing but enrage Matthew who roared and charged Charles.

  Clara was shoved out of the way as Matthew threw himself on top of Charles and meted out blows too furious to track.

  Bracus leaped off his horse, his legs completely clearing the top of Briar Rose, swinging in an arc and landing with soft assurance on the tall grass. He tore Matthew off of Charles with an effort and screamed into his face, “We are being observed. I need you to be out of your head right now!” he bellowed and Matthew stilled, the skin torn off his knuckles like paper shredded.

  Clara felt dizzy and sat down where she had been standing, the exchange resounding with an appalling familiarity.

  They were not alone, those two oblivious when the true fight was around them.

  The Royal Guard, with Joseph and Philip ran to where they were. Philip looked about him cautiously. Clara understood instantly he was ascertaining the safety of the open and where Sarah was.

  Charles got on all fours and shook his head as if ladled by cobwebs then spat blood on the grass. His murderous gaze rising to Matthew's.

  Matthew returned the stare and growled at him, “Stay where you are or I will make you meet the ground for a time.”

  “You will not!” Bracus raged. “Did you not listen? I have finished my run and have found evidence of others.”

  Matthew began to look around him, realizing in the fight with Charles, Clara had been vulnerable to what Bracus was trying to warn him of. Regret filled his expression as Clara stared at him. She understood how easy it was for one of the Band to be swept away in anger. She blamed Charles, he could not rein in his temper around her anymore. It was all for what he perceived important.

  She missed him. Badly. This new Charles was not endearing to her. He was no longer the tender friend that she had known, but a slave to his emotions.

  ****

  The women stayed in the camp with Joseph, the entire Royal Guard, which were few, while the remaining Band investigated the evidence.

  They were not long in determining who the other presence was, returning to camp looking grim.

  “Fragment,” Bracus stated emphatically.

  Matthew and Philip nodded in agreement adding, “It is not clear if it is the fragment which roams our area or...”

  “A different group,” Philip finished.

  “It matters not. They are a danger. Let us ask of ourselves, have the fragment ever proved to be anything but hostile?” Joseph asked rhetorically.

  Matthew's nostrils flared in synchronicity with his gills. “Absolutely not. They will be understood as the threat they are and we will guard with vigilance.”

  Thomas of the Royal Guard queried, “Do we stay here one fore-night more or abandon our position and press forward immediately?”

  The Band stood together, their expressions similar. There were problems with both. If they left now, with only one day and night of rest, they would carry their travel weariness with them as a crutch to be broken by the fragment, who traveled with great numbers. Yet if they stayed, the fragment may move in. It was a quandary.

  Bracus, as Captain of the Band, broke the impasse, “We will take rest. Two of the Band will have first watch, everyone will be guarded.” He shrugged as if to say there was not a better solution.

  Clara agreed. She was still tired from a weeks' straight travel without respite. Her fear of the fragment, although acute, was not sufficient for them to move onward for another week.

  She nodded and stood on feet still shaky from the interchange between Matthew and Charles. “I believe Bracus speaks true.”

  Clara heard some of the guard grumble and gave a severe look at Thomas who responded, “Let us take our leave, your highness. We await like sitting ducks before the wolves. I do not like their numbers.”

  Talking broke out and Matthew held up a hand to quiet them. “It may seem like a foolhardy maneuver, to stay in this place while they encroach.” Clara watched Thomas and the other four of the guard nod their heads to that most obvious fact. “However, gentlemen, we have been in many battles.”

  The guard remained somber and quiet. They had yet to see a battle, having lived within the womb of the sphere their entire lives.

  “If we move in weakness, with insufficient food in our bellies and time atop our pillows, you will fight your fatigue as surely as the enemy.”

  “What Matthew says is true. We stay. Only Clara could force this party froward prematurely,” Philip said, looking at her.

  Clara looked at her sullen Guard, then at the women. Finally, she gave her full attention to the Band who looked back at her steadily.

  “We stay,” she decided for the party.

  Lifting her skirts, she made her way to the camp. For better or worse, they would bathe, dine and sleep. It was the only way to be prepared for whatever they may face. A coil of unease unfurling within her even as she thought it.

  CHAPTER 6

  The dinner behind them, a solemn affair where the entire groups' heads were about where the fragment was.

  Clara was tired of the dour tone of the evening
and decided it was time for a game. “Let us play a game of hide-and-seek.”

  Matthew immediately opened his mouth to protest and she held up a finger. “You may guard the group for the first round, then another will relieve the next,” she said with utter surety. They needed this, Clara thought, the nervousness of the day riding on her like a black cloud.

  Bracus grinned. “Very un-queen-like of you Clara.”

  “Yes, very,” Sarah said, matching Bracus' smile with one of her own.

  Evelyn clapped her hands together and said, “That is why you are the best queen in Ohio!”

  Clara laughed, Evelyn was an infectious girl.

  Anna frowned then laughed. “She is the only queen.”

  The Royal Guard chuckled at her enthusiasm. Clara was overjoyed to see Evelyn's eyes shining in a face that had not smiled much this week past. They should have relieved the tension in this manner even without the threat of the fragment, Clara thought.

  “Come brother,” Philip clapped Matthew on the back, “let them partake of some fun.”

  Matthew and Charles stared at one another and Clarence spoke to break the tension, “Charles, let us have some spoil, it will be a welcome reprieve.”

  Charles sighed and Matthew's shoulders relaxed.

  Let the game begin.

  ****

  Clara and Evelyn giggled together. As they were of similar size they hid inside the length of a fallen tree, the males crashing around looking for them.

  “They sound like a herd of goats looking for a rear end to butt!” Evelyn giggled and Clara forced her face into stern lines, the darkness of their quarters relieved by the knothole which lay above them.

  “You had best not tell them that comparison!”

  “I shall! It is too precious,” she laughed as she grasped her sides, holding onto them for dear life.

  Clara could stand it no more and disintegrated into gales of laughter, the vision of the Band running about, their heads forward, butting their foes.

  Their laughter finally lessened to the occasional hiccup.

  Clara put her finger to her lips to quiet Evelyn. She was certain they would be victorious as their small size was cleverly hidden in plain sight. The Band would never suspect that the pair could maneuver into the tight quarters they found themselves in.

  “Queen Clara, I am uncomfortable here, it has been hours. Surely we have won?” she asked with typical impatience.

  “Keep still, rascal. We have been here not overlong.”

  “No, it has been at least three hours. I need to use the necessary and look,” she pointed at the filtered light that came through the hole in the log, “the light fades.”

  Clara shook her head. “No, Anna said she would give the signal when they game had ended. The men must find us. I do not care how long it takes. For one, it is quite a pleasant switch to trick them.”

  Evelyn smiled, she found it challenging to fool the Band on any level. That the two of them could hide underneath their noses was a wonderful thing indeed.

  Suddenly they heard Thomas call out, his voice panicked, “Queen Clara...Evelyn, you must come out!”

  Evelyn struggled to come into position to exit but Clara whispered, “Do not! They hope to win!”

  “Are you certain? He sounds...” she shrugged in the confined space.

  Clara nodded. “We sphere-dwellers know how to fool one another. You watch.”

  Clara smiled and Evelyn settled down to an uneasy silence.

  They waited and the light grew dim inside the log. There was a complete silence to the forest. Clara grew uneasy. Surely Anna should have given the signal for the game's termination?

  “Clara, I must go...” Evelyn began.

  “I must go myself. I hate to admit defeat but nature calls.”

  They moved backwards on their hands and knees until they had fully evacuated the log and stood.

  Good Guardian, it was nearly twilight. Her stomach growled and she realized the game they had begun at the noon hour had stretched to the evening meal.

  Something was wrong.

  The frogs did not sing.

  She and Evelyn looked at each other in unspoken consensus and did not talk out loud. They searched for some high brush that circled a lone evergreen and relieved their full bladders.

  Much better Clara thought, straightening, her spine popping in a most satisfying way.

  “That was a tight perch, Clara,” Evelyn whispered.

  “Yes it was,” Clara said, looking about her. “Let us rejoin the others.”

  They made their way to the camp and Clara turned to Evelyn. “The forest is still, I feel ill at ease.”

  “Should they not have been looking for us even now?” Evelyn asked logically.

  Definitely, Clara thought.

  They came upon the meadow that was circled by forest and were greeted by the bodies of the Royal Guard. Throats slit and entrails littered about like grotesque worms. Flies buzzed above the macabre bounty and Clara's vision became dim.

  Evelyn.

  She must think of the girl. She could not afford to be weak in this moment.

  Evelyn moved to rush forward and Clara brought her against her body, wrapping a hand over her mouth just as Evelyn was readying for a scream.

  “Do not give utterance,” Clara said in a fierce whisper. “I will release you but you must stay by my side.”

  Evelyn nodded her head and Clara removed her hand as Evelyn turned and they stared at each other.

  “The fragment have killed everyone,” she mourned softly.

  “We do not know that,” Clara said, the same sentiment whispering through her mind. But she refused to believe that all were dead.

  Matthew and Bracus, her mind raged at her. Beating at her mercilessly. The men she loved dead...or worse.

  As they stood looking at the scene Prince Frederic entered the clearing holding a struggling Charles and Clara could not help the gasp that escaped her mouth.

  Here he was in the flesh, very much alive and well.

  Clara had known he was.

  Prince Frederic did not look like a prince any longer, but a man on the edge, his hair long and unkempt, his body lean and muscled through survival. Jabez, his first guard, came behind him, his eyes missing nothing.

  Clara swallowed her fear, a thing which threatened to choke her.

  “Clara!” Prince Frederic bellowed. She jumped at his voice and Evelyn clasped her hand.

  “I have your precious Charles and he will die...I promise you.” Clara saw the steel glint at Charles' throat and her shoulders slumped. This was all her fault. She should not have insisted on the folly of the game when the brevity of the fragment was upon them.

  What had she been thinking? She had endangered her people, the guard now dead because of her frivolousness.

  “Come out, come out wherever you are. I know you are here and this one lies to protect you, still. Where he goes, you are near.” He pressed the tip of the blade into the tender hollow of Charles' neck and he struggled not to cry out and the prince laughed.

  “She will come out or you will die,” he said, his eyes searching the gloom where they hid.

  “Do not, Clara! He means to abuse you as he has the others.”

  Oh Guardian, what had he done to their people? Clara could not stand it.

  She turned to Evelyn. “You must listen. Leave this place, return from whence we came, stay tight to the forest and the waterway which flows here. Stop at the Kingdom of Pennsylvania if you see it and they will guide you from there. Stop for no one.”

  “No Clara, do not go,” a tear escaped her eye. “He will kill you. But he will do other things first.”

  Clara knew this. But in that moment she knew what it was to be royal, to be brave.

  The brave were those that ignored their fear.

  Her terror pressed inside her like a disease and she shoved it aside.

  “Promise me you will go. Do not watch, no matter what occurs, leave now. Promise me.�
� Clara's eyes bored into Evelyn's.

  She nodded her head vehemently, the tears cascading down her young face in a constant stream, mucus leaking out of her nose.

  She threw herself into Clara's arms. “I love you, Clara.”

  Clara shut her eyes fiercely. “And I, you, Dear One.”

  She released Evelyn and turned to face the meadow, her body a twisting inferno of misery and fear.

  She stepped into the open and immediately Frederic's eyes found her.

  He shoved Charles at Jabez and came at her on a run.

  CHAPTER 7

  Clara braced for the impact as she heard Charles scream, “Clara, run!” A smack resounded.

  Charles had been quieted.

  When she felt nothing she opened her eyes and Prince Frederic stood in front of her, his feverish gaze roaming her form.

  Somehow, it was worse that he did not touch her. She shuddered.

  “Happy to see me, Dearest Clara?” he asked, touching her jaw with a finger, running it down the length of her face and she recoiled. “No. We will have none of that. Your precious Band has left you to my devices and those of my new found comrades.”

  Clara looked about her and when her attention was off him but a moment, he grabbed her about the waist and she yelped. His lips against her ear. “You will have my attentions and like it.” He licked along the outer edge of her ear and she struggled against him. His arm tightened about her with bruising force and she could not move, could not breathe. She began to feel dizzy.

  “Do not struggle against me. We will be joined. I will rule your kingdom with you at my side.”

  Something had happened to the prince during his time Outside she realized.

  He was quite mad now.

  Clara stopped struggling but continued to gasp for air. He pulled her into his embrace. He smelled rank, a bath not having been part of his regime for some time. Clara could not help but think of the clean smell of Matthew and the spicy sweetness of Bracus and stifled a sob that bubbled in her throat. Her eyes found Charles' form in a heap at the feet of Jabez. He met her stare with brazen eyes.