Legend of the Iron Flower Box Set (Books 1-4)

by Billy Wong

Rose felt a violent movement in her belly. "I told you I was okay, that it wasn't a big problem. Though I should get going." Throwing on her shirt, she turned.

  "Going to join me and Derrick in prettying this place up tonight? We could use your womanly touch."

  "What for? It's a research center, not a temple."

  "Derrick said nearly the same thing at first. Only he said 'whorehouse' instead of temple. Kind of would've expected your answers to be switched. But anyway, it's not because I'm suddenly all flamboyant or anything. I just want to make this place more attractive to special visitors."

  She raised an eyebrow. "Special visitors?"

  "I want us to open up branches in other nations, so that more people can benefit from the knowledge of magic. So if important guests from those nations come, I'd like for them to get a good impression, and be more open to being our hosts."

  The idea had potential, though Rose felt skeptical about being able to implement it. As far as she was concerned, they had two qualified instructors in basic magery as of now—Derrick and the relative neophyte Kenneth. Having sworn off casting spells, Finn was no longer capable, though he remained committed to advancing the center's mission. Would it really be a good idea to make the main branch a one-instructor facility again?

  "Who would run things there?"

  "We'll think about that when we get to it. For now, it's never too early to make a good impression, right?"

  Rose nodded. "Yeah, I guess... so, am I going to have to dress up now? No more old undershirts?"

  "I can't ever make you do anything, but it'd be nice."

  "Dresses and gowns are fine, and I do love some jewelry, but no high heels for sure! I hate them. They hurt my feet, and one time I got stabbed in the groin because of them! They're not my friends."

  Finn winced. "Ouch. Must've been hell to walk around after."

  "I was limping forever! Okay, I'll help you decorate. Anyway, going to go now..."

  #

  Derrick stared as Finn tried to hang the huge tail-spike that had gutted Rose above the second door a visitor would pass through just inside, having some difficulty due to its size. The bony spear was still caked with the couple's own blood and gore, and Derrick asked, "Do you really think that's in good taste?"

  Rose cringed at the sight of the thing which had almost killed both of them. "Get that thing out of here! I've got enough reminders of that fight on and in my body, I don't need to see one too."

  "It looks interesting," Finn said. "Besides, it's a symbol of our survival and victory."

  "You could at least clean it. Then it might look decent, like those axes I hung up."

  Derrick sighed. He'd hoped the big woman—being, well, a woman—would have better aesthetic sense than her husband, and he supposed she did, but not by enough. Axes? "I thought we wanted to make this place appeal to people, not scare them away."

  "Lots of taverns have weapons and trophies on the wall," Rose said.

  "But this is a center for study and research. I don't think you should be trying to show off what great warriors you are, but more how educated we are."

  "I'm not that educated. I've been a full-time warrior since I was fifteen."

  Finn added, "I never even went to school."

  Derrick thought his friends pretty smart considering their backgrounds, but still... "That doesn't matter. Let's put stuff up to make us look smart."

  "What do you suggest?"

  "Hmm, maybe tapestries, paintings, statues—things with art and history in them. And maybe some instruments of science?"

  "Axes have all those," Rose said. "This beauty has one hundred eighty notches in it, so its wielder must have known his art."

  Finn shrugged. "Until you killed him, anyway. Though that could've been me."

  Derrick frowned. "I guess some of the weapons and, uh, body parts could stay. As long as the whole place doesn't just look like a bigger version of your room..."

  "Hey, our room isn't that brutish," Rose protested. "I have all kinds of girly things in there... that people gave me..."

  "We even have a portable brewery," Finn said.

  "We do?"

  "I guess you didn't notice because we never use it, huh?" Finn shook his head. "It's more convenient just to buy drink. Shouldn't have wasted the money. Oh well."

  "You two have all kinds of exotic junk you don't use lying around, don't you?" Derrick said. "I should've known that stuff was yours, but you never touch it. So can we look for some suitable decorations in there?"

  Rose and Finn regarded one another. Stepping over things must be getting annoying for them, because they exchanged hasty nods and Finn answered, "Sure, after we check if there's anything we actually want to keep."

  Searching through the couple's room, and several other unoccupied ones filled with their spoils, Derrick found many an object of interest. Mechanical devices none of them understood were placed all around, and strange maps of unknown or forgotten origin mounted on walls. At the end of the day, Derrick couldn't help but think any visitor now would have a rather slow trip through the halls on account of examining the oddities lining their path. A job well done, but he did hope no accidents occurred as a result of the sharp blades scattered about. And, he realized blinking away a tear, he wished Julie were here to see it...

  #

  Finn had begun to hear rumors of Rose's adultery with Brandon weeks ago, but paid them little heed, knowing his love so devoted she had forgone healing her own grave wounds in her single-minded commitment to save him. Of course, suspicious people were quick to infer otherwise on the basis of the exchange of visits between Rose and Brandon, but that was all the count's fault; he'd come to Gustrone plainly intending to seduce Rose after the latter visited him merely for the sake of helping his people. The appearance of the situation was worsened by the fact other people thought Rose had been in Resnick without her husband's company, but Finn had been there with her, and he dismissed the talk of Rose's infidelity as foul slander.

  #

  In his free time, Derrick wrote many letters to foreign leaders, hoping to spark interest in the center. It would be nice to see the fruit of his dream of restoring magic to humanity spread across the world. At least, the anticipation of future good distracted his mind some from the awful past. But Julie would never share that good with him.

  Derrick was initially amused to receive a letter from Resnick, which he assumed an impossibly fast response from Count Brandon, and wondered what he thought to get out of doing business with the center. More chances to see Rose, probably. But Derrick got an unpleasant surprise upon opening it to find it had not come from Brandon, but instead carried disturbing news from the Resnick prison. The preacher-turned-monster named Paul Lep captured in the Earth Mother temple had escaped.

  He felt a bit reluctant to tell Rose and Finn and disturb the happiness they'd enjoyed since their return to Gustrone. But it would be better to warn them of the danger than to keep the secret and put everyone at greater risk. Besides, he didn't think he could deal with the monster alone. So he walked slowly to the couple's now much less cluttered room and gave the bad news.

  Neither of them looked too worried, and Finn said, "He's small change. If he dares to come here, he'll eat my mace."

  "Or my Thorn."

  Finn snorted. "You already proved enough you can handle these guys. How about letting me get one on my record?"

  Rose gave his back a loud slap, smiling. "Sure. I'll just play cheerleader."

  Derrick knew his friends were very, very strong indeed, but couldn't help but be disturbed by their apparent overconfidence. "Don't you always say you can never underestimate any foe, Rose?"

  The big woman's face sobered for a moment. "I know." Then her expression brightened again. "But that doesn't mean we have to get all worked up about it. We're just happy now. In a fight, I'd never disregard a threat, or stop giving it my all until it's well and dead. Finn, promise you'll take this Paul seriously, all right? Those monsters do have danger
ous claws. We'll be okay, Derrick. They are scary, but not that tough."

  Derrick had been terrified at the sight of Paul, but also filled with hate as it reminded him so much of the creature that caused his love's death. "I just hate those things. Who knows, maybe I'll kill this one."

  "That'd be good," Finn mused. "It might help you a lot. I guess I'll give you the chance, if I can."

  "Thanks." He knew it didn't make much sense, but thought killing a creature that looked like Graham might help alleviate the pain which still lingered, heightened somewhat from seeing Rose and Finn so happy. That was sickeningly selfish of him, but though he felt ashamed he couldn't help it. "So what do you think he'll do?"

  "Whatever his master tells him, whoever that is. But considering what they've done up to now, we should be on high alert around here. I hope he just comes in through the front door looking for a fight. That'd settle things nice and quick."

  "That won't happen," Derrick said glumly.

  Rose put her hand on his shoulder and smiled. "Maybe not, but we'll get him. I won't let him hurt you."

  Remembering something, he smiled back at his mighty friend. "I know. What you should really be worried about is that he'll pick the very worst time to show up!"

  "When would that be?"

  Before Derrick could answer, Finn did. "Our anniversary!"

  With tears in her eyes, Rose started to laugh. "Oh Finn," she sniffed, "I didn't even remember myself, and both of you guys did?!" She had, of course, taken more damage to her brain than them. "I can't believe it... has it really been two years?"

  "We got married in the spring before you gave birth, so yeah, we're almost there. So what do you want your party to be like?"

  She seemed too excited to think much about it, and simply answered, "Happy."

  "That's a given. What else?"

  "Peaceful. Quiet."

  Derrick nodded his approval. "That'd be a nice change."

  "Aw, and to think I wanted a rowdy old bash!" Finn bellowed. "I suppose I'll let you choose this year, since you got the worst of our last adventure. But next year, we're having some proper fun!" He guffawed as he wrapped his beloved in a gigantic hug.

  Rose kissed his forehead while he raised her into the air. "We'll do both, Finn. I wouldn't deny you your fun. Let's have the big party in the morning, and spend the rest of day just relaxing. What do you say?"

  "Perfect."

  Derrick watched and managed to share in some of his friends' joy, but couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen soon, and did not sleep that night.

  #

  Rose smiled, but inwardly she cringed. Finn seemed so very happy, and she should have been too, but she remembered her betrayal in Resnick and grew ever more guilty as he heaped on her gift after wonderful gift. Now he'd commissioned a famous painter to draw her and she posed with sword in hand, wearing her best confident expression while she displayed her powerful build in a flimsy gown. She thought it didn't really capture much of the person she was, but Finn insisted, lauding the attractiveness of her pose, and she just had to go along. It was pleasing to be so fawned upon, but her feeling that she did not deserve Finn's loving attention put a damper on her bliss.

  Recalling her adulterous act, she felt like a whore, and certainly not the ideal wife Finn imagined her. Her guilt was further magnified by the rumors which had grown prevalent in recent weeks, and the way Finn had ignored them due to his faith in her. She knew he deserved to know the truth, but she was too weak and scared to face his anger, and dared not do anything to risk losing him again. Besides, how could not knowing hurt him? It would only cause him terrible pain to learn, and that wouldn't be good for any of them—not him, not Rose, and certainly not Derrick, who had enough inner torment of his own. He needed to draw relief from the cheer of his friends, not ride their misery deeper into despair.

  Her thoughts drifted now to the scholar, and pity rose in her at the vision of his slumped shoulders and tightly drawn face. She had some idea of how he must feel, for she too had lost a love in the past, but remembering old grief was nothing like fresh anguish. She knew such deep pain could only fade when the person who held it was ready, but it tore her heart to watch her friend suffer, and she wished she could do something more. She spent much time making light conversation with him, trying to distract him from the awful memories, but it was of little use, and only served to bring back her own hurt as she recalled her pupil's heartwrenching death. And when that happened, it was Finn who chased her demons away with his boisterous cheer.

  Rose thought that after their long, torturous struggle to reunite, she and Finn deserved some time to enjoy contentment in one another's arms, and that was more important to her than something as abstract as "truth." She knew she had done him wrong, but it was in the past. Now that he was back, she would cherish him with all her heart and never take him for granted again, her match and her one true love.

  She knew he'd forgive her even if he did know of her betrayal, but Finn was her happiness and she couldn't bear to see him hurt again. She wanted above all to protect him, not only from physical danger, but anything else that would harm him, just like he would her. The thought lifted her heart, and the painter nodded at her improved poise as her faked confidence was replaced by a powerful pride in the love in her heart.

  Now the man who was her sunshine walked over and put his massive arm around her waist, though the painter frowned his displeasure at the delay. Sensing the change in her mood, he said happily, "I'm glad to see you finally getting into the spirit of things. I was starting to fear you were disappointed in my little present to you."

  Rose smiled, leaning her head into the chest of her treasured husband. Her shield. "No, Finn. I love all your gifts, just for being yours. No matter what they are, I feel the love behind them, and that makes them all great."

  His eyes met hers, and the concern she saw there touched her. "What's wrong, Rose? You haven't seemed quite as happy as I'd expected you to be, now that we're finally together."

  Of course she hadn't been able to hide her distress from him so easily; he knew her too well. "It's Derrick. I can't stand seeing him so unhappy all the time. I know there's only so much anyone can do, but I wish... dammit, I wish I could've saved Julie and spared him this grief!" It was true, but not quite the whole truth.

  "Like you said, there's only so much anyone can do. No one can be perfect and predict everything that'll go wrong. Besides, you learned from it. You're the best wife in the world. Who else could've saved me with her own guts hanging out of her belly, and lived to enjoy my company?"

  Rose giggled, almost convinced that she was indeed a good wife. "And you're the best husband. You did ignore your own mortal wounds just to attend to your merely injured wife."

  He raised a hand. "I didn't notice I was hurt so bad, and I really thought you were dying."

  "I'm tougher than that," she bragged with a smile.

  "Tougher than anybody, and yet tender as can be. Huggy bear!"

  "So you think our drunk party will do Derrick some good?" she asked cheerily.

  "It won't do him any harm. And maybe if he has an old-fashioned drunken breakdown, he'll be able to let out some of that pent-up grief."

  "That would be painful to watch."

  He hugged her closer. "Don't worry, I'll protect you—you delicate little thing." Rose closed her eyes, relishing the warmth that filled her heart. She felt so loved...

  They were interrupted by the painter. "Are you going to get back to posing so I can keep painting?"

  Finn seemed ready to give the man a harsh word or two, but Rose replied, "All right. Let's see how bad this comes out!" The accomplished painter's jaw dropped, and she laughed. She knew he had artistic ability, but the subject of his painting was giant, scar-covered her... "So Finn, are you going to get yourself painted after this?"

  "Maybe, but I'd rather be made into a statue. Paper can't really capture my essence anyway."

  Rose rolled her
eyes. "Essence! You mean your bulk?"

  "At least I'll have a statue before you do," he shot back.

  "I already had a statue made of me! What, you didn't know that?"

  "Well, I'll still have one in Gustrone first."

  "Do carvings count?" They continued to compare their fame, but at least Rose managed to hold her pose well enough for the painter to finish.

  #

  Derrick continued making his way nervously down the street, wary of the figure following him. He'd been out shopping for gifts when he noticed his stalker, and after hours of being tailed through the city decided the person probably meant harm. Good thing life with Rose and Finn had taught him to be wary at all times. He'd tried from the beginning to hide his awareness of the presence, and now ducked into a narrow alley to test its reaction. As he feared but expected, it quickened its pace after him. He ran. And was stopped in his tracks by some force which completely halted his forward movement. Turning around, he inadvertently coiled the webbing which had been shot onto his back around his body, leaving himself in a half cocoon facing a warped creature. Paul Lep, he figured as he felt the hatred in its huge bug eyes.

  He shook with fear and rage as he gazed upon that horrific face, a cross between a man and an insect's. It was quite different from Paul's appearance when he'd been arrested, then looking like the creature Rose fought in Basilt. Derrick wondered how he'd gotten an upgrade, if that was what this was. The creature started towards him, mouth opening and closing as to demonstrate how it'd bite off his face. His knees trembled. Forcing himself to act, he pulled the crossbow from his side with his free hand to shoot directly at the gaping mandibled maw. But Paul closed his mouth in time, and the bolt only penetrated a quarter inch into his armored lip before dropping to the ground. The monster advanced.

  Before Paul could get any closer, he began to claw at his face, then screeched while he fell to the ground convulsing in agony. The bolt that scratched him had been coated in deadly poison powerful enough to fell an elephant, taken from the Sevrian general Joghra's body after Rose killed him. Derrick started carrying the envenomed crossbow when he'd heard of Paul's escape, and now his foe lay thrashing helplessly thanks to it. He was still bound to the creature by its webbing, but nothing prevented him from closing with the stricken Paul. He drew his pick, and with a furious yell drove it through thick skull. Paul fell still and Derrick collapsed to his knees, crying for more than one reason. When he was done, he pulled out his dagger to cut away the bonds that kept him from his freedom.