Black Rose (18 page)

           
Edward grabbed Mara’s shaking form. “What did they give you, Mara?”

“I
don’t know,” she said through chattering teeth. She had to fight to draw breath
then managed to whisper a single word, “Cold.”

           
She drew short, quick breaths as a tightness entered her chest, accompanied by
a sharp pain in her left side which would have brought Mara to her knees had
Edward’s arms not moved securely around her. “Dammit, Mara!” Edward’s voice
sounded tight with restrained anger.

           
Mara ignored the frantic statement, concentrating too hard on breathing to
respond. Keeping his right hand on her shoulder, Edward managed to shrug out of
his long black coat and tossed it to the ground. He lowered Mara onto the
woolen fabric, following her to the stone floor. He laid her body gently upon
the cloth and pulled her head against his chest. She scrambled for his hand
which she clutched like a lifeline, digging her nails deep into his skin as
another painful spasm tore through her left side.

           
Her vision went from blurred to unrecognizable as she clung to Edward, fighting
to breathe. “Hold on,” Edward said, but his voice seemed distant, filtered.
Then the world began to fade.

Nolan
sat in the corner of his cell with his face buried into the palm of his hands.
“What have I done?

           
“You can’t blame yourself,” Garreth said from beside him.

           
“But it was my fault. If I hadn’t been there, then she never would have…”

           
“Mara knew what she was doing when she dropped her blade.”

           
“But she wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t…”

           
“Nolan,” Garreth interrupted. “That decision was made by the Captains. Let the
consequences lie with them.” Garreth gently touched the younger man’s arm,
slowly coaxing him to reluctantly lower his hands.

           
“They are hurting her because of me. She’s a hero…my hero. It’s my fault they
are doing this to her. I am not worthy of such sacrifice.”

           
“I’ll say again, Nolan. Mara knew what she was doing when she dropped that
blade.” He paused before adding, “If it helps, she didn’t do it for you
anyway.”

           
“For Edward?” Garreth’s lack of response was answer enough. “I understand they
have this love story. But I don’t understand what happened. Why did Edward stay
when Mara left? Why have I never even heard of them being in the same room
before, let alone in love? I saw the look on Edward’s face when she showed up
to save him from the Arum dungeons. He looked shocked, like she was a ghost.”

           
Garreth glanced around, but the guards stood on the far side of the room which
would make their conversations difficult to overhear. “Mara had not seen Edward
in half a millennium.”

           
“But why? I mean, all you have to do is look at them.” His gaze trailed to the
cell across the room. Mara lay unconscious in Edward’s arms. “How could they
stand it?”

           
Garreth sighed. “How far have you gotten in the book I gave you?”

           
Nolan thought for several moments and then said, “She was invading the court.
She had gathered the royal family into the parlor.”

           
“Yes,” Garreth replied. “I remember.”

           
The room had been vast. A large fire burned along the back wall with a series
of blue velvet chairs standing before it. Numerous members of the guard lined
the wall awaiting orders of their Captains who had entered the room moments
before. The highest ranking members of the Guard—Brendan, Regald, Mathew,
Phillip, and Mara—were in matching black cloaks with the silver mark of the
rose etched into the dark material. On the opposite side of the room stood the
royals of the Muir Court.

           
King Dacian was a tall, handsome man. He was broad across the shoulders with
deeply tanned skin from his many days along the beaches that lined his kingdom
by the sea. Sophia, his golden-haired Queen of over a thousand years, stood to
his left. Draped only in a thin gown of white silk, the Queen stood closest to
the fire. The family had been held in this room for several hours while the
Rose, along with the army of the Ciar Court, had secured the ground, killing
all in their path. Now, only the royal family remained of one court that had
been so powerful only hours before.

           
Mara stood in silence, watching the gathered group for what seemed a long time
before she drew a deep breath and began to cross to the opposite side of the
large, circular room. She paused a few paces from them, Phillip and Mathew
flanking her on either side.

           
“At last,” it was the King who spoke, “someone in charge. Princess Mara, what
is the meaning of this?”

           
Mara ignored the question, her eyes focused upon the tall man standing to the
King’s right. “Would you like to tell him, Prince Nicholi, or should I?”

           
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” the Prince lied.

           
Her eyes narrowed. “Then you are even more of a coward then I originally envisioned. 
Or is it that your Father is already aware of your crimes?”

           
The King’s voice cut through Mara’s words. “Where is Queen Clarissa? I demand
to see her.”

           
“You will not be making any demands today, your Majesty.” She turned her violet
eyes upon his blue ones, laced with white like waves foaming in the sea, before
turning back to the Prince. “I ask again, would you like to tell your father
why we are here?”

           
“Because you’re insane,” came his response.

           
She ignored the statement, allowing more silence to slide between them before
she took a step back to stand alongside Phillip and Mathew. “Fine, I will tell
him.” She placed her hand upon the hilt of the blade sheathed at her side.
“Prince Nicholi of the Muir Court, I charge you with the murder of Princess
Liza Sethian of the Ciar Court. In the name of the ancient Order of the Black
Rose and the Captain of her memorial Guard, I have come to see her avenged.”
She drew a deep breath. “Confess your sins, your Highness, and this shall all
be over quickly. Lie and you shall face the wrath of my entire guard.”

           
He stared at her, surprise showing through his features. It was again the King
who spoke. “How dare you make such an accusation! I demand to see your Queen!”

“With
all due respect,” Phillip said from beside Mara, “the Captain of the Rose
outranks the Queen in this matter, as well you know, your Majesty.”

           
Mara never removed her eyes from Nicholi’s. “Do you confess to the murder of
our Princess?”

           
“I’ll say again, Mara. You are insane.”

           
Mara watched him for several moments, then she stepped to her right and grabbed
the arm of the King’s middle daughter, Princess Cordelia. She was tall and
slender with long hair that was so blonde it was almost white. Mara dragged her
several feet across the room while several members of the Rose stepped forward
with blades drawn to stand between the royals and their Captain. Mara then
turned the girl roughly to face her brother, forcing Cordelia’s back against
her chest. Mara reached her hand forward and grabbed the Princess by the back
of her neck, directing her line of sight to Nicholi’s. “Confess your sins,
Nicholi. Confess to the murder of our Princess.”

           
“Let her go,” the Prince replied. “She has nothing to do with this.”

           
“Then tell me the truth. Tell me how you killed her.” Mara’s voice held a calm
that was far more dangerous than her anger. “Why did you kill our Princess?”

           
“I did not.”

           
Mara stared across the room directly into the eyes of the Crown Prince as she
raised her silver blade and slit his sister’s throat, covering her hand in a
gush of warm, wet blood. The King raced forward, only to be met by Phillip who
plunged his own silver blade deep into the King’s chest. It ripped through skin
and muscle, separating bones to pierce the King’s lungs. Then Phillip stepped
back, jerking his deadly blade from the King’s chest as he fell to the floor,
unable to breathe. The entire room stood frozen for a moment before the Queen
let out a scream, scrambling to the side of her fallen husband.

           
The Prince took a step forward, rage burning through his deep blue eyes. Mathew
and Regald moved forward as one, grabbing the Prince by both arms, forcing him
to his knees. They held him there, forcing his arms behind his back, putting
their full strength into the movements. His sisters began to sob from several
paces behind them, but they dared not move for fear of the seasoned warriors
surrounding them. The Prince lowered his head as far towards the ground as he
could with the hold on his arms, anguish showing plainly upon his features.
“They are Arius blades, Prince Nicholi; killer of the immortals. There is no
coming back from their strokes.”  Mara drew a slow breath. “Now tell me,
your Highness. Do you confess to the murder of Princess Liza Sethian of the
Ciar Court?”

           
Nicholi jerked his head from the ground in his kneeling position. “If you are
going to kill me, then do it.”

           
She moved left and grabbed the youngest of his sisters. At only a hundred years
old, Princess Yara had hair more golden than either of her two sisters. She
forced Yara across the room as more men stepped forward, placing themselves
between where the Prince knelt and where Mara now stood. Mara turned the
youngest of the Muir Court Princesses in front of her, holding her in a similar
fashion as to how she had held Cordelia, placing the Princess’ back against her
chest. Mara then aligned her silver blade with the Princess’ throat and stared
coldly at Nicholi.

           
“Tell me how you killed Princess Liza!”

           
“I did not kill her!” Nicholi stated. “My sisters have nothing to do with this.
They are innocent, for Gods’ sake! Mara, please!”

           
Yara died with a single stoke of the blade.

           
Nicholi attempted to rise from the ground, fighting the two men who held him,
but it was no use as Mathew and Regald held him tightly, eventually forcing his
torso to the ground so he went from a kneeling position to lying flat on the
ground. The Prince made a sound that was neither sob nor scream but something
in between, full of anguish at watching his family die. “Your brother is next,”
she stated. “Confess and I will put you in his place.

           
“Damn you!” Nicholi shouted. “Curse you! By the Gods of old I curse you, Mara
Sethian. You killed them! Innocent girls!”

           
“Then may the Gods curse us both,” she replied. “As it is no more than you once
did to our Princess. The girl, the child, whose body you sliced into bloody
strips until we could barely even recognize her. You sister did not suffer half
of what my Princess endured as she fought to draw her last breath.” Her eyes
fell upon the remaining siblings, a younger brother and his eldest sister, both
golden haired. “Is that what I should do? Shall I slice through their pale,
flawless skin? Slip my blade into the sockets of their sea-blue eyes? Shall I
tear their bodies until not even you can recognize their remains? Is that what
I must do, before you will confess?”

           
“No, please.” Nicholi’s voice was frantic, fearful and left no doubt that he
believed that Mara would carry out her threat.

           
Mara bent down to her knees in front of the Prince who was still being held in
his helpless position. “Confess,” she demanded. “Confess.”

           
The Prince drew a ragged breath and finally said, “Okay. I killed her! I killed
Princess Liza.”

           
Mara drew a deep breath, a relief pouring through her from a tension she had
not known had existed. Her voice came out enraged and unsteady, her calmness of
moments ago vanishing in a single word: “Why?”

           
“Because I had come to make her my bride only to find that she had been
sleeping with the Captain of your Guard. Tainted, spoiled, ruined! So I cut
her, one piece at a time. Oh how she cried out as we cut into her skin. She
called for you, did you know that, Mara? She called your name as we stabbed our
blades through her chest and cut her chest into long, bloody ribbons.” Mara
felt her hand tightening on the blade against her will. “Two Princesses ruined
by the same man. Tell me, Mara, did you stand guard while he fucked her?”

           
Mara’s blade came down with the full weight of her strength behind the
movement. The blade sank through his neck, severing his spinal cord, leaving
his neck attached to his body by only a few strands of skin. Blood spurted,
splashing over the two men who held the Prince, causing them to jerk backward
in surprise. Mara again brought down the blade, the two remaining siblings
standing in shocked silence. Mara brought the blade down again, splashing more
blood upon her dark cloak. A third time and Nicholi’s head was completely
removed from his body. A fourth, fifth, sixth…Mara lost count, bringing her
sword down in a rage which knew no end.