Black Rose (17 page)

They
burst through the door, swords in hand. Outside nearly two-dozen warriors were
engaged in heated combat. The intruders wore the dark red shirts that marked
them as members of the Lorcan Court Guard. Her own men wore their signature
black, marked by the silver rose embroidered upon their shirts. She moved
immediately to the man closest to her left. She plunged the tip of her sword
between his shoulder blades before he even knew she had entered the room. He
collapsed to his knees with a shriek and she plunged her sword in a downward
stroke, inserting the sharp tip between his left shoulder and neck, spilling
his blood in a large stream as his body collided with the ground.

Without
pause, she stepped forward to engage a bronzed-skin man standing to her right.
He was several inches taller than Mara and a good fifty pounds heavier. Broad
across the shoulders, he should have been intimidating, but Mara walked towards
him at a steady pace with a blank, firm expression. Recognizing the famous
Captain, the man tightened his grip on the weapon in his hand. Mara’s sword
slashed forward and he rushed to stop her movement.

Mara
took a step back and drew a deep breath. Her opponent stepped forward, shifting
his weight to back leg before bringing his blade down upon Mara. She raised her
blade, moving both hands to the hilt and bracing her legs as his weight came
down upon her. Mara held her ground and for a moment the two stood still, their
blades crossed as they caught each other’s gaze. The man pulled back and Mara
lowered her blade, thrusting forward suddenly so that the downward stroke cut
though the dark material of her opponent’s shirt and sliced into his skin. He
jerked back with a hiss, but the cut had not been deep enough to end the
fight.  He then took up a defensive posture. Mara brought her blade to his
right side with such speed that he was barely able to stop it. The two blades
rose together, metal on metal causing a single spark to flicker between them. Mara
spun her body in a tight spiral, and this time her sword forced its way into
the layers of his left arm, causing blood to swell to the surface of his skin.

She
took advantage of this, moving her blade again to his left. This time he
blocked her movement and parried with a stroke of his own, attempting to use
his superior strength to his advantage. Mara stepped to her right. His
attempted strike struck only air, putting him momentarily off balance. It was
all Mara needed. She twirled around him, spinning her body into a full circle
as she slid behind her opponent. He attempted to twist to face her, but only
managed to make himself even more off balance. Mara moved her silver sword in a
single, fluid arc stabbing its sharp edge directly into the center of her opponent’s
back. He fell to his knees with the impact. Mara followed him, pushing the edge
of her blade into his spine.

A
glint of light in the corner of her eye caused her to pull back just in time to
avoid the slash of her next attacker, who had rushed to the defense of his
friend now lying paralyzed on the stone floor. She moved away from the blade
that raced towards her. From the corner of her eye, she caught Garreth facing
off with an intruder of his own. Mara twisted, turning her full attention to
the new attacker, a tall man with golden hair and eyes the color of speckled
gold. His blade crashed down and she fell to her knees, skidding across the
floor to avoid the blow, while sliding her blade into her would-be killer’s
leg. He cried out as the razor sharp edge bit through flesh and touched muscle
and bone. Mara continued to roll forward, moving herself several feet from him.
He collapsed under his own weight, unable to support himself on only one leg as
Mara quickly scrambled away, dragging her blade from the floor to her
side. 

Her
opponent held his sword tightly in front of him even from his awkward kneeling
position. She took a circular glance but saw no one else coming in her
immediate direction before she turned back to the injured man. “Do you really
want to fight me injured?” He looked at her for several moments, then dropped
the blade. She kicked it away from his reach. “Stay down. If you attempt to
rise, I will kill you.”

She
turned back to the frenzy around her and realized suddenly that the fighting
had stopped. Her eyes flew to Garreth, and she followed his gaze. Near the
front of the stairs stood a man Mara vaguely recognized as a noble of the Arum
Court. He had short black hair, dark brown eyes and dark, tanned skin. His
blade was silver and the sharp edge was pressed against the delicate line of
Nolan’s throat. “I’ll kill him.” 

Mara
took several steps forward, ignoring the warning, when Garreth spoke from
behind her. “Wait, Mara don’t.”

           
She paused in her movements but did not remove her eyes from the assassin
before her. “If I put down this blade, they will kill him anyway.”

           
“No,” the man replied in a tight, controlled voice. “You have my word, upon the
Gods.  Surrender and no harm will come to the boy.”

           
“Jayden.” Nolan gave a name to the man holding him hostage. “Why are you doing
this?”

           
Jayden pulled Nolan closer against him, using Nolan’s body as both hostage and
shield. “No more games.” His eyes scanned the room, but his words were meant for
Mara alone. “Drop the sword, or I kill him.”

           
Mara forced herself to draw a sharp breath. “I have never dropped my sword for
anyone, Jayden. I’m afraid, that I cannot oblige…”

           
Jayden pressed the blade more firmly against Nolan’s throat. A trickle of blood
seeped to the surface of his skin; a drop of crimson against a sea of white.

           
An icy hand seemed to clutch Mara’s heart. Instead of resisting, she closed her
eyes and welcomed it, allowing the cold to spread over her body like a
suffocating blanket. Many claimed that killing was like a fire—something
between rage and fierce passion. But for Mara, it had always been the opposite.
She closed her eyes and could almost picture herself encased in an icy
wasteland on the edge of night. It was a calm world, a place where no fire, no
passion, no emotion could hope to survive. It was here, to the place inside
that Mara had been forced to lock herself inside the night Liza had died. The
night Phillip had stepped into the sea. The night she had crossed blades with…
Here, was where Mara died and the Captain of the Black Rose was born.

           
She opened her eyes slowly, giving the full weight of her gaze to Nolan. “I’m
sorry.” Her voice was quiet, calm. “Nolan, I hereby name you to the Rose. To
die with all the expected honors accorded to one of your title and rank.” She
met Nolan’s frightened eyes, but had no comfort to offer. She began to take the
fatal step forward, when a voice rang out.

“Don’t!
Mara, don’t.” Edward’s voice poured over her like liquid fire, melting the
protective layer of ice surrounding her. She turned as though in a daze to face
the only Captain she had ever known. “Drop the blade, Mara. Please…do it for
me.”

           
Staring into Edward’s dark eyes, Mara released her grip on the silver blade. It
clattered to the stone floor. She did not speak a word when two of her yet to
be named attackers approached her. They took her arms almost gingerly, moving
them behind her back and slipping steel manacles around her slender
wrists. 

Then
another voice rose. “What are you doing, Jayden?” Regald asked from a few paces
to Edward’s right.

           
Jayden’s head snapped towards where Mara stood. “Captain Regald. Did the King
send you to make sure we did our job? You can assure him that Viktor,” he
motioned to a tall man standing beside him with dark brown hair and eyes of
liquid gold, “and I have this well under control.”

           
“What are you talking about?” Regald took several steps forward. “What the hell
are you doing here?” Jayden’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the other man. “It
is forbidden to attack the Black Rose.”

           
“I could ask you the same question.”

           
“I am escorting the future Princess to see Captain Mara, per Lady Sandra’s
request.”

           
Jayden’s eyes flew to the young woman standing between Edward and Phillip as
though he had not realized she was there, and perhaps he had not. “Lady Sandra?
What…” Jayden shook his head without removing his blade from the side of
Nolan’s neck. “I am following the orders of my King, Captain. Will you join us
or not?”

           
Regald gazed around the room until his eyes finally settled upon Mara’s still
form, the silver blade lying at her feet. “You forget, I was once a member of
the Black Rose. I will not betray its Captain.”

           
“Then you will be exiled from your Court as an oath-breaker and traitor to the
King.”

           
“The King himself once served Mara, and was allowed to the throne only with her
blessing and power. Something he seems to have forgotten long ago.” Regald met
Mara’s violet eyes. “I stand with the Captain of the Rose.”

           
“So be it.” Jayden motioned to another of the men who approached Regald, tying
his hands with a thick, coarse rope that bit into his skin as it was
tightened. 

Regald
turned back to Jayden, anger showing plainly on his face. “What about Lady
Sandra?”

Jayden
turned his gaze back to the young woman, draped in a simple gown of blue
crushed velvet. “She will be returned to the Court. The King can decide what is
to be done with her there.”

The
young girl looked at Regald with wild eyes. “Do not fear,” he assured her in
spite of the predicament in which he now found himself. “You are the fiancée of
the Crown Prince of the Arum Court. These men will not harm you.”

Fear
showed plainly on her pale features. “I will come for you, my Lady. You have my
word.”

“Silence!”
Jayden finally stated. “Take them below. Bring the girl to me.”

The
three Captains, along with other members of the Black Rose guard, were herded
to the stone steps and forced into the bowels of the castle. Though they had
not been used in centuries, the dungeons were still in good repair and would be
more than capable of preventing the escape of their former masters. Garreth was
moved into the cell first, while Edward was forced into the second. Jayden kept
his blade trained on Nolan while another member of his guard who Regald had
previously identified as Viktor grabbed Mara, jerking hard on her right arm,
turning her to stare into his golden eyes. “The Mighty Captain of the Rose,” he
taunted. “Perfectly prepared to let every single person she has ever known die.
Yet a single word from Edward and you surrender all.”

He
laughed. Mara met his gaze, silently cursing him with her cold eyes. Viktor
then reached carefully into his left pocket and withdrew a syringe filled with
a clear liquid capped by a plastic cylinder. He handed the protected needle to
Mara and pushed her into the cell where Edward already stood against the back
wall. Once inside, Mara turned to face him, apprehensively awaiting his next
demand.

           
It was Jayden who spoke. “If you want the boy to live, you will take that
needle in your hand and inject its contents directly into Edward’s bloodstream.”

           
Mara froze, her mind shifting silently through the list of liquids the syringe
might contain. There were only a limited number that could affect an immortal
and even fewer with the capacity to cause harm. Anger radiated through her
violet eyes as she stared at the man threatening Nolan’s life. “Do it, Mara.”
Jayden moved the blade lower and gave Nolan a shallow cut across his upper
chest.

           
Nolan hissed at the blade’s razor-sharp precision. Edward stepped forward, his
sleeve already rolled up around his left arm. Mara carefully removed the cap
from the needle and turned to face him.

           
“Here,” Edward offered his arm. She maneuvered towards the exposed flesh, but
when she attempted to place the needle to Edward’s arm, she froze. More names
appeared on the list of possible poisons and Mara’s hand began to tremble.
Cyanide would prevent tissues from absorbing oxygen, slowly causing
suffocation. Conium would cause paralysis, while leaving the mind fully capable
of being aware its surroundings. Belladonna could cause hallucinations, spasms
and painful convulsions which would torment its immortal victim for hours.

           
Edward reached forward and tried to close his hand upon the syringe, when Mara
suddenly jerked away from him and stepped back several paces.

           
“Mara,” Edward attempted to assure her. “It’s okay.”

           
Mara plunged the needle deep into her left arm. A stinging sensation
accompanied the motion as she forced the clear liquid through the layers of her
skin, into the veins beneath. The motion was completed before anyone could draw
the breath required to utter protest. Edward’s eyes flashed in a mixture of
anger and fear, then Mara turned and tossed the used needle back through the
iron bars of the cell to clatter to the ground at the feet of her captors.
“Self-sacrifice,” Viktor stated in a mocking tone. “As noble as they say.”

           
No sooner had his words faded then Mara’s vision began to blur. She blinked
several times, but the sensation grew worse. Cold fingers began to crawl slowly
up her back, beginning at the base of her spine climbing towards her neck. She
began to shiver, as though someone was pouring ice through her veins where warm
blood had flowed only moments before. As the chills trailed up Mara’s tall
frame, she found herself unable to suppress a gasp as the figment of cold, icy
fingers touched her suddenly constricted throat. As her shivering quickly
became visible to the naked eye, Viktor gave a cruel laugh before promptly
turning and exiting the room.