Black Rose (20 page)

“ignosce
mihi, mea rosa immortalis, mi amour,” he whispered. “Please forgive me. I am so
sorry, mi amor. How I have wronged you.” He continued to lie there holding her
close, a part of him wondering if he was ever again going to be able to let her
go. “I am not going anywhere,” he repeated his earlier promise. “adsum, mea
rosa, mi amor. I am here.”

Edward
was unsure how long he sat there holding her. Sporadically her body tensed, but
each time he would wrap her more tightly in his arms, soothing her with tender
tones. She had screamed as he had forced her arm back into place, and had spent
several hours in and out of consciousness as it healed. She let out another
soft moan. “It’s okay,” he said gently.

“Edward,”
she whispered. “Please don’t go.” If her words were actual pleas or the
reminiscence of dreams, he was uncertain. When he began to hear the echo of
large boots striking against the stone floor of the outer hallway, Edward
attempted to move Mara to the floor, but froze when she began to stir. He
paused, deciding to allow her those last few moments of rest, before their
captors returned.

To
his surprise, the man who rounded the corner was not dressed in red, but
instead in the dark garb of the Black Rose. Brendan walked quickly to the gate
and addressed Edward. “I came down through the side passageway. Mara had it
boarded up a few centuries ago, so our ‘friends’ were unaware of its
existence.” He pulled the blade from his side. “I can break the lock but they
might hear…” It was at that moment that the man’s gaze fell to where Mara lay
in the protective circle of Edward’s arms. “What happened?”

Edward
ignored the question, instead raising his hand to Mara’s cheek, waking her as
gently as possible. “Edward?”

“My
Lady, your men are here.” He proceeded to assist her into a seated position,
turning her towards the man standing on the opposite side of the large
cell. 

“Brendan.”

“Yes,
my Lady,” he said and gave a slight bow. “Jonathan went to release Nolan,
Regald and Garreth. They are being held together in the next hallway. Only two
intruders have been seen on this level, but there are at least eight more
upstairs.”

Mara
stared forward, but did not respond to the question. Instead, it was Edward who
took charge. “Get us out of here,” he instructed. “We will join the others at
the stairs from which you came. Then we will deal with the rest of the men.”

He
stood, pulling Mara to her feet. She stood unsteadily, her arms limp at her
side as Edward guided her towards the door. As they reached the exit, Edward
turned her back to face him. “Mara,” he said firmly. “We are about to go
upstairs in the middle of a fight. A fight we cannot win without you.” He drew
a deep breath. “I know you are tired. I know you are hurting.  But right
here, right now, we need you.” He stared directly into her eyes. “I need you.”

Mara
gave a slow, reluctant nod and then turned back towards the bars where Brendan
stood waiting. She echoed Edward’s commands. “Get us out.”

“Yes,
Captain.” Brendan walked to the lock and withdrew a key from the pocket of his
black slacks. Moments later, Brendan slid open the cell door. “Come,” he
directed them. “I believe we successfully incapacitated all the men at this
level, but I am not certain. We should move quickly.”

“Lead
the way,” Edward said to the Sub-Captain, who turned and walked down the left
side of the dimly lit corridor. Two minutes and three turns later, they found
themselves standing at the bottom of the previously hidden staircase. Waiting
for them were the other members of their party; Regald, Garreth and Nolan stood
beside their rescuers, Jonathan, Aiden and Brian. Mara drew a deep breath and
turned to face her second in command. “I don’t suppose…”

“Right
here,” Brendan said, anticipating her request and holding out a thick silver
sword which he offered to his Captain hilt-first. The familiar weight of the
blade helped to steady her. Then Brendan turned and handed an additional blade
to Edward. “Your personal blades are upstairs,” Brendan informed the group.
“But these should suffice.”

Edward
gave a single nod as Brendan moved towards the stairs. “These will lead us into
a side room,” he informed the others, “which opens through a stone door into
the front entryway of the castle.” Edward nodded in acknowledgment before
Brendan turned and began to ascend the long, winding staircase. Edward and Mara
brought up the rear. As they reached the top, Mara began to exit the stairwell
when Edward grabbed her arm. He pushed her against the side of the dark stone
wall.

“Edward?”
Mara asked uncertainly.

He
took a step forward, closing the distance between them. “There is a fight
outside these doors—and the men are deadly, Mara.”

She
shook her head. “Your point?”

“Look
at me.”

“I
am.”

“Look
me in the eye. Tell me you are going to make it through this fight.”

Her
violet eyes ignited. “I am the Captain of the Black Rose Guard.”

“No,”
he challenged. “This morning you were. But right here, right now, you are not.”

“How
dare you!”

Mara,”
he said, cutting through her words. “You are not the Captain of the Rose
today.”

“What
the hell are you saying? I am most…”

“You’re
shaken and ignoring that could cost you your life.”

“Why
do you care?” Her anger increased with each word. “What the hell do you
care?  You haven’t cared in centuries!” 

Edward
stood motionless as Mara met his dark eyes in challenge. She scoffed in a
disgusted tone and began to push past him. She had taken little more than a
step before Edward reached forward and forced her back against the wall. She
parted her lips to curse him when he leaned forward and offered a deep,
bruising kiss. 

By
the time he pulled back, she was breathless. A mix of emotions rose through her
too quickly for her to feel any of them. She then forced herself to slowly,
carefully draw a deep breath before closing her eyes. Mara dug deeply to that
cold, wintery wasteland she knew all too well. As the familiar ice began to
wrap securely around her, she opened her eyes. “I am the Captain of the Black
Rose. And every single man standing outside those doors,” she spoke the next
words slowly, “is going to die.”

Edward
did not answer, but instead stepped to the left, allowing Mara to walk past him
and through the door.

They
emerged into a large, well-lit room crafted from the same dark stone which
formed the rest of the ancient castle. The other men were standing in the
center, awaiting the arrival of their Captains. Mara’s gaze flew to where
Garreth stood beside Nolan and then she addressed the younger of the two. “Are
you injured?” she inquired.

“No,
my Lady,” came the reply. “None of us were harmed.”

Mara
gave a nod in their direction and then turned to address her Sub-Captain. “We
do this quickly. Give me the report.”

“Eight
confirmed men on the premises. Not sure on the original intent, but for the
last few hours it has seemed as though they have been awaiting instructions.
And,” he drew a quick breath, “I can personally confirm that at least four of
the seven—Viktor, Jayden, Fynn, and Alicia—are members of the Arum Court
Guard.”

Mara’s
eyes flew to Regald. “They all are,” he confirmed. “But I swear, upon my honor
as a former member of the Rose, I have no idea of either their mission or
intentions.” He turned towards Brendan. “There was a young woman who arrived
with us—black hair, blue eyes—do you know what they did with her?”

“I
saw her,” Aiden interjected from Regald’s left. “They put her in a car right
after the fight. Is she a hostage?”

The
question brought a pause of consideration, then Regald shook his head. “That
remains uncertain. However, she is the Prince’s fiancée, and therefore likely
in no immediate danger. Let us deal with the men outside, and then I will fill
the rest of you in on her story.”

“All
right,” Mara answered as she again surveyed the large room. “We have multiple
Captains here. However, this is Black Rose territory, thus rules of combat
dictate that all other courts yield the chain of command. Any objections, speak
now.” She paused for several seconds, but no one chose to challenge this
standard rule of battle. “Okay. I’m in charge, Brendan is second and Garreth,
as a former Sub-Captain of the Rose, is third. Edward, I expect you to keep
Nolan by your side during this battle.” She shifted her eyes to the younger
man. “You are to stay with Edward at all times. This is not a request and if
you don’t agree, then you shall not be permitted in this battle, no matter how
badly your sword may be needed. Understood?”

“Yes,
my Lady.”

“Good.”
She nodded. “Last thing. These men invaded Black Rose territory. They
threatened our lives and implemented dishonorable tactics in the highest
degree.” She swept the room, briefly catching the gaze of each individual
standing before her. “The Black Rose,” she stated, “knows no mercy in this
matter—only vengeance.” As the room fell to solemn, Mara motioned towards the
door.

The
door in question was large and made of thick, dark stone. There was no way to
open it quietly, so instead they forced it open in one swift motion. Swords
drawn, Garreth and Brendan led the way, leaving Mara a thirty second window to
take in the layout of the room beyond. The majority of the invaders were
gathered in a small group on the opposite side of the room at the bottom of the
stairs while two more were standing closer to the doors. The startled men began
to draw their blades, but unfortunately for the two standing by the door, were
not fast enough. Brendan and Garreth raced forward, Brendan slipping his blade
deeply into the neck of the first man, while Garreth slashed expertly through
the second man’s chest. The wounds would not be fatal due to the ordinary
blades being used. However, it would be more than enough to incapacitate them
for the remainder of the fight.

A
quick glance showed that Brendan’s estimate had been correct; six men remained,
now armed with drawn blades. Without pausing to issue either demands or
threats, Mara moved forward with the men alongside her. The invaders began to
cross the room to meet them. “Viktor’s mine,” Mara informed the others as she
centered herself to meet the identified man.

There
was no pause or ceremony, merely the clang of metal as six sets of silver
blades collided. Mara was grateful for the two-handed grip on her blade as the
cold steel clashed against Viktor’s, who easily had sixty pounds on her. She
took a single step back, separating their blades. Viktor lunged forward. Mara
side-stepped the attack, then swung her sword sideways, narrowly missing the
line of Viktor’s back.

Viktor
turned quickly to face her, holding his blade close to his chest, awaiting
Mara’s next movement. “I would advise you to lower your blade,” Mara stated.
“However, I seem to remember promising to kill you, and, as you know, I have a
reputation for never breaking a promise.”

“Says
the woman,” Viktor retorted, “who cannot stomach even the merest sight of
blood. All those tough words, yet a few shallow nicks with the blade are enough
to send you screaming. I wonder if these men would still follow you if they
knew the truth?”

Mara
stared at him, the protective armor she had fought so hard to keep in place
beginning to vanish. Jarred by his words, Mara was unprepared when he again
lurched forward, guiding his blade into a downward stroke towards her lower
stomach. She jerked back, turned left, but not quickly enough to avoid
sustaining a cut on her left arm. She let out a slight hiss and took several
steps back, but Viktor pursued, pressing his momentary advantage.

Brought
back to the fight by the sting of her arm, Mara parried Viktor’s next downward
stroke. She then stepped back and drew a deep breath, refocusing her full
attention on the man standing in front of her. She again raised her blade,
swinging it towards Viktor’s left. The swords slammed against each other and
Mara used the momentum to spin her body in the opposite direction. She aimed
high as Viktor rushed to stop her, then switched the blade to a downward angle
at the last moment.

The
blade sank into Viktor’s right hip.  He cried out in pain as it tore
through flesh and muscle to touch the bone. She then jerked back and aimed
towards Viktor’s left. He blocked the first stroke with some difficulty. She
struck again, pouring all of her strength into the movement. The force of the
swing knocked her opponent off-balance. A third swing and he began to fall, his
injured leg unable to support his full weight. She followed him towards the
ground with her weapon, finally able to slide the sharp edge into Viktor’s left
side.

He
howled in pain at the contact, his own sword clattering to the floor. She again
brought down her blade, this time cutting down the center of his chest, causing
blood to spray on her hands and arms. She brought the sword down one more time,
leaving him writing in pain then turned to her left to assist Aiden, who was
fighting a man she did not recognize. He was several inches taller than her,
but this mattered little to the experienced Captain. She placed herself between
Aiden and his blond-haired opponent. “Go help the others,” she instructed the
lower-ranked member of her guard.