Bound by Roses (The Bound Series Book 1) (19 page)

The second grumbled low, beady eyes shot to his comrades, “That wretched beast should have died.”

“Had he died, you would not be here,” Saledii winked. None of the Wolves spoke, “Now. Why do you relentlessly attack?”

“Relics!” The third, in his dirty blue robes barked without wasting a breath, his voice easily over powered Saledii’s.

“Beast!” The second barked, but did nothing, for to move would have been too painful. To attack would have expended too much energy that the creature did not possess.

Saledii leaned forward, “Relics?”

“Relics of a by-gone Age,” the third howled again. The putrid creature adjusted and twisted his neck, which cracked loudly.

“What do you believe we have to offer?” Saledii readjusted herself.

The red draped envoy took a limp forward, showing his limb caught between a Wolves leg and Human arm. It was short, thick patches of wiry fur missing, flesh wet and raw. “Your dying city of Zhan’ding, of the once powerful House of Red, houses that which is sought.”

“Zhan’ding holds many secrets,” Saledii pried.

“There is no more you need to know,” the one in red spoke in a huff.

Saledii stood, adjusted her sunset gold gown before the envoy, “then I shall make it easier for you, my dear friends.”

“What do you offer?”

“I shall give you access to my city, for a single night.”

The third stepped forward, “State your terms, Human.”

“You will be as covert as possible, with the smallest force you can muster. Harm Soldiers alone.”

“And the palace?” The first asked.

“You will be guaranteed access to the palace naturally.” Saledii bowed her head in compliance before sitting.

“Is that all?” The third grinned wide, his yellowed teeth glistening. Glistening strands of drool dripped from his in-turned lip.

“Once you have finished, you will leave Zhan’ding. You will inform every Clan loyal to you, and every Clan that is not, that Zhan’ding has no value and will be left alone for all time. And in turn, we you.”

The Second, draped in the vilest and stale blue, hands the most human, folded them before his stomach. The second who had not spoken much, but merely watched the events unfold spoke in a low, growly voice, “You are so willing to betray not only your city and its people. But all the realm?”

Saledii rose and laughed at the envoy. As powerful and fearful and disgusting as they were, they shrunk back in fear of her chilling laughter. A cackle that seemed to never end as it echoed, “Zhan’ding does not betray the realm! The realm betrayed Zhan’ding! Snow White and her abandonment of the House of Red, has led to this moment! If anyone has betrayed the realm it is she. And it is on her, that the blood of this city will reside! Do we have an understanding?”

All three of the envoy bowed slowly to Saledii. One by one they each responded,
yes
.

Saledii sat back down upon her throne; she readjusted her simple gown and crossed her legs before she raised three fingers into the air. Upon her middle finger, a manly bronze ring blazed in the torchlight.

“In three nights time, you will enter by a nearly invisible passage to the East,” Saledii’s finger now pointed to the direction in which she spoke, “From there you shall arrive, and from there you shall leave.”

The Wolves bowed low as they could as Saledii finished speaking.

Before they could rise, a snap of her fingers echoed in the empty silence. Ministers flooded the throne room again. Three soldiers were tasked with seeing the envoy safely out of the city.

Saledii pulled her Captain close to her once the envoy of Wolves were out of the throne room,
“those soldiers are to be silenced and prevented from saying a word to anyone. Understood?
”

With a nod and removal of his sword, the Captain signaled two of his most loyal soldiers to follow him; they too removed their swords. None of the three that exited said a word.

A Minister approached Saledii, his robes billowed around his plump frame, “This—this was most uncalled for, Lady Red.”

Minister Haan approached finger pointed sharp, “I quite agree. Your father, Lord—”

“My father is
not
in charge. My father died protecting this city. He died protecting this Realm. It then comes to me, to do what I must,” Saledii bellowed, hands gripped the arms of her chair so tight her knuckles grew pale. Nails dug into the old wooden throne. Her pumpkin eyes stared at no one, but all at the same time.

“He would have never conducted private meetings!” Minister Emmae’s high caring voice bellowed out.

“With our enemies no less,” Minister Ephice declared, arms flailed about wildly and without end.

“The Ministers are right,” Saledii’s handmaiden spoke, her head low, “we do not need to do this alone. We can—”

Saledii sent her hand flying across the cheek of her handmaiden. She left a slight imprint of her ring. The stone sliced at the girl’s face, “Know your place, Umma!”

Holding her bright red cheek, head low Umma spoke, “forgive me.”

“The House of Red has
never
asked for help! I will not be the coward to break!” Saledii rose tall. Those present cowered just as the Wolves had done at her voice, “Leave me be!”

Discussion was over from the Ministers as they fled out of the room as wild animals spooked in the wild. A few prayed, though they knew not why. Saledii sat strong upon her throne, but was ready to cry upon its arm. Umma with handprint still very visible upon her cheek remained behind after the Ministers had left.

“I do not need to be consoled at this time. I wish to be alone. Alone with my thoughts and of my actions,” Umma backed away in silent understanding at Lady Red’s demand.

Saledii was left alone with her thoughts upon the throne.

Eleven.

The images surface faded as mist does when the sun rises in the morning sky. Only the ghostly after image of Saledii sitting upon her throne remained, but even that too disappeared. The glow gone, the surface cracked. The Shattered One’s face returned.

Marguerite looked upon the Mirror. She held back tears, “That cannot be all there is to tell regarding Rose?”

“You know the rest of the story, Marguerite. She who betrayed, was herself betrayed,” the Mirror spoke openly.

“Who?” Marguerite asked.

“Why ask a question that one already knows the answer to?” The Shattered One’s childish voice returned a question.

Marguerite pounded upon the Shattered One’s surface with a single fist. It rippled and bounced. The cracks glowing brightly, sparks flew into the air, numbing Marguerite’s skin, “Then answer me. Is she truly the daughter of the Wolf Queen?”

Marguerite pounded more. “Tell me!”

Her heart beat and tears formed in her eyes. Her numbed skin faded.

“She is. And she is working tirelessly. Working to unite all the fallen Clans under a single banner once more. Working to undo all that have been done to eradicate the daemon bloodline. She is also searching,” the Shattered One commented.

“Searching? For what?” The Mirror’s words caught her attention.

“That which is hidden from my sights. Scattered, and fractured as my surface is. It calls to her. Calls one other,” the Mirror spoke.

“What of the one controlling her? With powers like the Queen?”

“Just that, one like her. Power great, but she too is shielded from me,” the Mirror tried to gaze hard into nothingness, but could not.

“Powerful indeed if she can hide herself from a Mirror’s sight,” Marguerite stepped back. A chill from the Mirror’s gaze ran through her.

“Not by her own doing, but of another. A Fairy. Their magic pulls the darkness over my eyes. If she is to be protected as such, powerful she must be, and dangerous if controlling the fledgling Wolf Queen. I am afraid that is all I can see.” The Shattered One spoke.

“I need to know who this person is,” Marguerite pleaded.

“To see past the Fairies magic, you seek out the one blessed by twelve and cursed by the thirteenth. Seek out Mora Rose,” the Shattered One said.

Marguerite moved away slowly from the Mirror disheartened, “where must I go to find her?”

“She rests in a palace far to the West. Protected by a forest of thorns,” the Mirror gazed into nothing as it spoke. She knew that look well. Specularii would give the same gaze as it too talked.

She began to leave but stopped, “What must I look for?”

“I do not know Lady White, for that is beyond mine own sight. But the Mirror, Specularii, you keep locked away with the Seven, does. For he has been there before, having spent centuries locked away in the coldest depths.”

Marguerite looked away from the broken Mirror when the Captain screamed for her, “Lady White!”

Marguerite turned back towards the Mirror, “What is happening?”

“At the moment, trouble stirs high above!” The Mirror commented as Marguerite walked away. “You must go!”

The Mirror’s face faded away. The tranquil green glow vanished. The hidden wall closed silently. Marguerite stopped short of the stairs. A presence watched her. She turned only to find Grandmother, Lady Aka sitting, rocking and knitting. The ancient woman had a glow to her.

“Tell me, Grandmother. How can I not judge Rose for having my father poisoned?” Marguerite asked.

“Love, Snow White,” Grandmother knitted away but stared deeply into Marguerite, “Love can forgive all. Love will allow you to see why she did what she did. Love will persevere over all obstacles ahead.”

Marguerite stood silent. She wanted to smile. She wanted to cry. A deep sniff held it back. Iritis called again, “Lady White!”

Marguerite did not look away Grandmother, “I am coming!”

“You must hurry,” Grandmother said.

“Where is what I intended to find?”

“Gone for sometime,” Grandmother knitted away happily as she talked to Marguerite, “Traded as was told. But enough questions about the past, my dear Snow White. The future of my city hangs upon a delicate thread. Your words may lead the people above to a course that will have ramifications they cannot even have dreamt.”

“Lady White!” Captain Iritis called a third time.

Grandmother stopped her knitting and cut a piece of yarn with her teeth. Its snap echoed louder than it should have. It spooked Marguerite. The old woman handed the silvery cord to Marguerite, “Take the string child. It will guide you, when you have lost the light.”

The string fell into Marguerite’s open palm. It was cool. It melted and wrapped around her middle finger. Pondering the old woman’s words carefully, Marguerite left her alone in the darkening room.

“My Lady!”

Marguerite rushed up and out of the fireplace, where it sealed itself instantly behind her. Breathes heavy.

“Trouble outside. In the streets,” Captain Iritis entered Saledii’s chamber. The candles flames spent.

“What kind of trouble?” Marguerite questioned.

“The citizens,” Captain Iritis stated as he and Marguerite left from Saledii’s chamber, “They are not happy.”

“Define unhappy, Captain,” Marguerite demanded.

“They are massing once more,” Iritis commented.

“I wonder if they have finished their vote?” Marguerite asked.

The two rushed past the handmaidens who ignored all to do their duty to their dead ruler. One held tight to the white linens, while the second possessed the bronze pitcher of oil. They entered, opened the drapes and began to anoint the oil along all of Saledii’s pale, green tinged skin.

Outside the palace, citizens massed. Spurred and angered on by a merchant. A merchant, mysteriously beautiful, who overheard Marguerite and her Captain speak. The citizens marched upon the palace. Many carried torches, with flames that disappeared in the daylight. Some tossed pieces of stone up and down in their hands. They entered the courtyard. They filed around the statue of Gozran. Some climbed upon it to see better. They stopped their advance when Marguerite exited through the splintered wooden doors. Ashy remains brushed to either side. The merchant stood behind the gathered crowd, arms folded, eyes gazed upon the situation. Guards from Ashok Orai moved to stand between the crowd and Marguerite.

“Look friends! Lady White has made herself at home,” the Merchant’s ethereal voice called out from behind the crowd.

“I paid my respects to Saledii, nothing more,” Marguerite began.

“It is only a matter of time before Zhan’ding does not exist and the House of Red falls!” An angry citizen threw a stone towards a soldier.

“Saledii was the last scion. The House of Red has already fallen!” Marguerite yelled, trying to calm their voices, bare palms high in the air. “And yes, this city will fall next. But I am not the one looking to steal it away from you!”