Black Rose (7 page)

The
same roses ran across the walls of the large chambers and then trailed along
the floor to reach the center of the room. A little more manipulation of the
flashlights and Sandra managed to take several steps forward. In the center of
the room was a large slab of black polished stone upon which lay not the black
roses that had been upon the door, but roses the color of freshly spilt
blood. 

A
light appeared in the far corner of the room; a single flame in the darkness.
She stepped towards it, being careful not to trip over the vines beneath her
feet. As she watched, the flame split into two and then split again, slowly
transforming into a roaring fire. 

She
reached the flames and stared in awe, watching the fire dance across the cold
air.  Then, she heard a soft whisper, “No.”  She turned around,
facing away from the light. “No.”

The
stone was covered with piles of soft cushions and thick, dark blankets. Another
fire burned on the opposite side of the room, flames pushing back the darkness.
Edward stood beside the bed bared to the chest, his arms held fast by two men
standing on either side of him. Standing beside him was the most beautiful
woman Sandra had ever seen. She stood in a slender gown of dark fabric that
clung to every curve of her thin frame. Her long black hair hung across her
back in ringlets, every curl in its proper place. Her lips were a ruby red.

Sandra
started to walk forward, but was stopped by pressure on her right arm. She
turned to find a tall man standing beside her with short brown hair dressed in
black. The man shook his head and held Sandra’s arm firmly. He leaned forward,
placing his face by the side of hers. “I’m sorry, my Lady. It will be worse if
you fight.”

“What
is going on?” She heard a sharp gasp and turned her head back towards the bed.
The woman held a large silver knife in her left hand. Blood was running from a
shallow gash along Edward’s left side. “What are you doing?” She tried to move
forward, but was again restrained by the man behind her.

The
woman raised her silver blade. Sandra watched in horror as she slid the side of
the knife over Edward’s upper chest, cutting into the top layer of his skin.
Blood swelled to the surface and began to run in thin rivulets down his chest.
Sandra’s heart began to beat frantically. “Why are you doing this? What is
going on?” Then something hard crashed into the back of her skull.

“Liza!”
She heard Edward’s voice in the background as she fell. Tears sprang to her
eyes from the pain as her vision blurred from the force of the blow. Then the
same guard leaned down and picked her up, planting her firmly back on her
feet. 

“Please,
Princess,” the guard whispered again. “I don’t want to be forced to harm you.”

“I
don’t understand,” Sandra said, her vision slowly clearing. 

“Liza!”
Edward fought the hands that held him, but it was to no avail. “Please,” he
said to the dark-headed woman holding the knife. “Just let her go.”

“I
don’t think so,” the woman replied, her voice singing through the room. “She
will watch, and she will do so silently.” She took the knife, now painted red
with Edward’s blood, and slipped the metal expertly between the layers of skin
on his side, removing the flesh from his well-toned frame. He cried out, a
sickening sound between a sharp hiss and a suppressed scream. 

“No!”
Sandra screamed for him. The sadistic angel gave a nod. The guard hit her with
brutal force, this time across her upper back. She fought to stand against the
stinging pain, but was hit a second, then third time. She fell to the floor
with a harsh thud, her body crashing against the cold stone floor. 

“I
did this!” She heard Edward’s voice again, though it seemed distant to her
ringing ears. “Punish me, my Lady. Not her. It was my doing.”

“I
wish I could believe that,” came the soft, feminine reply. “But it would simply
not be true.”

Sandra
was pulled to her feet once again, but could not stand on her own. The guard
placed his arms around her, holding her upright.  She fought not to vomit
as she turned back to Edward. Unshed tears glistened in his eyes. “Liza.” He
again called her by the unfamiliar name.

“Edward,”
another’s words poured from her lips. “Please, my Lady. Stop this. Let him go!”
The words poured from her lips uncontrollably. “He is the most loyal of all
your knights! The Captain of your Guard. Please, do not do this.”

The
woman stepped across the floor and walked toward where Sandra was being held
upright by the guard behind her. When she finally reached them, the dark woman
leaned forward and whispered in her ear. “The most loyal of knights you say.
Well then, we must reward him for his loyalty, mustn’t we?”

She
nodded toward the guards and as Sandra watched, they began to remove the rest
of Edward’s clothing. “What do you say to…an experience he will never forget?”
Her voice put a chill in Sandra’s heart.

The
two men began to move Edward toward the large bed. He struggled in their
grasp.  The woman moved the silver blade to Sandra’s throat. “You will
cooperate,” she instructed him,  “or else.” 

“I
don’t understand. Why are you doing this?” Sandra looked uncomprehendingly into
Edward’s dark eyes. They were so full of fear she could almost taste it.

The
woman stepped away from Sandra and walked toward the bed. “Remember,” she
whispered, “fight me, and I will personally slice her to bits.”

The
woman leaned down towards the bed and slid her blade down the center of
Edward’s chest. She sliced deeply into the muscle under his skin before
proceeding to thrust the blade between the bones of his ribcage. “No!” Sandra
screamed as she opened her eyes. 

She
was lying on the ground, her head cradled in Regald’s arms. “Sandra!” he said
breathlessly. 

Sandra
screamed scrambling to her feet away from Regald. Tears plastered her cheeks
and her hands shook uncontrollably. “Edward!” she called out as she struggled
to her feet. Where moments ago Edward’s body had lain, there now stood only a
cluster of blood red roses.

“You
fell,” Regald informed her. “You tripped over the rose vines.”

She
looked down at her arms and saw they were covered with scratches from the
thorns on the rose bushes she had fallen upon. They didn’t hurt, but Sandra
assumed that they would later on. She took several slow breaths, her eyes
readjusting to the darkness.

“Whose
chambers are these?”

“The
Queen’s, my Lady.” 

“The
Queen’s?” He nodded. “She tortured him.” Sandra maneuvered around the vines
until she reached the red roses. “She tortured him, sliced into him with a
silver blade. His own Queen. And she forced the woman he loved to watch her do
it.”

Regald’s
voice took on as serious a tone as Sandra had ever heard. “And do you know the
name of that woman?”

Sandra
nodded slowly then turned to meet Regald’s gaze. “Liza.”

Regald’s
expression went slack and they stared at each other, his eyes revealing
nothing.  Then he turned away from her back toward the stone door to the
chamber and realized that the roses lining it were no longer black—they were
violet. “By the Gods,” he whispered turning back to stare at the young woman by
his side. “I will take you to Edward.”

The
first time Mara had met Edward, she was five years old. He had come to visit
her father, a high-ranking lord among the Dark Court. Mara’s mother, Princess
Mellissa, had been alive then, a tall pale-skinned woman with long dark hair
and violet eyes. Mara remembered her as a soft spoken woman with a kind, gentle
touch. However, there was little else she could recall of her mother. Both of
her parents had died when she was still a child, even by mortal standards.

It
was at this young age when Mara declared bravely to the already famous
Sub-Captain that someday, she too would be one of his knights. Her father had
responded to hush her, calling for her mother to escort her from the room. Yet
when her mother approached, Edward had knelt down beside the young girl.

“Tell
me your name, child,” the Knight had said to her.

“Mara,”
she had replied shyly.

“Well,
Lady Mara. Do you know the first rule of being a Knight?”

She
shook her head, and Edward offered her the full weight of his dark eyes. “A
knight must honor the realm and above all else, always keep their word. Do you
think you could do that, my Lady?”

Mara
stared up into his eyes and gave a slow nod. “Well then,” the Knight said and
smiled, “I would say that you may one day make a great knight indeed. I shall
look for you, when you come of age.  If knighthood is still the path you
desire, I will teach you more.”

A
cold gust of wind filtered into the room of the tower Mara had called home for
centuries, pulling her from the recesses of her memories. She slowly slipped
the sheets from her thin frame and grabbed a black satin robe that hung on the
back of the closet door. Donning the robe, she moved to the dresser on the far
side of the room. A tall silver mirror sat atop the dresser. Mara sat in the
chair in front of the mirror and picked up a small white brush and began to run
it through the stands of her long hair.

It
took several minutes for her to completely comb through her tangled locks,
still slightly damp from the night before. When her hair reached a point of
manageability, Mara pulled the locks behind her and fastened them with a thick
black band. Then she proceeded to walk towards the closet, lined with a dozen
pair of identical dark jeans, slacks, and long-sleeved in varying degrees of
thickness, each marked with the silver symbol of the rose. She selected a thin,
long-sleeved shirt and a comfortable pair of dark slacks.

Once
dressed, Mara moved from her private quarters to a large office used by most
members of the Black Rose. Two of her fellow guardsmen were seated inside the
office, staring at computers on the left side of the room. Both stood at their
Captain’s entrance. Mara waved them back down. She walked toward the opposite
side of the room and entered a second door to her private office, closing the
door behind her. Several stacks of folders containing the daily reports lined
the dark desk. 

Mara
ignored the folders and took a seat. She picked up the phone by her desk and
dialed the number for the Arum Court. She asked for Captain Regald. “I’m
sorry,” came the response, “Captain Regald is out of town for the next few
days.”

“Okay,”
she replied. “Then would you please transfer me to the King’s office?”

A
series of beeps come over the phone and a few minutes later, a feminine voice
answered. “King Mathew’s office. How may I help you?”

“This
is Captain Mara Sethian of the Black Rose Guard. I would like to speak to the
King.”

“Hold,
please.”

Mara
again heard a series of beeps and then proceeded to wait for several minutes.
This time, it was a masculine voice that came over the line. “Hello, Mara,” the
Arum King said. “It has been a long time.”

“Greetings,
your Majesty. Yes it has.”

“To
what do I owe the sound of your voice, Captain?”

“Edward.”

“Ah,
still sending you to make his threats, is he? Good to see some things never
change.”

Mara’s
voice grew constricted. “With all due respect, your Majesty, you cannot and
shall not harm the Captain of another court’s guard. You know that better than
anyone.”

“Don’t
you want to know why I did it, Mara? Or are you ready to jump to his defense no
matter what.”

“I
don’t give a shit what you think he did or did not do. You will not harm him
again. Do you understand me?”

A
moment of silence filled the line before the King replied. “Still in love with
him after all these years, Mara?” She did not answer. “You know he cannot love
you, right? He is incapable of doing so. Or is it Liza for whom you are doing
this? Do you think if you protect Edward, you can finally be forgiven for what
happened? It doesn’t work that way, Mara. You know it doesn’t.”

“Your
Majesty,” her words were slow, tight in her throat, “I will make this very
clear. If you or anyone on your guard raises so much as a finger against Edward
again, it will be the last mistake they ever make.”

“Are
you truly threatening a King, Captain?”

“Why
not? I’m the only one who can.”

“Mara.”
The King’s voice softened unexpectedly. “Have you ever thought about putting
down the sword, moving into the modern world? You could do it you know, come
have a place at court. Pass the mantle on to someone else for a while. Come,
Mara, we were friends once.”

“Thank
you for the concern, your Majesty. Did you really think I would not come for
him?”

Mara
heard the king draw a deep breath on the other end of the line. “I guess in a
way, I wanted to know.”

“Well,
now you do. Don’t touch him again, your Majesty. You’ll regret it.”

“Fearless
as ever.” He paused. “Mara, if you threaten me, then you are challenging the
entire Arum Court. Do you really want to do that?”