Rose of the Oath, Page 3

  Chapter 3: Silent Host

  He didn’t come back until dawn.

  Even with my cloak wrapped around me, the chill of the stone floor seeped to my bones. My bow and quiver lay abandoned by my side as I watched the growing patch of grayness spread over the cell floor, spilling to my feet and brightening into something like light.

  Where had that man taken Eldric? I gritted my teeth and my throat was hoarse from shouting. Earlier, my feet had ached from kicking the door, but now they were numb with cold. I tucked my arms more tightly around myself and shivered.

  Helene… Klara… had the rebels come? Were they at the village even now? What if— I jerked the thoughts short, glaring at the rough wood of the door, then shifting my gaze upward. My breath caught in my throat.

  There he was, staring at me, his arms crossed and his hood veiling his gaze. Shards of light reflected off pale scars.

  “Stars above!” I shoved myself to my knees, snatching up my bow. My fingers fumbled for an arrow, but it clattered to the floor.

  With a sigh, the man stepped forward and twisted his key in the lock. He yanked the door open and I staggered to my feet, pressing back against the cell wall, the arrow clutched in my fist.

  What did this beast even want? I shuddered. Where had he got all those scars? And was that blood staining his dark tunic beneath the furs? My throat constricted, but the man stood to the side, inclining his head toward me and holding his hand outward.

  I bit my lip, staring at him. “What do you want?”

  He straightened, one eyebrow lifting as he watched me. His lips parted, then he grimaced.

  “You really can’t talk, can you?”

  The man glared at me but shook his head.

  Great. Just my luck. A captor who couldn’t even speak.

  “What have you done with my brother?”

  The man’s eyes narrowed as he tilted his head. With one hand he motioned outward, then turned and strode away, leaving the door open. The smooth wood of the bow curved against my palm. A steady hand, a quick draw. No. Like as not he’d be able to spin and catch the arrow or something unnatural of that sort.

  Scowling, I hurried from the cell and sprang after the figure. He didn’t even pause. The… the beast. The name fit his scars. Fit the wolf skins cloaking his broad frame. I muffled a sharp cry as my ankle knocked against a stone step. The beast didn’t even turn.

  My jaw clenched and I strode after him. He led the way up the steps, retracing my earlier steps. When we passed through the circle of corridors, the beast continued straight on.

  I hesitated, glancing to my right. Great wooden doors rose up; the same ones I’d entered by. I stared after the beast’s retreating figure then turned and sprinted toward the entrance. I’d offered an exchange. Keeping me here was up to the beast.

  Flinging the doors open, I drew in a cool breath of air as the morning sun flooded the valley floor. Light glittered from a thousand points of dew, flying upward from my boots as I fled across the grass.

  Don’t look back. Don’t hesitate. Just run. Run… The cliff walls narrowed. The forest beckoned, stretching out welcoming arms. It swept about me, the shadows wrapping me in concealment. There! Only several trees spanned the distance between the cliff faces that narrowed to an entrance before spreading out into the Blackwood. The Blackwood and freedom.

  I sprang forward, then stumbled back, crashing to the ground as energy rebounded against me, lacing needles of ice beneath my skin.

  Gasping, I shoved myself to my feet. On either side, the rocks loomed high, framing the entrance of the valley. I lurched forward and slammed against the invisible frigidness. I staggered back a step and my boot caught on a vine. My arms flailed. A strong hand gripped my shoulder, steadying me.

  I jerked away, spinning to face the beast as he leaned back against a tree. His hood still covered his face.

  I glowered at him. “Do you have something against being seen?”

  He shrugged, pulling down the hood and brushing dark hair from his eyes. Wariness mingled with amusement in his gaze. The morning light revealed more scars than those I’d seen the night before. Some were faint, triple or quadruple lines like… claws? Others were darker. Deeper. The man cocked one eyebrow, then glanced beyond me. His lip curled slightly.

  “Did you know that was going to happen?” I demanded.

  He didn’t reply, merely studied the entrance.

  I frowned. “What is the good of a barrier when it doesn’t keep anyone out?”

  The beast lifted his hands and turned away.

  “Wait!” I strode after him. “That’s it? You expect me to come back with you?”

  He glanced at me pointedly.

  I scowled. “You are a beast, aren’t you? Is my brother still here then? Can you get out?”

  He didn’t answer. Of course. With a huff, I glared after his retreating figure. Fine. I could camp here then. There was no need to go into his home.

  A wolf howled in the distance, and my head snapped toward the forest. The beast’s step faltered. When I turned back, he was watching me intently.

  I grimaced, then sighed and strode toward him, resisting the urge to look over my shoulder. The beast nodded to himself and turned back to his home.

  The beast headed up the stairs this time, instead of leading me back to the circle of corridors. I hurried after him, my boots slapping against polished tiles. A banister curved along the edge of the passage, open to the anteroom below. To my left were doors. So many doors.

  The beast rounded one corner, then another. The light was dimmer here, spilling from transoms high above. Fractals of captured sun flashed from hidden crystals. A gleam struck the wall and flashed outward into a million pieces, dancing over the stone.

  I exhaled softly, a faint smile tugging at my lips as I watched the light. My gaze shifted, then jerked to the beast studying me. Heat crept up my neck. I glared at him. “What?”

  He shrugged, pulled open a door and motioned me inside. I glanced at him and edged past, springing into the center of the room. My eyes widened. Sunlight slanted through the window and roses curled over a stone sill. An elegant bed rested in one corner while a small fire blazed on the hearth, warming the tapestries that hung from the walls.

  I spun on the beast. “So…”

  He motioned outward toward the room, then pointed to me. Even without speech, the gestures were clear.

  “This is my room?”

  He nodded, his lips forming two words. For now.

  “On terms of good behavior, is it?” I muttered. My gaze darted about the chamber. The bed was large enough for Helene, Klara, and me. Forget the bed—Helene would sleep on the floor if she had rugs such as these and if Klara got hold of the pencils sitting on the table… I blinked and pivoted toward the beast. “Did you need something else? Because you might have gotten a good sleep last night, but that cell was not comfortable. I’d like some rest.”

  The corner of his mouth curled upward, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes. Heavy eyes, darkened with deep lines. Maybe my capture was on his conscience. I almost smirked and caught myself just in time. “Well, is this my room or not?”

  The beast snorted and turned away, but he didn’t leave. Instead, he settled down against the wall on the opposite side of the corridor and pulled a parchment from his cloak. Splaying it out on a tile he pressed against his knee, he dipped a quill into the ink he’d retrieved from another pocket and started writing.

  I blinked and stared at him for several long minutes, then sprang forward and slammed the door, cutting off the scratching of quill on paper. I dropped the latch and retreated a step. Wrapping my arms around myself, I sank down by the small fire. What was I doing here? And how…? I yanked off my boots and let my cloak drop in a muddied pile, then shoved myself to my feet and rounded the room.

  It was simple and yet luxurious. I scowled. What did the beast expect me to do? Enjoy myself here? A second room opened into a closet full of clothing and a dressing room. A basin. A pitcher of water. An empty tub with—was that a pump? I raised my eyebrows. The beast had city conveniences, did he?

  There was a scuffle outside the door. Something white slipped under it. Footsteps retreated down the hall.

  I swept up the parchment and skimmed the firm, flowing script.

  From the one whom you chose to call Beast,

  To… Beauty. As you have given me a title, I assume I am allowed to give you one as well. Especially because I suspect you’ve no intention of telling me your real name.

  From the way you slammed the door, I assume you find your quarters satisfactory. At least more so than my presence, such as it is.

  I can assure you, I have no intention of harming you, and if you’d put up your bow without sending murderous glares my way every time you see me, it would be appreciated. If it’s any comfort, there are much stronger forces that would kill me if they could. As they currently can’t, you must content yourself with my company.

  Also, as you so astutely observed, I cannot speak at this time. I can hear all your mutterings though, even if I don’t choose to acknowledge them. If you need anything, you can ask. I don’t suppose you can read lips?

  Anyhow, I’d rather your brother be a captive than force you to stay here, but from what you said, he was needed elsewhere. I’m sure you are too, but for the moment you can’t leave, as you discovered earlier. I can’t explain it all right now, but once that rose was picked, the one who did the plucking had to stay inside these walls until—

  Never mind.

  You took your brother’s place and now you are. I’m not even sure how you found this place, or how he found it, for that matter. Normally the entrance is invisible. It must have had something to do with the rose, which should never have left this valley in the first place.

  To sum it all up, I am the current master here and have lived on my own for quite some time. You are now the mistress, but I must ask you to stay indoors at night. It isn’t safe.

  Also, I would invite you to dinner in the hall at six o’clock tonight.

  Until then,

  The Beast of Rosen Den

  Rosen Den? So that’s what he called his palace? I raised my eyebrows. But eat dinner with him? Did he really think I’d consent to that? My stomach rumbled. Exhaustion swept over me, clouding my mind. No sleep the night before, fitful sleep the past week.

  I stumbled to the door, checking the latch. It was strong. Solid. Rubbing my eyes, I collapsed onto the bed. For a few moments, I stared upward at the light tracing its way across the ceiling. My eyes closed of their own accord and darkness swept me away.

  When I awoke, golden beams lanced across my room from the opposite direction. Bells chimed from a rose-shaped clock on the wall. What was it with the beast and his roses? I blinked and dashed the sleep from my eyes.

  Quarter to six.

  Right. He wanted to dine with me.

  I scowled and pressed my hand to my stomach. The room swayed as I stumbled up. I caught the bed post. When had I eaten last? Yesterday at breakfast? The chamber wavered out of focus, then stilled beneath my feet.

  I muffled a groan. Dinner it was, then.

  It only took a handful of minutes to scrub my face. Another minute to brush back my hair. The dresses stashed in the closet were another matter. It wasn’t that they didn’t fit, but they were all too fine. Dresses for a princess. Yet my own was so stained I could hardly wear it. Finally, I chose a muted yellow outfit which flared at the waist. It looked fetching enough, I admitted as I spun before the mirror. I tucked the ribbon Klara gave me into a small pocket and drew a soft breath.

  The clock was chiming the hour when I slipped from my room. A warm meaty scent floated up the stairs and my steps quickened despite the meager willpower I thought I had left.

  Light spilled from a door on the main floor and I hesitated in the shadows. The beast stood inside, his broad frame outlined in the lamplight. The wolf-skin cloak was gone and his shoulders stooped as he fingered something about his wrist.

  Biting my lip, I stepped forward.

  The beast spun, dropping his hand to his side. Even from across the room, I heard his quick inhalation as he stared at me, his eyes sweeping over my gown, then back to my face.

  I hesitated, glancing between him and the small table behind him. Steam rose from several dishes. The beast blinked, shook his head, and motioned me forward while pulling out a chair. My hand crumpled a portion of skirt between my fingers as I advanced, but the beast rounded the other side of the table and took his seat.

  My gaze fell to the table and I stared at the crimson rose by my plate. Was it…?

  I tilted my head and glanced at the beast. His gaze fell to the rose, then he scribbled on a piece of parchment by his side.

  The damage is done now. It would be a pity to waste it.

  A pity to waste it? Such a romantic gift. I smothered a smile. The rose was unlike any I had ever seen. The velvety petals. The fragrant scent. I left it where it was as the beast bowed his head, raising the tips of his fingers to his forehead.

  My brow furrowed. He was… praying?

  He straightened, his expression unchanged as I stared at him, and deftly served out the meal. I watched, unblinking, as he deposited a potato, meat, and gravy onto my plate and more on his. Long fingers. Scars lacing up his hands. Others on his arms until they vanished under his tunic. I forced my fingers from my wrist. How…? Surely they couldn’t all be from them.

  My stomach grumbled and I attacked the meal with relish. It was delicious: the meat savory, the potatoes soft.

  “Who made this?” I asked.

  The beast motioned to himself.

  I raised my eyebrows. “You?”

  His quill scratched on parchment as he continued eating. He held up the paper.

  Do you see anyone else here?

  I opened my mouth, then shut it again, unsure if it was the clear sarcasm or the fact he’d actually taken the time to write such a retort down.

  “What about my brother.” I speared a bite of meat. “What did you do with him?”

  The beast raised his quill again, but I stopped him. “Couldn’t you do it in the air?”

  The beast’s brow furrowed.

  “Draw in the air with your finger. I had an uncle once who couldn’t talk and did that.”

  The beast shrugged, laying the pen aside. Narrowing his eyes, he moved his finger up and down. I tilted my head.

  I. Took. Your. Brother. Away.

  “Away?” I blinked.

  Out. His fingers quickened, blurring letters together.

  I held out my hands. “Wait a minute. Slowly. And without the flourishes.”

  The beast rolled his eyes but complied. Left him by the road. He’ll be safe with your sisters by now.

  Safe with my sisters. My throat tightened and I stared at my meal. My hunger vanished.

  I excused myself soon after and hurried back to my room, the corridors now barely lit with fading sunlight. Latching the door behind me, I collapsed onto my bed and wept soundlessly.

  When I finally slept, the howls of wolves echoed through my dreams.

  He waited in the center of the valley, the roses spread at his feet. A howl echoed through the forest, then another and yet another. Overhead, a falcon glided across the moon and swooped downward.

  He shifted his sword to his shoulder, his gaze flitting across the shadows of the forest that broke onto the turf. The rose was gone, but there was a more important treasure to protect now.

  She’d be safe in the fortress. He hoped. The wolves would come.

  Just like before, they’d come again and again.

  This time, he might not be able to hold them off.