The Brush Tiger of Derven Ch. 21-23

As King Irron stands upright, his expression begins to lose its charm and is replaced with what Mora guesses to be his true self, "Why Princess Namora, I am afraid I don't understand," he says flatly.

"Oh you don't?" The frigid sarcasm in her voice is obvious. She turns from Irron to look at his guards, searching from face to face. Though they all look different, they share the same blank eyes. Finally, she spots the one she is looking for; his face is dotted with healing scratches and though he sits tall on his horse his right arm seems to rest awkwardly at his side. Frankly, she is surprised that there is only one injured guard, but then she realizes that the others are probably too crippled by their injuries to be of much use to Irron. Mora holds out a slender hand, pointing at him, "Perhaps your guard could remind you."

King Irron looks stiffly at the man before turning back to Mora, warning her to rethink what she says, "I think your imprisonment in Sceadu has begun to affect your rationality."

She smiles tightly, "A piece of advice, my King—the proper way to cut down a burwood tree is with a saw, not an axe."

Even though she is prepared for it, Mora's body is still weak from the previous day, so when King Irron wraps his left arm around her neck she is unable to avoid it. He spins her so suddenly she almost loses her footing. Pressed against his body, she is now facing the Queen.

Though Rick tried to rush to her aid, the Queen has a firm grip over his wrist, stopping him from saving her. Mora locks onto his eyes; not only is he furious but he is also terrified at losing her. He tries to wrench free from his mother's grasp but Mora shakes her head slightly, telling him not to. His face darkens with rage.

Behind them, the Wardens along with Daniel, James and Sari dismount their horses before stepping cautiously forward, swords drawn. When Irron reaches across Mora's body with his right hand, drawing his own sword, everyone freezes. She knows that she is on her own; her mind frantically tries to come up with a plan. The more she squirms the tighter he squeezes, his unforgiving arm threatening to crush her throat.

He whispers into her ear but she knows that the wind carries his words to the others, "It is a shame really, that you managed to live. I was counting on your death to ignite the rage against Sceadu but now I guess I will have to improvise. I am sure that after I kill you, I will be able to convince the Geofens that it was really Prince Varickan and his unkind ways that caused your death."

His chest feels hard against her. She recalls the time he almost broke her wrist with the plate of steel around his middle. Her plan begins to piece together. He starts to drag her backwards towards the public road. She lets her body go limp, forcing him to slow down when he has to carry her extra weight. He shifts his hand from around her neck to just under her arm to compensate, releasing his tight hold on her throat. Desperately, she inhales, forcing the air into her muscles; she hopes that she will be able to summon enough strength. Slowly, everyone moves forward to follow them. Mora thinks she can see the veins pulsing in Rick's neck as he tries to restrain himself from running to her aid. She tries to stall Irron until she can find the last piece of the puzzle, "King Irron—you know my father will fight with the Sceadu."

"I beg to differ, my dear. I will simply let him know that if he does, I will ensure that each and every person who fights against Alumenia will be tortured and murdered. Any Derven, even your father, couldn't stand the thought of allowing that to happen," he purrs to her, his voice thick with pleasure at the thought of death.

"King Irron, please stop...," she lets her voice go small and weak, surprised at how good her acting has become over the past few weeks; she adds a touch of longing, "I will go with you."

Mora knows her lie is convincing when the Sceaduians before her stop, dead in their tracks. The hurt look on Rick's face gives her anger enough fuel to cause her skin warm. She feels slightly betrayed at the idea that he, of all people, believes her. However, his disbelief combined with Sheynne's outrage are enough to make Irron stop. From the corner of her vision she can tell they are but steps away from the public road. Mora clenches desperately at the sides of Irron's cloak, pretending to use her hands to brace herself while she regains her footing; with his face pressed against hers, she can feel his stubble scratch her cheek as he begins to smile. When she finds what she is looking for, she lets her feet plant into the ground. Her hands remain still, grasping his cloak tight; though it appears that she holds on to him for protection, in actuality her left hand is clamped over the wooden knife in his belt.

"Oh really, my love?" Irron tilts his head forward, letting his lips press against the curve of her neck. She focuses on Rick—Sheynne no longer holds him back; completely dumbfounded by her betrayal, he stands alone with his arms folded over his chest. Mora has to close her eyes to block out the pain she causes her love; she leans her head to the side, offering up her skin to Irron. His mouth runs along her neck back up to her ear, "I would prefer you be dead, but I suppose I would rather enjoy bedding you first," he breathes to her.

His arm loosens as he takes a hold of her right shoulder to spin her around. Filling herself up with all of the hatred she has towards him, she feels her face grow cold when she opens her eyes. She is able to catch a brief glimpse of shock on Sheynne's face when it dawns on her. As King Irron spins her to face him, Mora slides the dagger out of its sheath and swings her arm upward with the momentum. She catches him alongside his cheek, leaving a long red gash. He shouts with surprise and drops his sword. When he reaches up to cover his face, he releases Mora. She quickly hikes up her skirt and plants her foot square in his stomach, kicking him harshly backwards onto the public road.

She inches away from him, hands holding her skirt and raising it a little so that she doesn't trip over it. Mora tilts her head to one side, voice heavy with sarcasm as she backs up, "I am shocked, King Irron, that those beautiful words have yet to secure you a wife..." She stops fifteen paces away from him, before releasing her skirt to hide her feet as they plant themselves firmly into the ground. Her body is intentionally turned away from him with her left side forward so that she can hide the dagger in her right hand behind herself. She grasps the blade so tightly in her fingers that it slices into her skin. Though her body is rigid, preparing for attack, no one can tell.

Irron scrambles to his feet, angrily grabbing a sword from one of his guards, "It is a shame you are so beautiful, Princess Namora. I will almost regret not having you to myself before you die."

It is almost as if time begins to slow. She watches Irron's knuckles turn white from his grip on the sword. His whole body shifts forward as he prepares to run at her. With perfect form and execution, her body winds up and releases--before anyone has a chance to react, the dagger leaves Mora's raised hand. She can see each spin it makes, knowing exactly where Irron will be when the two impact. It hits him in the right shoulder with such force that he is thrown off balance before he can bring himself to a stop. The sword falls from his useless hand. She feels a wicked smile form on her face when she knows her perfect aim has completely severed the muscle that controls his dominant arm. The satisfaction she gets from seeing his face change from shock to rage to pure agony makes her own bleeding hand stop hurting.

Clearly in pain but full with anger he screams at her. He has to hold his right arm tightly with his left so that it doesn't move while he backs away towards his guards. Through clenched teeth he snarls at her "I declare war! One week, right here!"

Irron has to be helped onto his horse before they gallop away as fast as possible.

CHAPTER 23: WARDEN

Mora doesn't move until she can no longer see King Irron and his troops. Her body slowly relaxes. She turns towards the Queen and Rick but avoids their eyes by focusing on her sliced up hand. She is upset that Rick thought she would betray him. When she finally raises her head to look upon him, the hurt in her eyes instantly makes him regret his reaction. He stares back at her, apologetic and remorseful.

She is about to say something when the sound of hooves make her tense again. She whips her head around, spotting the source of the noise before anyone else hears it. From the western edge of the field, Lucas rides next to an older man. Clad in teal, he is accompanied by several armored warriors. When they reach Mora and dismount, she looks him over. His rich brown face appears boyish, sleek black curly hair only adding to his youthful exotic appearance; then she spots the crown on the man's head.

Before she has a chance to curtsey, the man stops in front of her and takes a knee. His deep voice contrasts his looks, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Princess Namora."

She steps back a little, shocked at the sight of an equal kneeling down before her, "Prince Philip...you do not have to kneel before me."

He smiles, "I choose to. I have seen everything from the woods over there," he points over his shoulder, "and I have to say that I am thoroughly impressed. I have never seen a woman like you...nor do I think I ever will. While your father is a great ruler, Derven will be a force to reckon with once you take his place."

Mora closes her right hand when her blood starts dripping into the grass. She manages a tight smile, suddenly queasy when she remembers her red dress, "Those are very kind words, Prince Phillip." She feels out his intentions as he rises to his feet, "Hopefully I will get a chance to rule Derven, if we are able to defeat Alumenia..."

He stands and genuinely places his hand over his heart, "By my word, Geofen will be here to help you and your friends." Phillip turns and bows deeply to Queen Sheynne, "If you will open your borders to us, our army, will be here in three days."

She nods gratefully, "All of Geofen is welcome."

Phillip flashes Mora a brilliant smile which makes her blush. He extends his arm forward; she politely places her uninjured hand in it. Very gentlemanlike, he brings it to his lips and kisses the back of her hand, "I hope to see you again, Princess Namora."

She smiles at him, "And you shall, Prince Phillip." Mora doesn't have to look over to know that Rick wears the green mask of jealousy on his face, at the idea of another man touching her so. She can't help but think that he deserves a little punishment for not trusting her earlier.

Phillip mounts his horse and turns west, riding away with his troupe. Mora watches him go not because she cares but so she can avoid Rick's piercing gaze. Feeling the blood drip down her finger tips, she holds her hand out slightly so as not to ruin another dress. When she hears everyone begin to walk back to their horses, Mora turns to follow and is relieved to only see the back of Rick's head as Queen Sheynne talks to him.

"So...the Princess fights?" She states, more than asks; the surprise in her voice it irritates Mora.

"Hard to believe your Majesty but she has quite a temper," he says somewhat proudly.

When they reach the coach, Sheynne looks back at Mora. The distain from earlier is now gone but it is replaced with the knowing smugness that Mora saw when they first met. The Queen looks to Rick before she says, "I think I fancy some fresh air. I will take a horse back to the castle; you two can ride back in the carriage."

Lucas offers up his horse for the Queen. She mounts it gracefully and without delay she turns and trots back to town. Though John, Dell and her guards follow her at once, Eric seems to linger behind briefly. Mora keeps her eyes down, knowing he wishes to talk to her; she doesn't have enough energy to deal with both him and Rick at the moment. Sensing her avoidance, he rushes off after the royal entourage.

Lucas climbs up onto the carriage next to the coachman while James, Daniel and Sari all get onto their horses, each one smiling at Mora.

"That's my Princess," Sari says with a wink before she turns her horse and starts back towards town with the others.

Waiting for her outside the carriage, Rick watches Mora as she walks towards him. He nervously holds the collar in his hands. Though she knows she can't be mad at him for much longer, she keeps her face blank to punish him a while more. She stops before him, watching him squirm. Finally, he lifts the collar up and slides it around her neck but he hesitates, not locking it. His hands rest on her shoulders before his arms drop to the side, "Mora, I can't begin to tell you how..."

He stops when she reaches up but instead of touching him like he thought she would, she clicks the collar shut. Without a word, she climbs into the carriage. He slides in behind her, shutting the door.

Mora stares down at her fist; it is sticky with drying blood. She no longer feels upset with Rick but she doesn't exactly know how to move on from her cold disposition. When she opens her hand, the wound stretches wide, causing it to bleed again. Rick's hand reaches for hers; she looks up at him when it takes it. She watches him slowly bite down on his lip until it starts bleeding.

"I am so sorry I didn't trust you. It was foolish of me," he pauses, bringing her palm to his face. She can feel lips press against her hand, mouth forming words against her skin, "It just seemed impossible that someone as beautiful and magnificent as you could truly want to be with me."

She shivers when his tongue drags along her palm, cleaning up the remaining blood. He lowers her hand and but doesn't let go. His bite has already healed but his lips are still bright red. Slightly taken aback, she doesn't know what to say in response to him. Instead of speaking, she leans forward. She licks their mixed blood off of his lips before pressing her own against his.

When she sits back he looks at her gratefully, relieved that she forgave him. The two sit in silence for a while, lost in each other's eyes as the carriage sways back and forth with the lethargic pace. Finally, Rick speaks again, "Your aim was a little off. A man's heart is here," still holding onto her hand, he lifts it and presses it over the left side of his chest. She watches him for a moment before she moves across the carriage to sit next to him, in the middle of the bench on his side. She leaves her hand on his chest.

"When King Irron came to Derven for his engagement party, he would follow me around the castle so that he could catch me when no one was around. One evening I tried to hide in the orchard but he discovered me. He sat next to me," she scoots closer to Rick, "closer than he should have. He tried, very hard, to do things that should be saved for the privacy of a bedroom, not an orchard."

When Mora sees the anger begin to show in Rick's face, she takes his left hand and slides it behind her back. Making sure she has his attention, she hikes her skirt up a bit to reveal her bare knee. Her usually hidden, pale skin contrasts greatly to the bright red fabric of her dress. She places Rick's right hand on her thigh. His touch sends a jolt of excitement through her body. She can hear his breathing become shallow when his fingers caress her skin.

She takes a big breath to steady her voice before she continues, "He isn't a very kind man but I was in no position to be rude to him, since we were to be married," she slowly slides Rick's hand up her knee and to her inner thigh. Her heart pounds faster. She can tell that Rick is angry at the idea of another man touching her like this but he also is enjoying their reenactment.

Mora takes a hold of his right hand and lifts it up, pulling her dress back down before putting his hand back in her lap. She smiles embarrassedly, mimicking her own words in an overly feminine tone, "I would say, why King Irron, it seems pointless for us to get wound up when we aren't able to do anything about it until after the wedding. But of course, that didn't stop him either."

Mora looks deep into his eyes as she takes a hold of his shirt. She leans backwards on the bench, pulling him down on top of her. She can't help herself when she tips her face up to his, lips touching. She gets carried away in his kiss, her body always wanting more. Rick runs one hand up her rib cage, letting the other find its way back under her skirt to the outside of her thigh, her purrs encouraging him. He presses his body against hers, kissing his way down to her neck.

She moans with excitement but pushes him slightly away from her when she remembers her story had a point, "No, this didn't happen,"

"It better not have," he says, breathlessly, sitting back a little.

Mora gently motions for him to come back towards her; when he leans in, he is stopped unexpectedly by her fist planted in his sternum, "When he tried to do to me," she breathes slowly, calming her racing heart, "what you just succeeded in accomplishing, I stopped him like this. He about broke my arm before he realized it was there. When I cried out in pain, he explained to me that he has a hard time feeling anything on his chest," she unbuttons his shirt so she can run both hands over his bare muscles, around his sides and to his back "because he wears a metal plate around his middle. The only parts that are free are here," she points the soft spots below his shoulders while admiring his toned body.

"I didn't miss his heart because I didn't aim for it—it would have done no good. Instead," she leans forward, nibbling on the skin near the spot she hit on Irron, "I aimed for here so I could sever the muscles that control his sword arm."

"Hmm," he leans forward. Continuing where he left off, his hands wander against her naked skin to find their place, "you are too clever for your own good."

Rick lightly bites at the unclothed portions of her chest, Mora giggling with pleasure. She pulls his shirt out from his pants, determined fingers unbuttoning them. She slides her hands in them along his hips with the full intent of removing his clothing.

There is a soft rap on the door of the carriage.

"Rick, Mora?" Lucas clears his throat, "We're back at the tavern now...I'll...give you a few minutes..."

Caught up in each other, neither of them realized the carriage had stopped. Rick pulls back begrudgingly, looking longingly into her eyes, "I think we should call it an early night."

She pulls her skirt down while he sits up and buttons his shirt. She can feel her face flush with a smile. "I think you are right, I do feel awfully tired," she fakes a yawn. Mora turns to Rick, to help fix his ruffled clothing before they get out. She can't help herself when her hands run up his legs so that she can button his pants.

He smiles wickedly at her, "You will be awfully tired if I have any say in the matter."

Her mouth falls open with shock at his cheeky statement. He laughs and leans forward to kiss her on the cheek, tucking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear.

After they have straightened themselves out, Rick unlatches the door. He slides out, fixing his overcoat before he reaches a hand back in to Mora. This time, when she takes it, he holds her tight, his fingers rubbing her skin. She avoids looking at Lucas, afraid that he knows just exactly what was going on inside of the carriage. Though she is now standing next to Rick, he doesn't let go of her hand. Mora can feel her face turn bright red when he winks at Lucas, "I think the Princess and I both feel a bit more tired than usual...perhaps we will just go to bed."