The Brush Tiger of Derven Ch. 26-27

Irron coughs up blood onto his lips, his brows crinkle in confusion when his arms lose their strength and drift away from her head. Mora grabs onto his shoulders shoves him off. She stands in time to watch the life drain out of his eyes. She spits the last of his blood from her mouth, wiping it off on the back of her arm.

All around her, soldiers drop their weapons, snapping out of the enchantment that Irron's blood had over them. They fall to their knees, arms up in surrender. Shouts of victory ring out across the field but Mora doesn't care; she stumbles over to Rick's body. Refusing to admit that he is gone, she tries to shake him again, screaming his name with her hoarse voice.

She rips his leather armor off, tearing his shirt in half to expose his chest. His wound still bleeds bright red blood all over his skin. Flashes of her own blood on the white dress, matted in her hair and on Rick's lips tear through her mind. Without even thinking, she swiftly bites her tongue so hard that she almost severs it from her body, the blood rushes into her mouth. She leans over him, pouring her blood and saliva into his wound. She presses her lips against his body, urging her Sceaduian heritage to work its magic. She can feel his skin move beneath her lips. She pulls back and before her eyes she watches the wound heal itself, growing closed until there is nothing left but blood on smooth flesh.

Expectantly, Mora looks up to Rick, holding his head in her hands. She whispers to him, "Rick? Rick! Come back—I love you."

There is no response.

Slowly, she loses the grip on her control. Her body, trembling with loss, falls over him and she buries her head into Rick's chest. Her shoulders heave with sobs. Her heart aches as if it was the one that was stabbed. She wills herself to die because even though they won the war, she has lost everything she has ever loved.

She feels a tug on her shoulders, as if someone is trying to pull her away from him. She shrugs it off, clinging tightly to Rick's body, refusing to let go of him. The hand comes back persistently, fingers wrapping into her hair to tug her head away. She blinks through tears, no longer caring who sees her cry but wanting to know who would dare try to separate them.

Mora sees something bright blue. When her vision clears, the bright blue splits into two—two blue eyes that stare right back at her. Heart swooning, she thinks she has died because she looks upon Rick's calm face. When his hands wipe away her tears, she knows she is still alive. And so is he.

He smiles gently at her, "What's the matter beautiful, cat got your tongue?"

A sob racks her body when she presses her lips to his. Rick's arms constrict around her, his mouth covering hers, tasting the warmth of her blood. Gently, he pulls away from her, his large hands caressing her face. She sniffles in relief, her aching, broken body flopping back onto the grass next to him.

"I'm sorry I killed you," she says quietly, her voice quivering while she tries to regain control of her emotions.

"I—I am not entirely sure what happened. I didn't want to hurt you, but it was like I had no say over my own body," his voice is unnerved.

Rick forces himself to his feet before leaning down and gathering her up in his arms. He tries to carry her but she insists that he set her down. Painfully, she stands on her own two feet; Greystar rushes over, almost knocking her back down when he nuzzles his head into her stomach. Resting her forehead on his, she gently strokes his cheek and pulls on his ear, assuring the beast that she is more or less alive.

Officer Jackson gallops over, dismounting his horse when he reaches Mora; his face is wrought with concern, his wary glance at Rick makes it clear that he witnessed their fight, "Queen Namora—are you all right?"

"I will live," she replies, attempting to mount Greystar but her injured leg impedes the process; Rick's large hands circle her waist and he lifts her up onto the saddle. Mora ignores Jackson's wide eyes, issuing him an order instead, "Surround Irron's body—absolutely no one touches it, do you understand?"

With his fist over his heart, he bows his head, "Yes, my Queen. Advisor Laren just arrived." He nods towards the public road leading from Derven, before gathering some soldiers to follow her order.

The Meadow is strewn with dead bodies, injured men, broken weapons and clusters of enemies surrounded by the remaining Derven and Sceduian soldiers. The groups within sit on the ground or kneel, though she is shocked to see not only Alumenians in gold, but also men in black who were forcibly turned against their allies.

Mora urges Greystar forward slowly; she can see the King Wallace, his son and another man come towards her from the left, Queen Sheynne and Kelvin from the front and Laren from her right. Rick walks alongside her horse, before they stop and wait for the others to approach. He glances up at her, his hand trailing along the red battle armor over the horse's mane, "Red is a very fetching color on you, Queen Namora."

Looking down at him, she finds the formality of her title sounds odd in his deep voice. Rick leans his face forward, pressing his lips into the knife wound in her thigh; she feels the tightness as her body heals and the skin regrows under his lips. When it is done, he sincerely looks up into her eyes, "Will you marry me?"

A smile crosses her lips but before she can reply the others join their party; Mora addresses Laren first, "Have the women guard the prisoners. Send the fresh men that arrived with you to attend to the bodies; return the fallen Alumenian soldiers to the opposite side of the public road, the Geofens further down, Sceduians close to the forest and our people closer to Derven. Gather any healers among the Derven and have them attend to the wounded." Laren nods his head, before speaking to the officers behind him; Mora addresses the King Wallace and Queen Sheynne, "Do you have any healers?"

"We have a few," the King replies, before directing his son to pass along the orders.

"We heal ourselves," Sheynne says coldly.

Mora draws in a deep breath, addressing Kelvin, "Fine, have your men start healing those amongst the prisoners."

His voice is strained as he fights to be respectful of her new position, "That is not how we deal with prisoners. Punishment is death."

When the Wallace draws in a breath to argue, Mora cuts him off, the sharpness of her voice making it clear that her wishes will be followed, "Do as I say."

Kelvin glances at Sheynne; she addresses Mora, "Queen Namora, it is not within my country's best interest to harbor traitors. Those of my men that betrayed us will be killed in alignment with our customs."

"You would kill your own son too?" Mora snaps; before Sheynne answers, she continues, "Our countries have kept secrets from one another—there is an explanation for their actions and they are not to be harmed for something beyond their control."

"Please, enlighten us, Queen Namora," Prince Philip says calmly, trying to ease the tension of the group, "I know I, for one, would like an explanation as to how my leg was healed."

Sheynne shifts uneasily on her saddle, clearly not about to explain the secrets of her country to them but Rick speaks instead, "It is true that Sceadu values its privacy, however it is evident that our ways are very, very foreign to you. We have the ability to survive for months at a time without food, our only sustenance is a wine that is harvested from a special source within our lands. The wine is very similar to blood and our bodies have adapted to drink blood as a viable option to the wine. Not all of us can live this way, it takes time and training to become what we call a creature of the darkness. Once we have obtained our goals, it not only frees us of the need for food, but it gives us the ability to see very well at night, to move quickly and quietly and to instantly heal wounds when our blood is mixed with our saliva. The downside to becoming a creature of the darkness is that we have an aversion to direct sunlight—it feels as if it burns our skin. And when we drink the blood instead of wine, it tends to make us lose a grip on our conscience causing us to become more savage."

Wallace, Philip and the other man with them who Mora takes to be their Advisor, all look stunned, neither having heard this before. Laren, on the other hand, remains stoic as ever.

"You knew this? How long?" King Wallace demands of Mora.

"I've known for a while," she admits. After a pause, she continues, "Yesterday, on his deathbed, my father confessed another secret to me. My mother was an immortal," she ignores the chuffs of everyone. "She fled her home in Sceadu because she was being hunted by another immortal—King Irron. She did the only thing she could, to keep my father and I safe, by taking her own life. My father expressed to me that I was the only one left with the power to kill him, and that an immortal's blood is infectious—anyone who drinks it becomes a mindless being, at the whim of the immortal. That is how he controlled his country, how his soldiers fought so meticulously synchronized and why after Advisor Kelvin called for the creatures of the darkness to drink, they all turned on us." She gives Kelvin a harsh look, "So, as you can see, the prisoners had no control over their actions. They should not be killed for King Irron's control."

"It is true," Rick says softly, "after I heard the cry, I drank from the body of an Alumenian soldier. I saw everything that happened, but no matter how hard I tried it was as if my body responded to someone else's command—I attacked Queen Namora," he shamefully admits. "Her stubborn determination to not kill me is the only reason why I am still alive."

Their shocked silence permeates the small group; finally, Sheynne turns to Kelvin, "Do as Queen Namora asked—have our men among the prisoners heal those that are wounded."

Kelvin nods stiffly before relaying the command to a nearby soldier. Turning to Mora, as she is obviously in charge of this exchange, he tensely asks, "And what is it that I am supposed to tell my men? They will see those that fought against them as enemies—their corruption will not be easily forgotten."

"Aye," agrees Wallace, "I am having a hard enough time considering the possibility of an immortal being—I certainly do not want to tell my kinsmen this."

"King Irron used dark magic," Prince Philip offers, "He was able to bewitch the men in his country and when those of Sceadu drank their blood, the spell took them over. They had no control over their actions."

Heads nod around the group. "It is agreed then," Mora confirms, "this goes for the Alumenian prisoners too—they will be allowed to return to their country." Kelvin turns and heads towards the prisoners to dispatch his orders.

"Who will run Alumenia?" Queen Sheynne asks, though from the tone in her voice it is clear she desires the rights to the throne.

"Advisor Laren will oversee it with a contingency of Derven men for security, until such a time that an Alumenian King can be chosen," Mora says firmly. Laren sits up tall in his saddle, clearly surprised with the decree.

"And what gives you the right to decide this?" Sheynne scoffs at Mora, "Not only does Derven have more skilled soldiers than Sceadu as is now apparent, but giving you control over their resources puts both my country and Geofen at a disadvantage."

"I am actually in agreement with your choice, Queen Namora. I knew your father well and having Derven run things intermediately makes the most sense; your country is the most neutral of us all. My only request would be that my Advisor Kenneth to oversee it with him," Wallace says.

Mora nods; Laren bows his head, accepting the offer, "That would be agreeable, King Wallace."

Just as Sheynne draws a breath to interject, Rick cuts her off, "I also agree with Queen Namora, as I will always come to agreement with my future wife; you have no reason to fear, mother, I will make sure Sceadu's interests are always considered."

The surprise on Sheynne's face is not an expression any of them have seen much of; when she glances to Mora, her voice conveys her expression, "Is this true?"

Turning towards Rick, she rests a gentle hand on his shoulder. She smiles down at him, though her voice is caught in her throat when she makes an attempt to speak. Mora feels that their relationship should not be put on display for all, especially as they haven't had much time alone to get to know each other fully. She desires to wait on making the proclamation official—after being rushed into an engagement with Irron, Mora feels that going slowly would be the wisest course of action, though she has fully given him her heart, her mind holds steadfast in this.

"Congratulations, Queen Namora, Prince Varickan," King Wallace offers despite her silence. "Let us leave this discussion on that high note—I invite you all to come to Geofen in a week so that we can further discuss the future of Alumenia." He lowers his head slightly before turning his horse and leaving. Prince Philip offers a smile, clasping Rick's shoulder before following his father.

Queen Sheynne clenches her jaw, clearly at an impasse with her ploy to unite the couple; she nods briefly, before turning her horse around, "Come, Varickan. We have matters to attend to before the sun rises too high."

Rick watches his mother head back towards the borders of Sceadu, before turning towards Namora, hesitant to leave her side again. Lightly, her fingers brush his cheek, "Go. When you are finished, I will be in the castle in Derven."

He offers her a soft smile, catching her hand to kiss the back of it, "As you wish, Queen Namora."

Her and Laren watch the others retreat. When they are beyond earshot, his voice is quiet, "The battle now done, the tiger now free, the hunter and her will forever be. Though time's mystery has yet been unfold, the secrets spoken amongst the orchard to be told. The poet senses intentional half truths, given to the rulers to prevent their coups. The sun has set into its permanence, what shall become of its evidence?"

Mora closes her eyes, struggling through the pain of her damaged body to unscramble his message; she grimaces, placing her hand on her ribs when she tries to draw a full breath. Glancing around to ensure that no one is near before she plainly replies to Laren, her voice a whisper, "Have Franklin and Jackson take Irron's body back to Derven and burn it on a stone pyre. I want the immortal metal collected once he is ash and have it stored in the royal vault—as my father would say, it is better to prevent someone from committing a crime than to punish them when they do. During your stay at the Alumenian castle, please keep an eye out for more of the immortal metal; I have a suspicion that after Irron killed the others he collected it. Now, what was in the letter my father gave you?"

Laren draws a deep breath, surprised at her bluntness yet he returns the favor, "Irron had a bastard son. Rightfully, per their law, he is now heir to the throne."

The shock is now hers, "How come no one but my father knew of this?"

"The boy's mother was one of many women whom Irron took liberties with—all of them were executed if they became pregnant, but she managed to escape to Geofen. During one of your father's visits there, he encountered her, poor and desolate, her belly swollen with a bastard child. King Nathanial took pity on her, as she reminded him of your mother, at least by way of situation having to flee her country because of Irron, so he provided for her in secret assuring that she raised the boy properly. She lived in Geofen for two decades before she died, at which time the King brought the son to Derven and gave him a home just outside the western village."

Her eyes drift shut again and she silently curses her father for being so secretive about this, "How long ago was it that he came to Derven? What is his name?"

"His name is Irving and he has lived in Derven for ten years. He's only a few months older than you, my Queen."

"Did you know?"

Laren sighs, "I knew about your mother and the immortals, yes. I knew that your father helped this woman out and I knew of the man—I trained him to fight when he arrived in Derven. However, I did not know who his father was and apparently, neither does he."

Huffing a laugh, she looks at her old friend, "So Alumenia has an heir, though anyone who knew as much or could confirm it is dead. Perhaps we should just let him live out his life in peace?"

Tilting his head, Laren looks out over the field of dead bodies being laid in neat rows by able men, "It is an interesting notion, Queen Namora. In his letter, your father gave me the location of an affidavit written by Irving's mother as to the circumstances of his conception. It was signed not only by King Nathanial, but by your mother and by King Wallace's father, who is now deceased. It provides more than enough proof as to his claim on the throne." He looks over to her, "But, your father left the decision to expose this entirely to you."

"Of course he did," she grumbles under her breath. She sighs, "Is he a good man?"

Laren is silent for a moment, "That, my Queen, is something you will have to determine for yourself."

CHAPTER 27: LIES

As Laren made it clear there was no reason for her to remain in the Meadow, she slowly makes her way back to Derven. Behind her Franklin and Jackson ride as her guard, though the spare horse they lead carries the red shrouded body of Irron. Neither of the men questioned the orders of Laren, knowing they had come from the Queen herself. After all they have been through, Mora knows she can trust them to keep their mouths shut and take care of the task at hand.

They reach the main road leading to the castle by midday; Mora gives them permission to take their leave so that they don't have to walk a dead body through the small town. Greystar breaks into a trot once the castle is in sight, just as eager to get home as she is; her pain is substantial and she is having a hard time keeping her eyes open after remaining awake for over a day.

She takes in the sight of the castle as it unfolds to her, almost looking upon it as a stranger; until a few weeks ago, she hadn't left Derven since she was a child but now that she has been absent for a while her old life almost seems like a dream. The castle is vast and large, a mixture of rich wood beams and light colored square stones, bigger than the dark stone one of Sceadu. Though the tall structure only houses a two floors above the cellar below, the entire roof has enough surface area to host a large ball. From the stories she heard, when her mother was alive they would frequently celebrate weddings up there because she adored dancing, however after her death her father quickly dismissed the practice as it was a constant reminder of his loss.

The castle is three times as long as it is wide, the orchard stretches half of the length on the west side, the stables and royal pasture on the east. Though the land surrounding it and encompassing the town that lies just before it were laboriously cleared into open fields, the forest just beyond them is thick and dense.

During her trot through the town to the castle stairs, though all know the outcome of the battle, no one cheers for her victory; instead any that are within her path solemnly bow their heads, resting their hands over their hearts. For those of Derven, the cost of war is too high no matter what the results and being one of them, Mora whole heartedly agrees; she is thankful that none of the close friends she has made over the past few weeks lost their lives but that does little to ease her grief for all of those who didn't fare as well.

A man from the stable greets her at the base of the stairs, ready to tend to Greystar. As she forces herself to ascend them, she discovers Eunice waiting for her just inside the door.