The Werewolf Order (Erotica)

She discovers another secret, not ever knowing that there was a set of armor for the Queen, just like she didn’t know immortals existed or that her mother was one. With her eyes finally open to the world, she now sees that it has lost its glossy, pristine shine, instead it is tarnished with lies and enigmas. She holds no animosity to anyone-Mora doubts that before the arduous quest she would have been ready to handle all that has now been dumped on her. She drains the last of the wine from the bottle, setting it next to the throne. Briefly dozing off, she is awakened when Eunice arrives, accompanied by two soldiers carrying a large chest.

The men struggle to carry it over to her, bowing after they put it down at the base of the steps. After they leave, Eunice hands Mora a tight pair of under clothing made from dark red leather. She unlaces the back of her dress, leaving the Queen to change while she works on unlocking the chest and opening it. Even though the old woman has seen Mora naked several times over her life, she has never felt comfortable being nude around her; now, however, after Rick has explored the curves and bends of her body with both his hands and his lips, Mora finds that she is no longer embarrassed by her bare flesh.

Pulling the leather shirt over her head, she waits anxiously while Eunice dresses her. There is a feminine armor piece that covers from her neck down to her waist with shoulder caps and slim chain mail pants. The two are joined by a skirt of divided leather. The knee high leather boots fit over the pants well; all are a dark shade of red, even the metal is tinted such. The last thing that Eunice pulls from the box is a slender red helmet that covers all of the head but the face. The top of the helmet was molded into a crown that resembles the Queen’s, with dark red jewels adorning it in the same places. Eunice quickly fixes Mora’s hair, removing the regular crown and tightening it up so that all of her locks will fit inside the helmet.From NôvelDrama.Org.

Though covered in metal, Mora finds that it is her anxiety that weighs her down the most. She paces about the throne room nervously after Eunice leaves, making herself wait until just before sunset to go to the royal stable. Once she is there, she finds that Greystar has been outfitted with armor of his own; matching the red metal of hers, he has a face plate that is attached to a pleated mane cover. With a broad chest plate and a metal skirt on his rump, he oddly reminds her of something that she would expect Alumenia to produce.

Mora busies herself with checking the straps on his saddle, armor and bridle as she is having difficulty passing the time until sunset; her body is restless and she wants leave Derven now so that she can return to Sceadu. Even though she has spent the majority of her life alone, after the past few weeks it feels odd to not be near people, not to be near Rick. Affixing her sword onto his saddle, she carefully packs a quiver of arrows on the opposite side along with her bow. It is only her hunting knife that she keeps on her person, plus a dozen smaller ones that fit in a holster on her leg. Wrapping a thin leather string around her mother’s bone knife, she slips one arm through it and over her neck to keep it secure. When she mounts Greystar, she clips her helmet to the saddle horn for safe keeping. Knowing where he is supposed to go, she doesn’t even need to hold the reins as the large horse wanders out of the barn and around the castle to the town square.

Mora isn’t sure what she expects is waiting there for her-a dozen men, perhaps two? Maybe a few women? Hopefully a few more will be able to join Laren in the morning. She knows that it won’t be as many as Sceadu needs, but any is better than none. Greystar picks up speed and trots down the path, rounding the orchards next to the castle. As the square comes into view, she is shocked. Packed to the brim with people on horses, all clad in red, she has to stop just outside of it. Mora has no idea how many there are, but it is more than a hundred.

She scans the crowd; she sees familiar faces-merchants, venders, farmers, women from the Festival. When they finally see her, Officer Jackson trots over to greet the Queen. Unable to bow, he puts his fist on his chest.

“There are more than this who will ride in the morning, your Majesty.”

Mora closes her eyes and nods, “Thank you.”

The large group rides towards the setting sun; it is an odd sound that the hundred horses make with their hooves on the dirt and the metal of the weapons bouncing above them. Greystar must sense Mora’s anxiousness because no matter how hard she tries to slow him, he lopes at a quick trot. The army behind her keeps pace without complaint, Jackson riding at her side. When Mora reaches the spot where the tree fell, she manages to stop Greystar. The road is littered with broken bark, the grass in the neutral area flattened out. The red ribbon remains forgotten, still tied between the trees. She turns to Officer Jackson.

“I will to ride into town to let Prince Varickan know we are here.”

He nods, “I will go with you, my lady.”

“That won’t be necessary,” she smiles.

He shifts uncomfortably in the saddle, “Your Majesty… Advisor Laren…”

Mora understands, “Fine, come with me. Tell whoever is next in command that they will wait here until our return, but to take care not to cross past that ribbon into Sceadu.”

Jackson nods and turns to talk to another officer, conveying her orders. The two set off into the dark forest on the eastern edge of Sceadu. Mora gets a bad feeling that something is wrong; after finding the overgrown path that leads to back into town, she urges her horse to move faster. Adrenaline pumps through her veins, her heart beating in time with Greystar’s hooves. They ride at a gallop for over an hour, never crossing paths with anyone.

When they reach the town, her feelings are confirmed. While there are lights on in the houses, there is no one about and no one looks out from the windows. Greystar skids to a halt when he comes up on the Tavern. Mora leaps off, crossing the boardwalk swiftly while Jackson rushes to tie his horse to the post. She finds it unnerving that no one has greeted them yet.

“This is where the Prince lives?” Jackson says disapprovingly, catching up to her.

She nods, “Sceadu isn’t your typical country…” Mora pushes against the tavern doors and only to find them locked. Surely the tavern would be open and bustling with activity at this time of night; she tries again without success. Jackson takes a step back, waiting for her to clear out before he raises his foot and with a swift shove he kicks it open. Mora rushes inside.

On the other side of the door, stands Jacob, barely visible in the dim light that a single torch provides. He looks terrified and holds a sword out at Mora. Jackson steps in front of her, irritated that he would dare threaten the Queen; he quickly disarms the boy.

“You will bow in the presence of Queen Namora,” he commands, voice harsh and unforgiving.

“Queen… Namora? Mora, is that you?” Jacob looks shocked, not recognizing her.

Jackson raises his hand at Jacob, clearly angered by his insolence but Mora sets a hand on his shoulder, letting him know his anger isn’t necessary.

“Where is Rick, Jacob?” she presses the boy.

“He’s… gone,” Jacob is so terrified that he starts crying uncontrollably. Mora looks around the empty bar-glasses and weapons are strewn all over the place as if everyone vanished into thin air. She turns and bounds up the steps as fast as she can. Shoving the bedroom doors open, she finds the room cold. The fire burnt out shortly after she left and was never rekindled. All she finds are Rick’s clothes thrown hastily on the floor. Running back down the stairs, she sees that Jackson has set the boy down in a chair. He speaks to him softly, getting him to calm down so he can explain what happened. Mora waits impatiently for the boy to talk.

“Not long after you left we got word from the sentries that King Irron’s army was on their way to the field. Rick and the others didn’t have much time; everyone left a few hours ago.”

She pauses for a brief moment, before speaking swiftly to Jackson, “Ride back as fast as you can to the army; lead them as quickly as possible down the path we took to get to town. To reach the southern Meadow, you continue on the road, it will lead you straight to it. You must hurry, it should take you about three hours to get there with everyone,” before he can respond she turns and walks out of the tavern, quickly mounting Greystar.

“Queen Namora, where are you going?” Jackson runs after her.

“To war,” is all she says before Greystar leaps into a full run.