138 The Hovering Flower

Freyr assisted Macha into his open-top carriage. It was summertime, so he preferred to use the topless carriage because it allowed a nice breeze to flow around him and he could enjoy watching the scenery. The flowers were in bloom and the streets always seemed livelier during the summer months.

Macha ran her palms against the dark blue velvet cushions. Tonight had been so fun, and she wished she did not have to go home yet. As they rode through the roads, a thought crossed her mind. She never celebrated Freyr's birthday with him, so she asked, "Next year, for your birthday, why don't I take you out? We never do anything for you even when Tyr and Luna are in town."

When he heard her offer to be with him on his birthday, his heart felt as if it would burst with joy. Since his parents died, he had always been alone on that day. The city usually held a small parade in Marseille to celebrate his birth, but nothing more than that. Not wanting to seem too enthusiastic, he tried to even out the excitement in his voice, "I'd like that." He discreetly turned his head to hide the wide smile that spread across his face, pretending to be interested in a shop they passed.

They entered the brightly lit courtyard of the Obsidian Dragons and Freyr stepped out and raised a hand to assist Macha out of the carriage.

Tonight he wore a white dress shirt with a white jacket. Around his neck, he tied a black bowtie. A matching black handkerchief was folded neatly in his breast pocket and he pinned a blue violet boutonniere in his lapel.

Macha accepted his hand and allowed him to help her down from the carriage. As she was descending, she spotted a flower that was not falling to the ground. It hovered in the air in the distance, just below the tree where Tyr had told her to wait during her first night in Marseille.

Freyr noticed that she became distracted. "What's wrong? Is there something interesting over there?" He turned to motion with his head in the direction her eyes were fixated.

Francis knew he was still invisible, but wondered why the small woman stared in his direction. He carefully took out an arrow that he dipped in poison. He drew his bow and locked onto the King's chest. He disregarded Macha and decided to shoot while the King was not moving.

The hovering flower confused Macha, she hopped down in next to Freyr and pointed towards it, "Look at that..."

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A sharp piercing pain assailed her right arm. At the same time, Macha went flying into Freyr and a bright golden light erupted between them.

Sierra saw an arrow materialize in the air as it flew and hit Macha's arm. The force caused the small woman to fly into the King.

Immediately activating her tattoo, she teleported to the King's side. The red symbols on her skin burnt away as she appeared next to him. "Your Highness!" she yelled, as she lifted both he and Macha into her arms.

Macha's wide eyes inspected the wound, her face unknowingly twisted in agony. The arrow's shaft had gone through her arm, lodging itself into Freyr's ribs. When her gaze traveled up the wood, she noticed that someone made the arrow's fletching out of ulama feathers which were black with red spots.

Dark crimson blood flowed out from their wounds and dripped down Sierra's armor.

Freyr gritted his teeth when Sierra picked them up. The pain felt worse whenever she took a step. "Put me down! I'm fine. It's only a small wound." He reached around and grabbed Macha's hand. "Macha!" His hands were cold with fear and shook from worry. He did not know how grave her wounds were and worried that the damage was not isolated to her arm.

Macha squeezed his palm. What did not hurt too much at first, rapidly worsened. She clenched her jaw to deal with the pain, "Ahh!" Her breathing came out irregular, drawing in deep breaths. She did not appreciate the jostling that was happening as Sierra turned to the carriage.

Hearing her cry out in pain made Freyr's mind snap back to the situation. In a hardened voice, he gestured to his Captain of the Guard, "Sierra, put us down. The arrow came from by the tree. I want the assailant caught. Now!"

"But," she began but realized there was no room for arguing. "Right away. I'll let the Sathar know." She put them down in the carriage and a few guards surrounded the two as it sped off towards the palace.

Freyr pulled the arrow out of his chest and broke the shaft. Then he carefully slipped the broken part out of Macha's arm. He tossed his jacket to the side and ripped off his dress shirt. He used his shirt and tore long white strips of cloth so he could staunch the wound in her arm.

His blue eyes watered with regret, "I'm sorry. This is all because of my selfishness, I should never have left the palace."

"Ahh!" she cried out when he bound the strips of cloth around her arm. "No, it's not your fault. I'm happy I got hit. If you had taken the entire force of the arrow, you probably would have died." She did not think he needed to worry about her. His words were so full of regret and she did not want him to feel that way about their evening. The wound hurt, but she realized it was minor compared to what might have happened to him.

She noticed his blood seeping out of his chest. Grabbing the remaining rags from him, she bunched them up. "Lie down. I need to put pressure on your wound," she instructed. She patted his shoulder to signal for him to get off of her.

His dark brown bangs hung down towards her face. "No. I don't know if we'll be attacked again. I'll be fine when we reach the palace." He gazed deeply into her eyes, studying her body language to see if her pain was getting worse.

His voice held so much command, which contrasted sharply with the gentle tone she was used to hearing from him. Macha shoved the tattered shirt against his wound and said, "Hold it then. I can't put enough pressure from this angle." She refused to let him bleed out.

"As you wish," he replied, grabbing the rags from her.

A man jumped onto the moving carriage as it raced through the streets. Freyr looked up to see who it was. Recognizing the person, he asked, "Have your men tracked down the assassin?" He doubted it had been a stray arrow or an attack on Macha. After all the unease within the noble circles, he knew the arrow had been meant for him.

The black-haired man bowed, his amber eyes regarded the King with respect. "They are currently pursuing the assailant. They used a potion of invisibility." After reporting they were in pursuit, he stretched his arm out and grabbed a passing branch.

The sudden appearance and disappearance of a stranger startled Macha. "Who was that?" she inquired in a rushed voice. The stress of the past couple minutes started to fray her nerves.

"Uh," he paused. The Sathar was not an organization that many people heard about or could identify. "He helps Sierra with my safely," he offered, this explanation was as much as he could disclose for now.

As they neared the palace, Freyr studied Macha's face. Her lips appeared pale and her breathing was becoming rapid. "Are you feeling all right?" he grew concerned because she had lost a lot of blood during their ride. He also worried that someone poisoned the arrow.

"Yeah, I just feel really dizzy and I'm getting cold. Don't worry, this little wound is nothing."

Freyr cradled her cheek in his hand. Her body temperature dropped and he realized they needed to get help immediately. He grabbed his jacket and covered her with it. "I'll find out who did this to you," he swore.

Her lids became heavy and she shook her head to wake herself up. "Just make sure you're safe. If anything happened to you what would happen to the kingdom? It was only my arm, it will heal." She slapped her cheek and tried to focus her vision. At this point, she fought to keep her eyes open. Freyr's distraught face was the last thing she saw as she drifted out of consciousness.