Katryna could hear the doubt in Jerrem’s voice, but the evidence was adding up and even he could not deny how suspicious it all sounded.
“Nonetheless, we cannot ignore this,” Aunt Rashel said.
“I agree,” Katryna said.
Finn’s eyes remained wide. He ran his fingers through his curls. He was clearly stressed to think that his brother could be responsible for such a horrific scheme against their own House.
“What do we do?” Finn asked.
Katryna thought for a moment. She did not want to have Rowan arrested, not yet anyway. She felt the royal family teetering on the edge of a cliff, like an out-of-control carriage about to go over.
She knew that doing so would make her Uncle Hector and Aunt Helen, as well as many of Camridia’s barons and lords, to become suspicious of her motives.
Locking up the next in line for the throne; it did not look good. Why trust a runaway princess at all?
Katryna needed evidence of his crimes.
“For now, we keep on alert. We don’t know what Rowan is planning to do next. If this was really orchestrated by him, then we could all be in danger. As such, we must keep quiet, and act as normal as possible,” Katryna said.
“Now that you know what poison it is, is there any chance you can help father?” Finn asked Jerrem Denar.
Aunt Rashel leant forward, awaiting his response with returning hopes. The prospect seemed logical.
The old man hesitated before responding, however. “I’m sorry, my prince. I’m afraid Hunter’s Bane is incurable, to the best of my knowledge. The dosage given to the king and queen was small enough that it has prolonged their suffering, however I believe that your father will soon pass and transcend.”
“How long?” Katryna asked hesitantly. “How long does he have left?”
Jerrem Denar shook his head. “Not long, I’m afraid… I doubt your father will last another night.”
Chapter 21 - A Coming Storm
Rilan was running in a storm of ice and flame.
Each step he took was with sheer desperation. The footprints embedded in the snow beneath him filled with blood, rising from the earth.
Surrounding him were the spinning maelstroms of screams and shadowy monstrosities. They were hunting him, stalking him.
Rilan kept on running, forcing his legs forward until they were burning with exhaustion.
As he fled, he began to choke on blood. Thick, metal-tasting blood, that was rising from his throat. He coughed and attempted to spit it out. But it did not stop.
Eventually he had to pause; he could not take in enough oxygen to continue. He fell to his knees, gagging on the blood in his mouth and throat that was blocking his airways.
He heard Tomas screaming his name in the shadowy distance. “Rilan!”
He glared at the menacing clouds in the starless sky above, seeing the red star glowing like a hot ember in the night, before falling into the blood-ridden snow beneath him.
※
Rilan jumped up out of his nightmare, clutching at his throat with desperate fingers and attempting to cough up the blood he had imagined drowning in.
He breathed a sigh of relief when he realised that he was safe. It had all been a horrific nightmare.
The stump where Rilan’s finger had been severed ached like nothing he’d ever felt before. He looked at the bandaged hand, soaked in foul-smelling yellow and red liquid.
Not good.
Rilan had begun to work up a fever. He wiped drops of sweat from his face and grabbed his waterskin to cool himself off, despite the night air being bitterly chilly already.
Beside Rilan, Tomas slept soundly in his bedroll. Landry had taken up a spot near Captain Gharland’s tent. The boys, meanwhile, were set up under a rocky overhang. It gave them a nice sense of protection.
Across their makeshift campsite, Rilan spotted the two brutes who had attacked him, Ref and Styna, sitting up and chuckling to themselves as they stared over.
Ref held up his hunting knife to his unshaven neck, pretending to slice it as he sneered. Rilan could see his blackened teeth from across the camp. He looked away, pretending he had not observed the threat at all.
Rilan nudged Tomas out of his sleep. “Get up.”
“Wha… what-what? What is it?” Tomas murmured, rubbing his eyes as he woke up.
“I want to spar some more.”
Tomas looked around, confused. “At this hour?”
“Aye. I need the distraction.” Rilan did not await an answer. He grabbed his scabbard with the sword inside and stood up from his bedroll.
Tomas stared into his eyes and appeared to understand that Rilan was anxious and uneasy. “How about we boil some water, and we-”
“Please, Tomas,” Rilan said.
“Alright, alright.”
Most of the camp was asleep, the air still thick with the smell of rabbit they had roasted on a spit above the fire. Landry had spotted one as they set up camp and was quick to send an arrow into the animal before it hopped off. The squire was a great shot.
Smiling John was snoring so loud that he sounded like a far-off thunderstorm.
Rilan grabbed a flaming torch to light the way as the two stepped out quietly from the campsite, trying not to awaken those who were sleeping. The night was still and quiet. They went back to a small clearing where they had practiced earlier that night after supper with Landry.
Landry had kept his word about teaching them how to fight and had begun running some drills and sparring fights. Each night they had found a spot away from camp to practice with sticks, and avoid the snakes’ eyes of their superiors, and Ref and Styna.
Landry began by teaching them simple stances- aggressive and defensive.
“Taking a defensive stance allows you to properly react to any move your opponent makes, before engaging when
