“You have changed since we came back to Ravenrock. I don’t know who you are anymore!” Trish yelled. “You’ve changed, Katryna. The Katryna I knew never let others decide who she was.”
Trish stepped out, leaving the door ajar. Katryna heard her sobbing as she went down the hall. She rubbed her temples forcefully, trying to relieve some of the tension. She had just realised what she had said, and how badly it must have sounded to Trish.
Katryna felt overwhelmed. She was unsure of what to make of anything anymore. The people around her were changing colours. Castle Bower felt as though it was falling apart, brick by brick. But the worst part of it- she felt unsure of herself.
Everything is becoming unravelled.
Katryna was perhaps one step closer to learning the truth of her parents’ poisonings, yet the truth seemed to be more bitter than she ever expected. It was affecting her more than she cared to admit.
A short time later, Finn came knocking on Katryna’s door. She unbolted it, and with her brother stood her Aunt Rashel and the royal physician Jerrem Denar. They shuffled into her quarters.
“Don’t let anyone else in, please,” Katryna said to the guard at her door. The Infinity Guardsman nodded, his helmet clinking and his crimson and salt-white breastplate gleaming.
Aunt Rashel sat down on the armchair. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her hair beneath her bonnet was unkempt. She looked as though she hadn’t slept in days. Finn stood beside Aunt Rashel with a hand on her shoulder. Jerrem Denar leant against the writing desk.
“How is father?” Katryna asked her aunt.
“His fever has spiked again, and he grew very pale during the night and was vomiting blood. He sleeps at the moment,” Aunt Rashel replied.
Risha looked very worried as she said the words, realising the links to how Mira had died by choking on her own bloody vomit.
Katryna nodded in response. She did not want to pull Aunt Rashel away from her father’s bedside but felt that under the circumstances it warranted it.
“Thank you for coming so soon,” Katryna began. She pulled her long hair back into a ponytail to help concentrate without distraction and folding her arms across her chest. “I had Finn ask you to come on my behalf, to avoid any suspicion from Rowan, or any of his associates or servants in the castle. What I am about to tell you is potentially treasonous, but I say it because I fear that it may be true.”
Katryna spent the next several minutes laying out her suspicions to Aunt Rashel and Jerrem Denar. The two could not look away as Katryna described her theory about Rowan, and his questionable actions.
“Surely this cannot be,” Jerrem Denar croaked. The old man seemed more puzzled than ever, almost determined to put such theories to rest.
“Your brother loves his father, and loved his mother even more so,” Aunt Rashel said.
“I do not claim to be entirely certain of my suspicions yet,” Katryna said. “But I have a responsibility to our House and our kingdom while father is ill. I am acting regent until he dies, under Camridian law.”
Jerrem Denar looked shocked at Katryna’s statement. “My lady, pardon me, but perhaps you should impart such a responsibility to someone more… suited to the role?”
“I am fit for the role,” Katryna objected. “I come to the position bearing no agendas, with nothing to gain, and only the welfare of the people I love to worry about. I’d say I am better suited for the acting regent than anyone in the kingdom.”
Jerrem Denar bowed to Katryna apologetically.
“My lord, Finn told me that you think you know what poison was used on mother and father?” Katryna said.
Jerrem Denar grimaced, sealing his mouth shut as if he did not want to utter another word. He took a seat in the second armchair in Katryna’s quarters over by Risha, slowly rocking back and forth like a nervous child. Katryna could see the battle being waged in his mind.
Aunt Rashel stepped in. “My lord, you are the royal physician. It is your duty to tell us the truth. It could mean saving the king’s life, could it not?” She sounded desperate, her concern stemming from a deep place of sisterly love.
“Creator, forgive me,” Jerrem Denar muttered. “Yes, I believe I know which poison was used. I spent some time looking through my catalogue of potions and tonics, poisons, and mixes, to see if I could match the strange symptoms with anything. The vomiting of blood, in particular, is quite unusual, to say the least. It is something I am unfamiliar with.”
“What did you find?” Katryna said.
Jerrem Denar cleared his throat. “I think I may have discovered which poison was used on the king and queen. It is an old and rare substance, milked from Amaxa rinovatus, the blood lily.”
“Blood lily… Why does that name sound familiar?” Finn asked. Katryna realised that the name was recognisable to her too.
Jerrem Denar nodded. “That is because you know it by its common name, ‘Hunter’s Bane’.”
Finn and Katryna gazed to each other in a collective expression of recognition.
“Hunter’s Bane, that was a historic poison that Camridian boar hunters used to use, wasn’t it?” Finn said.
“Yes, it was, some several hundred years ago. Hunters would dip their arrowheads in a potent mix of the liquid. When struck with an arrow, the boar would quickly drop. The poison caused their blood vessels to suddenly burst.”
“That’s right, I remember learning about it in our history lessons,” Katryna said. “The meat from the hunt was savoured for its juiciness.”
“The poison was used in such high amounts that it would quickly kill the animal before neutralising, leading to rich, juicy venison. They’d hold special feasts for such hunts,” Jerrem Denar continued. “But in low amounts, the poison would act slower. Hunters who were unlucky enough to accidently prick themselves with the arrowheads would die a painful death from haemorrhagic shock, resulting in its nickname.”
“Hunter’s Bane,” Katryna finished. The dots suddenly began to connect in Katryna’s head, but Finn beat her to it.
“Rowan has been out hunting several times these past few weeks,” Finn said shakily.
“He doesn’t happen to use poison-tipped arrows when he hunts, does he?” Katryna asked.
No one in the room responded. They all shrugged, unsure. Katryna spotted sweat lining Jerrem Denar’s sun-spotted, faded hairline.
“My lord, what is it?” Katryna said.
Jerrem Denar took in a long breath. “Some months ago, Prince Rowan came by my quarters, looking for a book in my collection regarding Camridian flora. He claimed it was to research floral arrangements for his upcoming wedding to Lady Ofelia. I’m sure the book would have contained information on the blood lily and its properties. That is why I have been worried so. I am afraid of the possibility.”
This next link in the chain was enough to make Katryna’s skin crawl. She was expecting such things but hearing them did nothing to ease her discomfort.
“However, blood lily is a rare flower to find, and I have not heard of hunters using it in hundreds of years,” Jerrrem Denar said. It was as if he was almost trying to persuade himself.
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 l
ine 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 the opportunity arises,” Landry had said, firmly grasping his long stick with two hands out in front of him as an example, one leg behind him to support his shifting weight.
Rilan had attempted to hit Landry, at his request, while he took up a defensive stance. He rushed at the squire, swinging like a mad man. Rilan was unable to meet any of his hits, as Landry swung his stick back and forth, parrying each of the strikes.
“Two hands; make sure you use two hands,” Landry told Rilan before whacking his stick from his hands, sending it flying. “See?”
“I’m missing a damn finger! Using two hands isn’t exactly all that easy for me!” Rilan jested.
At one-point, old man Hemish overheard the quarrelling. Thinking it was some sort of brawl, he rushed over to see what was happening, only to realise the boys were training.
“What on earth are you lads doing?” he said.
“Just running through some drills. Teaching them proper sword fighting,” Landry responded.
Hemish scoffed. “With sticks? All you’re gonna teach them with sticks is how to be die quicker! Get your swords out, lads.”
Rilan recalled being told by Tomas that he had spoken to Hemish on the journey and had learned that he had spent his time before the invasion training youth recruits.
As such, Rilan became rather eager to learn from someone with a lifetime of experience when he offered to help. Hemish sounded thrilled to be teaching someone again.
Tomas and Rilan did as Hemish had said, drawing their longswords out.
“First thing you need to perfect is your grip,” Hemish explained, holding out his hand to the boys so that they could see how he held the grip. They attempted to mimic his finger positions. “Good. Two hands are always better than one with a longsword.”
Rilan saw Landry raise an eyebrow at him with a smile. Rilan pulled a silly face back at him, but did as the old man said, gripping the sword with both hands despite the shooting pain he felt emanating from his injured finger.
“Now, feel the weight of the sword in your arms as you take up your stance.”
Hemish held his sword out as he changed into defensive stance, head high, leg back, back straight, arms out. Ready to take anything on.
“Practicing your stances is very important, as the squire was showing you. But using sticks will not work to make your muscles strong! Muscles are where all the power comes from!”
Hemish changed directions while in defensive stance, as if readying to parry an upper strike, and then a lower strike in quick succession.
Tomas and Rilan mirrored his moves, feeling the ache of the longswords’ weights in their bodies as they did so.
“Very good,” Hemish said. “Exercising your muscles is the first component of sword fighting. Nine times out of ten, the weaker man is killed first in a fight. So, you need to be the stronger man!”
The boys had practiced for another hour before dropping to the ground exhausted. Everything was throbbing.
“That means you are getting better!” Landry had lau
ghed, tossing a pebble at them.
“So, what happened?” Tomas asked, pulling Rilan back into the present as they walked through the dark towards the clearing. The flaming torch made the trees around them glow and cast long, otherworldly shadows.
“Nothing. Just couldn’t sleep,” Rilan lied.
Tomas huffed. “When are you going to start being honest with me more, Rilan?”
Rilan sealed his mouth firmly shut like a vice.
“I treat you as a brother. You have always looked out for me. Whenever someone pestered me, or my father… But I’m not a kid anymore, I can help. I want to help. You and I promised to look out for one another when we left home, and that’s what I intend to do.”
Rilan shook his head, but he knew Tomas spoke the truth. “Everything has gone to shit ever since we left home. I can feel something brewing, like a coming storm. There are crazy things happening all around us. I cannot put my finger on what it is, but… I’m afraid, Tomas.”
Rilan glanced up at the bleeding star in the clear sky. For some reason, it sent chills down his arms.
“I had another nightmare, alright? This one was different… worse. More vivid, more violent. It bothered me.”
Tomas patted Rilan’s shoulder. “Let’s practice here.” He stuck the torch into the dirt beside them and took up his newly learned defensive stance.
The two began to spar, being careful not to nick each other with their sharp blades. They practiced their stances, using their footwork to test their balance, their posture, and their positioning, as they had been taught.
“Old man Hemish was right,” Tomas said as he struck Rilan’s sword. “My arms are aching. Using real swords is giving me a real work out.”
“You need a good work out- we gotta turn those chicken wings into mutton chops!” Rilan parried another strike, before bringing his sword around from above, resting it gently on Tomas’s shoulder. “Dead.”
Tomas rolled his eyes with a smile, before ducking under the sword and rushing Rilan. The tip of Tomas’s blade met Rilan’s belly. He grimaced and froze, not wanting to risk moving lest he be cut.
Starfall (The Fables of Chaos Book 1) Page 25