Tales of Fire and Ruin

Sweet Poison

The foreman of Ytel's group moved his horse to the front. He didn't dismount, so he literally looked down on me. "Hello, Lord Montbow," he said with the same contemptuous tone Ytel often liked to use when addressing me. His voice was grating and unpleasant to listen to, like scraping on a chalkboard. "We are here for knight commander Ytel's payment. Do you have it prepared?" 

"Hello," I replied through a gritted-teeth smile. "We have prepared our first payment. Will one horse do for today?"

The foreman chuckled. "I'm sorry my lord, but no. One horse is not enough. Now, if there were two..."

My jaw clenched. Unfortunately, the dim-witted vulture could count. He'd seen two horses this morning, so I could've known he'd demand all the horses he'd seen. 

There was movement behind me. I recognised the thwacking of father's cane, Conrad's heavy footsteps, and Gisela's quick, light ones. It seemed more of my family members had seen the men coming. Having an audience ranked up the pressure. I felt the eyes of my family members prickling on my back.

"One horse sounds like it should be enough for a first payment," I tried again. 

The foreman raised a brow, an arrogant smirk dangling on his lips. "We can also go back to Wildewall and tell the court the Montbows will not cooperate and pay their debts."

My stomach sank. That was an end-all argument. I wished their threats were empty. We had little to stand on with the queen's court. They'd have no mercy on us, and the vultures would continue to circle until we no longer had any choice but to give up everything as we no longer had any land and valuables to give. 

"Agreed, then," I begrudgingly said. "Two horses." 

Then, a blur with long silver hair shot past me.

"Wait!" Oleander called out urgently, and all heads turned his way. 

"Oleander," I hissed. "Not now!" 

Oleander ignored me. He stood in front of me and addressed Ytel's men. "What about a healing balm for Bleeding Ivy?"

The foreman looked at Oleander like he was less than a piece of shit stuck under his boot. "Lord Montbow, control your servants," he spat. 

"He's not my servant, I—" 

Oleander faced me, and looked at me with unshakable faith in me written all over his face. "I assure you it works," he said. 

To break his trust hurt me too, but I shook my head. "Oleander, not now," I repeated sternly. "Go back inside." 

Despite my rejection, not once did Oleander's confidence falter. With his head held high, and without breaking eye-contact, Oleander reached into his bag. Behind Oleander, I saw hands moving to pommels and resting there. 

Oleander pulled his hand out of his bag. Clenched firmly between his index finger and thumb was a leaf of Bleeding Ivy. With the way he held the leaf and his burning determination to prove the antidote worked, I instantly realised what he was going to do. 

"Oleander, no!" 

I stepped forward and made a grab for Oleander's wrist, but he easily dodged out of my reach. Without a moment of hesitation, Oleander raised his hand and stung himself in the neck with the leaf. 

A ripple of shock travelled through everyone on the cliffs, even Ytel's men. I heard gasps, and even yelling. 

The poison of the Bleeding Ivy worked exceptionally fast, especially when inserted in a large vein like in the neck. Its largest downside, according to assassins at least, was that the effects weren't subtle. Already,  Oleander's neck started swelling and the skin surrounding the sting turned red. Blood seeped out of the wound, and I was barely fast enough to catch Oleander as his legs gave away and he collapsed.