The White Rose

8. Out for Blood

She passes the slouched fences that divide her land from the road, both her and Rephas have been meaning to fix them for the longest time. There was never a rush, never a dire need to keep anything out. Until things changed.

Large oak trees litter the sides of the road, offering shade when all Nura wants is more sun, more warmth, more reassurance that the world isn't dark and cold.

The dirt road seems to stretch on before her, lengthening with every stride her mare takes. The distance between Nura and the trails of smoke from the village doesn't seem to lessen, an endless winding road that demands she continue to feel helpless for eternity.

Nura sinks her teeth into her lower lip, the pain forcing the tears down. Weakness won't help her find Rephas.

She whips the reins, digs her heels into the horse's flanks, and bounds towards the village, her heart thundering with the gallop of the mare.

The village is frothing with life when she tears into it, the events from the night before hanging in the air.

Nura tugs the reins, the horse spraying dirt as her hooves dig into the ground to come to a sliding stop. Nura leaps from the saddle, winds the reins around a post and rushes into Hearthfire Inn. The conversations within hush with her flustered arrival, all eyes turning to her. Nura nearly runs back to her horse, nearly hides her face as their scrutinising gazes judge every inch of her.

But then she remembers that her husband is missing and she won't rest until he's by her side, safe and well.

"Have any of you seen Rephas?" Nura asks, her tone breathless.

No one answers her right away, the silence thick and rife with a tension that prickles Nura's skin.

"Brave of you to come back here, lass," a man says, his gaze cold as he settles it upon her.

"I just need to find my husband. Please."

"Brave, or stupid," the man continues, not hearing her.

A woman stands, a curl to her lip as she regards Nura. "It was my brother who died at the Harvest Ceremony," she sneers and raises a finger, pointed at Nura. "And it was your name written on him."

"I tried," Nura says, her voice trembling as she's faced with their wrath and sorrow. "I tried to help him."

"It's your fault he's dead!" she screams and Nura flinches, easing back a step.

"Please, I just need to find Rephas."

"And I want my brother."

Tears prick at Nura's eyes as she looks upon the woman, her face twisted, her eyes carrying the loss she shouldn't have to.

Then Nura looks towards the bar where Calla stands, her eyes wide as she watches the scene unfold before her. She opens her mouth when she catches Nura's gaze and gives Nura a silent order; go.

Nura hesitates as she looks back over the faces before her, eager to blame her. Every moment that passes convinces Nura further that she is to blame.

Nura flees. She grips her skirts and pushes through the door, only to stumble upon people blocking the street, having followed her to the inn. Her heart jumps to her throat and she knows that she won't escape this time.

But like a rabbit in a snare, she still fights because she has no other choice.

She darts to the side of the porch and sucks in a deep breath before hurdling over the railing. The drop is small but she stumbles as she lands, pain flashing up her ankle. Shouts echo behind her and she doesn't hesitate anymore. Nura runs, her hands fisted in her skirt to keep herself from tripping on them.