When I walked to the stables, Endris was still there outside the building. He had put a halter on one of the horses, and tethered the rope to a steel ring screwed into the wall. With long strokes he brushed through the horse's coat. The horse's eyelids drooped, and she looked utterly content with this arrangement.
I walked up to Endris. "Thanks for brushing her, Endris," I said. "You'll make her look pretty for Ytel's men, who will be taking this horse later today."
Endris glanced at me over his shoulder, then returned to his brushing work. "You will bow to Ytel's men that easily? Why not have them prove their claim first with a contract? Anyone can come to you and say you owe them a sum of fifty diamonds."
I drew a breath and expelled it through my mouth. "I know you're more of a wilderness man, so let me explain. If you're not picky about who you steal from or borrow money from, like dear uncle Harold, the richer duped parties will be out for your blood. And at some point it doesn't matter whether you truly owe them. Everyone at the queen's court will believe you do. Ytel isn't a noble but he is a knight with a mostly unblemished reputation. He will more likely be believed than a family of disgraced merchant frauds."
Endris didn't seem impressed. He didn't stop currycombing the horse, nor did he spare me another glance. "Very well," he answered simply. "You are indeed better aware of noble politics than I am."
Letting out a frustrated growl, I started pacing. "Endris, I don't want you to agree with me. Can't you argue like usual?" I asked, only half-joking. "Oleander says he has another way. He claims he can make an antidote to the Bleeding Ivy's sting. But Ytel's men won't buy a fairytale, as Father eloquently put it."
Now, Endris did stop brushing and turned to me. His dark eyes bored into mine. "And what if one of Ytel's men happens to get stung on their way here?"
I blinked, then started laughing. Endris continued staring at me in his usual grave manner, quickly making my laughter die out.
I opened and closed my mouth. "You're serious," I stated. "You want to poison one of them? Right, that will surely make this easier if he dies a gruesomely painful death and we get blamed for that too."
"Or it will prove the antidote works right in front of their eyes," Endris countered.
"We don't know if it does!"
"Give Ytel's men the horses then. You're right about it being the safest solution."
Endris shrugged and went back to work. I balled my fists, then unclenched then. With a sigh, I gave up and walked away. Why did I expect Endris could help me with this decision? At least the horses would be ready when Ytel's men arrived. There was not much else for me to do now but wait.
I went to the front door of the mansion, and that was when my eye fell on movement at the foot of the cliffs. There were men on horses climbing the winding paths. Men with brown clothes with fur lining. I cursed under my breath. It appeared the foreman was making good on his threat immediately, giving us as little time as possible to prepare for their arrival.
I wasn't the only one who had noticed enemies coming. Mother came running outside. She clamped my arm, digging her fingers into the fabric of my shirt.
"They are not above you," she reminded me quietly. "Keep your back straight. You are storm-touched, chosen by the god of thunder."
"I am?" I asked with feigned surprise. "Nobody told me about it in the past two or so minutes."
Mother shot me a stern look, but we didn't have time to bicker. Ytel's men had fast horses and they came galloping onto our land within a few moments. I wished Valda and Gisela were already awake and here. They were much better at bargaining with these kind of men than I was. Unfortunately, in order to ensure their involvement I had to pretend I wasn't home and hide in the house, as we often did. Once they saw me, it was my duty as the heir to meet them and speak with them.
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.
"Oleander!" I called out, gently lowered him to the ground and cradling him in my arms. Oleander breathed hard. His gaze glazed over but he moved his eyes down to his bag. His lips tried to form words, but no sound came out.
"The antidote must be in his bag." Endris, who must've heard the commotion, popped up out of nowhere and knelt down beside me.
"Right."
With trembling fingers, I opened the bag. There was only one item left in the otherwise empty compartments; a single vial holding a watery green paste. I hastily removed the cork and tilted the glass to let the paste glide onto my finger. A stinging sensation spread where my skin touched the strange paste, which would have given me pause in another situation. But here I had no choice, so I smeared it on the wound immediately.
For a moment it seemed like the paste did nothing. Then I noticed Oleander's breathing gradually slowed. The swelling on his neck stayed, but within a few moments Oleander shifted, now able to sit up on his own and support his upper body with his arms.
"It works," he said softly, between heavy breaths. "And it should be worth a lot."
Oleander achieved what I hadn't been able to do today: he made hesitation flicker in the foreman's eyes. It was rather hard to deny an antidote was real if you saw it work in front of you, and it was even harder to deny it would be worth a lot on the market.
Squinting at Oleander, the foreman eventually nodded. "Very well, we would take this," he said, though, I had a feeling he wouldn't bring the antidote to Ytel.
"No, you're getting the horses," I firmly stated, forcing my voice to stay even. "We had already agreed on that. Are you men of your word or not?"
The foreman spat on the ground and narrowed his eyes at me. "The debt is larger than two horses," he reminded me. "I want your most valuable possession."
He wasn't going to let go without a fight, but neither was my family. Being stubborn was how we had survived so far.
Gisela was the one to step in this time. "Nobody will miss a few mercenaries if they don't return to Wildewall," she said. "Except perhaps knight commander Ytel, but I'm sure we can arrange a deal with him after we start selling this antidote. We will have plenty of coin to make him forget about you."
"Take your horses and go. The payments will follow," my father added gruffly.
I was not as quick a thinker as Gisela, who'd already realised we had everything we needed to scare these men away now, but I did understand this was my moment to remind Ytel's men of my mark.
Giving my shirt a firm tug so the upper branches of the mark would show at my collar bones, I stood. The political consequences of slaying a knight's mercenary would be messy, and I was forever leashed by the queen's court, but Ytel's men had to understand I could murder them with no more than a flick of my wrist.
The foreman didn't speak. He didn't openly admit defeat, but only shot us dirty looks while Endris marched to the stables to fetch the two horses. I sat next to Oleander while we waited for his return, just in case anyone got any ideas about kidnapping Oleander for his knowledge.
Only when the clopping of hooves faded into the distance and Ytel's men were truly gone, did any of us dare to breathe.
"I... uh, I'm sorry, I don't think I can walk," Oleander told me softly. "Could you let me lay down for a bit?"
"Of course, let me help you," I replied, carefully lifting Oleander off the ground. "That was beyond reckless!" I scolded him while he rested his head against my chest and closed his eyes.
"Only if you thought the antidote wouldn't work," Endris said.
I didn't respond, nor did I care to stay around and listen to anything else my family or Endris had to say. Oleander needed my attention. I carried him inside and brought him to his room. There, I gently placed him on the bed and took off his shoes.
"Don't worry, I will be fine," Oleander told me. "With the antidote, the poison will no longer spread. I just need a moment to recover."
"And once you do, I will scold you for your recklessness further," I joked, making a small smile appear on Oleander's lips.
"But it worked, did it not?" he argued.
I shook my head, bemused. I couldn't say he was wrong, so I simply walked to the door. "I will get you some water."
When I walked outside, most of my family members were still there. From the words I caught, Conrad, Gisela, and my father were discussing the possibilities of selling the antidote. I didn't want a part in such conversations. We desperately needed a source of income, but this was Oleander's antidote. Only if he agreed to sharing, would I start making plans.
I walked on to the well to get some water for Oleander. When I returned inside with a full bucket, my mother was waiting for me in the lobby.
"Will Oleander recover?" she asked.
"I think so," I said. "He told me the poison won't spread after the antidote is applied." I pointed at the bucket. "I'm just bringing him some water."
"Good." Mother nodded. Then she placed a hand on my shoulder. "I also just wanted to remind you... It's alright to enjoy your life before you fulfilled your duties and marry for political ties."
"Sorry, what?" I asked, genuinely confused.
Mother smiled ruefully. "It's still a better life in a mansion with a man like you, than it is out there for someone like Oleander," she clarified.
I finally caught on where my mother was going with this. My cheeks burned and I cleared my throat. "I suppose it is better for most people to live in the mansion, yes," I said, still pretending I didn't know what she meant.
"... I know you suffer under the weight of your responsibilities." Mother patted my shoulder. "So take your pleasures where you can find them. Oleander wants to stay here and I can see want him here too. We'll ask him to stay willingly, as your friend."
The way my mother emphasised friend almost made me writhe in pure discomfort and embarrassment. I couldn't hide from my mother's gaze either, it appeared. It was not like my family didn't know I wasn't looking at women. We had a silent understanding I'd marry a woman regardless, have children, and have lovers on the side if my wife tolerated it. I'd gladly give her the same privileges.
"Yes, alright, fine. If you don't mind, I have to bring Oleander water now," I stammered. The water in the bucket sloshed as I hurried away from this conversation.
"Do whatever you need to succeed, Laurence," Mother called after me. "History and our family will only remember what you accomplished, not the details of how."