Unedited.
Chapter Nine. Rot.
The first town we came across was two days later. It was a sore sight on the horizon, a set of dingy shacks along the flat, stiff grass where smaller houses spread out in what was supposed to be farmyards. The poverty seemed to seep into the land and the air around us; there was hunger on the faces of the people who watched us approach which turned to suspiciousness and then hopefulness that we would spend coin in their little town.
Even with the greyness of their world, there was laughter. I had been raised in a gilded cage, with food and money and yet misery sat heavy on my shoulders. Smiles were rare, pulled up only by the rare sight of free beauty that I caught a glimpse of outside the window. These children had barely anything; ratty clothes and shoes with holes on them but they tore through the streets with their shrieks of laughter ringing through the air.
I couldn't help but smile at them as they shouted at our approach. I made sure to dismount Storm, keeping a firm grip on her reins as they swarmed us. I knew some would have nimble fingers to slip into our pockets. What money I had was kept in an inside pocket of my tunic, a thief's trick to ward off other little thieves who knew too little.
I kept my injured shoulder to Storm's side, wincing as it throbbed. It was slow to heal, and the flesh seemed just as ragged and inflamed. I was un-schooled in this, only learning what Beryl had made sure to teach me. He would know; I'd trust his word explicitly.
A leathered ball was kicked across the road in front of us. It was a pitiful and ragged thing, but the toy was beloved to these street children. One older boy who could have only been around nine years inched forward as it rolled towards us. His bravery seemed to vanish when the ball rolled towards Ailbrich's feet. The boy took one look at the looming, warrior male with his dark and watchful eyes and paled.
My attention cut to the male, wondering if he would just ignore them or destroy their toy. Instead Ailbrich stopped his mouth and leaned down, taking the ball into one hand. He examined the pitiful toy that was barely holding together, his mouth pressed into a thin line. There was a look on his face that I couldn't place, like a memory he tried to call back on.
Without saying anything, he threw it back to the boy who had been brave enough to approach the strangers. The young boy caught it, eyeing Ailbrich carefully as we continued past.
"What is the name of this town?" Dara asked, examining the ramshackle houses.
From experience, I knew that the richer members of the village would live further back. It was so they wouldn't have to mix with the commoners, but in times of raids and pillages, the poorer people would be swept over first by the brigands seeking the gold of the rich; rich people who would have been warned in time and could escape with their precious gold.
I kept an eye on my surroundings as I approached. On the small baker's shop where the smell of freshly baking bread wafted through an open window. To the tiny boy with a gaunt face who stared longing at it, holding his cap in his hands. Dark curls were plastered to his head, his lip pursed but he knew no amount of staring would ever make the baker give him a cupcake. His family probably struggled to buy bread, never mind a treat for the boy.
Chest clenching, I forced myself to keep walking.
"It's called Homley." The Lycan looked around with the same strange look that Ailbrich had, had on his face. "This area and beyond was subject to two consecutive years of bad crops. The former mayor stockpiled the food when it got low, issuing writs that forced the peasants to give him their own. Many died of starvation, but word never reached the King. People rarely use this road, and these are not trading parts. The Mayor would not let the people's plight leave the village until those who escaped managed to get word to the castle."
Anger stirred like hot coals inside of me as I imagined these people starving and the mayor sitting fat and greedy in his house. I looked forward, trying to see if could spot what would be the mayor's house. I was a stranger to them now and any action against the mayor would fall on us, but once I got to my brothers and explained to them what this man did, I knew that all of them would agree that he needed to be removed.
"What happened to the Mayor? Is he still living here?" I asked tightly.
The Lycan turned to me, anger creasing that strong face. "Ailbrich and I paid him a visit."
Fangs bared, his form tense; I knew that visit had been a bloody one.
"I should hope that the new mayor is better." I told him.
The Lycan dipped his chin. "The Crown Prince implemented a plan to pump money back into this region. Should this region fall to extreme poverty, then the rest of the country might follow. The new Mayor whose been appointed has worked wonders. If you think Homely is bad now, then imagine what it had been like five years ago."
"It can take a long time to fix something that has been damaged," I murmured.
Silence crept in, four pairs of eyes turning to me. Fixing a brazen smile, I turned back to the Lycan. "At least your Crown Prince has his head in the right place. I guess being raised in the comfortable bubble of the castle hasn't blinded him to what life is truly like for his people."
"Oh, he has much to learn, little thief." The Lycan turned away again and I let both him and Ailbrich lead me further into the village.
Every so often, my shoulder pulsed viciously and each time I nearly let out a breath of pain as the shock of it ripped through my system. I hadn't looked at it in nearly a day, save for cleaning it out and applying some torn pieces of cloth. I needed supplies in this village.
I kept silent as we trudged towards the small inn. The sign swung loudly in the wind, a creak sounding with every fall of my foot. The noise was loud, pulsing and I wondered if I should have felt this fuzzy inside. I didn't get sick; there was no reason for me even. Now.
Blearily I noted that someone took Storm from me. Not a thief, but a small human who scampered away towards a stables. A broad hand pressed against my lower back, a scorch to his touch that made me wince and skitter away. Cyan eyes flashed towards me and I saw nothing only those eyes; his face was blurred but his eyes gleamed like the demons I imagine that wanted to drag me into the pits of hell for what I had done in my life.
I ignored whatever he said to me, somehow managing to get inside the inn. In here, the air seemed stifling even though behind me, I could feel the breeze wafting inwards. The smell of candles sweat and the dinner they were cooking seemed to assault. I lingered at the back and waited until rooms were paid for.
I didn't expect to get my own room and even though Dara was sharing with me, I crashed onto the narrow frame immediately. It was tough and hard against my sweating skin, but I let out a sigh as the world stopped spinning. Dara said something to me about getting a drink before she left, but I was gone, dragged into a strange sleep where the world pounded heavily with every struggling beat of my heart.
∦
I was woken by the sound of frantic shouting.
Water sloshed in the background before hands grabbed my shoulder and hauled me up into a sitting position. The world spun as I tried to get my bearings, blinking at the Lycan who was talking to me in a rush. Large hands kept me sitting up; my spine felt weak and my body sagged even as he held me up. The others were in the room, the two other men hauling in a large tub of water.
Dara's hands replaced the Lycan's and she gently pried my tunic off. A rumbling noise filled the room, and both men left. The Lycan stayed but I felt nothing about that; my mind was too confused to stay on any thought for more than a few seconds.
She pulled back the bandage, and even I jerked at the rancid smell trapped beneath it. The wound had gone dark, small black lines creeping outwards while puss oozed from it.
"Draxi blood is poisonous to humans." Dara glanced back at the Lycan. "How did she get it in her wound?"
The Lycan stood over me. Again, I couldn't see his face. Only those eyes burning as they swept over me, before he put the back of his fingers to my forehead. The touch was remarkably soft and gentle, a sigh against my skin when men had always been so rough before.
"It's my fault." Swiftly he slid an arm beneath my shoulders and knees to haul me up into his arms. In my feverish mind, there was something primal about being so close to him. To hear the rough, panicked thudding of his heart through the fabric of his tunic and the layers of flesh.
I turned my nose to his chest, my head sagging as I wondered for a brief moment why he was so afraid. Was there a monster hunting us again? An unseen foe in the room with us?
"I'm tired." I croaked. "I want Seren."
"Seren?" The Lycan hummed quietly, bringing me over to the bath. "Who is she?"
"She..." I thought of her silhouetted against the sky and a deep longing thrummed through my feverish brain. "Why isn't she here?"
"We'll find her Lilia. Don't you worry." He told me gently as he began to lower me into the water of the bath. I could see what looked like chunks of ice floating in it, but when my skin touched against the water, I felt it sizzle against my skin. I jolted up into the Lycan's chest, my fingers curling in his tunic.
"No. No. It's hot."
His hands clenched tighter, a whine sounding through his teeth. "It's freezing cold water, Lilia."
Dara only watched, her expression pinched as he tried to lower me again. I felt only the heat of the water and jerked violently. It was like the water had a fire beneath it and he was trying to cook me.
"The poison will trick her. Its effects are slowed by freezing water, but it will trick her mind in an attempt to stop her from healing herself. She will be in immense pain."
"Shite." The Lycan growled. Cyan eyes flashed down to me, and I stared back blearily. He looked over me for a long moment, before that thick jaw clenched. He let me down into the tub and I shrieked, arching before I tried to scramble out of the water that felt like it was melting my skin from my bones. A broad hand pushed down at my shoulder, the other cradling my head to I wouldn't smash it against the rim of the tin-tub as I jerked and spasmed.
I felt nothing only fire. Like it was licking my skin, peeling back my skin as it burnt through scarred flesh. I screamed and thrashed against the Lycan's hold. Water sloshed over the rim of the tub, and the Lycan's fingers on my shoulder were now the only cool touch.
"No!"
I snapped at him, fingers digging into his wrists as the water sizzled against my skin. My mind balked at it all, my muscles spasming until the Lycan's tunic was drenched, his eyes solemn but determined. Then I felt slim fingers at my jaw, prying it open.
I bite at Dara's fingers as she pushed the rim of a bowl to my lips. A liquid sloshed inside of it, filled with wriggling maggots and worms. They were forcing my mouth open, tipping the vile liquid into my mouth. Someone pinched my nose while someone else, a blurry figure of ash and smoke forced my jaw shut until I had no other option but to swallow.
I fought of course; against the hands holding me in the water. Against the liquid they were forcing down my throat, but my mind was slow, my limbs heavy with something malicious tracking through me. Through the pain, sobs wretched my chest and when a hand went to brush against my cheek in comfort, cooing something that was meant to soothe me, I snapped them with my teeth.
"I want Seren." I turned away from any attempt at comfort, longing for Seren's touch in my mind.
The Lycan knelt by the tub when my strength waned. He kept my head above water but let my arms sink into the water. I knew I would gladly drown without him holding me up.
"Is she a friend of yours?" He asked me. Long fingers were knotted in my hair.
Chest heaving, I glanced at him. He was a passing thought, a concern that was not mine. Gently, hesitantly, he reached for me. Arms heavy but weak, I only snapped at him with my teeth again.
I may not have had the maw of a Lycan, but I could still bite.
∦
There was a man singing in my room.
Not the rough warble of Beryl's night-time tunes that we danced and drank to around the fire. It was the rough rasp of a Lycan's voice, soft and uncaring through the room. As my gritty eyes peeled open, I found that I was in a different room. It was ornate, yet moderately sized for the design. I was tucked in furs like a new-born child, carefully placed among mounds of cushions like I were some glass flower that would shatter at a rough touch.
To my right, a great fire burned in the hearth and the warmth of it seemed to sink through my furs and into my skin. Fire and water always reminded me of Seren. Fire, because she could roast a man alive with it and water because she and I loved it so much.
I turned my head slowly, teeth gritting against the pounding in my shoulder. I took in the long, broad form of the Lycan sitting on a small wooden chair that faced the window. He had my tunic in his large hands and was attempting to sow the patches that had been torn in it. He sang while he worked, low and warm as if he did it every-time he worked with his hands.
I wondered if he would sing if he knew I was listening to him.
For a long while I lay there silently, my throat dry and my shoulder throbbing but content to just watch this strange Lycan male pull a needle and thread through my tunic. He always seemed to be going well before he would jab himself in the finger and curse lowly before continuing on again, his singing picking up gently again.
"Do you even know how to sow, Lycan?" I asked eventually.
To his credit, he didn't startle at the sound of my voice. His movements were slow, controlled as he turned to me and set down his little project. That singing stopped as I thought it would and he watched me for a long moment. Those eyes swept over me, from my upper torso nestled in pillows and to my lower body encased in furs.
"My mother thought I should be taught all kinds of useful skills. A man should be able to wield a sword and he should be able to sew up the clothes he tore too."
"You did not tear those clothes, I did."
Something strange happened then. The Lycan's face flushed, his eyes dropping to the tunic. "Ah well, I -ehm- needed to preoccupy myself."
"If its an attempt to pay me back for saving your life in the cells, then you've picked a good payment. I am useless at sewing anything." I graced him with what was Lilia Merek's attempt at a soft smile. "Your mother sounds like a smart woman."
He dipped his head in acknowledgement at that. Examining the room around me, I noted that the Lycan pulled his chair closer to the bed. This was not the inn we had been housed in; everything screamed of decadent wealth displayed with an arrogance that I loathed. Gold plated vines on the walls, thick hanging curtains surrounding the bed while the floors were layered in plush carpets least the occupier touch cold wood in the morning. Imagine how horrendous that would be for them.
There was a table on the other side of me, laden with cloth and medicine. Someone had dressed me in a thick white night-gown that draped all the way down to my ankles and had taken the time to clean me.
Throat tight, I asked. "Who cleaned me?"
"Won't you ask where you are?" His chair was right beside the bed now, his presence a pulsating awareness at the centre of my chest.
"This is a wealthy house. It could be a merchant, though I doubt it for this isn't a trading road or it's the mayors house. Now, who cleaned me?" I met his gaze head-on. There was a prickle down my neck, demanding that I dip my head in acknowledgement to the Lycan, but I was trembling, wondering if he had seen the stains upon my skin. Had they laughed at what I was?
"One of the serving girls began, but Dara took over. I did not look at your naked body, Lilia." A look swept over me and he moved to say something else, before his jaw snapped shut and he looked away. Used to the tantrums of my brothers, I waited until he turned back to me. "I am the reason you got ill."
"There are easier ways to kill someone, Lycan." I told him frankly. "Poison is slow, and frankly boring. I prefer the blade and if I could turn into a great hairy beast to rip someone's belly open, then I would."
His brow pinched. "The blood of the Draxi was on my mouth. It is not poisonous to my kind, but I got it onto your wound. I wasn't thinking – you...you could have died."
"How long was I unconscious?" I asked him.
"A week. You have periods of lucidness just like this, and then you're caught in the fever. You could slip back any moment."
I frowned at him. "That is seven days wasted, Lycan. Strap me to the horse- we could have been seven days closer to Leishe by now."
A snarl rasped in the Lycan's throat, his fingers curling on the blankets. "I am not tying you to the back of a horse when you're ill, Lilia. You will rest and recover until you are better."
"Is that so?" I asked softly. Propping myself up further, I ignored the rasp of his snarl at my efforts and swatted away the hand that tried to help me up. "You're insufferable, do you know that Lycan? Always trying to help. Always worrying and watching."
"I can't help but worry about you, little thief."
His words were strange, his look even stranger and it made me balk as my stomach stirred and a primal instinct flashed deep and violent. "Is it because of my beauty, or my wit?"
"No," The corners of his mouth curled into a short, feral smile at my tone. "It's because I'm learning that you tend to do whatever you wish, whether its wise or not."
I had a response for that, but then I noticed that the vines along the walls were forming into snakes and Seren wandered into the room, shaped like a human plated with brilliant blue-hued scales. Her forked tongue flicked out of little square teeth and she sat on the other side of the Lycan, tilting my chin to face her.
"Beware of the wolf who stares too long. A Lycan focuses only on one thing. Prey."
And I was lost to the visions of the poison, watching a great Lycan hunting a young woman again and again only to sink long fangs into her already scarred neck. And she laughed.
And ran again.
∦