I swear my chapters aren't usually this huge, wow. Umm... hi? This is a new story I've started on called Panacea. It's the story of an herbalist who discovers that there are people after him for some reason he can't yet name. After all, as far as he can tell, he comes from humble beginnings. There should be nothing special about him Anyway, I hope you enjoy!!!
The thundering of a drum echoed in the silence; so achingly loud she almost mistook it for a living thing. It was difficult to smother one’s breathing. Her lips clamped shut against the labored breaths that wanted to snake out. The only thing she could do was keep a watch on the man - her husband - at the window. His face, once soft with affection, was lined with weary lines from all too many years on the run. He eased the blinds back to peer outside, lips peeling back from his teeth in a soundless snarl.
She sat knelt on the ground, arms a vice around the charge in her arms.
“Ma?”
The sound jolted her and against her better judgment, she looked down. A pair of innocent, vivid green eyes stared back at her. Ever since he was a babe she had memorized every inch of his face, including the shades of green his eyes took. The bright sun dappled gold when any and all light hit them. The muddy brown-green when he was angry, as if Mother Nature herself was about to scream her displeasure to the world. And even the way they shimmered when they misted over.
Those very same eyes considered her now, with all the innocence that only a child could muster. It was an expression that had cracked her heart in two multiple times before. After all, this child had no idea. No idea at all about what fate surely had waiting for him. Perhaps her husband was confident in their survival, but she wasn’t.
Even now, she had to bite back the urge to spout everything she wished to tell him. That she was sorry about the responsibility they were pushing onto him. That she was sorry that they probably wouldn’t get to live for him through all of his developmental years.
Life was cruel. They wanted to do what was right by everyone. Oh, how wrong they’d been…
Swallowing against the lump in her throat, she forced a smile and patted down the boy’s locks. “Everything will be okay, love.” Perhaps she had simply told him that lie far too many times before, but his frown deepened. He should have been far too young to understand what any of this meant, but he was just right at that age where he understood that something was wrong. Hoping to distract him she cupped his cheek, “Do you still have that locket me and daddy got you?”
And just like that, his face lit up. His chubby fingers dug hurriedly into his pocket to snatch out the locket and show her.
Her lips twitched as some of the weight vanished from her shoulders. Carefully taking the locket from his outstretched fingers she held it out over his head and allowed the necklace to drift around his neck. “Why don’t you wear it like that from now on?” Even after it settled into place, her fingertips continued to caress the smooth metal of the heart shaped pendant. Her smile became half distracted. “It’s very, very important after all. Right?”
He was beginning to nod when a strangled swear perked their ears. His fingers sank into his mother’s top and twisted around the coarse material. The woman frowned, placing a hand at his back to calm him down, though the rest of her attention shifted to her husband. He was staring back at them, lips pursing. She had only scarcely waited a few seconds before he let it out on a harsh breath.
“They’re rounding up the villagers.”
Sweat began to gather at the nape of her neck but she was already gathering her legs up under her. The soft look she had so briefly given her kid hardened to a knife’s point. “We need to get to the border, fast. Our contact should be waiting for us.”
“We won’t make it on foot,” he hissed, sucking his bottom lip in between his teeth.
He was right. Certainly, they had managed it thus far on their own but their luck was beginning to wear out. Their pursuers cared not who was innocent, only that they were all on the same side. Her focus slid towards the window as she tried to get a glimpse of the villagers from right where she stood. Her heart shuddered at the truth she knew.
Their pursuers were going to make sure that there wasn’t a single person alive to help them. The villagers that had so kindly looked after them with compassion, without judgment… Their lives would end today. Not even trying to help them went against everything she knew.
She and her husband were healers for crying out loud!
But one look at her husband and she knew he was thinking the exact same thing. The quiet sobs from their child took her off guard and her hold tightened before relaxing. Her heart softened immediately as she tried to shush their child. Of course he would start crying just from seeing them talk so seriously.
The man at her side brushed his hands through his hair in agitation, looking from her, to their child, to the door. The wheels were turning in his mind and she wasn’t sure she liked where his brain had run off to. As their child sobbed quietly to himself, she allowed her fingertips to brush against his. “Don’t.” Her voice was a stern huff that stopped him in place. “We need you.”
“I know,” he breathed a soft sigh and gently twined his fingers through their child’s soft locks. The child immediately stopped and turned wide eyes to him, bottom lip trembling as he tried to contain his extreme emotions. The two stared at each other silently when something clicked. “The horses,” he grunted and locked gazes with his wife. “If we can steal a horse from the stables, we may be able to escape before they realize what happened.”
She hesitated, “I…” A hand went to her stomach, trembling. “Do you think I’ll make it?”
“Yes.” His voice was firm, and yet there was a note of desperation that he just couldn’t mask. “I’ll get all three of you there, so just…” A palm pressed against her cheek and he watched her lean into it. “Just a little bit longer, that’s all I ask.”
She searched his face, looking for the slightest inkling that he didn’t include himself in that. Perhaps she had found what she was looking for, because she gave a resolute nod. “Lead the way.”
- - -
The soldiers hadn’t completely made it to their house yet, but they were definitely in sight of their little hovel. Instead of going out the front door; they left by way of the window. The three hesitated at the corner of the house and while her husband peeked around the corner, she couldn’t resist taking a peek herself. The sight she saw before them froze the blood in her veins.
The villagers knelt on the ground in neat rows. A couple of soldiers paced above them, swords glimmering against the lights in the torches. There was only one soldier on a horse, and along with his gleaming armor, he wore the colors of his kingdom. The blood red for conquest, the gold of a basilisk said to turn anyone into stone; and the black of death.
Many of the villagers stared at the ground defiantly, but a majority of them sobbed and shook with fear.
“Where are they!?” This man bellowed out over the crackling fire, turning burning eyes from the villagers to those under him. “We’re not leaving until we find that family.” The man’s lance pointed towards the sky, seeming to challenge the gods itself. There was a sickly pallor to his skin that might make one think he was an agent of death himself. And certainly, the madness that glittered in his gaze might suggest that.
She silently wondered if the only reason he rode that horse around was so that he could look down on those he considered beneath him.
“Curse General Lyon,” her husband hissed in a breath from beside her and she rested a hand on the small of his back. His muscles tensed beneath her touch, winding up for a fight that he would not be jumping into anytime soon. If it had just been him, she knew for certain that he would have gone after that man in a suicidal rage. After all, that man had killed his brother.
General Lyon’s hair glittered copper beneath the firelight. It might have been an entrancing visage to behold if it weren’t for their current situation. The general bared his teeth into a merciless smile and pointed his lance down towards the villager nearest him: an elderly old man with an arched nose. The old man flinched but otherwise didn’t react.
“Perhaps you might tell me,” the general purred, not even bothering to hide his sadistic glee at the old man’s reaction. Though he only allowed himself just that and grew serious in the next instant. “There’s a family of three here. A woman with light brown hair, on the slim side, and dark green eyes. Her husband has ashy blond hair, a light complexion, and gray eyes. Their son looks similar to the mother. I know they were here.” The general’s lance lifted higher, nudging against the elderly man’s neck. A bead of blood shone against his pasty skin.
Like a deer freezing beneath the sight of a bow and arrow, the old man’s eyes flickered from the left to the right. Considering all of his options, calculating whether he could escape or not. And maybe even calculating the survival rate of his friends and family if he left them behind. A weight slumped into his shoulders as he pointed a shaking finger at a house off in the distance. “That’s where they live,” he wheezed.
The general smirked, “I appreciate your truthfulness.”
The old man looked up, the beginnings of a relieved smile leaping across his lips. Only for pain to bloom across his abdomen. His eyes bulged and as he looked down all he could see was red. The red of his blood staining his tunic. Coating the ground like dye and steadily dripping from the weapon that now pierced him through.
That weapon slid free and he swayed, before toppling back. A broken gurgle cut through the silence as he began to drown in his blood. Someone shrieked. Another one called, “Papa!” Sobs began anew as the people shifted unsteadily on the ground as the general shook his lance clean of the man’s lifeblood.
“Your sacrifice will benefit the kingdom.” General Lyon gestured his lance at the house that had been pointed out to them and then ordered his knights, “Search that building and leave no stone unturned! And remember…” His smile was particularly gruesome in that moment, pulling almost unnaturally across his face. “All we need is the cure. If they give that up, then we don’t need their lives.”
A lump was in her throat for their whole journey to the stable. They had left that ghastly scene behind far before the knights had broken into their house. In fact, the last thing she saw as she turned back to watch, was General Lyon cutting down that innocent villager’s life.
And poor Cyne. She hugged the child in her arms tightly. He had been crying so much ever since they left that she feared he would have given them away. Normally she wouldn’t have condoned such an action, but she let her husband put him out with a sleeping draught. His fingers curled into her shirt, in the throws of some dream that only he could possibly understand.
Soldiers scoured the whole village in plain view. The constant threat of being found out thundered in her chest and her lips moved with a prayer. If there were any gods listening to her right now, she prayed that they would give them mercy.
They stopped behind the city hall, trying to contain their harsh breathing. Her arms felt like limp noodles and she took the momentary opportunity to settle their child on her lap and give her arms a much needed break. He was still out and likely would be the whole night. She watched her husband peer around the corner of the city hall, body tensing as harshly as a bow string.
The fear was no longer close at hand. Every action came methodically, from a deep seated place within her that only knew how to act. She knew that she should be afraid, but with the fog laying claim on her brain she didn’t dare to force reason into it.
“The stable is right there. I can’t see anyone guarding it.” Turning away from the corner he held his hands out to her. “I’ll take him, you need a break.”
For a moment she thought about arguing. Call her crazy but she swore that she would break if he wasn’t in her arms. But the distant, more rational part of her brain suggested that she could drop him as tired as her arms were. Her lips pursed but she handed him over with no argument.
Her husband lifted him up into his arms and made sure that he would be comfortable even in his sleep. And she couldn’t resist checking around the corner yet again, but no matter how many seconds ticked by, the stables were devoid of noise, other than the horses.
The secret fear arose that the instant they left their hiding place, soldiers would descend upon them. The mere thought of General Lyon’s merciless gaze falling upon her was almost enough to break the dissociated haze of her mind. Even her husband seemed hesitant to move, watching the path ahead hesitantly. It was deceptively clear, and that awakened paranoid thoughts of what could transpire so close to escape.
Her husband’s arms held their child closer and he breathed in deep of the cool, night air. “Let’s go,” his answer came in a hushed tone.
What could she do but follow him?
As they ran she put a hand comfortingly over her stomach. A kick answered her worry and she had the irrational idea that the child inside her stomach knew of the horrors that still had yet to come.
The stable was devoid of soldiers and stable hands alike, though it was likely that anyone tending to the horses had been forced to the center of the village. She tried not to think about it.
Her husband handed Cyne back to her and she rested back against a barrel, keeping to the shadows as she kept watch. In the background she could hear her husband working, gently and silently saddling up a horse for riding. The horses whinnied and stamped their hooves in agitation, and it took a bribe of oats before one of them would let any work be done to them.
The longer she studied the dirt path leading out of the stables, the more something occurred to her. How odd it was for there to be no guards around this place. You would think that General Lyon would have suspected that this would be their stop, so for him to not assign guards to the stables…
It was no use. She was far too foggy brained to figure out how the puzzle pieces fit together and no shaking her head would have any hope of dispelling it.
The touch at her arm makes her flinch, but his voice calms the raging paranoia in a heartbeat. “It’s time to go.”
She doesn’t waste time. Every second that passes makes her intimately aware that something could go wrong. A black mare stands waiting for them. Her fingertips brush along its neck, stealing just a moment to appreciate the beast in all of its glory. It shook its head, stamping its feet in response. She climbed up onto the saddle and reached out for their son, cradling him against her chest.
Her husband sprang up into the seat beside her, agile despite the exhaustion he was likely experiencing. “Alright, let’s go.” The whisper brushed against the back of her neck as he gently squeezed his legs into the horse’s sides, prompting it to walk.
They were able to leave the stables and head into the forest without being spotted by the soldiers. Within the trees the dark of night closed in around them, becoming claustrophobic. She could almost imagine an armored person appearing from the blackness and leveling a sword at them. This paranoia was not at all helped with the rustling in the greenery around them.
“Damn,” her companion swore from behind her. “I should’ve brought a lantern.”
“Probably for the best,” she muttered solemnly. After all, having a lantern and being on the run would be like having a beacon that said, ‘here I am!’ It might have meant that they were forced to take this journey slower but at least they were hidden.
They traveled through the forest at a snail’s pace, hesitant in their journey. All they really knew was that must keep going straight.
The cold air cut right through her clothes and it suddenly occurred to her: she and her family were forced out of their new homes in little more than their night clothes. Cyne hadn’t complained about it at all but she knew he must have been freezing. As she hugged him tighter she could only silently promise that this journey would soon be over.
A crack shattered the silence, sending her heart into a sharp frenzy. The horse stopped and the pair listened to the silence around them with bated breath. All they could hear was the chirping of crickets, little animals scurrying through the bushes, and the occasional lonely hoot of an owl overhead. But that didn’t change what they heard before; the sound of a branch snapping.
Just when they were starting to relax, blood sprayed across the distance between them. She didn’t have to look at her husband to know that he’d been shot. With a growl he kicked the horse’s sides and forced it into a run. The chilled air whipped her hair around her face and she clutched at their child and the horse for dear life. It was far too dark to see ahead of them and to be frank, she truly wondered how they hadn’t been thrown from the saddle by now.
Turning in her saddle she chanced a glance back and her stomach completely fell through the ground beneath them.
There were three— no, four horses about a couple of dozen paces back. The lanterns that they held illuminated the sleek fur of their horses and the dangerous bows that they wielded. At their head sat General Lyon; the light from his own lantern causing his features to twist, becoming monstrous. Though it was the slight curl of his lips that made her shiver. It looked like a smile.
She prayed for her own sanity that it was merely the fire light distorting his features. The bowmen knocked their bows back and fired. As one of the arrows nearly grazed the horse’s hind legs, she realized the truth: “They’re trying to cripple the horse!”
“I know. Hold on!”
Knowing what was to come next she ducked down, holding onto the horse’s flowing mane tightly. Her husband then nudged the horse to go ever faster, hoping that they could leave the soldiers and their general in the dust. But even she knew that those soldiers had trained war horses underneath their command. Those poor beasts had likely been through a lot of torture in order to stand equal with their masters.
They kept perfect pace.
“If only they didn’t have those damned lanterns,” he cursed underneath his breath.
“We just need to make it to the border. They won’t want to risk the ire of that nation’s King.”
Her husband didn’t have a response for her and over the course of that short chase, he came to rest his weight on her little by little. Though she was concerned there was no helping it. If something was wrong, then she could hardly check him over for wounds in the middle of all this. She certainly tried, casting a worried glance over him. It was simply too dark to tell for certain.
When she looked back again, relief crashed over her to see that they were no longer being chased.
“The house… Ahead, there.” His breathing sounded strangely labored as he pointed a shaking finger at a dilapidated building off in the distance. “That’s where… We’re supposed… To meet… Her…” With each struggle of a word, his voice grew further and further away.
It sent a shock of pure fear through her blood stream and she just knew that something was wrong.
“Are you…?”
His smile was weak as he shook his head. “I can assure you, I’m perfectly fine.”
He did not sound fine. And when their horse trotted in front of the house’s front door, his hands slipped from the reins. A scream stuck in her throat as he hit the ground. It wasn’t the shock of it that made her want to scream. It was the blood coating his back, from the arrows sticking out of him like he was a pincushion. She couldn’t get off the horse fast enough, heart in her throat, tears stinging her eyes.
No. She couldn’t cry. If there was something she could do then she had to do it.
A woman appeared at the front door, surprised and more than a little concerned when she saw a man on the ground. Before the woman could rush forward, she shoved her child into her arms. “Please… Watch him, Adelina.” The use of the name surprised her, but she nodded firmly.
She rushed to the horse to yank out concoction after concoction when a pull on her gown made her pause. Against her better judgment she looked down and swallowed the instinctive reaction. He looked so pale already, the light gradually dimming from his eyes.
“It’s… Already too late.”
She almost dropped what she was holding. Her mouth pressed into a thin line as she demanded, “How long?”
The smile he had for her was apologetic. “Since… The start.”
Her eyes widened. ‘The start’ being the moment the arrows had been loosened. She’d thought that their primary goal was to cripple the horse, sure he had been injured but she didn’t expect it to be this bad. But nothing could have prepared her for what he had to tell her next.
“I suspect it was… Rotroot.”
Everything within her stilled. The more academic part of her brain not already consumed by grief began to list everything she knew about the plant: It’s a plant commonly found around the seat of the empire. It likes humid areas and will choke out and try to kill the plants around it. It can only be planted with other plants that give it competition. These days, you can only find it in the emperor’s own gardens. Highly toxic and highly lethal; once ingested you only have minutes to live. Symptoms include: rapid heartbeat, fierce sweating, immense salivating, nausea, throwing up, blood refusing to clot, but the worst one yet was what the name suggested -- the organs beginning to rot through and shut down.
Some of those she could already see. He wasn’t throwing up yet but he soon would be.
The worst part yet was that there was no known cure for the toxin. The only thing she could do… Was ease his passage into the next life.
She bit her lip against the emotions threatening to assail her. He needed her to be strong, and more than anything else, she didn’t want to send him off with tears. Numbly, she pulled everything she would need from the packs on their horse: a rag, medicine for the pain, and though she knew it was useless, even treated his wounds. She took care of him through it all, gently dabbing at his perpetually sweating face and trying to ignore how hot his skin was. She gave him medicine in preparation for the pain. And when he started to throw up, she gently turned him onto his side, and then dabbed at the vomit lingering on his lips.
She had eased many people’s passage into the next life but none of them would affect her as much as her husband.
….
Adelina had watched through it all but now she gently touched the woman’s shoulder. “Come,” she said firmly, though not without sympathy. “We must get you out of the cold.”
She continued to watch the dead body of her husband. “I need to… Bury him.” Her voice was soft, impassive. Emotionless.
“I’ll do that, so go on in.” It seemed like she was about to argue the point when Adelina sighed and motioned to the front door. “I put your son in bed, I didn’t think he should have to see his father’s lifeless body once he woke. But he might panic once he wakes up and sees that you’re not there, so… Please.” She straightened and muttered, “Your son will need you more than ever.”
That seemed to break through the numb haze. Her eyes sharpened and she nodded. Gathering her things she hurried to move towards the front door, not once looking back. After she had left, Adelina looked at the body on the ground and sighed. “You poor, poor fool. Now look at what you’ve done.” She shook her head, whatever anger she had felt draining from her features.
The moon was big and full above them and she found herself wondering if this would be the end, or the beginning.
After all, those that served the emperor were incredibly ambitious. Just like the man they followed.