Chapter Twelve! And the Action finally starts to pick up! and at risk of being unorigional. DUN DUN DUN!
And you'll all have to wait until next thursday for the exciting conclusion (to this part of the story)!
The next morning found the King already in the stables by sunrise, Antonio and Francis with him as they prepared to leave for their hunt. "We have bread and fruits for breakfast, our bows and quivers, rope for traps or emergencies...have we forgotten anything, Francis?"
Francis shook his head, "Non, I think we have everything. And-Oh, 'ello Toris, what brings you 'ere?" The blonde asked on a slighlty suspicous tone. The brunette in question raised his hands in defense, and a nervous laugh escaped him, "Please do forgive my intrusion M'Lord, but the Prince instructed me yesterday that he wished for me to accompany you, since you won't bring gaurds. He wanted some one that had to listen to him going." He explained sheepishly, yet stood striaght, only his head bowed slightly in respect.
Any annoyance that Gilbert might have felt was instantly gone when he thought of Ludwig's concern. It was endearing and...oddly comforting to know that the young blonde wanted to be sure that he was safe. With a nod, the albino gestured to one of the stalls. "Choose a mount, then. I should warn you though, that you will have to call me Gilbert if you are to come with us. No titles once we are in the forest. Alright?" he asked with a smirk, fixing the last of his tack. Antonio pulled out a horse for Toris, a young filly with strong legs and a chestnut coat, before he began grabbing what extra things they would need for a fourth companion. "Yes, he is always quite stubborn about that rule. Even the guards must call him by his name when they join his hunting parties. It frustrates them to no end!"
Toris nodded, easily saddling his horse with expert ease of quickness. "Of course, M'lord. Using titles in any large open space without proper protection is allowing for easier Sniper atempts and other enimes to be aware of whose riding." The servant rattled off like second nature before flushing in embarassment, and ducking behind his horse, retightening a saddle back.
Gilbert chuckled as he mounted Vasher, waiting for his friends and his brother's servant to join him. "Do not be embarassed, Toris! I am glad that you are so well-learned in these things. Hearing you talk this way reassures me that you are the one that I wish to protect my most precious treasure." Before long they were all on their way, the horses swiftly picking over the terrain. They would reach the mountains near the Northern border in less than three hours if the fairly easy pace continued. Halfway to their destination, a shadow joined the party, flitting between trees and just out of sight.
Toris checked over his shoulder, thankful he was in the back of the group. He could have sworn he noticed a figure following them. Should he alert the others? Or was it all his paranoid imagination? He was sent by his Prince to help protect the Kingfor any type of danger.
Unfortunatly Toris didn't have a chance to call out a concern as a arrow shot out from the trees, just barely grazing the ears of Toni's horse, and nicking Francis in the arm, before embedding itself in a tree. Francis pulled up, "Gilbert! There's someone in the trees!"
Instantly they were all on alert, Antonio quickly using his reins to wrestle his horse down before it could buck him off as Gilbert drew his sword and Francis moved forward to try to shield him. The albino scanned the trees but didn't see the hidden archer before another arrow was shooting into the group. This one landed just in front of Toris's mount, the young horse rearing. Gilbert realized what was happening - intentionally aiming for the others was a tactic to break the group up and leave him exposed. Before the King could warn his companions a bolt finally hit him, embedding itself in his right shoulder and grating against bone.
Sadiq smiled with twisted satisfaction as his arrows landed just as he wanted, the servants and their horses scattering like mice. It wouldn't hurt to stay and watch for a moment. His eyes were locked on the King as the albino doubled over with a choked-off shout, his fingers cradling the bloody wound before snapping off the shaft of the arrow. The poison lacing the tip wouldn't kill him - not unless he managed to go a good week without treatment. But it would be enough.
Now, for the message...Sadiq moved swiftly before dropping from the trees just in front of the group, face covered by his hood and still holding his bow. Gilbert growled through his pain, glaring at the stranger. "Coward assassin, are you so weak that you would not even face me with honor?" A rough laugh was the royal's answer as Sadiq shouldered his bow. "No, King of the Eastern lands...but your brother certainly fits that description. I have not killed you, or your companions. Heed my warning - Ludwig is a traitor. He was the one that told your enemies that you would ride today, and where. Be wary." With that false advice he was gone again, swallowed by the forest. The poison was enough that Gilbert slumped further onto Vasher's neck before passing out completely. 'Lud...wig...?'
Francis was closest to the king as he grabbed Vasher's reins and steadied him. He carefully manuvered himself onto Vasher, holding Gilbert tight. "We must hurry back! The feather of the arrow says that it is poisened! Forget anything but getting Gilbert somewhere safe!" He called out, kicking against the war horses' sides and riding off, the sound of hoofbeats after him.
Antonio followed after helping Toris steady his own horse, the four of them racing through the thickly wooded forest to reach safety. It was a dangerous risk they were taking - with one false step a root could easily send any of the animals crashing to the ground and nearly did so, Antonio's horse catching its footing at the last moment to the brunette's relief. Finally clearing the trees, the four crashed through the last of the branches with Vasher farthest ahead, Francis still bracing the unconscious King in his saddle. "Francis! My Lisenne is quickest, especially now that Vasher has two riders. I will ride ahead to warn the guards. The medics will be waiting for you to arrive!" Antonio urged his mare faster, quickly overtaking the war horse. They were close now but having even a minute to prepare could mean saving their friend.
Sadiq could not follow the hunting party - not at the speed with which they were able to flee the forest. But he kept pace for a short time, already able to see the changes in the albino from his position above them. The albino would be feverish soon and the particular poison that Sadiq had used was known for plaguing its victims with night terrors. Even if his Highness didn't believe his brother to be responsible for the attack, the lack of sleep and haunting dreams would cause paranoia.
The assassin almost hoped that the group would be unable to save the royal - it would have been amusing to watch him go insane before dying. 'Well, nothing can be done about it now. I have my gold, and the job is finished. Other duties wait for me still...' Finally he turned and sped toward the west, another appointment awaiting his attention.
Toris' throat felt tight, a horrible feeling overcoming him as he rode a bit slowler than the others, so he could keep his hands on Francis' horse he left behind.
When Francis and Toris neared, they could hear the commotion, and the shouts for medics and to clear the way. They both had to reign their horses in harshly, Toris' young filly actually balking to a stop, causing the young gaurd to tumble over her head. He was up again quickly, each hand holding a reign of a tired out horse.
Francis rode up as close as he could to the castle door, quickly jumping off the raging horse, with ease and gently picking up his fallen friend. "Clear the way, you fools! He's been poisoned! We need the medics immediatly!"
Alaric was at the front of the group, eyes wide and obviously shocked. He'd thought that Antonio had just been exaggerating about his grandson's condition. Medics rushed through to their King, quickly directing Francis to take the albino to his rooms with Antonio's help. One of the doctors was immediately examining him, carefully feeling his shoulder wound. "He is not bleeding too heavily, so it must not have hit anything major, but I may have to cut the head of the arrow free." When Gilbert's eyes fluttered open they were glazed and unseeing, the heat of fever making his skin a sickly pale color. Shudders wracked his frame.
Antonio helped Francis strip their friend from the waist up so that his injury could be cared for, only remembering that his lover was wounded as well after they were jostled away by the medics. "Francis, have you been poisoned as well? Do you need a medic?" he asked quietly, looking at the damaged arm.
Francis blinked before looking down at his arm, the cut bleeding sluggishly, but not badly. "Non, I am ok. Only my heart is beating fast in fear for our friend. I think that was the only poisned arrow." The blonde explained, ripping a small part of his sleeve and wrapping it around his arm. "Are you alright Darling?" He asked concered, eyes scanning the tanned servant for any sign of injury.
Antonio nodded, throwing his arms around the blonde's waist and burying his face in his neck. "I was so scared, I-I thought...he came out of nowhere, I didn't hear anything! And then all I could see was Gilbert's sword and Toris being bucked off, and then he was f-falling, the arrow in his..." The brunette whimpered and squeezed his lover.
Francis shushed the younger man holding him tight and pulling the both of them away into a less chaotic corner. "Everything will be fine Darling. Do not worry." He brushed back the light brown hair out of the southner's eyes and kissed his forehead. "I promise, Gil is a fighter."
"I know, love, I know. But nobody has ever tried something like this before! Not with Gilbert, never with him." The tanned man was still shaking lightly, so different from his usual calm and easy-going self. Then again, nobody had done something so blatant before either. The slaves held eachother in that more quiet alcove. They would have to wait for news.
Standing outside of the King's chambers was the young man's grandfather, blankly watching the medics enter and leave the room with bloodied bandages and buckets of hot water. He was sure Ludwig hadn't even been told yet. The older man wasn't even sure that he'd left his bedroom yet after the long ordeal of the night. He reached out to grab a servant's shoulder, noting absently that it was the youngest of the Prince's slaves. "I...do not remember your name. Please, see to it that the King's horses are seen to and stabled. I believe your brother is with them, was with the King during the attack. Go find him.
Ravis nodded, jumping slightly and tried to offer a encouraging smile, "Yes M'Lord. Right away." He nodded, hurring out the back into the courtyard. He found is brother in the stables, two horses tied up and one already in its stable. He was trying to work on untacking Vasher but the war horses always danced out of the way, obviously anxious about his master, knowing something was wrong. "Toris! You're-You're bleeding!" The youngest called out, gripping out his older brother's shirt.
"There, There Lil' Ravis. Its just a scratch from when I tumbled off my horse. I am fine. Shouldn't you be inside helping the King?" He nodded though when the shaking blonde told him of the Advisor's orders.
Eduard forgot himself and barged into the library without permission from his master, breathless and glasses crooked on his nose. "Your Highness! Prince Ludwig, an assassin has attacked your brother; he is just returned to the castle and has been taken to his rooms by the medics!"
Ludwig jolted from his dazed state, looking around in confusion. It took a second for the servants rushed information to sink in. When it did Ludwig didn't even say anything, just shot up and pushed past the glasses wearing servant, racing to his brother's chambers. His heart was racing, 'No,no this can't be happening! I knew it! He should have had protection, something!' He turned the last corner, almost falling and caught sight of his Grandfather. "Granfather! Tell me it's not true!"
The unfocused gaze of the shocked advisor turned to the Prince as he barreled into the hall. There was still no word from the medics, and the severity of the wound was nothing compared to the whispered words he'd heard - poison. "I...I do not know what has happened. There is too much...they have not stopped to tell me any news, and I will not keep them from helping Gilbert to do so." he finally answered. The older man hadn't felt so lost in years.
Ludwig let out a squeak, leaning against the wall and sliding down into a sitting position. "Oh god . . . Why? Why has this happened?" He muttered, his head laying in his hands, tightening thier grip on his hair. "It's not fair."
"No, it is not. But if anything can be done to help the King, it will be done; you know this. He will be fine, my Prince. He will be-" the older blonde's words were cut off by a hoarse scream - clearly Gilbert's - followed by the shouts of the medics withing the room. Suddenly a small group of servants ran from the room, carrying the blood-soaked clothes that they had stripped from the albino. One tripped, the King's own dagger skittering across the floor to stop at Ludwig's feet.
Rather than pick up the treasured possession she quickly followed her companions. They were running back into the room only minutes later with herbs and jars of salve in their overloaded arms.
Ludwig quickly picked up the weapon before his grandfather saw it and hid it behind his back. He stood up, trembling slightly and keeping his back away from the advisor, turned, "I-I cannot be here . . . "He whispered, hurring away before his elder could stop him. Threw the confusion in the halls, he slipped past the commotion into his room and flopped on the bed, curling around on of the pillows, and gently setting the dagger on the other. "Oh Brother . . . You said you were invicible . . . And now your writhing in a pool of your own blood!" He shouted to the air, burring his head into the pillow and screaming.