A Mentor's Struggle

Chapter 18

Rowain, unsurprisingly, was the worst imaginable company to travel with. The fidgety youth simply couldn't remain stationary in the saddle and wiggled back and forth like a worm.

"Benedict, how far are we to the first stop?"

"We've hardly left sight of the palace. I do wish you'd pick up the pace so we could make better timing."

"But, I only asked-"

"There's a pond three miles ahead. We'll stop, water the horses and fill our canteens, and there's an inn nearby we can lodge at."

"Thank you." he grumbled.

I smirked at his annoyance and was tempted to start singing pitifully, when I felt a bout of coughing consume my body. Instinctively, my arms curled around my middle in a self embrace. It began with a small wheeze, little blood.

However, things quickly escalated. My stomach constricted tightly and I began to heave violently, blood pouring in a steady stream from my throat. To my immense delight, Rowain was undisturbed as he animatedly shared a most likely far fetched tale.

I noticed his head slowly turning to glance at me and I rushed to wipe my mouth clean of the red liquid smearing my lips. I was honestly amazed he could be so oblivious as I heaved out the contents of my last meal.

It became more difficult to navigate my horse with each passing minute. The pond was only five yards ahead, already in view. Rowain, I could tell, was struggling to keep awake. His injuries were far from severe, but tiring nonetheless.

I was far from acceptable, myself. Nausea clouded my brain and made it gruesome to think, let alone move. I managed to convince Rowain that I was simply exhausted, nothing more.

Despite any previous thoughts of mine, the boy was no simpleton. He knew something was wrong with me, and it became unnerving when his bright blue eyes scanned me with worry. There was no point in fretting over me, I was already a dead man walking.

Rowain, unlike me, has a great destiny to unravel.
We finally halted at the pond, hardly an excuse for a puddle but the horses hydrated themselves to their satisfaction. Although I had it planned to stop at an inn for the night, it was still several hours away. I concluded we would place camp in the woods for the night, it was impossible for me to continue.

Rowain had no objection, simply nodding at me submissively and rushing to get firewood. I immediately set to arranging a pile of stones in a circle as a border for the firewood and layer out both of our bed rolls.

Rowain returned shortly, carrying an amount of wood that more than likely doubled his weight. He collapsed beside me, resting his head on my shoulder in fatigue. I ruffled his hair affectionately before reclining him in a laying position on his designated mat and starting a small flame with the wood.

One the fire reached a considerable size, Rowain supplies me with the supplies I had packed for cooking a simple stew. It was planned for the night after this one, but we would just have to eat at an inn tomorrow night.

Rowain sat at my side as I stirred, staring at me for instruction. Every once in a while I would tell him another step to preparing the stew, but other than that the silence that clouded the air was altogether unsettling. After an extended void of quiet, I took upon the task of initiating conversation.

"Helwyn claimed she was taking care of your mother. Is she ill? It's of no trouble for me to visit her."

Rowain shifted uncomfortably, clearly weary of the topic.
"Nothing to be feared, I'm relieved to admit. She's simply getting on a bit. There is no cure for old age, I regret to inform."