A Crow's End (Slow Updates)

⚔️Chapter Five⚔️

Robin's nerves were shot, and he couldn't quite figure out why.

It wasn't that he had nothing to bother him. He had too much. The guards, who hired them, the new prisoner he and Andragoras kept tied up to one of the spare horses. They'd bound Tobias' hands and feet, then strung the rope through the never-ending maze that held each of the four abandoned animals in a line.

It wasn't an escape that pressed on the prince's mind. It was the words. The knowledge of conspiracy.

With any luck, the boy lied.

A though flew through his head. If he'd kept Erik alive a little longer, he or Andragoras could have pulled the information from him, one way or the other. Either his worry would be justified, or non-existent.

Then, the many names Erik spewed forth surfaced, and Robin regretted nothing.

Ahead of him, Andragoras stopped. Robin kept going for a moment to catch up, passing Tobias and the three other empty horses. Rushing water grew louder the closer he came to Andragoras, water he'd been so wrapped up in thoughts he would have missed. A narrow, wooden bridge, clean and slightly damp from the droplets that jumped onto it, covered a section of the river.

Andragoras dismounted and led his horse over to the water, stopping near a sign held up by the bridge's post. Without reading, Robin knew what it said. Unlike the bridge, it was weathered, the painted words faded and chipped from years taking the sun.

Aderyn. The one town King Eudes cared for enough to personally ensure it was spotless.

Robin, still on his horse, came closer to Andragoras, who rolled his shoulders and neck.

"Why did we stop?"

All left was passing the clay houses and cobblestone streets. Barely any time compared to what they'd accomplished since dawn.

Andragoras looked up at him, sun glinting off the top of his helmet. A droplet of sweat rolled down the side of his face as if they weren't surrounded by blankets of snow.

He pulled one arm in front of his body, then the other. "My horse was tired."

Tired, even though they had plenty of breaks before then.

Robin nearly rolled his eyes before remembering what happened the last time he did that. The captain's scolding rivaled the king's physical punishments.

He gave Andragoras a pointed looked as the man twisted his back. "I'm sure."

There was a pop, and Andragoras turned back to him. "Since we are nearing the castle, public image dictates you lead us." He frowned. In a lower voice, he said "Besides, our prisoner has been strangely silent. You may be able to make him speak."

Ah. That again. In the morning when he asked, Robin declined. His brain traveled in too many conflicting directions to speak with a clear mind. His sleep the night before ended with a knife hurling towards his back, and the morning began with cleaning human guts from the same bed he slept on. 

The fires still burned in his nostrils. Three bodies, engulfed in the flames, withered, melted away to bone. No burial. The Kallans' had their obsession with time. The Erakis' held theirs with the dead. 

He turned to Tobias. The boy, guard, prisoner-- whatever he was-- kept his eyes downcast. His head hung low, as if he slept, but they gaze was one of a man who knew far too well what fate he held. His wrists were raw, red, his face pale, stained with dried blood from Andragoras' fists. 

With the look, every thought that vanished with the racing river came flowing back. 

Robin took a breath. That's all they were. Worries.