Page 7 of Bloom

Hunting was fun, although Aleric didn’t feel like going. He also didn’t feel like getting up at four in the morning. The servant had banged on the door to the sitting room, and Jaime had to knock on the bedroom door to make sure he was up.

Forcing his eyes to stay open, Aleric stared at the dark. He wanted to nestle under his clean blanket and go back to sleep. Fuck hunting. If he didn’t get up, Father would soon be coming to see where he was. Aleric had tried to get out of it a few days ago, and Father had nagged him.

“It’ll be fun,” he muttered.

He wasn’t the one who had to worry about them both. Aleric couldn’t even hang around Father too much or stick by him when they went out. He’d seem clingy, and while his dislike of Gautier was clear, he couldn’t be open about the actual reason. Showing that he suspected another event might happen wasn’t a good idea even though nobody knew what it was. They already talked shit about him.

Aleric had tried to tell Father who hadn’t believed him. He knew no one else would either. It was pointless to try.

Besides that crap darkening his life, he didn’t want to be forced to spend time with Jaime. The remainder of the previous day had been awkward enough with barely a word between them, and Aleric didn’t feel like having to spend hours around him.

Yesterday had rattled him so much, he was pretty sure that was why he’d had to run to a privy downstairs after returning from the city. Normally, he didn’t get an upset stomach from nerves or worrying.

He didn’t beg to be fucked anymore. But there he’d been, ass up and presenting himself like a slut. He had needed the sex to cure the fever, and a part of him was grateful Jaime had taken care of him. A few hours of the terrible stabbing through him along with the cramping was unthinkable.

Sitting up, he tapped the lantern and squinted at the light. For several moments, he imagined asking Jaime if they could change things. He would be paid like a whore again, but he’d get to fuck Aleric instead of just one-sided blowjobs. Why not? They’d already done it, and Jaime couldn’t whine about not being able to get off, so they’d both have their needs met. He’d been more than satisfactory the day before, and despite Aleric behaving like a rabid animal, Jaime had been gentle instead of immediately ramming himself like he couldn’t wait to get off.

His face burned. No. Absolutely not. He couldn’t think like a horny man who wants to jump into bed with the nearest attractive man. What the fuck was wrong with him? After a few screws, he’d be tempted to ask Jaime to do other things to him, like tying him up or spanking him so he could have that urge satisfied too. He might as well hand over all of the control on a silver platter with a sign that said, “take advantage of me.”

He dragged himself out of bed and headed for the privy room while trying to tell himself he hadn’t broken his rule either. Not really. It had been an emergency situation. It wasn’t like he’d been stupid enough to fall for anyone and hand himself over.

It wasn’t the same, and his rule wasn’t broken. He didn’t have to worry about going down the slippery slope because he was in control. No one else would ever have true control over him in bed again. He repeated that to himself a few more times while he washed, dressed, and tried not to think about how fucking good it had been to finally have his ass bred, and his hair grabbed. Or how good it had felt to have a big, muscular man against him with his tongue in Aleric’s mouth.

He couldn’t let himself think of that, or he’d be fucking himself with his new toy later and fantasizing about the man in the next room. That would lead to him wanting the actual man. Thank Elira he had those tabs so he didn’t have to worry about pushing out Jaime’s baby in nine months. He used to want children, but he couldn’t see it happening anymore.

He’d bought a new toy in the city yesterday afternoon. When he’d finally dragged himself upstairs to get Jaime for dinner with the toy hidden under his coat, he’d gone to his bedroom to hide it. Tonight, after triple-checking that his bedroom door was locked, he’d take care of himself to calm down his libido, and he’d force himself to forget about yesterday. He also wouldn’t allow himself to picture Jaime naked even though the pleasing image was burned into his memory.

From a small box he took from his chest of drawers, he pulled out a necklace. He didn’t wear much jewelry, but sometimes he liked to wear a necklace of Mother’s. The little gold rose on a fine chain had been a gift from Father a few months before she’d become pregnant with the twins.

“A rose for my Pearl.”

Aleric had to use the looking glass in the privy to see the clasp and secure it. Once he tucked it in his shirt to keep it safe, he sighed at his reflection. Mother would roll over in her grave outback if she knew what her only surviving child was dealing with. It was almost a mercy she’d died. She didn’t have to know.

Or things would have been different overall with her alive. At least she hadn’t had to watch the twins wither. Aleric, so young back then, still remembered thinking they’d grow big and plump like other babies he’d seen. There hadn’t been any hope for them.

His anger flared right back up when he entered the sitting room to find Jaime asleep on the couch with the blanket on the floor. He was supposed to be awake, not snoring. Aleric tightened his jaw and came around the couch. Even with looser sleep pants, Jaime’s morning wood was beyond obvious.

Aleric was not going to think about how he’d like to get on his knees and do the sucking off for a change. It had been years since he’d enjoyed that pleasure. His favorite way to do it was while his hands were tied behind his back so the other could grab his hair, have complete control, and force his head down if they wanted. Deepthroating was no issue for him. He absolutely loved pleasing the other with his mouth, and the degradation aspect was even better if they came on his face and called him a slut.

Damn it. Jaime would laugh at him if he knew how much of a submissive bottom Aleric truly was inside, and the thought infuriated him further.

“Why are you asleep?” He kicked the couch. “Get your ass up!”

Jaime jumped. “What the fuck?”

“We’re going hunting. I told you this.”

Jaime blinked at him. “Do I have to go?”

Aleric wished he could leave him behind to get away from the source of his tangled thoughts. It was his fault Aleric was having thoughts he shouldn’t. Still, it was better to have him around as a deterrent. Better than nothing.

“Yes, you have to go. Now get up, or I’ll drag you off the couch.”

“Fuuuck.” Jaime rubbed his eyes as he sat up.

“Lose the attitude.”

Aleric caught Jaime’s glare as he headed for his bedroom. “I don’t have to like getting up so early.”

When Aleric met Father in the yard, he acted normal just like he had at dinner the night before. He’d rather stick his head in a privy than admit to Father that he’d gotten heat fever and had to be cured by his new aid’s cock. Oh, and he’d gotten the fever because his new aid had busted in while he was fucking himself with a toy, and in a fit of anger, he’d thrown the phallus.

Thankfully, Jaime was quiet when they left, although he still appeared a bit grumpy. He wasn't the only one since a few courtiers who were coming along also didn’t like the getting up early part. Egg buns had been passed out to those who wanted a quick and easy snack.

Aleric ate his while they rode, and a couple of guards led the way with large crystal lanterns. Everyone else had lanterns hooked on their saddles, and they left C?te at a steady pace. Zacharie was somewhere ahead with his Lord Gautier, and Jaime kept his borrowed horse a little behind Aleric’s.

Specks of light in the city from other early risers faded in the distance. As the cool night air helped everyone to wake up, talk grew a little. Aleric kept to himself. Elira knew what thoughts Jaime had. He’d probably be stroking himself later while imagining Aleric showing his wet hole and begging to be fucked like a slut.

Aleric didn’t want to die, but if the ground opened up and swallowed him, he wouldn’t complain too much.

Once the sun fully came over the horizon, and they could see the road better and watch for obstacles, they rode faster. It helped to distract Aleric. He remembered Father had taken him hunting once several months after the twins died. It had been just them two. Back then, Father had listened to him and didn’t say he was overreacting or a liar about anything. Zacharie hadn’t been alive to call him a disgusting, jealous pig either or run to tattle to Father and twist everything.

Gautier had come around occasionally to visit, but he’d mostly been another courtier to Aleric back then.

Mother and the twins' passing had been like a knife, but at least he’d felt like he had a proper Father who would always be there for him no matter what. He’d been safe, and so had Father. He’d known sickness could take people away, but he’d never thought about a person attempting to murder him.

Beyond Father smacking his bottom one time for pushing Clementine when they were three, he also never thought anyone would hit to truly hurt him.

Servants and a couple of stablemen had left the morning before to head to a certain spot and wait. When the hunting party arrived in the large clearing, they’d already made fires and were cooking a proper breakfast. Tents had been set up, and horses were taken to be cared for. Andy, a newer stableboy with a face full of freckles, took Mighty. Someone said the hares and rabbits had been plentiful that year, so they’d likely catch a feast, and a few of the men started betting on who could first catch a jackrabbit.

The area was heavily wooded, and there was a town not too far if one was willing to take a decent ride. The citizens in the area were permitted to hunt, and Father had permission from the local lord who didn’t care who hunted there.

He stepped into a wide, open tent intended for the Monets and stretched. Jaime followed, looking unsure of himself. “What am I supposed to do? Resaddle your horse? Hold the rabbits you catch?”

“No. She needs a few days to get to know you, so the stableboy can do it.” He’d been there for about a month. Mighty had barely seen Jaime at all, and she’d fuss if he tried to saddle her. “If I need anything, I’ll say so, and I carry my own kills. For the most part, I don’t care what you do when we go. Stay here, hunt rabbits, take a walk-whatever. I’d be careful if you go alone out there.”

“Panthers?”

Aleric sat in a chair by the mouth of the tent to be out of the sun. “No. Other people hunt in this area too since the game is plentiful, although it’s mostly rabbits. Someone took an arrow to the eye a few years ago by accident.”

Jaime winced.

“Hunting can be dangerous.” Aleric shrugged.

Lord Gautier would love it if Aleric accidentally took an arrow or several and fell over dead. One down, one to go. Aleric was more concerned with poison. About a month ago, they’d had a party after dinner in the Hall one evening, and he hadn’t been watching his drink. Thank Elira for Father coming along at the right time.

He’d suspected the truth when Gautier and Zacharie got together. He’d already taken steps to be careful such as locking his doors, and he was careful about his food. After last month’s incident, he’d known it was only a matter of time before Gautier tried again.

He held back a sigh as he watched servants cook eggs over an open fire without really seeing them. Again and again, he wanted to share every single concern with Father and have him listen without hearing that he was lying and needed to stop being jealous of his little brother. He wasn’t fucking jealous, and he wouldn’t make up a lie like that either.

He was in a corner, and he wasn’t sure how to get out.

“Aleric?” asked Jaime.

He narrowed his eyes at the casual use of his first name. Jaime certainly didn’t care about titles, and he dressed so neatly, one would almost think he imagined himself a lord too. “What?” Jaime must have said something already, and he hadn’t been paying attention.

“Am I allowed to hunt?”

“We have extra bows. Are you good at archery?”

“Not really, but I’ll give it a try with a spear since it’s rabbits. I wouldn’t if we were hunting boar. Those are mean bastards.” Jaime gave him a quick look up and down, and Aleric’s face burned.

It didn’t help that his aid looked damn good in his basic linen shirt and vest. He’d left off a coat like Aleric and some of the other men. The vest, perfectly laced down the sides, was snug in all of the right places, and he could picture Jaime’s broad, muscled chest under it which threatened further thoughts. He was never going to forget what Jaime looked like naked with his erect cock sticking out. And how it had felt to be fucked by him. Damn it. “Well? What?”

Jaime hesitated. “Um, are you sure you’re okay? No lasting effects from, er, yesterday?”

“I’m fine,” Aleric snapped before looking away.

“I’m just checking,” Jaime mumbled.

Like he cared that much. Why did he have to bring it up? If they weren’t in a camp surrounded by others…suddenly, all he could think about was Jaime bending him over the nearby table. How could he have gotten off yesterday and still crave to be fucked again so badly?

Father was a welcome distraction since he came to the tent and complained about his knees. It wasn’t long before the servants gave them breakfast. Aleric ate lightly since he never liked a full stomach before hunting. Thankfully, Gautier didn’t join them and was sitting with Zacharie and a few of the other courtiers outside even though it was quite warm for May.

When he came out, Zacharie was practically in Gautier’s lap. He was surprised they didn’t ride the same horse too.

When they finally were ready to go, a few groups split off. Others made bets on who’d get the biggest rabbit. A lady said bigger isn’t always better which earned laughter and a few ribald remarks. Gautier went with Father, Zacharie, and a few others. Aleric watched them go as Mighty was led to him by the stableboy.

It’d be smart to get rid of the oldest son first and save the lord for much later, and Gautier was clearly willing to bide his time. That’s why he hadn’t killed Aleric that one night years ago, and he’d waited years to do anything despite Aleric growing suspicious long before.

He still hated seeing Father ride off with Gautier while being so damn clueless. Jaime got a courtier talking and followed him into the woods after Lord Monet and his group. Aleric lagged behind with a few others.

“I wish we were hunting something more interesting,” said an older man who was a distant cousin by marriage. “Rabbits are so boring. It’s hardly a challenge.”

“Then it should be easier to catch more than me. Maybe today is the day you’ll finally win against me.” His wife nudged her horse into a trot. “Try to keep up, dearie. I’m planning to kill at least a dozen.”

“But I like letting you win, honey.”

“Pfft.”

Aleric had never liked those two. They probably thought Aleric had beaten his wife and made her run away. The few nasty looks he’d caught from them said enough. He’d also heard his name once when he entered a sitting room, and they’d both hastily hushed. Damn gossipers.

He broke away to head west, and nobody said anything. He often went off alone to hunt for a while before rejoining the others. Not this time. Once he was out of sight of everyone, and he couldn’t hear anything except birds and the occasional breeze filtering through the branches above, he shifted Mighty to arc back toward the clearing. He’d go back to camp where it was only servants now. They’d likely ask if anything was wrong, and he’d say he wasn’t feeling well.

They’d fuss and apologize, thinking breakfast wasn’t agreeing with him, and he’d tell them not to worry. His stomach had been a little off before leaving this morning, so it wasn’t their fault. If he said he wanted to sit in peace, they’d leave him be.

In a group with many eyes, it was less likely he’d have an “accident.” Accidents aren’t always easy to set up, and they might not turn out as intended. Still, he wasn’t taking chances. He didn’t fully trust servants either, but it was a little less likely any of them would physically attempt to harm him. Most were women, and while a woman can certainly fight, Aleric was pretty sure he was better-trained with a sword than any of them.

He had his waterskin, and he’d drink from that. He could also refill it himself since poisoning the water barrels the servants had brought would make everyone sick. Gautier wouldn’t be stupid enough to kill half of the hunting party and possibly his ticket to being a lord again: Zacharie.

He paused Mighty who shifted uneasily and wondered if he was being too careful. Maybe he should join the main group and try to have a little fun. It would be hard to kill him around others. Stray arrows and such could be written off as an accident, but it’d also be hard to “accidentally” and fatally shoot the lord’s son with an arrow. It would require instant death since the physician had come along. Aleric didn’t trust Olivier one bit since he’d have access to poisons and the knowledge of how to use them, but if anyone was physically injured, it didn’t matter if he was on Gautier’s side. He’d have no choice but to use his healing magic on them.

No, Aleric would return and play it safe. If he told Father he wasn’t feeling well, he’d fuss and offer for him to head back with a guard, which Aleric would reject. He was just well enough to return with the group as a whole, but not well enough to chase bunnies around. Now that the few guards he trusted were retired, he didn’t want to be alone with any of the others.

Quite a few were likely trustworthy. That was the problem. Likely. Gautier had friends, and it was impossible to know who he’d spoken to or who he’d gotten on his side. He’d had years to work his way into the good graces of many, and Aleric wasn’t about to travel for hours with a few who’d been potentially paid off. He’d only trusted the retired ones to a degree because they’d been there for so long and were the sort of men who’d probably have a stroke at the idea of betraying Lord Monet.

He hadn’t gotten far when Mighty started acting off and tossing her head. A few gentle words didn’t help, and when he stopped her, she let out a loud whinny and backed up a step.

“What’s wrong?”

He didn’t see a snake or anything else that would scare her. Mighty was quite a good girl with her placid disposition, and she liked to run. Chasing bunnies was a game to her. While she wasn’t a warhorse, she didn’t easily spook.

Besides a light sweat from the heat of the day, she seemed fine except for her uneasiness. After a good look around, he still couldn’t see anything frightening to a horse. He spotted a bright purple and yellow theybug crawling on a fallen leaf. Bugs never scared her.

“What’s wrong, girl? Do you want to go back too?”

At camp, he’d get her settled before heading to the tent to rest, although he’d keep his ears and eyes open. Gautier certainly wouldn’t go back to look for him and try to murder him with a bunch of servants around. After a few hours of nothing to do, she’d likely be fine when they returned home.

“Come on, girl.” Aleric tried to nudge her into a walk again. Perhaps she was picking up on his nerves.

Mighty suddenly bucked, and he tightened his legs as he clung on. His teeth clacked together when her back legs hit the ground, and she danced sideways.

“Whoa-settle down, girl.”

Mighty huffed. He slid down and stayed to the side with a hold of her bridle in case she decided to rear or make a run for it. Her eyes were wide, and she tossed her head.

“What has gotten into you?”

He had the sudden thought that something might have been given to her to cause panic. If he lost control of his horse in the woods and was thrown…oops. Then again, he might survive. Still, why not try?

“We’ll walk back together, girl.” He gently pulled on her bridle to guide her around, and her sides heaved as she appeared to ease a little. Leading her back would likely be easier than riding her. “I’ll take care of you myself and let you have a good roll in the grass.”

Hopefully, whatever it was would wear off. What if she was truly ill from a poison and died? It’d be his fault because he was the target, and she was only the pawn in certain people’s eyes.

“We’ll both rest.” He kept his voice light and soothing. Letting his agitation come through wouldn’t help her.

If she had been poisoned, that meant the stableboy had been paid off. What was his name? Andy? Aleric was pretty sure he’d heard one of the stablemen call him Andy. The little fucking shit. If anything was wrong with Mighty, and he’d done it, Aleric would wring his neck.

He paused for a moment, noticing something. He couldn’t hear anyone else nearby, and a few birds not too far had been chirping. The sudden silence was unnerving with only him and the horse there. It shouldn’t be that quiet, and he looked around.

Something moved to his right. Far off in the trees, he caught flashes of brown. Horses. The bits of grey he caught had to be the rider’s clothing. Three horses were approaching from roughly the same direction of the camp. He couldn’t make out much with the distance, and too many bushes and branches were obscuring them.

The courtiers always dressed in clothes appropriate for riding and rough activity when they went hunting, but they were still nicer and often bright in color. None had been wearing dark grey. When he got a glimpse of what he was sure was a man’s head, it was all grey with a dark spot where the face would be.

His hood was up. Lord Gautier knew Aleric liked to go off on his own. He might not have planned on him returning to camp so fast, and a lone man can become the hunted.

Paid-off mercenaries can also easily alter their plan a little, and they’d snuck by everyone else, skirted camp, and started searching. Aleric stuck out like a sore thumb with his stark white hair and the sleeves of his shirt acting as a flag.

He’d been fucked either way.

Without a second thought, he mounted Mighty. If he could get past them and back to the camp, they might not follow and attempt anything because the servants would be witnesses, and the last thing a man wants before murder is several pairs of eyes on him.

He’d barely settled in the saddle before Mighty reared with a whinny. A few riders far off shouldn’t have been enough to terrify her so much, and more than ever, he thought she’d been poisoned. As soon as her front hooves hit the ground, she took off and veered in the wrong direction despite him struggling to get her to go another way.

A whistle came from behind him. One had signaled the other two.

If he couldn’t return to camp, he could try to find one of the groups. They wouldn’t risk being seen, right? Aleric was a good fighter, but not against three men on a horse he couldn’t control, and he couldn’t pretend his archery skill was enough to save him. Hunting rabbits and fighting to live aren’t the same thing. If he got down to use his bow and have better aim, he’d be an easy target on the ground. The other three might have bows, and even if Aleric nailed one, the other two could kill him.

He’d never manage his bow on a horse who was out of control. She ran like the entire Soleilian army was chasing her down, and trees flashed by as he clung on. A few rabbits burst out of the undergrowth and fled in terror. Behind him, three sets of hooves pounded the ground as the men tried to catch up. The underbrush grew thicker as they went, and a wrong step could send them both to their death.

He chanced a glance behind him. The hood of the nearest had been blown back by the wind as his horse gave chase. Aleric still couldn’t make out his features thanks to some sort of dark grey cloth covering his face. A mask.

Whoever they were, he highly doubted they were from the court or even the city. Gautier had taken a great risk to hire three mercenaries who’d likely be passed off as outlaws by everyone else. They’d be long gone by the time Aleric was found dead in the woods. They’d steal his horse, his sword, and maybe even his clothes and boots to make it look like a convincing robbery.

Everyone would say poor Aleric shouldn’t have gone off alone even though the area had always been safe before. A lone man had been too tempting.

He tried to be smaller as Mighty ran and sweated. Forget trying to guide her in her condition. He could only hope the three horses behind him flagged first. He ducked to avoid a low-hanging branch and contemplated trying an arrow despite the movement.

Too risky. An arrow whizzed by his head and missed him by a couple of inches. It’s a lot easier to aim and release when the target is ahead and doesn’t require the archer to twist around. He jerked on the reins, trying to force Mighty to go right around a couple of thick trees growing near each other, which would keep him a little too close to the forerider.

Mighty neighed and followed her chosen course anyway.

Pain pierced his back through his vest and shirt and made him grunt at the suddenness as a barbed arrow spun into his flesh.

“Fuck…”

His first instinct was to rip out the thing hurting him. One had nailed him to the right in his back. He clutched the reins instead since a freely bleeding hole was the last thing he needed. He had to remain calm. One arrow didn’t mean death, and he was sure it hadn’t pierced a lung. The pain was enough to make him grit his teeth.

If they’d hit him once, they could do it again. How he wished he’d been born a fairy who could throw fire or lightning instead of needing to channel it through a damn weapon.

Mighty let out a scream, and he wasn’t sure if she’d been hit too or not. Every single movement made the arrow hurt worse as he told himself to suck it up and deal while his heart thudded. If he had any chance to survive, he would, and he wasn’t dying as a sniffling, crying mess.

If they reached him, he wouldn’t beg either. He’d fight them until his last breath no matter what they did to him. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the forerider creeping up on his charger with his sword drawn. Lightning crackled around the blade.

He was like Aleric which would even things a little. If he preferred to do things directly…Aleric drew his sword and switched it to his left hand so he wouldn’t have to lean, twist, and possibly further open the wound in his back. The damn barbed arrow was more painful than he’d ever expected since he’d never been shot with one, and it made him hyper-aware of every bump in the ground as Mighty continued galloping despite frothing with sweat and heaving for air. Lightning formed around his blade.

The rider, with only his eyes showing through holes in the black cloth mask that covered his face, struck out.

It wasn’t a neat blow with the movement of his mount, and Aleric managed to parry it despite using his left hand. He hadn’t been neat either, and the clashing sent jarring pain throbbing through him. It was better than being sliced and shocked by the enemy’s magic.

The rider switched hands, jerked his horse closer, and reached over.

Mighty screamed with the other horse being so close, and Aleric grunted as his hair was yanked. For a moment, he thought he’d be pulled off and trampled. He blindly slashed to his left, and the pressure vanished as his sword struck something, although he wasn’t sure if he’d inflicted a mortal wound or not. Mighty jerked aside to avoid a clump of bushes, and another arrow missed him.

Far ahead through the trees, he caught sight of a clearing and tiny flashes of color. People. They were far but near enough to where the other three would surely flee. They wouldn’t risk themselves against so many. He just had to make it.

Something entered his back with such force, it went all the way through. All he felt was pressure until he noticed the metal sticking out of his front and gleaming with his blood. A spear. One had thrown a spear and hit his mark. The agony came so swiftly, he almost blacked out.

Mighty’s sides heaved as she sweated. The forerider was suddenly gone. Aleric dropped his sword as he clutched at the reins and struggled to stay upright. Mighty flew into the clearing. Several of the riders were on one side, and a man was holding up five rabbits by the ears. A woman screamed, and the proud hunter turned.

Aleric gritted his teeth as the end of the spear sticking out of him sagged and seemed to pull on his insides. Hot blood was dribbling down his front. The physician was among the group, and he realized their intent might not have been to kill him in the woods. If they failed, there was another way.

Father was in the group, and if Aleric could tell him-he wouldn’t listen. The thought started unraveling, and his heart ached while thudding as if it couldn’t cope anymore. Blood was seeping into his trousers.

Mighty, pushed beyond her limit, bucked as if to throw him and be rid of the weight. The movement jerked the spear and arrow lodged in his torso. He barely managed to hold on as the courtiers shouted, and several came toward him. The physician yelled, and he caught sight of Gautier who yelled to calm the horse.

“Get him off!” Father’s voice came through quite clearly for a moment before Mighty finally got her wish.

“Dear Elira! He’s been hit.”

Mighty must have jerked or bucked. He didn’t remember. One second, he was clinging on and trying to stay upright and conscious. In the next, the ground slammed into his side. The agony pulled him completely under. Bits made it through. Shouts sounded far away. The ground was cold under him. Or he was cold. He wasn’t sure. His torso throbbed nonstop, and he was sure he tasted blood.

Someone grabbed his arm. “Aleric!”

Jaime. He couldn’t be a part of this, right? He was too new. Other voices spoke, and he heard something about holding him so the physician could remove the spear.

And give him medicine. A tincture for blood loss. Another to calm and sedate him. He might not ever wake up. He had to tell Jaime, Father, everyone. He couldn’t quite make his mouth work, and everything was fading. Colors and things he couldn’t define bled in and out of his vision. Jaime’s face was suddenly quite close and clear enough.

“Aleric,” Jaime repeated with a real note of fear in his voice. “Hang on. He’ll get the spear out.”

“G-Gautier did it,” Aleric managed to say.