Poison (Larry Stylinson AU)

Chapter Nine

I woke up at daybreak and have now been trekking through the woods for what feels like hours. Now it was about mid-day and I should be reaching the road soon, if I am going in the correct direction.

None of the woods thus far has felt familiar, but I pass it off as me not paying enough attention the first time around. I grow increasingly frustrated with myself with every step that the road isn't in my view.

I'm about to completely lose my mind when I finally see a break in the trees.

Stepping out onto the roadside it appears I have miscalculated somewhere along the line. The road is definitely the one I'm supposed to be on, but I just don't see my horse anywhere. The road is empty aside from me.

I'm just hoping that I'm closer to Camelot rather than farther away.

There are only two options for me to go now, one that leads to Camelot and one that leads away. The only issue is that I have no idea which is which.

I decide to take my chances and blindly pick a direction, I figure that's better than me choosing nothing at all. At least I know I'm moving in a direction.

I'm walking for about an hour before I see another person on the road. It's a man on horseback.

"Hey!" I call out, waving my arms at him. They see me and slow down hesitantly.

"Yes?" They ask, stopping but remaining on their horse.

"I just need to know the way to Camelot."

"I'm actually coming from there mate, it's about a day's travel by foot."

A days travel.

I don't think I have that long.

Liam said Harry had three days at best and it's already been two.

"Did you happen to see a horse tied up beside the road on your way?"

"Uhm... not too long ago actually, probably like an hour ago. Is that yours?"

"Yeah, it is actually." I reply, running my hands over my face, relieved.

"Hopefully you get there soon, looters around these parts have gotten quite common." The man says. The way he says it almost sounds like he's scolding me.

"Thank you so much, I had best be going then." I said waving to him before separating ways.

I've only walked a little farther when I hear two sets of footsteps coming up behind me.

"Hey there pretty boy." A gruff voice sing-songs at me. I don't turn around to acknowledge it.

"Aw pretty boy can't hear, too bad." A different voice taunts.

Two men run up beside me, both matching my stride.

"Now what is someone like you doing out here all alone?" The man to my right asks. I continue to ignore them, hoping my lack of reaction bores them and they leave me alone.

"Who taught you those manners, boy? Didn't they teach you it's rude to ignore someone?" The man on the right continues.

"You're right Bart, I think we ought to teach him ourselves. We were gonna kill him and rob him anyways, might as well teach him a lesson while we are at it." The man to my left says. Before he even finishes his second sentence my sword is drawn.

I now stand in front of both of the men and I eye them sternly. The man that was to my right, and is apparently named "Bart" is gruff and tall, he appears to be the older of the two. Bart holds the sword confidently, but I can tell he's had a bit to drink. The shorter man of the two is definitely drunk off his ass and looks less comfortable with the sword in his hand. He is slightly swaying side to side, but still looks ready to attack.

Seems like an easy fight.

Bart lunges at me first, taking strategic swings at me. His swings are calculated, but easy to predict so I match them with my sword.

The clanging of metal rings in my head with each swing.

I manage to push Bart away long enough for me to get a swing in. He lets out a pained grunt when my blade hits his skin and he pulls away holding his arm where I had cut him. The cut is deep and no doubt hurts a lot.

Now the shorter man takes his turn. His moves are sloppy and careless, probably due to his drunken state. His technique includes taking lazy swings whenever he sees an opportunity. Since there's no calculation to his swings, I'm finding it a bit more difficult to block them. So far I'm doing a good job keeping him from hitting me.

One swing comes with more force than I'm expecting and it sends me stumbling backward. Before I can completely catch myself I feel his blade slice my upper thigh.

The blood immediately seeps through the fabric of my pants.

I suck in a sharp breath, push away the pain erupting from the wound and regain my footing.

The man almost seems impressed with himself that he hit me. While he is momentarily distracted, I take the opportunity to strike him back. I aim for a blow more fatal than the one he dealt me. His expression changes quickly when he realizes what is happening.

My blade stabs him in the abdomen.

Immediately after I pull my blade back, the man stumbles back onto the ground.

I feel a little bit accomplished with myself as he presses his hand over the wound.

"Shit!" he coughs out.

Bart comes charging at me again.

I can tell he is still in pain from his arm because his swings are weaker, making them easier to dodge and block. My adrenalin is fueling every move I make now and I'm swiftly moving about through his swings. I make an abrupt move and end up stabbing him in a similar fashion to the other, just enough to debilitate him.

He too stumbles backwards to the ground and joins his buddy as the both writhe in pain. I take this as a chance for me to take off running. My leg wound is screaming at me through every stride but I ignore it, while I try to put as much distance between me and them as I can.

I've been running for a good five minutes before I finally let myself stop, but only after I check over my shoulder and make sure the coast is clear. I don't see either of the men behind me. The nearest tree quickly becomes my crutch as I lean my entire weight against it and address the piercing pain tearing through my leg. The wound is big but nothing compressing it with some fabric won't fix.

I tear a piece of my shirt, long enough to tie around my leg. Then I tie it tight around the wound to stop the bleeding. Remembering the point of my travels, I stuff my hand into my pocket and feel around to retrieve the, now crumpled, flower from my pocket. I'm relieved to find it's still there and mostly intact.

I push myself up and away from the tree, taking a moment to reorient myself with the pain in my leg before hobiling my way down the path.

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