Child of thorns

Fin - Chapter Five

Quick Authors note :D I just want to say thank you to anyone who has got this far in my story. Your support is greatly appreciated. 

One slight change I have made to a characters name, Asha, Roses daughter is now called Anya. The name change happened by complete accident but in the end I realised I liked this name better.

Thanks :D

The autumn rains cascaded down the road as the nights wind rustled though the trees, Another week of rain and the town would be a flowing river. I moved from the window and almost tripped over a bucket which had been collecting the excess rainfall which leaked through the thatched roof. The room was damp despite the fire and Rose had done her best to block the holes which let the water through.  

Various herbs were strewn about the table along with the wooden sword I had taken from the cabin. Aegon had trained me with the sword from an early age and as a result it now felt like an extension of my arm. We had trained almost every day and every morning I woke up with fresh bruises. I picked up the sword and practiced a few swings being careful not to hit any of the pots.

Rose stoked the fire with a stick and then returned to crushing up herbs in the mortar and pestle. She had been teaching me about which plants were edible and which were poisonous. Rose had plants which would which would cure most severe illnesses but she also carried plants which would cause a swift or a slow painful death.

“See this,” said Rose as she picked a purple plant off the table, “this plant when crushed into liquid form and put on an arrowhead or a sword can kill a man with a single scratch. First it causes paralysis and then shuts down the body from the inside like a parasite.”

“What is it called?”

“Monkshood or as the soldiers prefer to call it Wolfs bane, a few drop of this and even the mightiest soldier would find it hard to stave off death.”

Rose turned back towards the fire and began to stoke the fire once again.  While her back was turned I slipped two leaves off the plant into my tunic. She did not see me take the leaves off the plant as she moved away from the fire and sat by the table.

“Where are you from Fin?” questioned Rose.

I paused for a moment placing the sword back on the table before answering.

“I lived in an old cabin outside Lorralin with my Father, much like this cabin,” I replied.

She returned to crushing herbs before looking up once again.

“What happened to your Father, if you do not mind my asking?”

I could feel tears prickling at my eyes, the familiar pains of sorrow had begun to return.

Quietly I said, “He... was killed.”

It felt good to say the words. He was killed, killed by Falcor, killed by the King’s right hand just as Garridan had. I felt something I had not felt since I left Garridan at the cabin, I felt anger.

“I am so very sorry dear, I should not have asked.”

“I will never be able to talk with him again, never able to say goodbye, practice with him or laugh with him. Every moment I remember of him is soured by a shadow.  They took him away from me and I will never get him back, I want to kill them.”

Rose had gone quiet, after a few seconds she seemed to have grasped the extent of what I had said.

Her voice was hushed when she spoke, “Do these men deserve death?”

“Why not? They killed my Father!” I exclaimed.

“And how would you kill them, with a sword,” she said gesturing towards the wooden sword,” or would you use a bow.”