The bile of poison danced in Saer's fingers while Saer waited for the venom to take out Wernh'An's clan. Saer was attempting to make no noise at all but the bunch of keys with him could chime even at his minute movements.

One of those keys were the one which could open the wagon. And as per Gervase, it was the sole key for it. Saer kept his patience although worry for Calajhans was hollowing him from inside.

He tightened his grip on the bottle when those people did not show any sign of discomfort. All of them had drunk water from the stream he had poisoned.

Why is it taking so long? Are they immune to this poison? Saer stared at the bottle.

Confused, he removed the cork from its mouth and pointed its mouth towards the ground.

The droplet of water crept to its rim, suspended there for a moment then separated itself free. As the tiny drop fell on surface, it made a mild hiss which only Saer heard. The spot where it had landed became a crater from where a stem of smoke rose.

Saer put his soles over it, killing its smell.

"Hey." Saer heard.

He looked around to see who had heard the hiss.

A fat man hoisting a net full of fishes was the one who had spoken. His eyes were set on a man who had been near the fire, enjoying hiswine.The other person with the fat man also had a basket occupied by turtles and oysters.

"Fishes were too stunned today." Man carrying fishes gasped, "Had easiest time catching them."

Some people came around him. Majority of them picked the fishes and sniffed.

"Fresh." Fisherman said.

Handful of them went on to inspect turtles which were hiding in their shells.

"Turtles are alive." The man holding their basket said, "They left the stream for some reason."

"Did you search for their eggs in the bank?"

"There was not a single turtle egg."

"An alligator is in the river, perhaps, be careful."

"WAIT!" someone came coughing from near the wagon, "Is somebody else feeling numbness in their tongue?"

"No, but I feel cold." Person wrapped in woolen clothes said.

"I think I feel fatigued." One said, raising his trembling hand.

"And you?" the coughing man came near to the fisherman.

Fisherman's lips hand changed its colour. He looked at lips of people he could see.

Greenish lips everywhere.

"Gervase poisoned the river." Man bellowed.

His voice got all the attention it needed. There were plenty of men who did not have any other opinion than it. He scampered to the wagon with those individuals who had faith in his words.

“Where is that whore?” he yelled in his dried voice,

“Don’t panic, you son of a bitch.” A bald man said, “It will make effect of this poison worse.”

“KARLA!”

“KARLA!” – COUGH.

The loudest man spared himself some breath as blood seeped out of his nostrils. Because of panicking, effect of poison had already begun accelerating. With the discomfort growing worse, nothing could keep them calm.

“Where did she go?” some coughed, “Where is Yofrah?”

People who were meant to answer him had started coughing cloths of blood. Every man in there was showing different symptom. But there was a common factor most of them – fatigue.

People who were somehow unaffected of exhaustion managed to bring down a small tree. They brought trunk of the big tree for breaking open the wagon door. They lifted it and charged at the wagon. The heavy log hit the wagon door. It left a small mark on there.

However, it was insignificant as it was a mere scratch.

“Don’t go blank, lads. We can break this.” Leader said, “Somebody bring Karla or Yofrah.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“People – COUGH – have – COUGH – gone there. COUGH.”

The bunch of muscular men lifted the log again but this time, it was not easy like before. It appeared as if they had lost half of their strength only by taking a moment for motivation.

Men screamed and ran with the massive log. Although they had been drained of power, the collision was harder than before.

The wagon had a different thing to offer – disappointment.

A mark which they had presumed to be a scratch was just a smudge of mud.

While they prepared for the final hit left within them, three men carrying the trunk collapsed. With the fulcrum point displaced, the strong ones couldn’t keep holding the thing either.

Now there were four men left for the job designed to be done by double of their number. Dizziness didn’t halt them from hoisting it once again. When they somehow lifted the log, blood came out of their ears.

Saer watched them wobble with the tree trunk. In the attempt to raise it at appropriate height, the trunk crushed them. Pressed by the heavy trunk, those men who once held pride in their strength died without making a big contribution.

Others couldn’t stand long against effect of the poison too. Most of them fell on ground never to rise again. Weaker ones got to die peaceful death. Strong men found their strength on the side of defeat.

Seeing everyone struggling to stir, Saer decided it was a perfect time for him to emerge out of his hiding. He walked past the humans wriggling like headless snakes. He glanced down at the eyes giving him a look of accusation.

Saer denied none of it. He dropped the poison bottle on the chest of the person looking at him with contempt. Before dying, he got to see Saer's grin.

Saer's left ear had a sudden movement as if it had detected a sound. He paid attention to his surrounding then reckoned his senses were not wrong. Saer could hear something but still too distant in order to create meaning from.

The next time heard it, it was closer to him than he had imagined.

"Don’t drink the water." A tall man came tumbling with his coarse voice.

Yofrah's eyes matched with Saer's. He also saw what people had been seeing in Saer.

His eye.

Dizzy, Yofrah glared at him while leaning on the wagon door. Saer presumed he would be on ground, like others, any moment but he discovered something suspicious in his activity.

Yofrah was putting hand on his waist.

Saer did not take long to notice a dagger hanging on his waist. Heunclipped his shiny knife before Yofrah could draw his. Then Saer sent his dagger into Yofrah's forehead.

Yofrah clung on the door handle but couldn’t keep the hold for long. His fingers loosened and he slid down, leaving blood trails of his three fingers on the wall.

He held patience for Yofrah's breathing to stop and, when it did, he leaped his way to Yofrah then began pulling the dagger. Even his strength couldn’t dislodge his weapon from Yofrah's skull. Saer let the dagger rest there and began his search for an appropriate weapon.

He couldn’t think beyond a crossbow since daggers and swords had Wutke's prayers carved on them. Anything representing Wutke was a no for him.

After a brief search, he discovered a crossbow of his choice. It bore neither symbol nor prayer. Maybe it was gathered from Gervase's clan.

Saer knelt, collecting arrows scattered on the ground. He put the arsenal upright then started to fill pointy arrows in it. He had not thrown more than four arrows in there when he heard a growl from ahead.

He gulped, seeing a wolf as tall as him coming at his direction.