2.6

Alexander rode as hard as Fetherfew would gallop in the rain and the mud that the breaking storm had made of the road.

Muriel had stayed behind to guard Jewel.

To help keep his sister safe.

Safe, so he could bring help!

His sister that might-

His sister was hurt because of him!

The three surviving hunters were riding with him. Poor Gimletson. That was also his fault, he hadn't listened to them.

Muriel had told him he was supposed to listen.

It was his hunt, but they knew better.

And now Jewel-

Jewel would be fine, he would bring help. There were three Wizards and Father!

They would fix everything!

If Alexander just could bring news fast enough.

Fetherfew’s breath was a frothy bellows filling her barrel beneath his legs.

His thighs burned terribly.

He was going to be bruised with how hard he was riding.

The pounding of the mud was splattering his legs and face at the pace they were making.

Dark mud washed away in the downpour even under the heavy cover of the forest.

“Young Sir! We have to slow down!”

Kraok yelled over the storm. But Alexander could not bear the thought.

“Jewel’s my SISTER!”

The hunter that had finally felled the horrible boar by sliding under the damned monster to stab it through the chest simply bellowed back.

“If the horses break their legs or you're thrown into a rock in this mess none of us will reach help in time! We have to slow down Lord, to a canter at most!”

He wanted to scream!

Alexander wanted to strike down the man with the spear that failed to even pull a drop of blood from the monster that had brutalized his sister.

But...

That had been exactly how he got his poor sister hurt and Gimletson dead.

He pulled back on the gasping nag he had been forced to ride. Fetherfew’s eyes were rolling, she could probably sense his terror and the urgency, but there was a heavy, wheezing nicker as he slowed her back from the near gallop to a safer trot.

The other horses were breathing hard too.

Soaked down in the rain. The stupid matted down fur of the rabbit carcasses seemed so inconsequential.

Such a stupid reason for his sister to-

For him to have brought her out here and gotten her hurt.

If he’d not asked her to come with him for his hunt...

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It would have been him trampled by the boar.

He tried to close his eyes off from the tears.

Alexander nearly fell out of his saddle when the hand landed heavily on his shoulder.

It was not as large as Father’s own, but Kraok was not a small man.

“Eyes on the road, breathe even. We won’t leave her and your sister won’t perish. Even the slightest and smallest of Wyrm takes a long time to die. And that’s if you spear their heart dead.”

Alexander shook his head, then coughed and sobbed and nodded instead.

He was glad it was raining, no one could see what a coward he was to cry when it was his sister that had suffered the most.

The squeeze of the hand on his shoulder left and he was given a firm slap on his back.

“Eyes on the road, hands on the bridle, knees ready, feet solid, we will make it. Just focus on riding at this pace. Any harder and poor featherfew will keel over afore we get there.”

And so they rode.

Alexander could not see the sun, the day had practically gone to twilight with the storm clouds, torrents of rain blinding but for a dozen yards ahead.

They broke from the woods into the open fields around Fort Rochford and it was everything he could do to not push the wheezing nag even harder through the rain.

But Kraok set the pace to what felt like a crawl as they trotted far too slowly for Alexander up the winding road.

Drawing through the gates that had never been closed in his entire life and finally pulling to a stop in the courtyard.

He leaped from Fetherfew’s back before the stablemaster could even finish arriving to take her reins.

His sopping boots clinging to his toes as he threw his legs ahead of him, desperate to make the distance go away faster. Throwing open the doorway without a care for how he did not close it. Rushing through hallways that now felt far too twisted and long.

Bursting into Father’s study where the wizards were.

Alexander was sopping wet and face dripping with more than just rain.

He was ruining the good carpets.

But he couldn’t stop to care, the words tumbling out of him.

He couldn't hold any of it in anymore after taking so long to find aide.

“Papa! I’m Sorry! There Was a Boar! It’s My Fault! And Jewel! She’s Hurt! She’s Hurt so BAD! In the Woods! Muriel Is There! She Needs Help!”

Papa was there, lifting him up so suddenly it was like he was magicked into his father’s arms and squeezed so tight against his chest.

Papa hadn't done this in years; he was too old for it, Nearly Twelve!

But that didn't matter because Papa was pressing Alexander to his big chest despite how much mud, water (and tears) was getting into his fine clothes.

In all the rush Alexander only just realized he was shivering, teeth chattering from the cold.

And only just because his Papa’s arms practically burned in how warm they were around him.

He felt as much as heard the booming voice terribly fierce but also fragile in a way Alexander had NEVER heard his Papa speak to anyone.

“I don’t care who is in my service, all of you go NOW! Find her! Help Her and save her or so help me wizard or not I will lay waste to all your domains.”

There were sounds that Alexander had never heard before and then a deep brooding silence that was filled with his shivering and chattering teeth and the soft noises of his Papa holding him close and trying to rub some warmth into his trembling body.