When Aloisia awoke, it was morning. Birds chirped outside, sun filtering in her windows. Staring at the ceiling, she felt disoriented for a moment, until she remembered her bed was not where it usually was. And she remembered why.
With tentative fingers, Aloisia prodded her ribs, searching out what damage had been done. She did not think they were broken, just badly bruised. Her head still throbbed, but the pain had certainly faded. Slowly, she heaved herself up onto her elbows, gritting her teeth as the pain rose anew with her movements.
Regardless of the pain singing through her, Aloisia was determined to go to the prison. She needed answers. And, with another trial the following day, she wanted to have more evidence to bring forth. Or else Fynn’s fate would be sealed. Perhaps Inari’s too.
Inari. The shaman would speak to no one except her. Why? If it would secure his release, why wouldn’t he take the opportunity? His distrust of the judiciaries was the only reason Aloisia could discern. Then again, what little she knew of Inari led her to believe he was a law unto himself. His reasons were his alone.
Aloisia cast the furs atop her aside, cautiously setting each foot upon the floor. The ache in her ribs intensified and her vision blurred a little. She closed her eyes, centring herself. Glancing up, she spotted Dhara across the room. The lead huntress sat on a low stool, her legs outstretched and crossed before her. She leant back against the wall, raising a brow at Aloisia.
“I wanted to see how far you would get,” Dhara said. “Much farther than I thought, so far.”
Aloisia gritted her teeth and pushed herself to her feet. The room swayed about her. Dhara sprang up from the stool and was at her side in a few strides.
“Take it easy, girl.” Dhara gripped her elbow, steadying her. “You have to be careful.”
“I have to go to the prison.”
Dhara clicked her tongue. “Can’t it wait? You can barely stand.”
“No, it can’t. The trial is tomorrow. If I don’t do this today, it will be too late.”
“All right. I want to see you stand and walk on your own before you are allowed to go. And someone must accompany you. Kaja, perhaps.”
Frustration gnawed at Aloisia. She didn’t have time for this. But she gave a nod all the same. Dhara released her elbow, her arms still outstretched as if to catch Aloisia should she fall.
“I’ll be fine,” Aloisia assured her, but only received an unconvinced look in return.
She strode forwards, Dhara hovering at her side. Though she moved far slower and more carefully than usual, she was walking on her own.
“Satisfied?” Aloisia asked.
Dhara gave a non-committal grunt. “They’re serving breakfast in the hall. Do you need help changing?”
Aloisia shook her head. “I should be all right.”
“I’ll send Kaja to collect you.”
Aloisia watched the lead huntress go before making her way back to her bed. She perched on the edge, the exertion of what little she had done already weighing on her. Her trunk had been placed beside the bed, so she dug through it for a fresh set of hunting leathers to replace the thin nightdress she wore.
Changing into her clothes was painful and exhausted her further. Aloisia hoped some breakfast and fresh air would be enough to revitalise her, if only for a short while. She flopped back on her bed once her trousers were finally on and briefly wondered if she would be able to get back up. A knock came from the door, and she struggled to lift her head to see who was there.
“Come in,” she called.
Kaja pushed the door open. “You’ve seen better days.”
“Haven’t we all?”
Kaja breathed a laugh as she collected Aloisia’s boots from beside the door. “True enough. None of us are getting any younger.” She offered a hand and pulled her into a sitting position. “I get why you want to go,” she said, kneeling before Aloisia to help her put her boots on. “But I’m not going to let you kill yourself in this endeavour.”
“What happened, Kaja?” She knew of the stag, Mavka had told her that much. Yet apart from a few glimpses here and there, of deer and blood, of arrows and antlers, she couldn’t remember what had actually happened.
“The lead huntresses said you were having trouble remembering. Dhara reckons it’s because of the head injury.” Kaja finished lacing the boots and patted her leg. “You put up a good fight. The stag was dead by the time we actually reached you.”
“A stag…” An image flickered, dim as candlelight, in her mind. Antlers almost as tall as she was, fur as black as night, eyes like inky pools.
“It came out of nowhere. Spooked your mare. She threw you off and fled, then the thing attacked you. You got a few swipes at it, we got it with a few arrows. Then, right as you plunged the blade into its neck, it swung its head and sent you flying. By the time you hit the ground, it was dead. But it got a shot in just in time.”
Aloisia frowned, trying to recall it.
