Chapter 3: Cannot Stand
"How long does the blood thistle remain potent after harvest?"
Cub answered, swiftly. "3 days."
"How long will the draught remain at maximum potency once it's brewed?"
"5 hours." He could answer every question about this draught with a concussion, let alone on a normal day. Still, she asked him after each time they harvested a batch.
"What happens if you make it wrong?"
"I won't make it wrong!" he said. He knew it was the wrong answer, but didn't care. Catkin cleared her throat. Cub heaved a sigh and parrotted the answer she wanted. "If I realize, we wait until next harvest, possibly next spring if the snows come too early."
"And if you don't realize?", she asked leadingly.
"We die.", he stated simply.
Catkin scoffed and shook her head, but not at his answer. "Poison! Your father would have hated this plan." She jutted out her chin and deepened her voice, "The honor of death in battle cannot be witheld from a warrior of such skill!".
"Look where that got him." Cub spat bitterly.
Catkin sighed. "Your father lived by the warrior's code. He died by it as well. The only thing he took more seriously than his oath as Strongest, was doting on you and your sister."
"Seems to me like his oath was more important." Cub whispered. He knew it was a lie, though. A memory of climbing his father's braid like a rope when he was little came unbidden to his mind. His father's work-hardened and Fountain-purified body had borne his weight without complaint. The warmth of the remembered hug when Cub reached his shoulders was almost tangible on his skin and he could smell the sweet bark and sweat in the crook of his fathers shoulder. Cub blinked away the unshed tears and changed the subject. "Do you think it will be strong enough?"
Catkin met his eyes and rested her hand softly on his wrist. "This is the strongest poison I know. Even without growing near a Fountain, it could kill one of our warriors."
"My father?"
"Not without the plant or poison also being Purified in the Fountain. Claw was chosen by the Fountain. He would receive the benefits in half the time or less as compared to everyone else." Catkin shook her head with a memory Cub couldn't share. "His potential seemed endless." Her eyes grew hard, then. "Silas is more Pure than can even be dreamt of on Caltronia. The Fountains he bathed in must have been larger than all of those I've ever visited combined."
Cub noticed that she hadn't answered his question, but let it drop. "Tell me again."
Though there was nowhere for prying ears to hide, she spoke only as loud as was needed for Cub alone to hear her. "The poison is most effective when introduced to the bloodstream, but his skin cannot be penetrated by any but the most Purified objects. That, I will take care of. It will take me most of the day to feign gathering herbs, reach where it is hidden, and return. This is why you must make the draught; its potency will not last the duration of my trip. I will pass the blade secretly into your cart. Young and agile you may be, but no blade can give you the skills you would need to wound him. That is why you will poison his drink using your position at the head table. When the draught has taken effect, only moments after drinking, he should be disoriented and weakened. Stab or cut him as quickly as you can and then run to the place we discussed.", Catkin explained quietly.
It was far from his first time hearing the plan, but it felt more real now that the time was upon them. Cub's stomach felt hollow and queasy. "I will make the draught during this same gap between lessons tomorrow. I will have one hour to brew the draught and dinner will begin 4 hours after that. Plenty of time for him to get thirsty and reach for a drink. By that time I will have added the draught to the wine carafe." He checked the narrow wineskin he had designed to fit invisibly in his sleeve that was sewn from the butcher's leavings. "Uncle," he began with obvious sarcasm, "is the only one at the table that drinks wine. So, the children will not be in danger, nor will someone else drink first and betray our plan. I will busy myself at the cart and watch for him to take his first drink while I use the rest of the draught on the blade. When the time comes, I will bury it in his back.", Cub concluded.
"Go, then. Finish your day and sleep if you can. Perhaps tomorrow will bring something new for us." Catkin pulled him into a hug.
She smelled of earth and herbs and her muscles were taut on her small frame. She was strong for her age, even after 6 years away from the Fountain. The anti-aging effects kept her at the age she had been when she became an Elder, but, as the name implied, that was already in her advanced years. By their traditions, one was not eligible for the title until after their 150th year. Elders then could live indefinitely in proximity to the fountain, leaving to age once more only when they so chose. 150 was already the upper limit of their people's lifespan under normal circumstances of migrating between Fountains. Despite her strength, Cub knew that she was feeling her age, whatever that might be, from the way she moved and the deep valleys in the skin of her face.
She released him after a long while and patted his shoulder while bidding him leave.
As Cub was walking from the room she called out after him as though in sudden recollection. "Would you join me tomorrow morning in the Dance of Dawn's Advent?"
Cub nodded and smiled. Tomorrow would be the first day of rebellion. Whether he saw the second day or not was in the hands of luck alone.
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