Arrow Lake abbatia

Antigone returned with a great deal of goosegrass and he began to let it soak the blood that was not being treated by the webs. Reyson had done a decent job, he thought… for a bumbling soldier. Meadow’s blood felt hot as he worked to tend her wounds. The boy’s dark eyes were piercing upon her face, praying that she would wake and tell him what else he might do to help her. He wanted to see the knowing expression on her face. He wanted to feel confident that she would return to their home and Antigone would work with her, learn from her. He could feel his chest tighten.

Arsenio’s anger was boiling over. He did not know how the soldier was so composed. He did not know how Reyson had not finished the job that the cougar had started on the Roman.

As he looked to the man with yellow eyes, he realized that Germanicus had turned the same shade of spoiled blue as the Pharaoh. He would take and take until he got what he wanted. He would not care who he hurt in the process. There would be no hope for reconciliation. He would never trust this man again.

Look at him, Antigone.

Arsenio’s breath was hot upon the air. He motioned for the boy to inspect Germanicus. Hatred boiled the blood in his veins.

This is the last kindness you will be shown by my family, by Epoch. If you are seen anywhere near our home again, you will wish you had died here this day. And as he spoke this, he realized that he wished there was more distance between Mereo and Epoch. They were too close, now. He was too close with this devil of a man who wore the face of a friend. Beneath those taciturn eyes, Germanicus was nothing more than a selfish pig.

Antigone moved to look at the man’s wounds, if he would allow it.

Reyson, help lift her onto my back. I will carry her the first half and you will carry her home.