Death and Politics
Therys glanced over his shoulder at the sullen villagers waiting along the lake shore. Armed guards stood a few paces behind, poised to stop any who tried to run. His stomach churned with the thought of the gruesome fate that awaited them. He turned back to Nyci. “Juno is going to allow Gorm to feed.”
Nyci’s glaring eyes bore into him. “And why should he have to feed again so soon? He had enough at the last feeding to keep him until the harvest.”
Therys flinched under her gaze. “I was forced to… harm him. He had eaten the young lord. You must understand; I had no other choice.”
Nyci flew into a fury. “A lord?! What do I care if some dimwitted duchess failed to keep a watchful eye on her son?! Whether we like it or not, Gorm is necessary for this garden to thrive. We need those herbs. How could you be so-”
Therys placed his hands on her shoulders. “It was Joshua.”
Nyci’s mouth dropped open. “No… No, it can’t be.” She began to tremble.
“I couldn’t save him, Nyci. The Denar ward is dead.”