49 Midnigh (2/2)

”Do you have evidence?”

”No Milord.” Petrov's body trembled, and he coughed several times.

”Our date is set then.” Nikolai declared, eyes blazing in conviction, not allowing any disagreement. He disliked acting so forcefully, but he'd already asked for assistance and keeping even part of a Legion idle near a town was a recipe for disaster. Vlada would definitely raise a fuss if Nikolai called off the assault because of a 'feeling'.

A determined expression grew on Petrov's face and he nodded slowly. ”So be it Milord. If your mind cannot be changed, we proceed as planned.”

The Commander pulled out a small flask of cider and Nikolai's eyes lit up. Petrov poured for both of them and corked the flask carefully, settling it within his coat like he feared even a drop spilling out.

”I'm glad you brought this Petrov, the day's been long.” Nikolai took a small sip, revelling in the tart taste and gazing out of the window, enjoying the starlight falling on his face.

”It has.” Petrov's response was curt, his eyes darting to Nikolai's glass and sweat beading on his face.

”Are you sure you don't want me to check your illness?” Nikolai yawned, a wave of exhaustion coursing through his body.

”It won't be necessary Milord.” Petrov rose from his seat and took a few steps back, licking his lips and eyeing Nikolai like he faced a great beast.

”What's wrong?” Nikolai yawned again, feeling light-headed as he stood up. ”I really need to sleep.” He mumbled. The words came out slurred, and he frowned, finding it difficult to keep track of his own thoughts. He'd never felt this confused even when he faced thousands of screaming soldiers. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Petrov's ashen gaze fixed on the glass of cider.

Cider which only Nikolai drank.

Petrov's own glass remained untouched on the desk.

Another wave of dizziness hit him and Nikolai gasped in horror, the glass falling from his trembling fingers, cider staining the floorboards a terrible dark orange.

He'd been poisoned!

The room spun around him, twisting in every direction. His hands caught the edge of the desk, papers flying everywhere in his descent. Nikolai couldn't focus, shapes and colours flashing awkwardly in strange patterns. Confused at the warped sensations, he tried to reach for his magic only for it to slip away from him at the last moment, like trying to catch a fish with your bare hands.

The few droplets he gleaned coursed through his veins and searched for the toxin fruitlessly. It should have been impossible for anyone, even his closest associates, to poison him. He kept talismans on his person which detected every single poisonous substance known to the Empire and the Council, even some which weren't.

”They told me a non-lethal substance wouldn't alert you.” Petrov's voice sounded like it was coming from a thousand miles away one moment and right next to his ear the next. Through the haze in his mind Nikolai stared at the Commander feverishly scrabbling through his own pockets in search of something.

Nikolai's legs gave way, and he crashed to the floor, moaning at the pain radiating from his knees at the impact.

”Why?” He croaked, staring at Petrov's looming figure.

”They promised… wouldn't kill you… Galicia… spell…” It was impossible to focus under the influence of the poison and Nikolai could only catch one word in ten.

Nikolai's body shook and his vision cleared for a moment, seeing Petrov holding a small disc out of the window and sensing soft waves of magical power emanating from it.

The moment of clarity vanished and darkness enveloped him as he slipped into a deep sleep.