19 Two Ways to Die (1/2)

Joaolong's body slowly turned numb. A wave of dizziness made him sway. What were they doing here again? The answer seemed unclear, blocked by a mental fog. The last time he felt this way was at the prince's 18th birthday when…

The realisation hit hard. ”I've been poisoned.”

Disung looked at him in disbelief. ”Are you certain?”

”A man who is often poisoned notices the symptoms. Soon, I will lose control of my limbs and vomit,” Joaolong stated matter-of-factly. ”Section twelve of my journal. I have ingested this poison before.”

”I think you're just drunk!” Disung yelled in a jolly voice. He shoved Joaolong towards the horse, encouraging him to mount it. During this, he tapped his left knuckle three times; this signalled danger. ”I've seen ladies drink more than you!”

Ying ran to them. ”Don't dare leave! Let us negotiate the—”

Disung grabbed Ying by his shirt and his joints cracked in a threatening manner. Joaolong rarely saw his friend without a smile. The situation must've been bad.

”You shut your mouth. It cannot be coincidental that men have run into us at the same time Wang Joaolong is ill.”

”W-W-Wang? The Master Wang Joaolong?! We did not know anything! We swear! We are just hunting! Then you must be Ànshù…”

”That is not important!”

”I cannot see any men.”

Disung grimaced. ”Because you aren't a tracker. Believe me when I say there are men coming from higher ground on horses. Probably eight. I cannot defeat them alone when Joaolong is vulnerable. Help me fight them to prove your innocence. If you get injured or die in battle, I'll provide great compensation. Agreed?” Disung whispered. Ying nodded, too fearful to understand what he agreed to.

Several men came into view in that moment, their horses trudging on the rocky landscape. Their grubby appearance and sneers made them look like bandits. Judging by the expensive, well-crafted weapons in their hands, either they killed a few men before or someone with power hired them. Either way, the battle would be a bloody mess.

”Tell your men you all fight with me,” Disung whispered through bared teeth to Ying. The boy slowly returned to his brothers.

The leader of the newcomers – whose long, greasy hair flowed freely down his back – smiled and showed his rotting yellow teeth. As Joaolong gagged, he pointed at him with a dirty finger. ”We want that one.”

”Who sent you?” Disung asked casually, slipping back into his easy-going manner. He started to drink from a small flask. ”Would you like some wine?”

”Give us the pendant!” A gawky man demanded. He pointed his bow at Joaolong. An arrow fired. Joaolong's body refused to move. He held his breath.