Veiled Threat by Helen Harper

reminded me that what we were watching had already happened. There was nothing I could do to change things.
    Bit by bit, her companions started to notice. A burly warlock hauled her out of her seat and thumped her on the back. When that didn’t work, he wrapped his arms round her body to start what could only be the Heimlich manoeuvre. Even if he could have pulled if off, it wouldn’t have worked. As it was, he began having breathing difficulties. He released the woman, whose eyes had already rolled back into her head, and doubled over in agony.
    Lexie pointed at the group of laughing women. They weren’t having fun now. Several of them had been sick, a pool of their vomit spreading across the long wooden table. At least one was already dead.
    Watching this terrible scene unfold in total silence made its horror even more wrenching. These were my people ‒ and they were all dying.
    ‘It was poison,’ I said, turning away, unable to look any longer. ‘It wasn’t my father who killed them. It was poison.’
    Taylor nodded grimly. ‘And we already know Aifric has form for that method of disposal.’
    I tried to think clearly though it wasn’t easy. ‘It’s still circumstantial. There’s no actual proof that he did this.’
    ‘Who else could have?’
    I didn’t have an answer. I wanted to feel relieved that it wasn’t my father who’d committed such a heinous act but, until I knew for sure who was culpable, I couldn’t relax.
    My mother appeared in the doorway, right in front of my eyes. She was sweating and pale but there was a smile on her face. She was clutching her belly and obviously looking for help. Labour, I thought dully; she was in labour.
    It was the expression on her face that made me start crying my own huge, silent tears. Her eyes darted round the dining hall, her smile slowly disappearing as first confusion, then horror followed quickly by terror filled her face. She ran forward, a few stumbling steps made all the more awkward by her size and condition. Then she seemed to think better of it; perhaps she realised there was nothing she could do. Maybe she wanted to get my father. To fetch help.
    She spun round and ran out. We went after her. She fell into the courtyard, threw back her head and screamed, her mouth wide open.
    A shadow flitted in the corner of my eye. Lexie cried out and so did I. But we couldn’t warn Coira Adair. She couldn’t see us. She saw the archer though, and turned to him just as he loosed the shot. His eyes were dull and pained as he melted away again but right now, it wasn’t him I cared about.
    Whoever he was, his aim was true. The arrow struck my mother in the chest, embedding itself deep in her body. Without realising it, I clutched at the same spot on my chest. There was another flutter of movement as my father appeared, running towards her and scooping her into his arms. The anguish on his face filled the entire courtyard. He yanked open her simple peasant’s blouse, his fingers touching the arrow, pulling away and then touching it once more.
    ‘He can’t decide what to do,’ Speck said softly. ‘Should he pull it out or leave it in?’
    I didn’t answer. I wasn’t capable of speech.
    My mother wasn’t dead. She grabbed at my father, her lips moving. He shook his head and she tried again. He was crying but her eyes were clear as she told him what she wanted. She was a warrior right up till the end when her body jerked violently just once before going still.
    I collapsed to my knees; I could barely see what was happening through my tears and I wiped furiously at my face. My father seemed frozen for a long moment, staring down at her as if willing her to wake up. Then he sprang up and ran to a bag hanging from a nail. He drew out a knife with a long sharp blade and went back to her.
    I knew what he was going to do and the last thing I wanted was to see it but I had to. I owed both of them that much; they deserved that I bear witness to this terrible event. It