Shouts echoed faintly in the distance as Lara neared the inn, mingling with the panicked whinnies of horses and the rustle of boots on gravel. A prickling sense of urgency crept up her spine. As she crossed into the inn's perimeter, her brothers finally appeared, stumbling from the doorway, both hunched over and clutching their stomachs like men pierced by invisible daggers.
"Sis, is Sandoz alright?" Bener asked. "He seemed to be still in shock."
"Damn it! My stomach hurts again." He ran in the direction of the outhouse.
Lara's eyes narrowed. Only then did she notice the growing line at the back of the inn — guests and soldiers alike queued up impatiently outside the outhouse, one of them banging on the wooden door and shouting at the unfortunate soul trapped inside to hurry it up.
Grimacing, she looked down at the boy in her arms, who looked pale and half-conscious, and carried him back to their room. He groaned softly in her arms, his skin clammy.
