Will leaned closer to Robard’s slightly open mouth and sniffed experimentally. He thought he could catch a faint trace of something—something sickly sweet. He glanced around the room. There was a water jug on the small bedside table, but no glass. He looked further. No sign of a glass or beaker anywhere. Unless . . .

Carefully, he lifted an edge of the tangled curtain and heard something rattle briefly on the floor. He raised the curtain farther and saw the beaker where it had fallen from Robard’s hand. The drape had hidden it. There was a small damp patch on the floor. Gingerly, Will retrieved the horn beaker and sniffed it. The same sickly sweet smell greeted his nostrils.

“Poison,” he said briefly, and there was a stir among the servants who had crowded into the doorway of the room.

Ranger's Apprentice: The Lost Stories - The Bridal Dance; Chapter 2