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| photo credit: lanterns via photopin (license) |
Just
a little farther!
She
turned down another alleyway to her right just to be met with total
darkness.
Wait,
what?
Angela’s
breath froze in her throat as she peered into the inky blackness in
front of her.
A
dead end!
She
whirled around. Two men illuminated by a single lantern now blocked
her only means of escape.
“This’ll
teach you to run!” A voice behind her jeered.
Angela
heard the swish of the rope seconds before it coiled itself around
her legs and pulled taunt sending her sprawling to the ground. Rough
hands surrounded and restrained her despite her best efforts to yank
herself free.
“Check
her ankle for the mark!” A venomous voice commanded from the
darkness.
The
lantern bobbed closer, allowing Angela to recognize the rough twisted
faces of the very men who had burned her parents’ estate to the
ground just weeks ago. A bearded man snatched back the cuff of her
stocking revealing the royal shield and burning arrow emblem branded
into the side of her ankle. Angela tried to twist her foot free from
his grasp only to be met with pain in her arms as the men at her
sides tightened their grip further.
“Don’t
let the criminal escape!” The venomous voice spat.
“It’s
her, Argyle.” The bearded man announced.
“Congratulations
men! This flailing cur has a price on her head that outweighs any of
the traitors we have caught this month! Bag her up, we’ll deliver
this one back to Urshelon tonight!”
Urshelon?
The platforms must be active again if they’re taking me off planet!
Angela’s mind wheeled in alarm.
“I’m
no traitor! I’ve lived on Erasted all my life!” Angela shouted.
One
of the brute’s slapped a film across her mouth sealing in her
protests while they pulled a scratchy burlap bag over her entire
body. A hiss and sting in her arm told her that she wouldn’t be
conscious for the trip.
Angela
woke on the floor of a dimly lit room. The man with the beard
shredding the last of the ropes around her legs with a sharp dagger.
Angela eyed the dagger warily.
“Good,
you’re awake!” The man whispered.
His
trembling hands hurried to cut through the ropes binding her ankles
and wrists.
“You
don’t have long. The clothes on the chair may not be in fashion for
a lady of your station, but they will help hide your identity well
enough. Leave through the window, hurry and you won’t be noticed!”
The
bearded man yanked Angela to her feet and pushed her in the direction
of a chair on which a mans tunic and pants lay. The man left quickly
and a key clicked in the lock. Angela looked back at the pants and
beyond those, the cracked open window beyond which lay her freedom.
500 word Flash Fiction
In the world of Sword Of The White Knight
In the world of Sword Of The White Knight
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