Scales and Swords ✓

37: Counting On A Miracle

The little town was asleep. Lights dulled or completely out. Streets empty. So quiet, every footstep seemed to echo.

Drop them on the streets, at their doors, somewhere that wasn't too obvious, anywhere they can easily be found, then leave. Simple stuff.

Lucius and I walked near the store fronts, slipping flyers under doors, pasting them on notice boards, dropping them in inconspicuous spots. As quiet as mice we worked.

I supposed Hoku would have been suspicious if we didn't do what we were supposed to do as rebels.

I wondered, if I weren't in my situation, whose side would I have taken? And which side was just? As much as I tried to avoid these thoughts, I couldn't just look past what I was doing. I had lied to the king, became his guard, went undercover to uproot a revolt led by someone who only wanted to protect people like me. But I had to, these thoughts were eating away at my conscience. If I was going to break, let it be later. Not now, when I had yet to accomplish what had put me on this path in the first place. I just needed to hold on as long as I could, and then I could fall. I don't even need to return to my family, I don't think I could. No matter which way I looked at it, I was in the wrong. And when you're in such a position you fall prey to your own judgement and there's no one as harsh and as loud as yourself. There's only so much more you can take before you tear yourself apart.

A clink sound dinned in the silence. I found Lucius gaze instantly. He was slipping some flyers under a bakery door when he flinched and looked to me. Another clink. He strode my way. We slipped into a nearby alley, holding our breaths and tucking ourselves into the shadows.

"...he's a joke," came the gravelly voice of a man.

"His majesty will handle it like he's handled the dozen other revolts," replied a woman.

"Well whatever happens, I ain't taking any sides, I've survived the war for a reason and it sure as hell wasn't to fight a rebellion."

The realization set in, they were knights and they were quite near. Lucius and I made no move to leave as we waited for them to get along. Their conversation took a turn and the man and woman began sharing gossip about other knights.

Lucius pointed to the low brick fence and put a finger against his lips. I nodded. We started towards the fence on our tippy-toes. He squatted, holding his hands out to me. I climbed onto his hands, hoping I wasn't too heavy and hefted myself onto the fence.

"Hey!" the man shouted. And there he stood before us, the woman he was talking to at his side.

"As knights of his majesty King Arthur, we order you to comply," the woman said carefully, reaching for her sword. "Don't move."

But Lucius did the opposite. He lifted himself over the fence swiftly, helped me down on the other side. And we bolted. Towards the woods we ran.

Far behind I heard the man and woman cursing at each other, their chainmail armor clinking as they ran. We were never to reveal our true identities until we were instructed to, unless it was truly necessary. After running from knights and surviving it seemed like a far cry from truly necessary.

"Stop!" the woman shouted. "Disobeying a royal guard is a crime!"

"When I get my hands on you brats," the man grunted.

"I'm warning you, go any further and I won't hold back," the woman heaved. She was too nice for her own good.

Lucius and I kept going, racing over the mini meadow and nearing the forest, when he disappeared behind me and reappeared on the other side, falling.

"Lucius!" I dropped to my knees. He took me by the hand and forced me to the ground. I fell face first into a patch of flowers just as something whistled past over my head. I flattened myself onto the ground, catching sight of an arrow jutting from Lucius's back and the black goo oozing from the wound. "You're hurt."

He began to crawl and I followed closely beside him. He motioned with a hand sliding forward, curving downwards and then running.

"A trench?"

He nodded.

"Look at what you've done!" The man growled angrily behind us. "Now we can't find them!"

"Oh hush," the woman grunted. "They're somewhere around here. I hit one, he's sure to be down."

Lucius and I continued, dragging ourselves forward by our arms, as quietly as we possibly could. Every now and then I'd peer at his injury, stifling the urge to ask if he was alright and make sure he was fine and get mad at him for getting hurt for me. I couldn't, not with knights on our heels. We reached the end of the meadow that dropped into the trench that bordered the forest. I slid down the slope and got to my feet. Lucius reached the forest floor and stood unsteadily, the pool of black blood dripping from the arrow and trickling down his back. I hesitated. He took me by the wrist and we continued our escape into the forest.

"Lucius it looks bad," I murmured. "The wound. Will you be alright?"

Without looking my way, he nodded. Lucius always looked at someone when he spoke.

"No." I stopped. He looked back at me. "They're nearing. They'll find us and I won't let you take my hits for me. Go, I'll hold them off."

I raised a hand to my throat. He snatched it swiftly and shook his head hastily. He tugged me forward, but I refused to move.

"Go to the wagon, go back to the forest," I begged.

A throaty sound emanated from him. Like someone with sick lungs, trying their very best to take a breath. He forced himself to speak.

"You don't have to," I murmured.

"Won't," Lucius coughed out. His voice low and rough. "Leave Mo."

With just three words he broke my heart. And I couldn't say no.

I gripped his hand and we pressed on. Lucius began to slow as his grip loosened. The black fluids didn't let up, they rushed out the wound and soon almost his whole back was hidden behind his blood. Any further and he'd fall. I circled an arm round his back and allowed him to lean on me. From limps to unsteady steps and he couldn't walk anymore. I willed myself not to tear. Instead I made myself believe that he'd be alright. But the warm blood sliding under my arm couldn't have demanded more of my attention.

When hope slowly depletes and you don't know who to ask for help, only then do you realize that you've been living life on a baseless faith in a better tomorrow. The only other time I begged like that was the night I lost my family. I wished with all my heart. And I pleaded with whoever was up there in the sky or whatever was above, to give me a sign.

This time the sign came in the form of a little hut, with glowing windows and a fuming chimney. I held Lucius up as I made for the hut's door. With my free hand I knocked twice and stepped back. Lucius was out cold. The longer I waited, the more my heart wrenched. And then it opened and an elderly man, leaning on a cane stood at the door.

"Please help," I pleaded.

a/n: thoughts? Also if Lucius spoke more often I imagine his voice to be like really deep, like Giveon's.