Once upon a deception

The red eyed lamb

“That is because you are mad.” Lord Vincent retorted. What he had feared happened nonetheless. The burden of just knowing that fact troubled him. He gave a sigh and continued walking.

 Not having it, Clarisse stepped out of the hut, following his trail sharply. She was dead set on making her opinion valid. A trait the Lord fancied but not at the moment.

“Why? Is that not what some might term favoritism?” She said, rolling her eyes and quite confident. If everyone wasn’t so caught up in dealing with the aftermath of the raid.

Lord Vincent frowned. “It is not about favoritism Clarisse and you very much know it. Let us face it. Do you really want to give yourself up as a spy because you are selfless and just want s*****y abolished.” Even before Clarisse could answer, Lord Vincent gave himself a reply to his question. “Do not deny it. We both know you are seeing this as a ticket to revenge against the king for the horrible things you had to go through. But this is not about you. So we end this conversation here and we never speak about it again.”

 Clarisse stopped chasing after him, hoping he did not see how badly his words had hurt her.

“If you don’t want tongues wagging about the letter, You should not have left it lying on the ground of the Healer’s.” She said in a bid to annoy him.

 The lord said a curse word under his breath and faced her, grudgingly heading back to the Healer’s hut to retrieve the letter. Clarisse looked at the miserable creature who was bent on keeping the role of her godfather to death. He was blond, long hair tied to a bun, a dashing jawline if one missed the gaping scar in between his cleft chin. Dashing but not bard worthy. She still had more to say. She just could not let the opportunity go. At the moment, It was everything she wanted. As Vincent brushed past her, She chimed in one last thing.

“Do you think the superiors will keep on supporting us if we don’t sacrifice at least something for the cause?”

 Lord Vincent spared her a look and taking a vow of silence, He continued walking. When he was back in the hut, Clarisse brought forth the dagger she now considered an heirloom. Vincent might believe she was selfish and reckless but for her, The king was not her target. He was never the one who sent her life spiraling backward for as long as she could remember. The name was Barre. What went behind the name was a mystery but Clarisse could not forget that house, Her father. It was a well-kept secret. Something even Lord Vincent had no idea about. That man, her father was the bane of her existence, The reason she was born, the cause of her mother’s death, and the execution of the kind couple that saved her from being lynched. Her eyes narrowed on the initials on the blade. It wasn’t shallow of her. This was her vendetta and Clarisse was willing to walk the hottest part of hell to see it materialize.

***

 Lord Vincent bent over, picking up the crumpled piece of paper and bringing himself to straighten it out. He leaned against the back of a straw couch while he straightened the paper. This was Malachi’s doing. He was a big sponsor of the raids and true to what Clarisse was saying If the man did not get what he wanted. It might as well be the end for the raids and even every rescued slave in the haven he was sectored in. For as long as Vincent had known. Most of the sponsors were not genuinely interested in the cause. Nobles were mostly in it for the money and something they ha said during the last meeting truly terrified Vincent. In a quote, It was, “There is nothing more powerful than a slave with something to die for.”

 When he joined the cause, It was not for the profit. He genuinely wanted the freedom of innocent life to be ruined for the economic gain of Wohar. Now Vincent saw himself as another trapped fellow in the deadly chess of the nobles. What frightened him more was the enamor Clarisse had for the absurdity of a plan. He had promised to protect her. Now, The lord was worried, he might have to watch another person he loved be pawned into a dangerous royal affair. Reluctantly, Vincent felt his fingers through the straightened paper. It was thick and most of it felt uneven. Vincent knew all too well what that meant. He found a side that did not fit so well and immediately began to pull it aside. The paper gave way, revealing that there was more to read under the vague on atop it. It read;

“We give you three moons to get a lamb. Failure to keep your side of the bargain might end ugly”

 Ironically, Malachi penned it.