Heart Of Iron: Praecordia Ferri [ON HOLD]

Five - Presence of Malice

Short chapter today, thank you for reading!

Dedicated to LB_JADE because I love her very relatable (for me) story - The Mathematics of Love

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Chapter 5

Calais, France

Shadows shifted in a window two storeys above ground and a dark gaze scoured the goings-on below. A sigh drifted from the empty recesses of the room. Always watching, that was his mission. He had had better luck yesterday; there was a boy, no more than five, who warmed his own under-fed body by lighting the remains of a cat in a gutter with neither a flint nor match. Purely from gazing at it. The shadow glanced at the bedside table. On it was a casket of numerous phials, each containing dark-red liquid. One of those was the boy’s life source; not that there was much to live with anymore.   

He looked back out of the cream panes and vanished with a whisper.

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Below, he hid in the shade of an alley and watched the crowds slip by – nothing out of the norm yet, he thought: a homeless man drunken on a seat by the shore, several beggar-children rushing to the new arrivals on a ship from England, a young mother fussing over her twins, who had suspicious brown marks on their faces, and one of them pointed at a nearby pile of merde. A scruffy-haired girl began pushing towards the departing passengers, already targeting a group of four. Aristocrats, evidently, with their fine clothing and bewildered expressions.

Brave fools, he thought. Not many rich bastards would be roaming the streets of France, considering the revolutions gathering momentum. He raised one thick eyebrow as the girl, a beggar, attempted to pick-pocket the blonde lady of the group, rapidly feeling around her skirt-folds. To his astonishment, the lady quickly snatched up the wandering hand. He watched as her stern look softened as she crouched down and gifted the child with a few francs. A dark-haired companion of hers tensed and cocked his head in the café’s direction. The hidden one focused on him until he relaxed again and smiled down at the child. Interesting.

Curiosity peaked for the man in the shadows, he followed the group’s every move with his eyes and they turned a corner, thus were out of his line of sight. Such kindness was unusual, especially amongst the elite. Perhaps it was a form of condescension. He considered following them for a moment, if not for the strange reaction of the companion, but reconsidered when saw the same beggar-girl glow with happiness. Literally. Her eyes glowed a blue so bright he could see the francs reflecting the shine.

A sly grin stretched across his face and he made his way towards her, surgical needle and knife ready in his pocket. 

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