Son Of A Bitch

fighting

The guard

"I cannot afford to be held up here, looking after some prince," I grumble. "People are dying right now - starving and being enslaved - and yet here I am, sitting on this couch. How am I supposed to do my job while I am held up here?"

"Don't be so apprehensive, Zachary," Amir responds, as he sits on the other end of the couch. "Martin will be back before you know it."

I let out an exasperated sigh. "I have thousands of allies who work with me every day, they share the same beliefs as I do. I should trust them."

"But I don't want them to get hurt," I shoot back.

Amir quickly counters, "They won't get hurt, Zachary."

But they will. They will see all those gruesome acts that I witness daily. None of this would have even occurred if it were not for the royal family. I have to catch my breath. I should not think about that. I get too angry, and the lord knows that is the one thing I cannot control.

"Many thanks, good Sir Amir, your encouragement does warm my heart," I replied with a curt bow. We shared a conspiratorial grin that broke into peals of laughter.

"Pray tell, hast thou spotted any parchment nearby?" Amir inquired.

"Methinks the Lord Alexios would have the answer to that," I chortled. "Yet, perchance above yonder hearth."

With a nod, Amir rose from his seat, grumbling unnecessarily under his breath. Curiously, he veered towards the cellar.

"Whither art thou bound, Amir?" I queried.

"The prince hath requested for some parchment," Amir answered, his voice barely audible.

"Have a care, good sir, for he holds no sway over us anymore," I reminded him. "He is naught but a mere mortal now, and his desires hold no power."

"Verily, he may grow weary," quoth Amir gravely, his voice echoing against the stone walls. "'Tis the burden of his kindness, ever fretting for the plight of others."

"Yield it to me," I proclaimed, snatching the parchment from his calloused grip. "I shall deliver it.""Art thou certain?" questioned Amir with a furrowed brow.

"Without doubt," I affirmed, brandishing the missive. "Return to thy rest whilst I stand watch."

Thou shouldst have seen the prince - he fancied himself a lord with the power to command. But I would not suffer such a brazen display of authority. Descending to the dungeons, I chanced upon him - trembling and pallid, grasping the iron bars like a ship caught in a tempest.

Then I looked into his eyes, and through them, I saw the countless souls that had suffered by his decree. His tawny locks fell upon his shoulders like a cascade, framing those deep, doe eyes - so like the very victims he had oppressed...