A Simple Day of Heroic Deeds

The rope was burning my wrists. Trying to escape was obviously not working. With every careful twist to get my hands free, the rope only sunk deeper and deeper into my skin. Gritting my teeth, I decided to just to put my faith in the air and see what happened. Besides, if I did manage to break myself free, there were two guards staring right at me and armed to fight. I could see blood dripping on the ground. With tortured hands I would be no match for two guards.

So instead I waited.

Enduring the smell of urine and sweat, I looked around, deciding to look for secret doors or hiding places in case I ever came back here again. There were two doors, side by side, but apart from that nowhere to hide. It was a large square room, completely empty except for a window and the chair I was sitting on. The guards stood on either side of the doors, both dressed in large brown uniform and evidently as miserable as I was. One’s eyes were closed. I suspected he was about to sleep.

“Hey,” the other guard poked him.

“Alright, alright. I was just restin’ my eyes man,” the first said with a thick Scottish accent.

They turned to me and stared angrily. They had every right to be that way, although I can’t see what other job they would have found more enjoyable then simply watching a girl didn’t escape from the castle. Surely their work as guards couldn’t have been that exciting.

I turned away from their evil gazes and continued looking around. There was nothing to look at or to take note of. The entire room was simple and bare.

The sound of footsteps appeared, coming closer to the door. My heart started pounding, almost clawing at my chest to get out. A smirk appeared on my lips, my eye sight going blurry from tears. It had been long enough.

The smiles on the guards faces puzzled me. Then i realised.

As the door opened my smile vanished, my eyes going teary for the opposite reasons. I shut my eyes forcefully and tried to maintain a strong persona. I wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of saying how soft women were. If anything I was strong. I was brave.

But I couldn’t fight.

My hands violently struggled against the ropes that were wrapped around them, but I could do nothing except gasp from the pain as my hands fell weaker and weaker from the loss of blood escaping from my wrists. Unbeknown to me, razor sharp pins had been attached to the rope, sinking into my skin with every movement I made.

The shadowed man in the door walked forward and into the centre of the room, the light from the window showing me his face and the rusted blade he was holding. He was bald, thin and strangely good looking, except for the yellow teeth and dirty nails.

“Hello little lady.”

He took another step and crouched down in front of me. I tried to kick him where I knew it would hurt but before my feet even lifted from the floor his hands held them down. As quickly as I thought to attack him, his hands defended himself even quicker. The blade in his one hand slide across my right leg with such force the blunt blade pierced into leg, quickly drawing blood. I held in my scream. My heart was trying to claw its way out of my chest. My hands moved in the shock of the blade, creating unbearable pain from both ends of my body.

“Whoops. I’m sorry.” He raised his eyebrow, making sure I wouldn’t do it again. It was too painful to even think about trying it again. The man stood up, walking to my side and showing me the blade.

“But it’s my job, you see. I’m only doing it for the good of the people. For the people you think you’re trying to save, in your delusional head.” He stroked my hair. I couldn’t move. All I could feel was the pain. “I’m just doing this to get some information out of you darling.”

He took the blade and placed it down onto my chest.

“Just tell me who corrupted your mind sweetheart.” He leant in and whispered in my ear. The blade slowly moved up, never taken off my skin, to my cheek. “Tell me who’s the boss. You don’t need your pretty little face to get ruined.”

I could hardly hear him, my heart was pounding in my ears. Play it cool, play it cool, I told myself. I needed to be calm.

The man was waiting for me to respond. I took a deep breath, feeling his own against my face.

“Go to hell.”

There was silence. He burst out laughing. The guards looked at each other, both confused and terrified.

“Okay then, the hard way it is.”

His face changed. What was once playful became hard and nasty. I could feel how the blade was held. It went from limp to a firm hold. Biting my lips, I closed my eyes for the torture that were only moments away.

The blade went deeper and deeper into my cheek.

“Isn’t it better with a blunt blade,” he snarled.

At this moment I was terrified.

My face felt like it was on fire. I wanted to die and be put out of my misery. I could hear the sound as my skin ripped open and blood spilt out down my cheek and dripping onto my lap. There was no way I could hold this in any longer. I closed my eyes and screamed.

And so did the man.

My eyes opened, surprised. I first saw the unconscious guards on the floor, then Allan holding the guy with his own sharper and shinier blade pointed right at his throat. The rusted blade had fallen to the ground. Both their eyes were wild, with Allan looking painfully in my direction.

“Give me one good reason you shouldn’t die.”

Allan thrust the knife deeper into his throat. The man screamed again, more in shock than in pain.

“I won’t tell anyone, I promise! Just leave, escape and I’ll say nothing. Please.”

Allan looked at me. I nodded.

“Stand in the corner over there. Now.”

The man obeyed Allan, holding his hands up in surrender and walking to the corner. When he had obeyed, Allan rushed over to me and took off the ropes.

“S**t Lydia.” He dropped them and helped me stand up. Blood covered my wrists and my hands, with cuts and scratches everywhere. The evident proof suddenly made the pain worse, but with company I tried to ignore it and play it down.

Allan wrapped his arms around me, gripping me tight and giving me the comfort and sense of security that I needed only minutes before.

When he pulled back he looked straight into my eyes.

“Are you okay? Do you need a doctor?”

I shook my head. “I’m fine. I just need something to stop the bleeding.”

He looked at me curiously. Then he nodded. Allan’s concerned face always broke my heart. He always looked defeated, his light brown hair and captivating blue eyes no longer portraying him in his usual cocky and playful character. I tried to be light hearted.

“You took you time. Where were you, having tea with the Sheriff?”

He smiled.

“I’m sorry. It took longer than expected.”

I looked back at the man to make sure he couldn’t overhear, then back to Allan.

“And everything’s done, right? Joe’s sorted everything?”

“Yeah, it’s all done. Come on, we haven’t got much time.”

He took my hand and we ran, leaving the guards asleep and the man in the corner. We both knew he wouldn’t stay in the corner for long. As soon as we left the room he would come chasing down a guard or the Sheriff to kill us. It was his disadvantage that the guards themselves didn’t know the hiding places and escape routes to the castle. Their jobs were to protect and defend, but there was no light in their eyes. They weren’t sufficient, they didn’t need to know or do anything that wasn’t a part of their job description. They would rather lose an escaped villain than be at risk of death by trying to be the hero and catch them.

Allan led me to the forest, across a bridge and down roads until we came to our town. Our house, a small cottage isolated from the others, was waiting for us with beds and food and rags to help my wounds.

Before we reached our home I turned to Allan.

“Someday we’re going to die helping Joe.”

He frowned, his grip becoming weaker. I kept talking.

“But I’d rather be his sidekick. I’d rather die an honest death.”

His gaze turned to the floor. When he looked up he kissed my cheek.

“You’re my best friend. You’re not going to die at all. I won’t let that happen.”

I could tell he was trying to reassure us both, so I nodded and smiled.

“Come on then. Let’s see what they’ve found.”

Taking his hand, we walked forwards towards the house. His feet moved slower with each step. We stopped again, this time with me looking concerned.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get there in time.”

He was looking at my cheek. My hand instinctively touched it, the wound inflicting me with pain at the touch.

“Look,” I took both his hands forcefully. He looked up, confused at my forcefulness. “We’re the sidekicks. It’s our job to make Joe look good. He couldn’t do all this without us. Now,” I smiled, “Come on, let’s find out what all this was for.”