Slumber Beneath the Elm | Teen Ink

Slumber Beneath the Elm

March 7, 2016
By Emperor476 BRONZE, Atascadero, California
Emperor476 BRONZE, Atascadero, California
4 articles 0 photos 0 comments

And so with great dismay he did ride. Blood sodden linen clung to his body like a second skin. Beneath him his horse labored on, wounds raked across its’ left side. In the distance were the shouts and hoofbeats of the city guard. He snapped the reigns and leaned into the sweat and dust laden mane of his midnight gelding. The lights of the city gates began to dim in the distance and he could see the lanterns of the guardsmen turn west and vanish behind shallow hills.
    He pushed southward until the moon fell low and the sky turned from jet to a deep blue etched with gold. The road was devoid of all life save the occasional fly and an old, beaten elm whose roots had cut their way across the travel worn road. He brought his mount to a stop and flung himself to the ground. His heart thumped rhythmically in his chest, he looked to his left to find Bastian in much the same state. He laid his head back and ran his hand across his body. There were no wounds to speak of aside from a thin slice spanning the width of his arm. He could rest easy knowing that it wasn’t his blood that had ruined his clothes.
    The sun crept higher into the sky and he thought it time to prepare to ride. From his satchel he took a brush and went to work at cleaning Bastian. He has had his friend for the past six years, since he was born, and enjoyed quite the adventurous life with him. But, this most recent escapade has most assuredly cemented them as the world’s best. Never has a duo worked so elegantly together. They made their way into the city hidden beneath heavy cloak and crowded streets. The guards positioned around the Baron’s manor were forced away when a riot broke out in the streets. It’s a wonder what a handful of coins will do to a crowd of underpaid craftsmen and farmers. He slipped away into the shadows and across the Baron’s yard. He found his target a few yards away, the third story window of the north wall adjacent to the sterling fountain, just as the instructions had said. The stone building provided ample purchase for his ascend. When he came to the window he found it unlatched, as the instructions had assured. To his right was the Baron and his wife, sleeping heavily atop a canopied bed. He sailed his way across the flow careful not to make a sound. When he came to the ornate dresser banded in silver he slid open the fourth drawer and emptied its contents. As the instructions had said the drawer had the Baroness’ finest jewels, including her gold circlet set with ruby and emerald. With the desired pieces safely stowed into his satchel he turned to make his way back out the window. Before he could take another step his eyes caught something that stood to about his waist. The child had large green eyes, eyes that seemed much too large for their face, and black hair with a streak of white. His calm was stolen away by panic when the small child broke into a scream for their “Papa”. The Baron and Baroness jumped from their bed and he could hear heavy footsteps coming from the hallway. Knowing he had no other choice he stepped past the child and vaulted from the window. He was fortunate to have done studied the yard before climbing through the window. He landed himself inside the Barons intricate topiary and managed to avoid any serious injury. He rolled from the perennial knight and onto the cobblestone walkway. His long strides carried him to the manor’s outerwall and with one panic induced jump he caught the edge of the wall and pulled himself over. The mob had seemed to disperse but the streets now echoed with the sound of the alarm bells. He sprinted across the stone path towards where he had placed Bastian. His run brought him down a narrow road blocked by five guards. Instead of stop he picked up speed and slid between the first guards legs. He brought with him the man’s sword. With the quickness and ease only found in a practiced action he sliced through the five men like a farmer would slash wheat.
    A few steps away he found his gelding and pulled himself on top of him. He snapped the reins and steered Bastian towards the city’s gates. All around him he could see guardsmen searching the city and townspeople being questioned. They reached the gate without incidence but were immediately stopped by the men watching the gate. The guardsmen examined his papers and gave the word to open the gate. While handing them back the guard’s mouth fell open and he screamed for men to restrain them. Bastian reared up and pushed past the men. His blood soaked clothes must have alerted the guard, he knew he should have pulled his cloak tighter. Before they were through the gates he saw a flash of metal and heard Bastian let loose a scream of pain. A guard’s halberd had found Bastian on his left side. He put his head to Bastian’s and told him all would be okay so long as they made it away from the city. His horse seemingly knowing what he had said pushed itself forward and galloped strong and hard south and away from the city.
    He put the brush down and examined his good friend’s wound. The cut was long but shallow and would heal as long as he cleaned and wrapped it. He produced a flask and roll of bandages. It seemed they would live to fight another day he thought to himself while finishing the wrapping of the wound. Now it was time to prepare to finish the contract. He pulled his satchel to him and took from it the paper with his instructions. Written in curved letters at the bottom were his final instructions, “ If you have managed to make it out of Cradesford alive and with the agreed upon goods then I must commend you on your skill and perseverance. The Baron’s hold is one that is well defended and his men are strong in their protection of it. But, it does pain me to say that this is where our dealings must end, it would not look well to be associated with a thief such as yourself, skilled or otherwise. So, this is goodbye then, and I do hope you do not mind resting beneath an elm.” He was so engrossed in those final lines that he did not hear the men come up behind him. Nor did he hear the tightening of the bow string. And he most certainly did not see the arrow trained on his neck.



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