These People Are Torn - Chapter 10
Title: These People Are Torn
Rating: PG (because of violence)
Pairing: Belldom
Story Summary: Ever since the one he loved left him, Dominic Howard has been torn. In pure frustration and grief, he became one of the most skilled assassins in the land. But his next target brings up old memories; memories he's not sure if he wants to remember...
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Dom and Chris begin their rescue mission to save Matt from execution.
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Dom and Chris walked into the city, Chris looking nervous.
“Chris, walk more confidently. You’re stuck up and arrogant, remember?”
Chris stuck his chest out and pushed his shoulders back.
“That’s better.” Dom said, trying a similar stride.
Soon after they were met by a guard, who stopped them in their tracks.
“You,” he pointed to Dom. “Go and see that the guillotine is prepared.”
“Guillotine?” Chris said aloud, a look of horror in his eyes.
Dom shot him a warning glare.
“Yes, guillotine! It is easier than preparing the stake.” The guard explained impatiently.
“Where is it now?” Dom asked.
“Just go to the guard barracks, the executioner should be there.” The guard said to Dom, and turned to Chris. “And you, come with me for city watch.”
“See you later.” Dom said to Chris, and made his way down the street, while Chris followed the guard.
~
“Hold on,” the guard said, checking the contents of his pockets. “I have left my keys in the cells. Come.”
They turned back the way they came and arrived at building which made the hairs on the back of Chris’ neck prick. They stepped inside, and Chris followed the guard down the spiral steps.
They walked down the rows of cells, and Chris peered in each one, until he spotted Matt, who was sitting in the back corner of his cell, hugging his knees. Chris slowed when he walked past, and Matt looked up. His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak, but Chris pressed a finger to his lips.
“I have them!” The guard called. “Let’s go, quickly!”
~
Dom arrived outside the barracks, and stepped through the arched door of the tower. Inside was a well-built man, wearing a black cowl, hiding all his face except his eyes.
Dom cleared his throat.
“You hear to help?” the executioner growled.
“Yes, what do you want me to do?”
“Well, you can go and prepare the courtyard, while I sharpen the blade. Be quick with it.”
Dom entered deep thought for a moment, working out his plan.
“What are you doing? Go!” the executioner barked, and Dom left the tower quickly.
He stepped outside and scanned the area, making ground until he found another guard.
“You!” he pointed, in a voice of authority. “Set up the courtyard ready for the execution!”
“Yes sir.” The guard said, and hurried down the street.
Dom turned back to the tower. He pushed the door open slightly and looked inside. The executioner was sitting at a desk, the long blade in front of him, sharpening its edge. Dom stepped lightly inside and slowly unsheathed his dagger. He was feet away from the executioner, when he launched the blade into his back. The man cried out, and Dom grabbed his shoulder and pulled him onto the ground, shoving the blade into him again, this time, into his chest.
~
Chris climbed the stairs inside the east tower until his was on top of the city walls. He had a good view of the church and courtyard from there.
“How many are being executed today?” Chris asked.
“About thirty, or something like that. We’re finding more of them every day.” The guard said as casually as if talking about the price of bread.
“How long have you been a guard here?” Chris asked, trying to make conversation.
“What is with all the questions? Just do your shift.”
Chris overlooked the city, and spotted a group of people exiting the dungeons, led by several guards. The people looked starved and sick. They had to be the prisoners. Chris spotted Matt among them, thankfully not looking as bad as some of the others.
The prisoners were led to a wooden frame structure in the centre of the courtyard. A hooded figure approached the group, carrying a large metal blade, and as he stood the frame structure, he slid it into place, and the few planks of wood which before looked like nothing, now showed to be an instrument of brutal murder.
Where are you, Dom? Chris thought, panicking.
He didn’t know if he’d be able to do much from his place. He just hoped Dom had a sensible plan.