The Black Arrow

Chapter Two: Master Black Cat or Ginger Kitten

I awoke with the feeling of cold stone beneath me. My eyes instantly shot open. It was darker than the night sky. I could barely see a meter in front of me. Faint chatter could be heard not too far off in the distance. Bars surrounded me into a small cage that made me feel like a disobedient dog. The dust forced a cough in me as I lifted my body onto my knees. I tried to stand but felt a tug on my wrist hat pulled me back down. I looked to see a steal cuff squeezing onto me like a python on a mouse. A chain connected the cuff, and me, to the moldy stone walls. I attempted to slip my arm through the cuff but to no avail.

"Sorry new kid, that isn’t going to work." A voice my startled me.

"Who said that?" I snapped.

"Whoa, a little jumpy, are we?" A hand reached through the metal bars and rested on my left arm. I quickly brushed it off like a spider. My eyes followed the image to see a skinny bearded man. He smiled at me with the most nauseating crooked smile anyone had ever given me. The few teeth he had were black and rotting and you could probably smell his fishy breath from a block away.

"Welcome to the hall of chains. Only the most notorious and legendary criminals are sent here. I personally find it a compliment - like an award almost." He laughed, "I'm Theo. You look like you're barely out of school. What are you in for? Blow up a school because a teacher gave you detention?"

I blinked.

"Was I right?" He asked, "Was I? Talk to me, Carrot-top."

I shook my head.

"Are you mute?" Another voice said and another figure appeared from the shadows. The shadows from my cell.

I jumped onto my feet and the chain tugged me back onto the ground.

"Smooth." The figure said and a tiny young woman with ratty blonde hair sat on the ground next to me. She wore leather rags that seemed to perfectly accentuate every rib sticking out from her skinny body.

I scooted away from her and backed myself into the stone wall. She quickly followed and lifted my hand in her's.

"Me, oh, my," She tugged on the chain cuffing me to the wall. "What did you do to deserve this treatment? It looks like they were expecting you to escape."

"Looks to me like they got the wrong guy. This kid couldn't escape from an open box." Theo said.

The woman took my hand in her's and rest her other palm on my cheek, "You know, you're pretty handsome. What's your name?"

"Aila, stop hitting on the poor lad. He looks scared and he's probably twelve-years-old." Theo chuckled.

"I'm seventeen and I'm not afraid of anything." I pushed the girl, Aila, away.

"Eh, I was close enough." Theo said.

"So it talks!" Aila said excitedly and put her hand on my neck, "hey, what is this?"

"What?" I growled as she pulled on the string that held my arrow symbol out from under my shirt. "Hey, I recognize this."

Theo snatched the symbol from her and studied it intently in his hands, "Oh, so you're a fan of this guy. My brother used to wear a Black Arrow symbol too. Wouldn't it just be easier for you guys not to get caught though if you didn't have these things?"

"You wouldn't be sent to the hall of chains just for being a fan of the Black Arrow. What did you do, kid?" Aila asked.

"Nothing." I lied.

"Sure. And Aila didn't sneak into the castle and try to seduce the king's bastard!" A voice yelled from the distance.

"Shut up, he's really hot!" Aila giggled.

"You're an idiot." I told her.

Just then a small window of light appeared up the walkway. I could hear faint steps that got louder and louder partly because of the fact that they were getting closer, and partly because of the sudden silence that drained the room. A tall figure in a long brown cloak stepped up to my cell and knelt down. The hood fell over his face in a way that I could only see his chin. Impossible to identify.

Aila and Theo backed away.

The hooded figure stuck his arm through the bars towards me. His hand was wrapped in a black fabric; it looked like he wanted me to shake his hand.

I snarled at him.

He reached his other arm into the cell and unwrapped the black fabric from his palm to reveal a swirl with and arrow shooting through the center; the symbol of the Black Arrow. This person knew who I was.

"Sebastion." He stuck his hand through farther,

I shook my head and pressed my back farther up against the wall, which sent chills up and down my spine.

The figure reached underneath his cloak and pulled out something familiar. My satchel. I looked down at my waist - I hadn't even noticed it wasn't on me. He... or she... couldn't really tell... through it to my feet. I scrambled to snatch it and opened the clasp. Inside were three razors, my dagger, and a pile of poison gas marbles.

I looked up at him while I re-fastened me satchel around my waist, "Who are you?"

He lifted a single finger to his mouth before rapidly walking back out the door. Passed him walked two guards in the king's special uniform. The slammed open the door to my cell and stared in at me through their steal helmets. One walked over and knelt down beside me. He pulled a pair of keys from his pocket and they jangled as he stabbed them into the cuff.

This was my chance. The door was wide open and I could slip by these guards so easily. Their armor would no-doubt weigh them down and I had escaped from guards before. My eyes locked onto the opening and the moment I felt my arm claim freedom I slammed my elbow into the small spot of the guard's neck free of armor and bolted out the cell door. The second guard jumped at me just moments after I slipped by him. I could hear Theo laughing behind me as I reached the door. I jumped into the light but was then halted by a tall man with a trimmed brown beard, blue and gold cloak, and a crown upon his head that looked like it must've weighed forty pounds.

"Good evening, Sebastion Clauss."

I was brought into a small room centered around a large stone fireplace which made the whole room glow like magic. Red and green furniture was placed around the room as tacky as possible. Guards stood in a line along one wall and three continued pushing me forward. The king was closely followed by a young lad who couldn't have been more than a couple years older than I. My satchel was taken away from me just as fast as it had been given back. Luckily I was smart enough to sneak a few marbles out and stash them in the pocket of my pants.

"So you're the infamous Black Arrow." King Gruinn said as he was handed a gold goblet of wine by a servant. "Not going to lie, I had pictured someone a lot older and possibly someone who had been to prison before. Maybe someone with muscles. Or at least someone who had a name. Funny thing is that I found you haven't told anyone your real name in seven years. You killed your family as a child, and you have never even had a single friend."

Four guards shoved me to the ground. I rolled my eyes and sat on the fancy green rug beneath me; not like I had much of a choice in the matter.

"I always thought someone so famous would have someone standing in their corner. However, it seems the only people who like you are strangers." He passed me the goblet. I shook my head.

"So quiet and so uncertain." He sat on the floor in front of me. The fact that he knew so much information about me was blowing my mind. I hadn't told anyone anything about me in as long as I could remember.

"Sir, I don't think this -" A young man spoke but the king quickly cut him off.

"If you speak one more time I will have your head. You forget how unimportant your life is to me. I know what I am doing. And that goes for all of you." Gruinn hissed at his men before turning a bipolar smile to me. "I always thought I couldn't catch you because of your stealth, but the true reason is clear to me now. You're not stealthy, tough, or brave... you're just alone. You can't catch someone who doesn't exist. To be honest, I was starting to doubt your existence myself. I thought you were just a rumor."

"Maybe you should stop talking to yourself then," I grumbled.

He laughed, "Funny boy."

I leaned into him and whispered into his ear, "Look, let me cut you a deal. You let me leave now and I promise to never harm another being again in my life. But if you don't I will slaughter any person who gets in my way of leaving."

A guard clawed his fingers into my scalp and pulled my head back.

"Let him go." The king said, which they instantly responded. "Let's be honest with each other, kid. I make the deals here and I have one for you."

I glared at him.

"The throne of Firchek has been in my family for over 200 years. I would like to keep it that way, but my oracle has told me that one of my people will start a revolution and take my crown."

"Sounds like a good time."

"No. I'm not going to let that happen. The throne is to go to my son, Edward. If he dies before he has the chance to have his own son, the throne will go to his half-brother, Henry." He took a sip of his wine, "but the oracle predicted that within the next year some stupid harlot will be on the throne."

"Wouldn't it be more realistic to think that your son will have married this harlot and that's why she's on the throne?" I gave him a small view into common sense.

"My son was not in the picture. The oracle said he had visions of a riot and then visions of this girl on the throne."

"So you're killing an innocent girl over superstition?" I growled.

"Is it somehow any worse than what you've done?" His gold eyes shined as bright as his crown as he stared me down. "We both know you aren't the innocent young boy you look to be. You're a demon child. If I execute you now I have a serious doubt you will even bleed. I know everything there is to know about you Sebastion Clauss; don't doubt me. It may be too late to save yourself from the fury of hell, but you can sub-due your fate for just a little while longer if you do me this one favor."

"Why would a demon fear hell?" I said sarcastically.

The young man standing beside the king smiled. He was tall, with bright blue eyes and flowing blonde hair. Muscles bulged from a white shirt covered in a chain-mail vest; a sword attached firmly to his hip. The only thing he was missing was a white horse and some wind and he would probably be mistaken by every woman for prince charming.

"Simon, what are you laughing at?" The king scoffed at the young man.

The blonde boy - Simon, apparently, instantly cleared the smile from his face.

"Nothing, sir. The boy's disrespect for you is just a little too much for me to hold."

"Keep quiet and do your job," the king scolded. "Bring me the papers."

Simon nodded and quickly snatched a small stack of papers from the much-too-fancy-for-my-taste red chair before throwing them in front of me. They had been written all over with an ink quill which made the notes look more like random scribbles to me. This means that they didn't know everything about me; that was good. I squinted at what I believed to be words... or what I hoped were words.

"Is something wrong, child?" I heard the king say in a taunting voice, "Is there something the master savage would like to tell us?"

I said nothing. Just flipped through the pages until I came to a charcoal sketched picture of a young woman's face. Her hair curled down her back and over eyes which were kind of hard to depict the color of in an black and white sketch. She smiled friendly at the viewer with teeth so perfect it was easy to tell that she must have been from a wealthy family. Her face had been drawn so perfectly that he came off flawless; inhuman. I hated when artists did that. I was lucky that picture was there, though. From that I was able to make the reasonable assumption that the papers were notes and information on the target.

"I drew that," Simon spoke. His voice was nearly melodic. "Prettiest peasant girl I've ever seen to be honest. Kind of a shame."

I shrugged and threw down the photo.

"So what do you say?" The king asked, "Your freedom in exchange for one small life. After that I never want to hear whispers of your name drawing blood again. It's all I ask."

My eyes held his gaze tightly for as long as it took for me to reach down into my pocket and pull out one of the marbles from my pocket and dribble it under my fingers.

The room held nothing but silence as everyone awaited my response. You could cut the tension with a knife. Especially in my mind. I didn't want to kill again. Freedom sounded so appealing to me, though. Yet, I do not take orders from others. My choice would be mine alone. However, it would be the final death... and I would be free of my name. In reality though, the royal family could not be trusted. From what I've heard, all they do is lie to their people.

"One word. Just say one word." I heard Simon mutter.

I looked over at him. He nodded at me and I returned my gaze to the king.

"No." I dropped the marble to the ground and grey smog lifted from the stone almost instantaneously. I covered my nose and mouth with my sleeve and within seconds I was out the door. The guards in the castle were no wiser than those on the common streets and were easy to slip past. Seriously, who would let a death-row inmate out of his cell without shackles? Idiots.

Out into the hallways of the castle was like a maze. I ran back and forth like a terrified ant and with an awful case of ADHD trying to find freedom. Every room was another storage closet after another. I had run into almost 30 rooms before I found a small closet filled with boxes and one broken cabinet. More importantly, twice my height upwards was a small window leading to the outside world. Light shined through onto my face so bright I was almost blinded. Never in my life had I been so happy for my scrawny body.

I rapidly placed my foot on the second shelf of the cabinet and used all my power to shoot myself towards the light. Once reached, my hands gripped the windowsill with all their might and began pulling me up. That is, until a pair of hands grabbed my gut and ripped me down.

I toppled to the floor with a smash. Dust puffed up like smoke making me choke. The next thing I knew a sword was being held centimeters from my throat. I looked to see the tall blonde boy looking over me. He smirked as he backed me into the corner of the room.

"Sorry about this; I'm actually quite a fan." Simon said as he dug the blade lightly into my chin. "Or at least I was when I heard all these stories about a master black cat with the stealth to escape every guard who dared question him. However, you're more like a ginger kitten just learning to walk. I'm starting to regret giving you your bag back."

"That was you?" I asked, doing my best to maintain my cool.

He nodded. "Can you please put some effort into this? It's never any fun when they don't fight back."

I took a deep breath. This guy was quick. Fighting was never quite my area of expertise; running was. Fighting causes a ruckus and I was doing my best to never be seen. Fighting was rarely an option for me unless an emergency presented itself. I had a feeling that fighting this Simon person though probably wouldn't be the brightest move. In fact, it would most likely be my last move.

"Simon..." I coaxed.

He broke out laughing, "Oh, this should be good. Yes, Sebastion? Would you like a glass of milk to calm your nerves?"

"I know you don't believe in the king and this...whatever this is..."

"Is that so?" There was enough sass in his voice that he could easily be mistaken for a woman.

"You smiled at my comment earlier while the other guards grunted."

"True. I am also no guard. I am the king's tracker."

"Meaning?"

"Light conversation, now?" Simon knelt down and twisted the blade, sending shivers up my spine. "It means the king tells me to go get something and I get it no matter what it is. You're not very bright, are you?"

When the sword hit a perfect tilt I used my forearm to push the sword out from under my chin. "So basically you're the king's bitch? No wonder you look so much like a woman."

"Wow, a little sexist, are we?" He again broke out into laughter, "Okay, I like you a little more now. You're a funny one. Pretty brave, too. I respect that. However, I've probably had more women in the past three days than you've had in your entire lifetime. The bitch look must be working for me."

"If you like me so much than maybe you should just let me go." I said jokingly, unprepared for his response.

"You know what? Sure." He grabbed onto my arm and pulled me to my feet. "There's the window. Go now. I'll tell the king you escaped."

I froze; completely dumbfounded. There was no way this guy was serious.

"This is a trick." I stated hands-down.

"No trick." He stabbed his sword into the dusty floor and twiddled with the handle. "However, the king does now know your face which will be distributed across the country as well as the countries around us. Everyone would know who you are. No escaping that fate. I can only imagine how atrocious existence would be with every person alive soon knowing your face. That you're the one who killed their families, friends, co-workers. Partners. Parents. Children. Oh, parents become savage when a person hurts their child."

"I've never killed a child." I said.

He shrugged, "everyone is somebody's child. Age is only a number.

A pit lodged itself in my throat. He was right. The only reason I managed to go on living before was because my identity was a secret. If the world were to know... I wouldn't last a minute in society. The amount of people whose loved-ones I'd taken away for shallow coin, the minds of parents and children I had torn apart... I had no chance and Simon knew that. The king did too.

"Don't give me that look. It's as if I am putting you through torture. My sword is down." He turned his back, "Then there is always the case of your mother... another woman who'd be furious if her child was to be killed."

"My mother is dead!" I snapped.

He tilted his head to look back at me, "you so sure about that?"

I began to shake. Who was this guy and how did he know about my mother?

He smiled his charming smile, "I can take you to her if you say yes."