Borrowed Time

Chapter 23

Dashing around Hunter in his split second of comprehension Marcella runs as far away from the screeching yells as possible. She weaves quickly between the screaming crowd who clear the middle of the street for the charging horses. A tight grip pulls her body backwards as her nimble fingers unclasp the hook around her neck sending the cloak drifting into Hunter's face.

Whispering curses to the advancing soldiers her attention suddenly shifts violently as she loses sight of Hunter and his horse. Whipping her head forwards, she jumps over a wall of wooden crates, ignoring the crashing sound of splinters flying in the air.

Smiling in satisfaction to the distance she was able to create her eyes widen and heart pounds out of her chest at the harsh shriek of Hunter's horse blocking her path. Sword drawn out neither of them have the capacity to surrender as Marcella continues to charge towards his blade.

They share the same determined fire in their face as Marcella mimics the cocky smirk slowly fading from Hunter's face as she slides to the ground under his sword on her knees. Dumbfounded by her slick manoeuvres he huffs smoke out from his nose, pulling tightly on the reins and kicking the side of his horse to chase Marcella once more.

The soles of her shoes scrape along the dry dirt floor, now worn down paper thin, halting in her stead to a sharp edge millimetres from her neck. She gulps heavily feeling the cold metal scrape the surface of her throat and shifts her gaze to the rows of people kneeling on the ground along the side of the road.

Bricks of realisation hits when herds of horses stop right behind Marcella's tense body sending a dust cloud into her lungs. The harsh blade stays unnaturally still near her skin restricting her from clearing the dirt constricting her airways.

"Your Majesty" all the soldiers call out followed by an echo from the surrounding townspeople.

"Take her"

Marcella's eyes strike open to the low scratchy voice coming from the face of her brother as he disregards her presence and continues to ride straight passed her leaving her paralysed in place. Hunter now appears blocking her sight from her brother's disappearing shadow, reprimanding her arms in tightly knotted ropes and chains.

Dragged to the palace she once called home the guards throw her relentlessly into the basement cells drenched in mould, urine, and rodent droppings. The strength of her legs fall limp as she clasps onto the metal bars for balance only to scream in pain when a guard stomps heavily on the ends of her fingers.

"Such a pretty face and body," says a man missing a few teeth with his grimy hand gripping hard on Marcy's face, pulling it squished up against the bars, "let me guess, whore?"

"She attacked a soldier and ran" a younger male approaches with the same filthy demeanour.

"Too bad, you could make a lot with those looks, maybe consider it while you're in here" he whispers sultry before throwing her head back harshly.

"You almost got caught the last time you touched one of the prisoners"

"That's because you weren't here to keep lookout"

"Well, you can't right now either, we are on gate duty"

The older male groans dissatisfied as he takes one last look at Marcella before trailing behind the younger up the spiral stone steps. Infuriation combusts inside her cell rattling the chains around her wrists and the solid walls caging her in.

"Hello?" A shaky voice suddenly appears making Marcy jump slightly, "You shouldn't exhaust yourself more, there's no use"

Marcella huffs in defeat sliding her back down the wall separating her and the stranger with her chin resting on her folded arms.