Midnight Charades

The Chase

Osman ran out the archway and out into the 21st century. A luxury few could afford. He took off towards the little dingy docked at the edge and climbed in clambering, trying his best not to tip it over. He settled down and began furtively rowing away. He had assumed his executioners would not have been able to follow him through, regrettably and with a prick of envy that the archway was not exclusive to him, he saw them faltering as to where they were a few feet away. One of them caught sight of him rowing away, and gave a shout. Osman prayed they would not follow after him, but was further distraught when they jumped in the water and began swimming after him, and at a record speed faster than he was rowing. Moving his arms furtively he questioned not for the first time, the immediate reason for all things, and least and not most importantly what was happening to him and why. I'm a prince, my brother is a Sultan, my existence is a threat to his throne, but his throne didn't exist here. Thought it, knew it, was tired of both hearing it and thinking it. 

The water lapped around, aside from his heavy rowing and the executioners practiced stroke the night was calm. His flight had broken that calm. Not that Osman noticed. He reached the other end as soon as the guards began to wrestle onto his dingy, he saw the two executioners who had ran across reaching him, he sprang up and swung the oar at those climbing on the boat and lunged onto the edge. He stumbled and took off running. He felt he wasn't moving fast enough yet he was running the fastest he ever had. He could feel his heart beating, his heart pumping, he could feel the exhilaration of the chase teeming off his executioners. 

He barreled towards the little port town he so often walked around.