A Game of Colours

Chapter 25: Just Pretend

My eyes widen, as the end of Marianna's plan hits me. Too late. The inn comes into view, with a few officers on horses, waiting to arrest me.

It's too late to run now, and I am only thankful that Isaac did not join me. Atleast one of us is free. 

"Sorry," she whispers to me, a small smile playing on her face as she slows the horse.

*        *        *

"How could you?" I hiss, my body shaking as I try to fight back my tears, "I trusted you!"

"Perhaps how ye could trust me is a better question," she muses, "it wasn't hard, really. Ye were so full of yer love fer someone ye barely knew, ye led yerself right to me. It's a right shame I couldn't get yer friend too, though I'm sure we'll find him in time."

"You'll pay for this!" I growl, as the officers bind my hands.

"No, the slave traders will be paying for you, not I," she laughs, "my, how you dense you slaves can be!"

She turns to the chief. "Now, release the boy as promised."

He looks her right in the eye. "I was promised two slaves. Besides, I oughta be arresting you too, since you were hiding a fugitive in the first place. I'm letting you off easy, girl, now be gone! The deal's off." 

"Off? Why you insolent--"

"Shut her up, someone! And get the boy from the barn and put him on a horse, we're taking these two to county jail."

I watch Marianna escorted away by police, and feel a grim satisfaction. If I burn, she burns with me.

A few moments later, an officer comes running out of the barn with a confused look on his face.

"He's gone," he whispers. 

"Gone?" yells the chief, "he was tied to a wall--how gone can he be?"

"The rope's cut, sir."

"Cut? How? Did you check him for weapons before you tied him up?"

The officer flushes bright red, and his eyes become very fascinated with the floor. 

"I'm surrounded by imbeciles!" yells the chief, "find the boy! He's got a heavy fine to pay on his arrest!"

My heart floods with joy. Of course Jarrah escaped. I was foolish to believe he'd give up without a fight. 

I watch the rest of the officers run off towards the ravine, calling out in vain. Only the chief and me remain. He paces angrily around the barn, and I watch him bemused out of the corner of my eye. His face is all red, and his temples are pulsing. He fiddles with his hands and mutters under his breath all sorts of profanities. Minutes later, and the officers still haven't returned. He's quickly losing his temper.

"Jarrah Whitley, you are under arrest! Come back immediately or so face charges!" he yells.

"Right away, sir!" 

A blow to his head, and the chief falls to the ground. I look up in awe to see Jarrah standing there, a little dirty but otherwise unharmed. 

"You came back!" we say in unison, and he quickly grabs me into his arms. I embrace his musky, warm scent, my hands running through his sandy hair, never wanting to let go.

"I'm so sorry," I say, "I should've just trusted you. I shouldn't have left. I didn't--"

He grabs my hands in his, and shakes his head. "No apologies."

I smile wholeheartedly, for the first in a long time. Jarrah pulls out a knife and cuts the ropes on my wrists. 

"We gotta go. Now," says Jarrah, lacing his fingers through mine and leading the way. He starts running when I tug him back.