The man left an imprint in Delilah's mind as she watched where he disappeared into the protest. She remained entranced until fingers clamped around her forearm and she was dragged around to face her guard. His eyes widened, realizing she was still there and a riot was forming behind her.
Colourful language burst from his lips. Jonnie gathered his hat and the letter and slumped his feet back to the floor. "Who was that?" It was now or never. Too many things were happening around her. Too many things she knew nothing about.
"A friend." His hand was back on her arm and he pulled her towards the wall leading to the exit. Her stick hardly met the sticky floor as they moved. "What is that?" Delilah reached for the letter, only for Jonnie to stop her while pressing her against the same wall they walked along. A glass shattered against a picture frame next to them. Beneath his arms that sheltered her, Delilah glanced passed Jonnie's face to see a fight starting. Two groups of men collided with fists and chairs and glasses. Snarling at one another.
At the centre of it all stood the preacher, hunched over in laughter, judging the battle before him. "Ye wha follow blindly are lost. Ye cannot defeat us wha reach for freedom!" He kicked more glasses to the floor and threw some into the foray. Delilah's breath gathered in her throat.
"We need to go." Her curiosity had died, slinked away, and decayed as blood splattered from one brawler's mouth. A nod was all she could muster while remorse and nauseous took the reins of her existence. Loyal men, poor and forgotten, were fighting the preacher and his men. Bleeding to protect her name.
Delilah let Jonnie lead her out. One stumble at a time.
---
Once they were far enough away from The White Hare, Delilah rested against a broken fence. Above, the night was dotted with white. Occasional stars blinked down onto the alley.
Jonnie, still too intoxicated, hunched over beside her, relying on the fence to aid his balance. One hand was on the wood, the other gripped the letter. She had so many questions, so many answers she needed. Who was that man? What was the letter? She craved the answers that her companion was in no state to supply.
Was it really for him? She caught glimpses of its front. Letters written in cursive were too small and blurry for her tired eyes to read. The way they joined together just caused them to mush.
Her guard's panting slowed. Softened with each inhale. Soon enough, he was standing without the fence's support and he lifted the letter to the rays of light that peered over the surrounding roofs. The lettering was no longer facing her, rather, the back was on full display. It was completely empty, except for the black wax sealing the envelope. A bird was imprinted into it - shot through with an arrow.
Delilah furrowed her brows. She had never seen the insignia before. "What is..." Opposite her, Jonnie sobered instantly. His tan skin paled, stopping her question in its tracks. Distress lined every edge of his face and his blood vanished from the fingers that clenched the letter in his hand.
Jonnie looked at her and then dropped the envelope to the ground, grinding it with his foot.
He then stamped and stamped and stamped onto it. Her pulse raised and splintered at the spurt of violence. Delilah clasped her hands together on her stick, an attempt at comfort while Jonnie recollected himself.
"Let's go."
YOU ARE READING
A Bullet Or Two
FantasíaWhat would you do if everything you were destined to have was taken away? Delilah Franklyn, the dutiful step-daughter to the Baron of Farhilm, was raised to take his role. Moulded to lead the prosperous East Quarter. Yet when responsibility falls in...
