The Insurgency

Chapter 5

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Delilah was pulled out of the carriage and taken to the magistrate's office. The burly soldiers dragged her in by her hair. Delilah's eyes blurred with tears at the excruciating pain implied on her head.

"Please, let me go." she pleaded but the guards did not respond back and rather tugged at her hair harshly making her cry out in pain.

Reaching the magistrate's cabin, they knocked on the door and a deep, gruff voice commanded them to come in.

Delilah shivered in her spot, scared about what would happen to her now. As soon as they entered the cabin, Delilah was thrown down mercilessly on the ground by the guard.

"What is the matter?" she heard the magistrate speak.

"Sire, this mere girl, she dared to interfere when we, the royal guards were doing our duties. She had the audacity to try stopping us when we executed the orders given-"

Delilah cut him off instantly with a sharp voice, still on the ground, "You were beating a man brutally! I stopped you from that!"

A loud thump echoed in the surroundings and Delilah's head whipped to the side. Pain bloomed on her right cheek a few moments later. Touching her bruised cheek with a trembling hand, Delilah let out a sob.

"You dare speak without being told to do so, you wretched peasant!" the guard bellowed.

"Now, now soldier." she heard the magistrate speak and for the first time she looked up to see his face.

With wrinkled face and baggy eyes, the magistrate was an old man, his bald head yet another proof of his old age. He looked down at Delilah with disinterest and then moved his gaze towards the guard.

"I do not know what is the whole hustle about. Why bother me when you can simply let the peasant rot in jail? Go, take her with you. I have many important matters to handle."

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Tears had long dried away. She now sat back silently, in a secluded corner of the cell they had flung her in.

It had been two days since she was here. Worry was eating her alive, she did not know what possibly could be done now to get out of this mess.

While she was deep in her thoughts, a guard entered the cell.

"Get up." he gruffly commanded.

"Are they setting me free?" she asked, her voice hoarse after weeping for two days. The guard did not say anything.

She was, this time, dragged by the soldier to the opposite side of the building. The dimly lit hallway made Delilah squirm.

"Where are you taking me?" she whispered.

He did not reply.

They stopped in front of a giant wooden door. The guard knocked the door, waiting to be called in.

A voice, much younger, much sultry, much authoritative than the magistrates came from behind the closed doors.

"Come in."

Delilah gulped as the doors opened and stepped into the room. The magistrate was already sitting there on a plush red chair, sipping a drink and the two guards who had whipped
Mr Morkel were kneeling down.

Soon, she was too made to kneel down in front of the magistrate. The guard who brought her here left the room with a bow.

"Is this the one?" a stoic voice asked from behind her, making the hair on her skin raise in alert.

"Yes, sire. She is the one." one of the guards spoke up.

"Unbelievable." the man murmured.

"Why were you whipping the man, again?" he asked them.

"Sire, he had tried breaking into the central monastery late at night. God only knows, out of what intentions."

Delilah sharply inhaled and before she could think, the words flew out of her mouth, "They took away his daughter."

"Do not speak unless spoken to, woman!" the magistrate seethed from his position, "And as for being taken away to the monastery, remember that she now belongs to the church."

Delilah could not bite her tongue as she blurted out, "She is no toy."

"Leave, all of you." the man behind her suddenly commanded.

No sooner did he commanded, everyone along with the magistrate rushed out of the room. This assured her that the man behind her was a man of authority.

A hand grasped her forearm and pulled her up. Delilah gasped as she was spun around and she met the sight of a handsome, tan skinned young man, dressed eloquently in a black trench coat and pant. His raven hair pulled back in a pony and a single strand of hair was left to dangle freely on his face, "Do I smell rebellion here?" he rasped out, tilting his head to the side.

Delilah looked away from his piercing hazel eyes. Gulping a lump formed in her throat, she answered back in a scared voice, "No rebel, Sire."

He gazed at her for a long minute before asking, "I know it's not gentlemanly, but do tell me how old are you exactly?"

"Ni-Nineteen, Sire." she obediently answered back in a whisper.

The man hummed in response, "You seem to know about the man. His daughter was taken away?"

"Yes, sir. He is my father's friend."

Scratching his beard, he looked at her thoughtfully. "To break into a break into the monastery is still against the law."

Hanging her head down, she whispered, "I concede."

"And you are still defending the man. This can cause you trouble." he raised an eyebrow at her. "In fact, it is blasphemy."

"Fear of God is no religion, it is superstition."

The words, uttered by the stranger that night, tumbled out of her mouth before she could even register what she was about to say.

Her throat tightened in fear as she registered his eyes widening but he quickly composed himself, smirking at her.

"That's quite a statement you made," he commented.Walking in a circle around her, he stopped just behind her.

"What is your name, madam?"

"Deli-Delilah."

"Delilah-nice. I won't have a trouble saying it all day." he ended with a much-amused chuckle.

Delilah's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Why would he even need to say her name all day?

Observing her perplexed expressions, he asked her, "You know someone who goes by the name Eugene or Edward, perhaps?"

"No, not at all, sire," she answered truthfully. The man nodded his head at this.

"Let her go. Arrange a carriage for her and drop her home. And cause no trouble or else, you will have to deal with me." the man said with a honeyed smile, making the guards feel squirm along with Delilah.

"Thank you for your kindness, Si-." she bowed.

"It is Zayn, please call me by my name. The pleasure was all mine," he said with a nod.

Delilah found it unsettling to call someone of such high post by his name but the way he insisted, she did not oppose. She nodded her head at him and with one last bow, stepped into the carriage and soon the vehicle left the magistrate's office far behind.

Zayn watched the carriage zoom out of his eyesight. Taking a deep breath in, he looked at the Sun which had started hiding behind the mountains.

"This bastard has a good choice," he whispered into the lukewarm air, "I am impressed." a soft smile played on his lips as he ended the sentence.