Human Explosives

The offer was my life for a chest of gold. Mother eagerly licked her dry, crusted lips and readily agreed to give me away—like she was trading rotten apples for fresh bread. It hurt a little I guess. However, most people probably don't see me as worth much now.

Once, when I was younger, I was more careful with my looks and so much so that I attracted the attention of Prince Elton. We met in secret, and my love and devotion to him was true. We talked of marriage, how our kids would be raised, what it would be like when he ruled, and how I would have to move into the castle to be his queen. I thought I was destined to live the life of a noble. He was so convincing and I was so stupid and naive. As it turns out, all I was to him was just entertainment and the life he sold me was just a fantasy. One that can crashing down suddenly when I was with child. As soon as he knew, he turned away from me. I had nothing and he gave me nothing except a small dagger he suggested I kill myself with.

Mother suggested I kill also. Only this time, it would be the child. Then it could all stay a secret and I could pursue a craft for income and have a chance to find a more reasonable husband. Mother once even took me to the old lady with knives and herbs hidden down a back alley road behind a tavern. However, I could not bring myself to do it. It was my child. Our child. I had high hopes that he would someday return to see his child and maybe he could change his mind about us. However, he never came and for four years my hatred and bitterness toward him brewed and boiled. Until the mere mention of his name filled me with rage and disgust. I was ruined. And when I told others who the child's father was, I was mocked and made a fool of.

I learned to stay away from every one. I had nothing. We had nothing. So to one day wake up and find someone offering a chest of gold sounded like a miracle. The visitor that made the offer was an older man, wearing chain armor discreetly covered by plain, bleached robes. He hoped to appear younger by dyeing his hair brown. However, I could see the grey seeping out inches from the roots. He had strange golden eyes that were uncomfortable to look at, and he had a noticeably large mole on his upper lip. He said it was up to me. I could have all of it if I wanted. I could not even begin to stomach the things he would want to do to me for the gold.

"Melanie, please!" Mother pleaded as if I was being foolish to hesitate.

"What would happen if I said yes?" I asked.

His voice was raspy and slow. I had to lean in to hear everything he said. "After the King's recent death, Prince Merrick, the oldest was crowned. Since Prince Elton, the younger son, could not rule, he decided to leave and find somewhere he could call himself King. He has built many ships bound to new lands." He stopped abruptly in a fitting cough that lasted several minutes. "My lands," he continued. He waved his hand like someone swatting at a fly in the air. "You would be ridding the world of them."

"How?" I pressed. Did he know of my connection to Prince Elton? He had to. It was no secret. I told everyone. Maybe this was a trap. If I agreed to something treasonous, I could be arrested.

"Green fire. You will swallow little containers of it. Once they dissolve and mix into your stomach, they will explode."

I looked to my mother with a wide-open mouth. He meant to end my life... to use me like some sort of human explosive. Why me? He chuckled a little to himself at the look on my face, but promptly silenced himself after mother stared at him in anger. "I know of your connection to the Prince, and I know you will always live in the slums because of him. You need revenge and I need someone that can pass as a royal servant. You have the look of one I mean to replace. Do you have the desire and the will to give your daughter and mother a better life?"

Oh, please! I gritted my teeth. At first, I wanted to say no. Who wants to die? What if I would be arrested? Then, I looked around at the one room we called a house: the rotten, drearly walls, the pile of straw we slept on, and the kitchen cluttered with broken utensils and barely any food. I looked from the desperate face of my mother and down at Anna playing on the floor. She was draped in rags barely holding together and her face was stained with filth I could not wash off. With gold, there would be no worry or starving or sickness we could not afford to cure. Not only that, she would have a new and completely different life filled with fine dresses and maybe even a husband that didn't reek of vomit and sweat. If I said no, I could die tomorrow anyway or a year from now, and she would have nothing just like me and my mother. Then, what? This was a chance our family for good. If the price was right I suppose.