“But look what I have done!” she shouted. “Just go, let me die.”
“I cannot,” his eyes filled with tears.
“It is my own fault, I don’t even know you. Leave me alone!”
He shook his head. “Guards take these bonds off of Kalila.”
She looked up, stunned, as the guards came over, inserted the key, and after a grind and a snap, her wrists and ankles were no longer tied. If she could wait for opening, she could run out of there and be gone forever. But how did this stranger know her name? And who was he who could command the Kings guards to untie her? Perhaps he was rich and had paid them, but who would in their right mind pay that much for her? For someone they didn’t even know? For a, a wretched prostitute?
“Who are you?” Kalila eased herself up from the ground, and glanced towards the open doorway.
Then she dashed for the door, slipped through the guards and was gone from that dark hole, hopefully forever now. She knew what that man had been planning. He was going to ask that she would come home with him as payment for that act of kindness. Kalila spat as she ran, she still had her pride, no matter what sort of hole she was imprisoned. He wouldn’t have her for the world.
The next morning, as Kalila went to leave the town, the castle, for good, she passed the prison again, as she stared at the sun, her heart was a little softened at the thought that she would have been dead already, dawn having passed, if she had still been in there.
As she snuck passed the skull, the place where guilty people were hung or torn to death, she noticed a fresh body lying in the mud, a man wearing purple and gold. She glanced behind her shoulder as she ran towards the gates. His eyes glistened out of his face in a deathless stare, he had whip wounds scattered across him, a rope imprint around his neck and dagger marks across his chest.
Well, he paid for what he got, Kalila thought as she recognized the gentlemen of yesterday. Perhaps they had found that he had bribed the guards. Then she ran out of the walls that had held her back for so many years… to be continued.
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