His shopping was going well enough as he glanced through his list, noting with relief that the prices had been less than he'd expected. Perhaps he'd been out of the cities too long.
As he made his way further along, the eagle suddenly perked, and he turned his head, trying to see what had caught its attention. After a moment he heard shouting and he followed the sound. Suddenly people were more plentiful as they moved past him in a hurry. He quickly dodged out of the way.
"This city is a good deal more lively than I remember," he murmured, watching civilians scramble about the streets and soldiers dashing about. There appeared to be some sort of commotion taking place. Curious, Malik carefully edged through the crowd, gently pushing away any who moved too close to him as he sought a better look.
There. Just ahead, a small group of soldiers were beating what appeared to be a young man, wresting him up from the dirt by the collar of his shirt as another laid a powerful backhand across his face. The boy's head whipped to the side from the force of the blow, spitting blood, and the one who held him shouted something. Two others came forward and grabbed his arms, holding him in place, as the first drew his sword.
Malik's frown deepened. Normally he would not get involved, as it was far better to draw as little attention to himself as possible, but he found himself striding purposely forward, unable and unwilling to watch the boy be slaughtered before him, whatever his crime. He raised his arm up as a cue for the eagle to take flight, which it did, letting out a short cry as it made a beeline for the group, Malik only a pace behind, already drawing his sword.
Blood would be spilled, but it would not be the boy's.
* * * *
Naji didn't understand how it had come to this. Surely there was no reason to execute him over a little pocket change. Dammit, the guards were always so dramatic, getting worked up over the smallest things. He watched the sword be drawn with apprehension, jerking his arms uselessly to try and free himself. To no avail, he was held firm as the guard shouted words that no longer registered to him, gaze fixed on the blade that in seconds would be buried in his flesh, its bite felt in his neck or stomach as it brought his life to an abrupt end.
He had almost escaped too! Curses, why did things always seem to turn out this way? Why couldn't he prevail just once? He might not be the most upstanding citizen, but he deserved a little slack. Perhaps he'd pushed his luck too far after that last incident which had landed him in prison. Hell, he hadn't known! He hadn't even gotten away with it!
A Long Time in Coming- Favorable Chance Encounters 3/?
As he made his way further along, the eagle suddenly perked, and he turned his head, trying to see what had caught its attention. After a moment he heard shouting and he followed the sound. Suddenly people were more plentiful as they moved past him in a hurry. He quickly dodged out of the way.
"This city is a good deal more lively than I remember," he murmured, watching civilians scramble about the streets and soldiers dashing about. There appeared to be some sort of commotion taking place. Curious, Malik carefully edged through the crowd, gently pushing away any who moved too close to him as he sought a better look.
There. Just ahead, a small group of soldiers were beating what appeared to be a young man, wresting him up from the dirt by the collar of his shirt as another laid a powerful backhand across his face. The boy's head whipped to the side from the force of the blow, spitting blood, and the one who held him shouted something. Two others came forward and grabbed his arms, holding him in place, as the first drew his sword.
Malik's frown deepened. Normally he would not get involved, as it was far better to draw as little attention to himself as possible, but he found himself striding purposely forward, unable and unwilling to watch the boy be slaughtered before him, whatever his crime. He raised his arm up as a cue for the eagle to take flight, which it did, letting out a short cry as it made a beeline for the group, Malik only a pace behind, already drawing his sword.
Blood would be spilled, but it would not be the boy's.
* * * *
Naji didn't understand how it had come to this. Surely there was no reason to execute him over a little pocket change. Dammit, the guards were always so dramatic, getting worked up over the smallest things. He watched the sword be drawn with apprehension, jerking his arms uselessly to try and free himself. To no avail, he was held firm as the guard shouted words that no longer registered to him, gaze fixed on the blade that in seconds would be buried in his flesh, its bite felt in his neck or stomach as it brought his life to an abrupt end.
He had almost escaped too! Curses, why did things always seem to turn out this way? Why couldn't he prevail just once? He might not be the most upstanding citizen, but he deserved a little slack. Perhaps he'd pushed his luck too far after that last incident which had landed him in prison. Hell, he hadn't known! He hadn't even gotten away with it!