Their leader, a tall man with glowing icy blue eyes, pointed his sword at her. He was young, broad-shouldered and dressed like a soldier. She gasped, remembering the masked man who pinned her to the alley wall.
“There she is!”
Jacqueline froze for a moment, her heart pounding and her mind in confusion. How was the masked stranger in the same strange place as her?” She gasped, remembering the crowd wasn't there to chat but to hurt her.
She hurried to the rock-hewn well, placed her hands between the crevices by the edge and began to descend as fast she could before the men drew close.
Soon enough, arrows flew past her falling into the water below. She grunted, climbing down until her feet almost touched the water. It was dark and icy cold.
She patted the rocks, feeling for an opening until she found it and pulled out a red, weathered purse. She gripped it between her teeth and glanced up at the men staring down at her. Then her feet slipped and she was swallowed by the water.
The chirping of birds woke her from what felt like a blink of an eye. Jacqueline was no longer in the well but somewhere in the forest, lying beside an old oak tree, the red purse in her grip. She sat upright.
This jumping between places has got to stop, she thought, untying the string around the purse to open it. The gem was a blood-red opal that sparkled as it rolled on her palm.
The memories flooded her mind like a film reel running without permission.
It was back in 1769 when the king met a traveller who gave him the red gem. From that night onward, he changed and became different, the kind of creature that walked the night and fed on blood for survival. Soon, the people began to riot over the bodies found on the streets each morning, their necks marked by puncture wounds.
When the rumours spread that the king himself was responsible for killing his people, a resistance rose up. The night the king set out to wipe out the resistant group, he met a woman who enchanted him and took his head.
His body instantly crumpled into dust, leaving the red gem untouched yet his severed head stayed alive. “Please, don't destroy the gem,” the king pleaded. “I need it to stay alive. Just let me go into hiding. I promise not to harm anyone.”
The woman buried the gem where it would never be found and rode out of the kingdom that same night with the king's head.
No one knew who the woman was or where she had hidden the gem until the archeological dig centuries later. The moment Jacqueline held the gem, the story of its origin became a part of her memories.
She gasped. With a wide smile, she stood, dusted herself and tucked the purse inside her corset. Squaring her shoulders, she set off towards the place where the king's head was hidden many centuries ago.
I hope you enjoyed reading this short piece. It's inspired by the Freewrite #dailyprompt phrase "medieval town”.
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