Suddenly, the air surrounding the hundreds of people shoved into the crowded square outside the glorious doors of Notre Dame fell cold and heavy, like a serpent wrapping around the neck of its prey. In spite of the towering bodies of townsfolk and imperial guards surrounding me, eyebrows furrowed and burning into my peripherals, sharp whispers filling the stale atmosphere with sparks, I somehow saw past them all; through the gaps in decrepit shoulders and gnawing teeth, and into the deep dark brown eyes of the man who had just been grabbed by two large, armored men bearing the Kings seal.
The dark grey skies hung above us all, unmoving- dark and silent. All else grew still for these moments, and a cold chill ran down my back. What I felt was not fear, nor was I at ease. The dark brown, partially masked eyes on the other side of the court yard blazed back at me not with hate, or sadness, but an intimidating serenity, and sense of knowing. His eyes were ones you have seen in a thousand lonely places in your life. The eyes of a lost hand of cards, a betrayed lover or a risk made in dim light.
Though I did not feel threatened or afraid in the moment, a sense of unease followed me from that moment forward, drowning in his dark-
"GO ON THEN!" A guard screamed in my face. As I broke eye contact, the world around me began to focus, as the busy crowd had resumed. With one blink I felt as though I had come out of a deep sleep.
"I-Uh, Je" I stammered, but the guards, sneering from their sides, had already begun to turn away. I glanced desperately through the crowd for a moment, what had just happened? Where had they taken him?
The ends of my forefinger and thumb, which had grasped the purse of the stranger we had both found ourselves reaching for moments ago still burned with their actions. What had I done? The dread began to creep up on me, as I wove through the streets of merchants and back to my lodging. Was I being overly cautious? Eyes flickered in the dark as the small amount of light from the late fall sun instantly turned to flames hissing in oil lamps, dramatic shadows licking the cold cobblestone streets.
I pulled the hood of my shawl around my head, to shield myself from the gaze of figures crouched in doorways and feet trickling beside or behind me. Was I imagining things? Those sharp whispers filled every corner of every pub and closed shop on my walk home, steam clouding the dim windows of homes and flats. I was imagining things.
Not a moment too soon was I grabbing the doorknob to the boarding house and trotting up the stairs, past the snoring of our landlady in her chamber. I had to stop my hands from shaking as I turned my key and quickly shut the door behind me. A partial moon glared at me from cracks in the thick autumn clouds. I remembered the eyes of the man in the courtyard, and felt that unease as though it were grazing my ankles from beneath the door to the hallway. I gasped in spite of my self, and shot to the window to close the curtains.
"You're being ridiculous... you're just tired..." I reasoned with myself, lighting my own candle and hanging up my cloak. I tried to step lightly as I went, to distinguish the sound of my movements from the movements of others in the old house, the breathing of the house and the blowing of the wind outside.
I slipped quickly out of my clothes, placing my shoes and dress as far away from the cold window as possible. Letting down my hair, I slid into bed, pulling the linen blanket over my head. I could hear my heart beating into the pillow. Each groan of the house, no matter how familiar, or snort of a sleeping boarder caused me to jump. I dimmed the lantern low and fell into a restless sleep.
In this sleep I dreamt I was running through a forest. The ground was covered in snow, and I ran barefoot. With each step I broke a branch or some skin, my feet below me were bloody and sore. I kept glancing behind me through the woods to see a torch dancing in the distance. The cold air pierced my lungs with each fevered breath. Ahead of me, pale light reflected from water, guiding me through slivers of snow on fallen branches. I tripped over them, hands clutching at icy rocks, following the frozen stream to my side that lead to the clearing through the trees.
I emerged onto a frozen, rocky beach, and fell forwards into the cold, hard snow. I looked up towards the water, into the eyes of a large dark mare. She kicked her long black hooves through the icy water, her smoky breath filling the dark night that surrounded her. Pressing my chest into the frozen sand, I reached one hand out to her, frozen tears burning my face. She suddenly reared up on her hind legs, producing a whine that sounded like a thousand breaking plates. I clench my head as the sound pierces the air.
My heavy eyelids crack open to the sight of my room, glowing with the dark grey light of an early autumn morning. The screeching, still screaming through the room is resonating from the shop of the alley below. A rooster performing its morning ritual. I rub my eyes to find my hands are still ice cold. As I peer at them through the slit of light between my curtains I could have sworn they were bright pink from the cold. My breath fills my room, and the curtain shutters in the wind.
I sit up quickly in bed "Did I-..." I frown, remembering the thick iron window being firmly shut and latched when I came in the night before. I spring out of bed, my bare feet skimming ice cold floor as I fall towards the window, slamming it shut and latching it from the inside. I caught my breath sitting at the side of my bed, studying my callused hands as they trembled in place. The deep and hollow ringing of the bells from Notre Dame filled the city streets. I counted them, and wearily peered out the window.
Sliding back into my work dress, I wrapped my feet in bandage, toes numb with cold from the freezing room, feet torn up from hours and days working in shoes I had grown out of years before. I wrapped my cloak around me- the one true comfort I had to take with me each day.
Stepping onto the early morning streets, I found the corner by the boarding house to be suspiciously empty for this time of day. Had I miscounted the bells? Was it earlier than I thought? I paused and glanced around me, wary of the circumstances. After a moment I turned to carry on my way. I turned into the chest of a large man, how had he appeared so suddenly and silently? I jumped back, the smell of musk and spice carried from his tunic. A familiar smell.
"What?!" Was all I could exclaim. I glanced briefly onto the unfamiliar face of the man in front of me which wore a somber impression. A "THUNK" and sudden sharp pain radiated through my skull. The figure of the man, the city streets, the sky all went blurry and I felt my cheek hit the stone of the street below me and the world fell dark once again.
